SULTÁN AHMAD KHÁN was the son of Yunus Khán, who has been mentioned above. When his father used to go and take up quarters in Táshkand, Ahmad, with a number of Moghuls who objected to towns and settlements, parted from his father, and stayed behind in Moghulistán. It would take too long to relate all that he did and [to describe] his administration in Moghulistán; but the substance of the matter is that it required ten years of residence in the country, before he could bring the people fully under his control. He was obliged to suppress some of the Amirs: among others the Irlát, who were powerful chiefs, and had offered him much opposition. A battle ensued in which he overthrew their race; he also put to death Amir Sultán Ali Jarás, who, since the time when the Amirs rose in opposition to Isán Bughá Khán, had never become reconciled to any of the Kháns.
The Káluji were the most numerous of all the tribes in Moghul-istán. At this time, a number of their chiefs joined together, and one night attacked the Khán's camp, killed all whom they found there, and poured a shower of arrows upon the tent of the Khán, who sustained several wounds. At last one of the attacking party entered the tent intending to kill him, but he rose up with drawn sword to meet the man; they dealt each other severe blows, and the intruder fled wounded. After this, several persons, having dismounted, tried, together, to force an entry. Sut Im Bahádur, who was one of the most important men in the Khán's court, at this moment arrived on the scene, and when the assailants saw that somebody was coming, they remounted and attacked him. He was quite alone, but nevertheless, offered them fight, and a considerable time elapsed before they were able to kill Sut Im Bahádur. They then again turned to attack the Khán. Hearing the noise, men came riding up from all directions to the tent of the Khán. At last the Káluji, having no longer power to resist, turned and fled. All these were the intimates of the Khán, and no one suspected them of such [treacherous] intentions. They fled to the Kálmák. As soon as the Khán had recovered from his wounds, he pursued them whither they had gone, but it took him two years to root them out.
After this, the affairs of the Khán became more prosperous, and no one in Moghulistán dared to oppose him. He made several successful inroads on the Kálmák, and put a number of them to death. He fought two battles with Táishi Isán, and was victorious in both. The Kálmák stood in great awe of him, and used to call him Álácha Khán; Álácha, in Moghul, means kushánda [the slayer], that is to say, “the slaying Khán.” This title adhered to him. His own people used to call him Álácha Khán. He is now spoken of by the Moghuls as Sultán Ahmad Khán, but all the neighbouring peoples call him ‘Álácha.’ Also one finds ‘Álácha’ written in the Histories of Mir Khwánd and of Khwánd Mir, of Herat, and others.121a
After these events, he carried on hostilities with the Uzbeg Kazák, for the reason already stated in the story of Sultán Mahmud Khán. For Sultán Mahmud Khan had, on two occasions, gone to war with the Uzbeg Kazák, and had been defeated on both occasions; on which account Sultán Ahmad Khán attacked the Uzbeg Kazák and utterly routed them three times.
Whatever they had done to his elder brother, Sultán Mahmud Khán, he, in turn, did to them. He, moreover, kept Moghulistán under such strict supervision, that during seven or eight months the Kálmák and Uzbeg were unable to approach the country. When he had satisfactorily disposed of the affairs of Moghulistán, he turned his attention to the question of Abá Bakr and Káshghar. In the year 905 (which is also the year of my birth), when he came to Káshghar, he found that Abá Bakr had gone to Yárkand, leaving Káshghar and Yángi Hisár fortified, garrisoned and stored. The officers of Mirzá Abá Bakr attacked the Khán several times, both in the citadel of Káshghar and at Yángi Hisár, all of which would take too long to relate. At length, Sultán Ahmad Mirzá122a took the citadel of Yángi Hisár by storm, and after that, Kásh-ghar being deserted by its garrison, who fled, he captured that place also.
He spent that winter in Káshghar, and removed his family thither from Moghulistán. At the end of the winter he marched against Mirzá Abá Bakr, in Yárkand. Mirzá Abá Bakr would not come out of the citadel, and when they [the attacking force] saw that an entry was impracticable, they went up into the hills near Yárkand, to carry off the flocks and plunder [the country]. Then, having taken quantities of cattle and booty, they returned towards Káshghar. But Mirzá Abá Bakr, leading a powerful army out of Yárkand, went and blocked the Khán's road in the mountains. A fierce battle was fought, in which, at length, the Khán's army was put to flight. The defeated Khán then descended to Káshghar, but being unable to remain there, he fled into Moghulistán.
One year after this event, news of the victory gained by Sháhi Beg Khán over Sultán Mahmud Khán reached him. Prompted by brotherly love, he set out to offer his services to his distinguished brother. Leaving his eldest son, Mansur Khán, in his own place, and giving him the style of Khán, he took his two other sons, Sultán Said Khán and Bábáják Khán, with him to Táshkand. The two Kháns met in Táshkand, and exchanged the salutations and formalities usual on such occasions. (An account of this matter is to be found in Part II.) In short, they discussed how they might frustrate the plans of Sháhi Beg Khán, and finally a battle took place between the latter and the two Kháns, at Akhsi, in which the two Kháns were defeated, and both of them made prisoners. Sháhi Beg Khán, observing the duties of the situation, permitted them both to return to Moghulistán; but the greater part of the Moghul Ulus he would not allow to depart. These two Kháns went to Moghulistán, passing that winter in Aksu. [There] Sultán Ahmad Khán was attacked with so violent a paralytic seizure, that the doctors were unable to relieve him, and he died in the winter of the year 909 [1503-4]. (May Paradise be his dwelling.)
Sultán Ahmad Khán was a very religious prince and a devoted Musulmán. He was versed in the Holy Law [Shar']123a and most of his affairs were governed by it. He was a high-minded, though violent, man and was distinguished for his daring. He was intelligent, of sound judgment and modest. He was especially affable towards darvishes, and towards learned and pious men. During most of his life he granted pensions to the poor, and gave away one-fifth of his income in charity. In his beneficence and virtuous habits he had, in his time, no rival. He died at the age of thirty-nine.
More will be said of him in the Second Part.
HE was the eldest son of Sultán Ahmad Khán, who, when he went to join his brother Sultán Mahmud Khán in Táshkand, set up Mansur, as Khán, in his own stead. This was in the year 909, when Mansur Khán was nineteen years of age. At his father's death, his uncle, Sultán Mahmud Khán, left Aksu and came into Moghulistán. Mansur Khán then established his court in Aksu, where a dispute arose between himself and Mir Jabár Birdi, such as is wont to arise between rival heirs; and Mir Jabár Birdi's life became imperilled. The only means he could devise for saving himself, was to send off a messenger to Mirzá Abá Bakr [to ask him to come to his aid]. This was exactly what the Mirzá would have prayed God for; so he set out for Aksu with an army of 30,000 men. Mir Jabár Birdi hastened out to receive Mirzá Abá Bakr. The advance-guard and scouts of the Mirzá's army were in readiness.
When news of this reached Mansur Khán, he fortified Aksu, and, leaving a garrison in its fort, repaired to Bái and Kusan.124a Mir Jabár Birdi, as a mark of confidence, delivered over to Mirzá Abá Bakr the fort of Uch, which was his own residence and domain. They entered Aksu together, took the fort by storm, and laid hands on all the treasure and hidden wealth which Sultán Ahmad and his people had amassed during twenty-five years. This, together with the people of Aksu, both Moghul and peasant [ráyat],124b they despatched to Káshghar, Mir Jabár Birdi sending his own family in front of all the rest, to prove his entire trust in Mirzá Abá Bakr: for he looked upon a show of confidence as his source of safety. Mirzá Abá Bakr asked him if that were his family. He replied: “There might be difficulties in the way of taking them in the rear of the party, so they can go now. I will stay here a few days to pillage and plunder the surrounding neighbourhood; then I will load your army with booty, and will bring back both the booty and the army to you, in Káshghar.’
The Mirzá was pleased with this boast of Mir Jabár Birdi, whose family he took, with the rest of the people of Aksu, to Káshghar; while he left, with the Mir, an army of 10,000 men, who were to bring on whatever had been left behind.
Mir Jabár Birdi led the Mirzá's army against Bái and Kusan, making several raids into those territories, and carrying off the horses. When he calculated that the Mirzá had arrived in Káshghar, he abandoned the army of the Mirzá, which, frustrated and disappointed, returned to Káshghar, while Mir Jabár Birdi remained in the province of Aksu.
These events were disastrous to Mansur Khán, and his position became very weak. He repented of having persecuted [attempted to take the life of] Mir Jabár Birdi, who was his maternal uncle, the brother of his mother Sáhib Daulat Begum. In the meantime, news of Mir Jabár Birdi reached him. He thereupon sent messengers to him, offering apologies. Having made a covenant with him, he brought him back and bestowed upon him even greater favours than his father, Sultán Ahmad Khán, had done before him.
After the return of Mir Jabár Birdi to the court of Mansur Khán, the affairs of the latter assumed a more favourable aspect. At that time the people of the different tribes were engaged in hostilities with one another, and these, as far as was possible, he pacified. This is a long story, and I do not recall further details. In short, while these things were passing, news arrived of the discord, in Moghulistán, between Sultán Mahmud Khán and Sultán Said Khán and Sultán Khalil Sultán. Thereupon Mansur Khán entered Moghulistán, and again met his paternal uncle Sultán Mahmud Khán. At this audience he also met Sultán Said Khán and Sultán Khalil Sultán, who were his younger brothers.
After this division had occurred, Sultán Mahmud Khán was no longer able to remain in Moghulistán, being incapable of directing his affairs there: so he repaired to Mávará-un-Nahr (as has been told) and was there slain.
When Mansur Khán heard of Sultán Mahmud Khán's expedition into the [viláyat] country [of Mávárá-un-Nahr], he marched against his brothers, who were in Moghulistán with the Kirghiz and the rest of the Moghuls, who had stayed behind. On his arrival, a battle took place in Chárun Chálák. The fight was a fierce one, and ultimately Mansur Khán came off victor. The two brothers fled to “the viláyat.”125a On reaching Andiján, the governor of that place put Sultán Khalil Sultán to death: but his brother, Sultán Said Khán, escaped to Kábul; all of which is related in Part II.
Mansur Khán carried off to Chálish125b and Turfán, all those of the Kirghiz, and other Moghul tribes, whom he found in Moghul-istán. As the Kirghiz were the originators of all the revolts in Moghulistán, he put most of them to death by stratagem. A few of them, however, fled to Moghulistán. After this he made inroads on the Kálmák and was, as a rule, victorious. Thus the affairs of the Khán prospered; though from time to time, he met with opposition from the side of his brothers. One of them, Aiman Khwája Sultán, twice rose against him and was twice subdued, without more being said; however, on the occasion of his revolting a third time, he was seized and handed over to Yáráka Atáka, who received orders to put him to death. But instead of obeying, he hid Aiman Khwája Sultán, telling the Khán that he had carried out his commission. A year after this, Bábáják Sultán, another brother of the Khán, fled from him, and betook himself to Bái and Kusan.
These two places, since their destruction [virán] by Mirzá Abá Bakr and Jabár Birdi, had fallen into desolation and ruin. But Bábáják came and cultivated the ground, and restored the fort which had been destroyed. Then Mansur Khán came against Bábáják Sultán, and in the first place, tried to bring him to terms of peace, but Bábáják said: “How can I put any trust in you? Aiman Khwája Sultán was also your brother, and you slew him like an enemy: I have no longer any faith in you.” Then Mansur Khán repented of having killed Aiman Khwája Sultán, and could make no reply. But Yáráka Atáka interposed: “I had the presumption to act in opposition to your orders, and kept your brother alive.” Mansur Khán was very grateful, and on account of this action, raised Yáráka Atáka to a very high rank. He then sent Aiman Khwája Sultán to Bábáják Sultán, who thereupon came and offered submission to the Khán, and made terms of peace.
In the meanwhile, news arrived of the victory Sultán Said Khán had obtained over Mirzá Abá Bakr, and of his conquest of Káshghar. Bábáják Sultán sent Aiman Khwája Sultán to Said Khán, who was rejoiced at his coming. (Bábáják Sultán and Mansur Khán were born of the same mother; as were also Sultán Said Khán and Aiman Khwája Khán.) This is related more fully in Part II.
Mansur Khán stood in great fear of Sultán Said Khán, because he had been the cause of the death of Sultán Said Khán's own brother, Sultán Khalil, and many violent disputes arose between them. Mansur Khán was convinced that this would cause an eternal enmity between them, but contrary to his expectations, Sultán Said Khán sent an ambassador, with an escort, to his elder brother Mansur Khán, and begged for an interview. The meeting took place between Aksu and Kusan in the year 912,126a in which Sultán Said Khán declared his submission and obedience to Mansur Khán, and ordered the Khutba to be read in the latter's name; thus a complete reconciliation was brought about between the two brothers, as a result of which their countries, during a period of twenty years, enjoyed the most perfect peace and security. Any one, for example, could travel alone from Kámul,126b in Khitái, to Andiján, without having any duties levied upon him; and would be taken every night, as a guest, into some house [on the road]. May God place these two just and righteous brothers in the Garden of Paradise!
During these twenty years, Mansur Khán made several holy wars against Khitái, and always returned mansur [victorious].127a In one of these holy wars, Mir Jabár Birdi met his death, as did also Bandagi Khwája Tájuddin Muhammad. This latter was one of the Khwájas of Kusan, and was descended from Mauláná Arshad-ud-Din, who converted the Moghuls to Islám, as has been already related. He made his studies under Mauláná Ali Gharrán of Tus (upon whom be mercy), and also spent much time in the company of that Axis of Axes, Khwája Nasiruddin Ubaidullah, and participated in the benevolent glance of his Holiness
I once heard from the lips of Khwája Tájuddin the following: “I was one day visiting his Holiness, and was seated near him, when he remarked that it was necessary to abstain from ‘doubtful morsels.’ I looked round the company, and saw they were all men of piety; I was the only one present who was not an abstainer [an ascetic], and I took an oath that, from that time forward, I would eat no food that was not pronounced absolutely lawful by him. So have me excused if I touch not any food at your table.” I have mentioned this to show what a pious and abstinent man Khwája Tájuddin was. He was in attendance on Sultán Ahmad Khán and Mansur Khán for fifty years, or rather these Kháns were his disciples. And he accepted, during all this period, neither offering nor gift, whether it were from the Kháns or the Sultáns or the generals of the army, or from peasants or merchants. The Khwája occupied himself, also, with commerce and agriculture. And from these occupations there accrued to him, by the blessing of the Most High God, great wealth. And what urbanity did he not show, every year, towards the Kháns and the Amirs! The poor and indigent—nay, more, the peasant, the villager, the artisan, and the merchant, all profited [by his wealth]. For this reason no one denied him anything, and all the affairs of the kingdom were laid before him in detail. He was, in very truth, a great and loving— a generous and zealous man.
In one of the holy wars against Khitái, he was slain before Mansur Khán's eyes. (May God's mercy be upon him.) When Mansur Khán had disposed of these holy wars in Khitái, he fought a pitched battle with the Uzbeg Kazák at a place in Moghulistán called Arish,127b where he was defeated; and Sufi Mirzá, who was a Begjik and the chief minister of the Khán, was killed. After this event [Mansur] made fewer expeditions from Chálish and Turfán.
Subsequent to the death of Sultán Said Khán, he marched against Aksu. Twice he failed and was obliged to retire, and in the year 950 he died (may God illumine his proof!) at the age of about sixty years. Except Yunus Khán, no other Khán of the Chaghatái line attained such an age. He ascended the throne,128a in the year 907, at the age of sixteen, and reigned forty-three years. No other Chaghatái Khán ever reigned as long as this. Nor did any of the Moghul Kháns enjoy so long a life and reign. He adorned his days from the first to the last with blessings and charitable gifts. He passed the whole of his time in the study of the holy law, or the reading of the Korán. I have heard from his intimates that he used to spend about one-fifth of his time in directing the affairs of the State, and all the rest in perusal of the Korán [tilavat],128b prayer [davat], the prescribed prayers [namáz], and in reciting the names of God [Izkár]. It would be hard to find any one among the Pádisháhs, or even among the most pious men [ahl-i-suluk], who disposed of their time better than he did. And in consequence of this he was blessed with a long life and earthly happiness, such as no one but he, of his line, has ever enjoyed. May God bless his heavenly life as he did his days upon earth! Amen. Oh God of both worlds!
He excelled in the conduct of life, in intelligence and prudence, and was skilled in state management and the control and organisation of armies. By his nature he was not at all addicted to the customs and ceremonies of kings, or to the grandeur and magnificence of Kháns, but rather tried to do without ceremony, and to live as simply as possible. In no way whatever did he make any distinction between himself and the rest of his people. He knew the Korán by heart, and had a very accurate Reader, who was better versed in the Korán than any one else in the country. His name was “Háfiz Magas-i-sag.”128c But in his innermost nature, this man was so unbalanced and his acts were so revolting, that to mention them would be a reason for withdrawing behind a curtain! It was under this man that Mansur Khan learnt by heart the Kalám-Ullah. Some of his officers one day suggested, in private, to the Khán that Háfiz Magas was not worthy to be his teacher, seeing that his mind was totally unsound…129a Thus it is evident that Mansur Khán was a religiously inclined monarch. He spent the whole of his life in the practice of Islám.
He left behind him two sons, Sháh Khán and Muhammad Sultán, and one daughter, whom Sultán Said Khán took for his son Rashid Sultán, as is mentioned in Part II.
AT the end of his life, Mansur Khán had raised his eldest son Sháh Khán to the throne, while he himself withdrew to the cell of retirement. His son succeeded to all his authority, and is at this day— 952 [1545]—the reigning Khán in Turfán and Chálish. But in his treatment of his father's adherents, in his direction of the Khánate, and in his regal proceedings, he has adopted displeasing ways, and has become notorious for his bad manners, of which it is unnecessary for me to speak. Even while his father was yet alive, he had stained the garments of good reputation with the pollution of disobedience, and he does not now regard the memory of his distinguished father in the way that is becoming and fit; nor has he shown such signs of piety and prosperity as would be worthy of his good father.
It is the practice of historians to recount everything as they find it, whether worthy or unworthy of mention. For it is not their object to write down the good qualities of princes, and to omit all their bad actions, but rather to reproduce all facts without discrimination, in order that they may leave behind them a record of the people of this world. Thus all men in power, as well as others, reading their histories, may profit by their advice, and may see what have been the various fruits and results of praiseworthy habits, on the one hand, or blameable actions on the other: also that they may accept the lesson to be learnt from observing the way in which the memory of different princes has been preserved, and may, in short, incline to good deeds and avoid evil ways.
SULTÁN AHMAD KHÁN had eighteen sons. The eldest was Mansur Khán, of whom I have just spoken. Next to him came Iskandar Sultán, who died a natural death, after his father. Then came Sultán Said Khan, who was fourteen years of age when Sultán Ahmad Khán went to [the assistance of] his elder brother, Sultán Mahmud Khán. He had taken with him, on this occasion, two of his sons: namely Sultán Said Khán and Bábáják Sultán.
While the two Kháns were together, Sultán Said Khán passed his days in the cell of instruction of my father, and under the kindly protection of my uncle. [This lasted] up to the time of the battle at Akhsi, between the two Kháns and Sháhi Beg Khán (which has been mentioned). In the flight which ensued, Sultán Said Khán was struck by an arrow in the thigh, and the bone was broken: so he threw himself onto a side path.130a After the flight and rout had subsided, some of the people of that district found him, but as his leg was broken, they did not remove him from where he lay. After a few days had passed, and he was almost recovered, they took him before Shaikh Báyazid, Governor of Akhsi. An account of Shaikh Báyazid and of his brother, Sultán Ahmad Tambal, will be found in Part II. Shaikh Báyazid kept Sultán Said Khán in prison.
In the year following, when the corn was high, Sháhi Beg Khan again came against Farghána and Sultán Ahmad Tambal. Sultán Ahmad Tambal and Shaikh Báyazid, together with all their brothers, were put to death by Sháhi Beg Khán, who then possessed himself of Farghána. Sultán Said Khán, who was in prison, by the order of Shaikh Báyazid, was now released and conducted before Sháhi Beg Khán, who treated him as his own son, and being moved to pity at his sad condition, took him to Samarkand. From there he took him on his campaign against Hisár and Kunduz, at the time when Khusrau Sháh had just subjugated the provinces of Hisár, Kunduz, and Badakhshán. When he had brought this enterprise to a close, he again returned to Samarkand. He next invaded Khwárizm. But on the occasion of this expedition, the Khán fled from him and came into Moghulistán. He journeyed by way of Uzun Ahmad as far as Yatikand.130b His uncle, Sultán Mahmud Khán, was at that time in Yatikand; with him he passed a few days, but finally, being wearied with the careless way in which his uncle conducted the affairs of the State, he departed and went into Moghulistán to visit his brother, Sultán Khalil Sultán, who was governor of the Kirghiz.
He remained four years with his brother, among the Kirghiz in Moghulistán. During this period many transactions took place between Sultán Mahmud Khan, Mansur Khán, and these two brothers. The result of these proceedings was that Sultán Mahmud Khán found, on account [of the opposition] of his nephews, that he could no longer remain in Moghulistán. So he went to seek Sháhi Beg Khán, in hopes of kind treatment. But Sháhi Beg Khán, as has been related, put him to death on the river of Khojand. When Sultán Mahmud Khán went abroad [to viláyat] to visit Sháhi Beg Khán, these two brothers remained in Moghul-istán and the Kirghiz country. In the meanwhile, news of the approach of Mansur Khán's army reached them. For Mansur Khán had led out an army from Chálish and Turfán against his brothers, in order to seize the land of the Khirghiz and Moghulistán. So Sultán Said Khán and Sultán Khalil, having collected all the [fighting] men of the Kirghiz and the Moghuls, took up a strong position at a place called Charun Chák,131a ready to receive the enemy. On the arrival of Mansur with his army, the signal for battle was given, and finally Sultán Said Khán and Sultán Khalil Sultán were defeated. Mansur Khán made the Kirghiz march into Chálish, as has been mentioned in the account of Mansur Khán. Sultán Khalil Sultán escaped from the fight with a considerable number of men, and came to Farghána, [hoping] to fall in with his uncle Sultán Mahmud Khán, and to be kindly treated by Sháhi Beg Khán. But when he reached Akhsi he was put to death by Jáni Beg Khán, a cousin of Sháhi Beg Khán, and governor of the country of Farghána.
Sultán Said Khán, for some time after the battle, took to robbery, but events soon came about which rendered impossible for him further sojourn in Moghulistán. (These events are described in Part II. To avoid repetition they have only been given in epitome here.) In this state of hopelessness Sultán Said Khán went to Andiján, and thence to Kábul, to visit his (paternal) cousin Bábar Pádisháh, the son of Omar Shaikh Mirzá, who received him with honour and kindness, and with whom he stayed for three years at Kábul.
When Sháh Ismáil [defeated and] slew Sháhi Beg Khán in Marv, Bábar Pádisháh moved from Kábul to Kunduz, taking Sultán Said Khán with him. At this same time Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá, son of Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, and uncle of the author of this history, invaded Andiján and, driving Jáni Beg Sultán out, became himself master of the country. He then sent messengers to inform Bábar Pádisháh of what he had achieved. Bábar Pádisháh thereupon sent Sultán Said Khán and what Moghul Amirs he had in his service, to Andiján. On his arrival there, Sultán Said Khán was received with ceremony by his uncle Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá, who also delivered over to him the whole of the territory which he had just subjugated. The Khán showed my uncle every mark of honour, and according to the ancient Moghul custom, conferred upon him the title of Ulusbegi,132a which became his hereditary office.
Meanwhile Mirzá Abá Bakr, having set his heart upon the kingdom of Farghána, had collected an army in Káshghar, and was on the road to Andiján. The Khán marched out to meet him with an army of 1500 men. The two forces came into contact at a place called Tut-lugh,132b about two farsákhs from Andiján. By the help of God [that small body] of 1500 men overcame an army 20,000 strong, after a very fierce struggle, and in consequence of this victory the fame of Sultán Said Khán was established among the surrounding Sultáns. The Uzbeg Sultáns from Farghána then began to assemble on the borders of Samarkand and Táshkand. Afterwards, Bábar Pádisháh engaged these Sultáns in a battle at Hisár Shádmán, and was victorious. By this victory he was enabled to rid Mávará-un-Nahr of all the Uzbeg, and he himself mounted the throne of Samarkand. In the month of Rajab of the year 917,132c the Khán was again firmly established in Andiján. In the early spring [avval bahár] of the same year, the Uzbeg again entered Táshkand. Ubaid Ullah Khán advanced in the direction of Bokhárá, in the neighbourhood of which place he fought a battle with Bábar Pádisháh, who had come out to oppose him. Ubaid Ullah Khán was victorious, and Bábar Pádisháh retired defeated to Samarkand, whence, withdrawing his family and all his belongings, he fled to Hisár. Thus the Uzbeg recovered their ascendency. The Khán remained in Andiján.
Bábar Pádisháh, meanwhile, appealed to Sháh Ismáil for assistance. The latter sent Mir Najm, one of his Amirs, with 60,000 men, to the Pádisháh, who having joined his own troops to these, marched on Samarkand. The Khán, in the meantime, having harassed the Uzbeg in the neighbourhood of Andiján, also marched towards Samarkand, and encountered Suyunj Khwája Khán near Táshkand. All the other Kháns and Sultáns had assembled in Samarkand and Bokhárá to oppose Bábar Pádisháh. But in the battle near Táshkand, between the Khán and Suyunj Khwája Khán, the former had 5000 men and the latter 7000; after a hard fight, the Khán was defeated and fled to Andiján.133a
Your servant, the author of the present history, having taken leave of Bábar Pádisháh, at the time when he went to join Mir Najm, entered the service of the Khán, who was in Andiján, and had just sustained a defeat at the hands of Suyunj Khwája Khán. In the spring, the Khán went to the court of Kásim Khán, who was ruler of the Dasht-i-Kipchák. At that time his army numbered 300,000 men. Kásim Khán received him with so much respect and honour that the Khán remembered it for years after. On his return from that visit, he distinguished me from among my equals with the connection [musaharat] of Kurkáni. All this is related in Part II.
In the early spring of the year 920 all the great Uzbeg Sultáns, with a very numerous army of warriors, advanced against Andiján. The Khán, not deeming it wise to offer fight, retired into Moghulistán before the foreign army reached Farghána. When he arrived at Yatikand they held a council of war, and acting on the timely advice and persuasion of my uncle Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá (who was brother to Mirzá Abá Bakr), they marched towards Káshghar, where a terrible battle was fought, in which the army of that place was routed and obliged to retire within the fort of Káshghar. The Khán then marched on Yángi Hisár, which he besieged for three months. At length the inhabitants entered into a capitulation with my uncle, and delivered up the fort.
On this news reaching Káshghar, the army that was in that town abandoned it. When the fugitives joined Mirzá Abá Bakr in Yárkand, he too resolved on flight, and took the road to Khotan. The Khán pursued him to Yárkand, and then sent on troops after him, as far as the mountains of Tibet. Much booty in the shape of cloths, goods, cattle and horses fell into the hands of the Moghul army (as is described in the Second Part).
The accession of the Khán to the kingdom of Káshghar was in Rajab of the year 920.133b At the end of that winter Aiman Khwája Sultán, who was brother to the Khán, by the same father and mother, came from Turfán, as has been stated above. He instigated and encourged his Amirs in the matter of the extermination of Mansur Khán, explaining to them the decline of the Khán's power, and dwelling on the enmity that had existed in Moghulistán, in times past, towards the Khán. But the Khán said: “He is the elder brother; in former times I did not pay him due respect, and consequently he punished me. I ought on this account to bear him no enmity. The most fitting thing for me to do, is to apologise to him for my shortcomings, and offer him reparation for the past.” He then sent ambassadors bearing words of peace and submission. At this message, Mansur Khán, whose soul had come to his lips, from fear and foreboding, now received new life and joy without bounds. He came in fear and trembling to the conference [mulákát], which was held between Aksu and Kusan. The Khán showed him great honour, and agreed to read the Khutba and strike coins in his name. And all the ill-feeling that he had formerly borne Mansur Khán, he now changed to brotherly affection and obedience. From this peace and reconciliation between the two brothers, resulted such security and prosperity for the people, that any one might travel alone between Kámul or Khitái and the country of Farghána, without provision for the journey and without fear of molestation. Some ingenious person, to commemorate this peace, invented the following chronogram, “Du lashkar ba nishát”—that is, 922. [“Two armies in happiness.”]
The next year, when Muhammad Kirghiz had made raids into Turkistán and Farghána, and had plundered the Musulmáns, the Khán, in his desire to protect Islám, looked upon this action as an insult. He therefore set forth to attack Muhammad Kirghiz, whom he seized and threw into prison, where he remained for fifteen years.
In 928 [1522] the Khán took his son Rashid Sultán into Moghul-istán. He subdued the whole of Moghulistán and the Kirghiz, and a number of the people of Moghulistán supported Rashid Sultán. Finally, on account of the superiority of the Mangit,134a the Uzbeg Kazák, being no longer able to remain in the Dasht-i-Kipchák, came over into Moghulistán, to the number of 200,000 persons. It was impossible to resist them, so Rashid Sultán retired with his men to Káshghar.
Meanwhile the Khán invaded Badakhshán, and conquered half of it, which is, to this day, subject to the government of Káshghar. This is a long story. The disputes that arose out of the claims to its inheritance made by Sháh Begum (who has been mentioned) are related in Part. II. of this History.
The Khán twice invaded Badakhshán, once in the year 925 and again in 936 [1519 and 1529-30]. In the year 934 the Khán sent me, with Rashid Sultán, to Balur, which is a country of infidels [Káfiristán], between Badakhshán and Kashmir,135a where we conducted successfully a holy war [ghazát], and returned victorious, loaded with booty and covered with glory.
A short time after this, it came about that some malicious and impure devils set up Aiman Khwája Sultán in Aksu. This town, which from the date of the conquest of Mirzá Abá Bakr (909), to the year 913, had been in a state of ruin, was now rebuilt by Aiman Khwája Sultán.
The Khán sent me, together with Rashid Sultán, to Aksu, whence we drove out Aiman Khwája Sultán, and sent him to Káshghar. Then, having set in order his military and civil affairs, I left Rashid Sultán in Aksu and re-entered the service of the Khán. Aiman Sultán was despatched to Hindustán, where he died a natural death. At the end of the year 938 [1532] the Khán made a holy war on the infidel country [Káfiristán] of Tibet,135b sending me forward in advance of himself. I had taken several of the forts and subdued most of the country of Tibet, by the time the Khán came up with me. The two armies together formed a body of 5000 men, which was a larger number of people than all Tibet could support in winter time. So the Khán saw fit to send me, in company with Iskandar Sultán, to Kashmir, with 4000 men, while he himself proceeded to Balti, which is a province between Tibet and Balur. He spent the winter there, engaged in a holy war, and in the spring returned to Tibet.
I entered Kashmir that winter, and at the end of the season136a fought a pitched battle with the kings [malik] of the country. Thanks to the Most High God, I came off victorious, and exterminated the whole army of Kashmir and the kings. I might also have subdued the whole of the country, had it not been for some of those malignant persons who, by their words and actions, throw things into disorder, and who rendered the further reduction of the country impossible.136b Peace was made with the kings of Kashmir, and the daughter of Muhammad Sháh, the Pádisháh of Kashmir, was given in marriage to Iskandar Sultán, while the Khutba was read and the coins struck in the Khán's name. All the wealth of Kashmir, that it was possible to collect, was brought, in the spring following that winter, to the Khán in Tibet. The Khán, on my return, honoured me with every mark of royal benevolence and favour, and sent me to Ursáng, which is the Kibla of Khitái and Tibet,136c while he himself set out for Káshghar.
At the time of his arrival [in Tibet] he had become very weak and much reduced, from dam-giri,137a and during the whole period of his sojourn in Tibet he never quite recovered. Nevertheless, he was obliged, under any circumstances, to make the [return] journey. When he reached a spot where dam-giri was prevalent, his pious soul took flight to the regions of the blessed. This was at the close of the year 939.137b All this is fully related in Part II. of this History.
SULTÁN SAID KHÁN was a noble, happy, and prosperous prince, and was adorned with acquirements and good qualities. He was nearly forty-eight years of age when he went to take up his abode in the dwellings of God's mercy. His conduct of life was irreproachable. His conversation was both graceful and eloquent, whether in Turki or in Persian, and when he showed favour to any one, he used to blush before speaking. He was always gay, open-hearted, generous and affectionate. For example, a certain Maksud Ali had struck the Khán in the left shoulder with an arrow, in some battle; [so severe was the wound] that the Khán suffered from it for two years and nearly died of it. During the time of his suffering, some men captured Maksud Ali, so that the Khán might wreak his vengeance upon him. But when he was brought before the Khán, he treated him kindly, and though he had only one garment by him, gave it him. He also took him into his own society, and made him his companion, saying: “I was vexed, but thou art welcome [nik ámadi],” and they continued good friends the rest of their lives. He performed many similar acts of generosity, several of which will be found recorded in Part II. His liberality reached a high degree of perfection. I was twenty-four years in his service. Such was his munificence that his household supplies were sometimes quite exhausted, and the royal larder was some days so empty, that he would go and take his meals in the haram. For the same reason his expenditure exceeded the revenue of the State.
He was also greatly distinguished for his bravery. I was present at an attack which was led by him in person, and have described it in Part II. Moreover, I never saw his equal as an archer, among all the Moghul, Uzbeg, or Chaghatái Ulus, either before or since. I have myself seen him shoot seven or eight arrows in succession, without missing his mark. When hunting deer, hares, or game birds, he would never fail to hit them with his arrow. And in the battles he fought against the Kirghiz and others in Moghulistán, he became celebrated for the way he discharged his shafts into their midst. Generosity such as his I have seldom seen. On one occasion, an assassin came and sought to take his life, but not finding an opportunity, stole a horse from the Khán's stable and rode off. He was captured on the road, with the horse, and brought back. The prisoner said to the Khán: “I came on a mission [davá], but could find no opportunity of carrying it out, so I said: I will take a horse from the Khán's stables, then I shall at any rate have done something.” The Khán's men all wished to kill him, but the Khán said to me: “Hand him over to your servants that they may take care of him, and do with him whatever you tell them.” When the people had dispersed the Khán said to me: “As a thankoffering to God for having preserved me from that man, give him the horse he stole from me. Then tell your men to let him secretly out of the camp, so that when he returns to his fellows they may not look upon him with contempt. Thus the poor man will, in a measure, have executed his mission.”
Further, I never saw a more accurate reader than the Khán. However faulty the orthography might be, he would read off verse or prose without hesitating, in such a way that listeners might suppose he knew it by heart. He wrote Naskh Tálik excellently, and his spelling in Turki and Persian was faultless. He also composed letters [inshá] well in Turki: other people could only have composed them with great difficulty and application. I have rarely met with such power and capability in writing verse [shir]. He never said poems by heart, but in assemblies and social gatherings, if any collection of odes [diván] that was at hand was opened, and he was given any metre and rhyme, he would extemporise a poem. If he repeated a poem once or twice, everybody could remember it; but he was not pleased if any one made a copy of it.
I have remembered, and here reproduce, some of the extempore poems which the Khán recited in the assemblies. [Turki verses …]
I only once knew him make verses in Persian.138a
He performed on the 'ud, and the sihtara, and the chártára, and the ghachak, but best of all on the chártára.139a He had a sound knowledge of bone-cutting, and was skilled in making arrows.
AT this date of 953,139b Abdur Rashid, the most excellent son of Sultán Said Khán, is on the throne of the Kháns, and I (your most despicable slave), Muhammad Haidar, have inscribed and adorned my history with his glorious name. This book, beginning with an account of Tughluk Timur Khán (who was the first among the Moghul Khákáns to be converted to Islám), down to Sultán Yunus Khan, is compiled from oral tradition and contemporary accounts, when they have not been found contradictory. Conflicting traditions have been omitted, on account of their probable inaccuracy. The history, from Yunus Khán down to the end of the reign of Sultán Said Khán, has been fully treated of in Part II. But in Part I. I have only given this portion of the history in epitome, as it is long, and much repetition would not embellish my work.
As, however, there is no account of Abdur Rashid Khán in Part II., it is fitting to give it in this place.
At the time when the Khán [Sultán Said] was in Moghulistán with his brother Sultán Khalil Sultán, Mansur Khán also entered that country, and a battle was fought between them at Chárun Chálák, in which the two brothers were put to flight. After being routed, they found that they could no longer remain in Moghulistán, so they retired in distress to Andiján, where the Khán was put into confinement. But he managed to escape, and went to Kábul, where his cousin Bábar Pádisháh was. (All of this is related in Part II.) The mother of Abdur Rashid Khán was one of those tribes-people whom his father had married, while they were in his service. She was with the Khán when he was thrown into prison in Andiján, but the malignant Uzbeg had separated her from the Khán, by whom she was seven months with child, of this same Abdur Rashid Khán. When the Khán joined Bábar Pádisháh at Kábul, news reached him that his servant was delivered of a son. The Khán told this news to the Pádisháh, who said to him: “Call this boy Abdur Rashid, because it rhymes with Sultán Said Khán.” And this is the origin of the name of Abdur Rashid, who was his father's successor.
When my uncle, Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá, went to Farghána and attacked the Uzbeg under Jáni Beg Sultán, he cleared the country entirely of Uzbeg impurities, and sent a messenger to the Pádisháh in Kunduz, who brought him back Sultán Said Khán. Abdur Rashid Khán had fallen into the unclean hands of the Uzbeg, but in consequence of these successes, he recovered his liberty and joined his noble father. When my sister, Habiba Sultán Khánish, came from Samarkand, the Khán married her, and entrusted Abdur Rashid Sultán to her care. She reared him with motherly attention and love, and Amir Ghuri Barlás was appointed his governor [Atábeg]. He was at that time three years of age. Two years later Amir Ghuri Barlás died, and according to the Moghul usage, his office was given to his uncle, Ali Mirák Barlás Khán. Thus Ali Mirák Barlás was appointed Atábeg to Abdur Rashid Sultán, and the charge of his education was given to Mauláná Muhammad Shirázi, a learned and noble-minded man, who passed all his valuable life in the service of the Moghul Khákáns. He was chief judge [Sadr-i-Sudur] at the court of Sultán Said Khán, where he exercised great influence.
This Mauláná was in truth the Atábeg of Rashid Sultán, while Ali Mirák Barlás held the office only nominally.
Rashid Sultán was born in the year 915 [1509-10]. In 928, when he was thirteen years of age, the Khán brought him into Moghulistán.
When Khalil Sultán was killed by Jáni Beg Sultán at Akhsi, his son Bábá Sultán was still at the breast, and like Rashid Sultán, was kept a prisoner by Jáni Beg Sultán. At the time when Farghána was subdued, he was brought to the Khán, who came to love this nephew more dearly than he loved his own children. He gave the child in charge to Khwája Ali Bahádur, who had formerly rendered great services to Sultán Said Khán, and appointed the Khwája, Atábeg to Bábá Sultán. The Khwája was a Moghul, and had spent most of his life in Moghulistán; he was very devoted to that country, and was always longing to be there. For this reason he begged the Khán to give Moghulistán and the Kirghiz country to Bábá Sultán, saying that he himself would take [the boy] to Moghulistán, and would arrange the affairs of the Kirghiz and of Moghulistán. The Khán consented to this, and wished to send [them] off. My uncle, since he was father-in-law to Bábá Sultán, did not overstep the bounds of loyalty, but as he disapproved of the plan, he represented [to the Khán] that the Moghuls had an unbounded love for Moghulistán. If Bábá Sultán were once established in that country, all the Moghuls would want to live in Moghulistán; if the Khán forbade the undertaking, Bábá Sultán would be offended; while if he did not forbid it, the departure of the people for Moghulistán would be a source of injury to the Khán; much anxiety would be caused, and the situation would give rise to many difficulties. “But if, [he went on to say] Rashid Sultán takes him there, he is your son, and it can do you no harm for the people to follow him. Even if evil should result, you have only to control him—a course which cannot injure him. Although Rashid Sultán is very young, it is advisable that he should go into Moghulistán.”
No one supported my uncle's opinion. Mirzá Ali Taghái in particular supported the side of Bábá Sultán.
In the meanwhile, Khwája Ali Bahádur died (a natural death), so that the proposal was entirely abandoned, and the Khán's attention was turned to Rashid Sultán, but heated discussions constantly arose concerning that matter. My uncle did his utmost to settle the affairs of Rashid Sultán quietly, and represented [to the Khán] that the right course to take was to release Muhammad Kirghiz from prison, where he had now been for a long time. He should [my uncle said] be brought out; a selection should be made from among the Moghuls who had flocks and herds and were desirous of returning to Moghulistán, and these, accompanied by some of the great Amirs, should all be sent off [to Moghulistán] together.
Finally the Khán approved my uncle's plan, and carried it out as had been suggested.
Having created Mirzá Ali Taghái commander-in-chief, and appointed Muhammad Kirghiz, Amir of the Kirghiz, he sent them away. Just at this time Ali Mirák Barlás died, and was succeeded in the service of Rashid Sultán, by his son Muhammadi bin Ali Mirák Barlás; he also accompanied the expedition.
Finally, at the insistence of my uncle, the Khán gave to Rashid Sultán one-third of all his regal possessions, whether in men, soldiers, money, tents, or felt dwellings [khargáh], and despatched him into Moghulistán. On the day of the departure of Rashid Sultán, [the Khán] sent to the haram for all his accoutrements, and said to me: “Fasten on his sword and quiver for him, and help him to mount his horse; it may be a good omen, and in the art of war he shall be your pupil.” I performed this service, and the Khán himself, having stood up, repeated several times the Fátiha,142a and then said: “Do not forget that it was Mirzá Haidar who first fastened on your sword for you, and that you are his pupil; should any one ask you, whose pupil are you in the art of war, what answer will you make?” Rashid Sultán replied: “[I shall say] that I am the pupil of such a one.” The Khán said: “He is my pupil.” Having repeated this several times, and having once more recited the Fátiha, the Khán sent the party off.
On the arrival of Rashid Sultán in Moghulistán, Muhammad Kirghiz brought together all the Kirghiz and entirely subdued Moghulistán, where at that time there was a large army. It would take too long to recount the details. However, in consequence of the opposition which Rashid Sultán and his followers and allies met with from the Uzbeg Kazák, and also because of the hostility of the Kirghiz, he was obliged to return to Káshghar. Then followed those incidents in connection with Bábá Sultán and Sháh Muhammad Sultán which I have given in Part II. Muhammadi Barlás was also concerned in these matters, for it was to him they entreated the Khán to give the heritage of Sháh Muhammad Sultán, by way of retaliation. My uncle and I, however, opposed this plan.
In short, in the winter of that year, 934 [1528], the Khán sent me with Rashid Sultán to Balur, and in Balur I managed all the affairs of the army. Rashid Sultán was then eighteen years of age. He had no cultured men in his service, and had never had practice in conversation [kasb-i-muhávara]. Those about him were all a sect of Muhammadans, who, though men in form, were but brutes in their manners, and what could he learn from the brutal ways of those people? In spite of my own want of power and capacity [istitáat], I was superior to these people, and I passed my time with Rashid Sultán. So that when we returned, some little time after, the Khán found his son quite another person, and he said several times, both before me and in my absence, to Rashid Sultán, that he was delighted [mastwar] with me. I had made Rashid Sultán a son to him, in that he had won many victories with this army; and [he added] “thanks be to God, my son has come so near to being what my heart would desire him to be.”
Meanwhile news came of the revolt of Aiman Khwája Sultán who was at Aksu, and in spite of my own and my uncle's efforts, we were unable to quell it. The account of this, and of the execrable proceedings of Mirzá Ali Taghái, will be found in Part II.
Finally, I was sent, together with Rashid Sultán, to Aksu. When we reached that town the whole population came out to receive us. Aiman Khwája Sultán presented himself before the Khán. I remained six months in Aksu, where I conducted satisfactorily all military and civil affairs. Before this, one day in Moghulistán, the Khán was eating almonds; he broke one with his (blessed) teeth, and found that it had two kernels. He thereupon sent for Rashid Sultán and myself, and gave one kernel to each of us, saying: “It is an excellent and significant custom that when two men wish to become friends, each should eat one of the kernels from a double almond, and then become friends to one another. Thus, like the two kernels in one shell, nothing will separate them, and though two in appearance, they will really be one. I have told you to do this that you may be friends.” Both of us then respectfully kissed the ground, and drew our horses close together. The outcome of which was that, while we were in Aksu, we lived in great concord. Our affection, our unity, our mutual regard and confidence were beyond description, and our friendship was confirmed by sworn covenants. If I were to write down a description of our friendship and concord, the reader would certainly doubt whether such a state of things really existed, and would attribute it to mere rhetoric. In a word, after six months we parted with a hundred regrets at separation, but in hope of meeting again, and I returned to wait on the Khán. At the hour of bidding farewell I extemporised an ode [ghazal], of which I here give four verses. [Verses] …
The year after my returning to his service, the Khán entered on a holy war in Tibet, sending me on in advance, so that before the Khán joined me, I had achieved a great deal in that country. An army of 5000 men was now in Tibet—a number that the country was unable to support. So I was obliged to retire to Kashmir, with Iskandar Sultán, younger brother of Rashid Sultán. Having passed the winter in Kashmir, I returned to the Khán the following spring. This I have related [elsewhere], so there is no object in stating [details] here. While with the Khán in Tibet, he sent me to destroy the Idol-Temple of Ursáng, while he himself returned to Yárkand. I made a journey of four months; but the Khán died on his way home. The Amirs who were with him at the time, sent express messengers to Rashid Sultán to acquaint him with the event. They also sent the news to my uncle, who came to be present at the Khán's funeral, and to take part in the lamentations [azá]. On the 10th of Moharram, 940 [2nd August, 1533], Rashid Sultán arrived, when my uncle, having raised lamentations [by way of condolence], entered the presence of Rashid Sultán and was immediately put to death, together with Ali Sayyid, who was the sworn friend of my uncle. To commemorate the date of the martyrdom of these two men, the chronogram “Kutilá fi(á)l-moharram” [940] was invented [meaning: the two men were killed in the month of Moharram.]
It is the practice of the humane and the usage of the generous (and of these two qualities kings make boast) that when a person at any time renders them some particular service, they reward that person with various presents and favours. My uncle was the son of the daughter of Yunus Khán, and for generations [his family] had been at the head of the affairs of the Moghul Sultáns and Khákáns. I have explained the prerogatives of the office of Ulusbegi, in Part II. My uncle was one of the most distinguished men in the service of Rashid Sultán's father, so much so that no one was more valued or prized than he; for he had rendered some most important services to Sultán Said Khán. The first was the conquest of Andiján, which became the keystone of the Khán's dominions.
His second service was on the expedition against Káshghar, where he made such exertions, that had he not been of the party, all hope of taking Káshghar would have been relinquished. The Khán was in consequence grateful for his services, and rewarded him with favours in proportion. If my uncle had never been of service to Rashid Khán—nay, had he even committed offences against him, his faults ought to have been overlooked. But in addition to this, his invasion of Andiján delivered Rashid Khán out of the hands of the Uzbeg. It was, moreover, owing to the efforts of my uncle that Rashid Khán subdued Moghulistán—an event which was the cause of enhancing his dignity, and the commencement of his prosperity. For had the advice of Mirzá Ali Taghái and Khwája Ali Bahádur been followed, Bábá Sultán would have been sent to Moghulistán instead of Rashid Khán. He had always endeavoured to represent Rashid Sultán in a good light to the Khán. Aiman Khwája Sultán had married his daughter, and by her had five sons, who were my uncle's grandsons; yet, notwithstanding this, when it was suggested that Rashid Sultán should be set up in the place of Aiman Khwája Sultán, and that this latter should be driven away, he made no objection, but rather exerted himself to the utmost to further the plan. It is not worth while here to detail his services.
It was most astounding that all this should have been ignored, and that he should, though innocent, have been put to death. It is therefore all the more fitting that his story should not be told more fully; what God willed came to pass. Moreover, the retribution for this act is in His power; and we should read and remember the verse, “Verily we belong to God, and unto God we return.” It is the more strange that those very mischief-makers who had caused a rupture in the affairs of Rashid Sultán, were those whom he raised to high dignities. In short, Mirzá Ali Taghái was appointed successor to my uncle, and was sent to Káshghar, where, on his arrival, he omitted no act of cruelty, such as putting to death my uncle's children and relatives…145a
In a word, the accession of Rashid Khán was characterised by the shedding of innocent blood, and by an absence of humanity. [Verses…] In the sight of the wise and pious, it is not right to shed blood, even for the kingdom of the whole world. After the murder of these faithful men, Rashid Khán established himself upon the throne of the Khánate. When the news of the death of the Khán reached Mansur Khán, he marched against Aksu, and Rashid Khán went out to meet him. Mansur Khán returned without achieving his object, and Rashid Sultán likewise returned to his seat of government. The attempt was afterwards repeated by Mansur Khán; Rashid Khán also marched out again, and returned with success and spoil. The Amirs in the service of the Khán became apprehensive, on account of my uncle having been put to death without cause. On this account they lost all confidence, and Mirzá Ali Taghái fled towards Karatigin. [Verses…]
When Mirzá Ali Taghái fled from that execrable devil,145b he was joined by the rest of the Amirs; and having seized some of the Khán's children, they all made off to Khotan and rose in open rebellion. Rashid Khán then went after them; all the people [of Khotan] came out to receive him, except a few of the Amirs who remained in the fort. These [Amirs] were all bound and brought before Rashid Khán, who spared their lives, but ordered them all to be banished. Thus he did not kill these men who had committed a crime and were deserving of death, and whose neglect of duty had been proved, though, on the other hand, he had publicly murdered my uncle, in spite of his near relationship, his countless services, his innocence of all offence, and his strong protestations of loyalty.
| [Verses.] | No one can comprehend the ways of this lower world, |
| The Godhead seems always to be upside-down, | |
| All faithful men come to a bad end, and the wicked triumph over them. |
After he had finished this affair of the Amirs, he banished all his paternal aunts and sisters and mothers; among the rest Zainab Sultán Khánim, who had been the favourite wife of Sultán Said Khán. He next contracted an intimacy and friendship with the Uzbeg-Shaibán, who had been old enemies (as has been already related), and did his best to exterminate the Uzbeg-Kazák, who were old friends; and to the Uzbeg of both sides [tribes] Rashid Khán gave his own sisters in marriage. As the Uzbeg-Shaibán were old enemies, Rashid Khán put an end to this [enmity] by giving his sister [in marriage], which was a base action. In short, having allied himself with the Shaibán, he entirely crushed the Uzbeg-Kazák. Still if we leave aside all consideration of the ancient covenant, the overthrowing of the Uzbeg-Kazák was, in truth, a mighty achievement. Since the time when Sultán Yunus Khán defeated Buruj Oghlán at Kará Tukái (in the year 877) up to this date, there have been many battles between the Uzbeg and the Moghuls, and the Uzbeg have always been victorious; for during all this time the Moghuls had never gained a single success over the Uzbeg. But Rashid Khán did gain a victory over them, and this exploit of his was a really great one. For although his grandfather, Sultán Ahmad Khán, overcame the Uzbeg (as has been related), yet it was only in plundering forays; he never won a victory over them in a real pitched battle. Rashid Sultán defeated their troops in order of battle.
Up to this point I have heard the story of Rashid Sultán from reliable sources in Hindustán and Kashmir, and have committed it to writing. After his victory over the Uzbeg he marched on Andiján and Turfán. But the sources from which I derived the details of this matter not being trustworthy, I have not thought fit to enter them, and have therefore drawn in the reins of my pen from [writing] of these things.
All those unworthy acts with which people have reproached Rashid Khán, were committed either for the sake, or through the efforts, of Muhammadi Barlás. The origin of this man's influence is not evident, for neither had he rendered such service as to merit elevation in rank, nor had he ever displayed such great bravery or good qualities, as to gain for himself distinction.
Rashid Khán was led, mounted, [murtakib] by him in all his affairs. If I were to relate all, the reader, who has not himself witnessed these things, would regard them as incredible. The epithet of “Himár” [Ass] which is applied to the tribe of Barlás, was, indeed, fully applicable to that particular Barlás. It would be quite out of place for me to relate how he urged Rashid Khán on to kill, or banish, his uncles and mothers and Amirs, and to change his haram; therefore I have thought it better to avoid this matter altogether.
At the present time the Most High God has delivered Abdur Rashid Khán from that calamity, and has carried off the ass [himár] with the drunkenness [khimár] of death. It is to be hoped that, this time, the reins of power may become united in the hands of intelligence, and that trouble may be kept at a distance. Also that the Khán may follow in the approved ways of his honoured father and distinguished ancestors; that his mind may be enlightened, and that he may not, for the sake of an ass, engage in the extirpation of meritorious persons.
May the Most High God, of His gracious favour, cause justice to issue from the throne of the Khánate for many years to come! May the Khán avoid all that is displeasing in the sight of God and His Prophet, and may he repent him of his former deeds! Amen! Oh Lord of the worlds!
Though Abdur Rashid Khán's powers of discrimination were faulty, he was strong of body, sound of limb, and without an equal in the art of conversation. Excepting his father, I have rarely seen an archer like him. He was brave even to rashness. In elegant conversation he was as a peerless pearl; and he had also written several letters to a great personage. He played several instruments to perfection, and had great aptitude for all arts and crafts. Once, for example, he cut a tree out of paper, and painted all the branches, the leaves, and the trunk in their proper colours; he did it so skilfully that even the masters of that craft were astounded. Since the time of my absence has been protracted, I cannot answer for all his acquirements. But in those arts which I was myself cognisant of, I know him to have excelled. Not being a musician, I cannot praise his performance on instruments with justice,147a nor can I say anything of what he acquired during my absence. He was, besides, a good Musulmán and inclined to justice and equity. But, by allowing himself to be influenced by the violent Muhammadi, he performed many unjust acts. Please God that he may now persist in the path of justice!
WHAT right have I, with my poor learning and my want of capacity, to attempt to make my styleless reed flow upon the white [sheet] of literature?
My justification lies in the fact that I have, during my life, collected many authentic facts concerning those Moghul Khákáns who were Musulmáns, and have also myself played a part in their history. At the present time there is no one but myself who knows these traditions. Thus, if I did not make the attempt, it is probable that the memory of the Moghuls and their Khákáns would be altogether lost.
The history of the Moghuls and their Kháns can be of little interest to any but the Moghuls themselves, for they have now become the most remote and insignificant of tribes, whereas formerly they were, through the power and resolution of Chingiz Khán, the lords of the world. Chingiz Khán had four sons to whom he left the world, dividing the cultivated countries and deserts into four parts, and giving one quarter of the earth to each of these sons. Every mention in histories of the Ulus Arbaa, or “the four hordes,” refers to these four divisions. The learned Mirzá Ulugh Beg has written a history which he has called Ulus Arbaa. One of the “four hordes” is that of the Moghul, who are divided into two branches, the Moghul and the Chaghatái. But these two branches, on account of their mutual enmity, used to call each other by a special name, by way of depreciation. Thus the Chaghatái called the Moghul Jatah, while the Moghul called the Chaghatái Karáwánás.148a At the present date there are no Chaghatái left excepting the kings, who are the sons of Báber Pádisháh; and the place of the Chaghatái is now occupied by some [other] civilised people. But of the Moghuls there are still about 30,000 in the neighbourhood of Turfán and Káshghar. Moghulistán has been seized by the Uzbeg and the Kirghiz. Although the Kirghiz belong to the tribe of Moghul148b they have, on account of their repeated rebellions against the Khákáns, become separated from them. All the Moghuls have become Musulmáns, but the Kirghiz are still infidels, and hence their hostility to the Moghuls. The Moghuls have become a most isolated and paltry people. No one but a Moghul could be interested in this history; but though fully recognising my lack of literary capacity, I have not shrunk from doing the best in my power.
It is the practice of authors to excuse themselves, and beg for pardon if they have made any mistakes or blunders in their work. But I will not make such apology as those who say:—“If there be any mistakes or blunders”—for I know that my book is full of mistakes from beginning to end. My object is not to extol my own merit, but simply to write a memoir, that the history of the Moghuls may not be entirely forgotten; and that if, by chance, any of the Moghul Khákáns should wish to know his genealogy, he shall be able to find it in this book.
Of those Moghuls who were not Musulmáns, I have not mentioned more than the names; for an infidel, though he attain to the splendour of Jamshid and Zohhák, is not worthy of having his life commemorated. This Tárikh-i-Rashidi was completed at the end of the month Zulhijja of the year 953,149a in the town of Kashmir (may God defend her from ruin and destruction) five years after I, Haidar Mirzá son of Muhammad Kurkán, had ascended the throne.
I WOULD lay before the wise and critical that I, the least of God's servants, Muhammad Haidar, known among my intimates as Mirzá Haidar, son of Muhammad Husain Kurkán, have been continually possessed of the thought that the rank and dignity which historians attain to, is not so high that one should have a craving for it. Still, there can be little doubt that this poor history (which has been driven by the whirlwind of pride and the waves of ignorance and intoxication, from the sea of incapacity upon the shores of small literary attainment) may be regarded as of some value by the divers in the ocean of excellence, who have concealed in the shells of perfection, the pearls of poetry and the precious stones of prose. According to the saying: “Necessity makes lawful that which is forbidden,” and because certain important events in the annals of the Moghul Khákáns have been entirely forgotten, I was induced, as far as time should permit, to narrate some of the most trustworthy facts in their history.
When the Moghul power was high, many eminent men flourished, and some wrote their people's history. Now, for more than a hundred years nothing of the sort has been done—no trace of these men remains, nor of their writings. Nor does any sign remain of their prosperity and civilisation, except here and there a ruined tower or fortification; and in some towns the relics of a monastery, a college, a mosque, a portico, or a minaret, still exist, because their foundations being of stone, or for some other reason, God willed that they should endure. No vestige of these men survives and no one knows anything concerning them. For during this long lapse of time, all have become strangers to the old customs and ways of learning. Since the conversion of the Moghuls to Islám, more especially, no history of them has been written. But the learned men of Mávará-un-Nahr and Khorásán and Irák, who have written the annals for their own kings, have made mention of the Moghuls, just where it has suited the context, while they have paid no attention to them when not connected with their own country. Among these histories may be mentioned the Mujma ut Tavárikh151a of Khwája Rashid-ud-Din; the Tárikh-i-Guzida 151b of Khwája Hamid Ulláh Mustaufi; the Zafar-Náma151c of Mauláná Sharaf-ud-Din Ali Yazdi; the Tárikh-i-Manzum151d of Mauláná Abdur Razzák; and the Ulus Arbaa151e of Mirzá Ulugh Beg. Among these I have sought carefully for any mention of the Moghul Khákáns, but have found nothing very connected [ba tartib]. In my early years, I was much drawn to the study of the history of my forefathers, and in those days there were still alive some of the Moghul Amirs and nobles (some over one hundred years of age, some under). But it never occurred to my father or my uncles to commit to writing what they had heard concerning the Khákáns, from their parents, and other trustworthy sources. And now they have all been dead for some time. [On this account] I intend, God willing, to write an account of the Moghuls after their conversion to Islám, basing my facts upon histories and reliable traditions, in addition to what I have myself witnessed in my own times. But not finding that I had capacity or talent sufficient to justify my setting out on this bold venture, I have resolved to begin by making a trial on those events of which I have been an eye-witness, and then, should I by the grace of God succeed, I will proceed with my original plan of writing the history of the Moghul Khákáns.
BEGINNING OF PART II. OF THE TÁRIKH-I-RASHIDI, WHICH CONTAINS, IN DIFFERENT PARTS, WHAT TOOK PLACE AMONG THE MOGHUL ULUS AND THE UZBEG AND THE CHAGHATÁI.
AT the time of my birth, which was in 905, and for which the chronogram Nur Chashm Sháh has been found, the power of the Moghul Khákáns was, compared with former times, on the increase; but at this period, the towns of Moghulistán (which is another name for Kará Khitái)152a fell into ruin, till in the beginning of the year 889, when Yunus Khán, [who affected] towns and cultivation, came into power. Most of the Moghuls had never possessed or even lived in a village—nay, had never even seen cultivation. They were as wild as the beasts of the mountains. The explanation of this is that the country of Shásh, together with its dependencies, was under the rule of the Moghuls, as were also all the deserts of Moghulistán. It would be tedious to relate this here, but, God willing, it will be mentioned in the First Part of this history.
My father was Muhammad Husain Kurkán, son of Muhammad Haidar Kurkán, son of the Amir, Lord of the Sword and the Throne, Sayyid Ali Kurkán, son of Amir Sayyid Ahmad, son of Amir Khudáidád, son of Amir Buláji. It was this Amir Buláji that introduced Islám, and changed the darkness of unbelief into the light of faith.
After my father entered the service of Sultán Mahmud Khán, son of Sultán Yunus Khán, sun of Vais Khán, son of Shir Ali Oghlán, son of Muhammad Khán, son of Khizir Khwája Khán, son of Tughluk Timur Khán (who also lightened the dark night of heathendom with the rising sun of the dawn of Islám), he was treated by the Khán with the utmost favour and honour (as is mentioned at greater length in the First Part of this history [Tárikh-i-Asl]) and had the title of Kurkán conferred upon him, as well as the honour of marriage with Khub Nigár Khánim. This alliance was contracted in Shásh in the year 899. After this he received the country of Ushtur Ushna (which is known now as Urátippa), together with as much of the surrounding country as he could bring within his power. He then had leave to depart, and spent nine years in the administration of the government of that district. During this time many important events occurred. I was born after my father had governed for six years.154a
I think it proper here to mention who were the princes who at this time ruled in the surrounding countries.
In the country of Farghána, whose capital is Andiján, after the death of Mirzá Omar Shaikh Kurkán, son of Sultán Abu Said Kurkán, serious quarrels and disputes arose between his two sons, Zahir-ud-Din Muhammad Bábar Pádisháh Gházi and Mirzá Jahángir,154b in spite of their youth; and these quarrels were chiefly owing to the enmity of their respective Amirs. There ensued many victories and defeats, some of which shall be mentioned in this Epitome.
In the country of Samarkand and Bokhárá, endless wars and contests arose between the three princes, Báisanghar Mirzá and Sultán Ali Mirzá (the sons of Mahmud Kurkán, son of Sultán Abu Said Kurkán) and Sháhi Beg Khán, son of Sháh Badágh Sultán, son of Abulkhair Khán, than whom, in his lifetime, there was no more exalted chief on the throne of the Juji.154c Of these wars and disputes I will speak hereafter.
In Khorásán, Sultán Husain Mirzá154d was at the height of his power and magnificence. From time to time the dust of dissension rose up between the father and his sons, but this the Mirzá, with his wisdom and sagacity, soon caused to subside.
In Irák, after the death of Sultán Yakub, son of Uzun Hasan,154e the Sultáns (his sons) by reason of their youth, were unable to direct the affairs of the State, and Sháh Ismáil (who had made his violence felt in the world) taking advantage of the situation, invaded the country, entirely exterminated the rest of those Sultáns, and upset all the affairs of the state and of religion.
In the Dasht-i-Kipchák and the Ulus of Juji Khán, Baranduk Khán154f was in power, and all the Juji Sultáns were subservient to him. They have sought to rival the rain-drops in their numbers. What took place between them and the Moghuls will be hereinafter related.
In Shásh, which is better known as Táshkand, Sultán Mahmud Khán held sway.
I must now turn to the story of Yunus Khán, without which the thread of my history would not be connected.
YUNUS KHÁN was the greatest of all the Chaghatái Kháns, and before him there was, in many respects, no one like him in his family. None of the Chaghatái Kháns who preceded him had passed the age of forty; nay, most of them never reached that age. But this prosperous Khán attained to the age of seventy-four. Towards the end of his life, growing repentant and devout, he became a disciple of that Refuge of the Pious, Nasiruddin Khwája Ubaidullah (in this history, wherever the term “His Holiness” is used, it refers to the Khwája), and him the Khán followed with piety. He was also acquainted with many other Shaikhs, and used to associate with them. His nature was adorned with many high qualities and virtues; he possessed also many acquirements, among which may be mentioned the reading of the Korán. He was of an even temper, his conversation was charming, and he had a quick perception. He excelled in penmanship, painting, and other accomplishments conformable with a healthy nature, and was well-trained in singing and instrumental music. He studied under Sharaf-ud-Din Ali Yazdi, with whom he spent twelve years, and travelled much in foreign countries. Of all these acquirements and travels, a more full account will (God willing) be given in the First Part of this history. He was graced with good qualities and perfect manners, was unequalled in bravery and heroism, and excelled especially in archery. In a word, no one of all his family can be compared to him. The Khán had seven children.
1. Mihr Nigár Khánim, whom he gave to Sultán Ahmad Mirzá. She died childless.
2. Kutluk Nigár Khánim, whom he gave to Omar Shaikh Mirzá. She had two children: Khánzáda Begum, who still honours the throne of chastity, and Bábar Pádisháh, who has illumined the world with the radiance of his power and his exploits, as I have recounted in the First Part, and will relate again in this Epitome whenever it suits the context.
3. Khub Nigár Khánim, who was given to my father, as has been mentioned above.
4. Sultán Mahmud Khán, a short notice of whose history will be given.
5. Sultán Ahmad Khán, known as Álácha Khán, of whom, also, I shall speak briefly.
6. Sultán Nigár Khánim, who was given to Mirzá Sultán Mahmud, son of Sultán Abu Said. She had one son, who is known as Mirzá Khán; and his son Sulaimán is, at the present time, king of Badakhshán.
7. Daulat Sultán Khánim, who fell into the hands of Timur Sultán, son of Sháhi Beg Khán, at the sacking of Táshkand. She too will be mentioned farther on.
AT the beginning of the reign of Yunus Khán, all the Moghuls dwelt, according to their old custom, in Moghulistán; they avoided all towns and cultivated countries [and regarded them] with great repugnance. They were Musulmáns in nothing but the name; in fact, not even in name, for they were carried off into the countries round about, and sold as slaves like other infidels. After the Khán had had the happiness to kiss the feet of his Holiness, the latter wrote letters to all the surrounding Musulmán rulers, saying: “We have seen Sultán Yunus Khán, and it is not lawful to molest a tribe whose chief is so good a Musulmán.”
From that date, no more Moghuls who had been carried off, were ever bought or sold as slaves, in a Muhammadan country. The Moghuls had always been this kind of [nomadic] people. The Khán felt that until they settled down in cultivated countries and towns, they could never become true Musulmáns. He therefore exerted himself to the utmost to bring their settlement about. When the Khán was leading away the Moghuls to Táshkand, a number of them who were loth to go, having seized the Khán's younger son, Sultán Ahmad Khán, abandoned the party and stayed behind in Moghulistán. The Khán meanwhile arrived in Táshkand with his elder son, Sultán Mahmud Khán, and the rest of the Moghuls. It would be tedious to relate their proceedings in this Epitome, but they will (God willing) be given in the First Part. When Yunus Khán went to the palace of eternity, he left the kingdom to Sultán Mahmud Khán, and the Moghuls, according to their custom, placed him on his father's throne. It is a common occurrence that those who inherit what their father has left them, do not appreciate its worth; thus the new Khán, undervaluing the great Amirs who had served his father, expelled them and set up, in their stead, weak-minded and base men: while his old friends being defeated, old enemies, who styled themselves new friends, now gained the supremacy. But in this new order of things, the Khán found it difficult to withstand these [new advisers]; nay, was incapable of keeping together his kingdom. When Alácha Khán heard of this, although he was occupied with rebellions and seditions on the confines of Moghulistán (which was under his rule), he did his best to punish those [who opposed him], and then, setting up his eldest son, Mansur Khán, in his own place, hastened to the court of his brother. This was in the year 907 [1501-2].
A year and a half previous to this meeting of the two Kháns, my mother journeyed from this transitory abode to the dwellings of eternity. She had six sons: two of them had died at the breast, four survived her, and of each of these I will speak hereafter.
One of the most curious facts in my own history is the following. While I was yet at my mother's breast, I was subject to such severe hæmorrhoids that the doctors gave up all hope of my recovery. My mother, before bearing me, had been four times disappointed in child-birth [ájiza]. She had prayed very earnestly to God to grant her a son, and after much prayer and supplication on her part, I came into existence; hence the unbounded love which my mother had for me. When my malady became alarming, she turned in every direction in search of help, till at length she went to Mauláná Muhammad Kázi, who was one of the most distinguished of the companions of his Holiness: so much so that even at this time his family have many disciples. When he had looked on me with his Christ-like glance,157a he became very thoughtful, and after he had gone out said: “If I had known that the Mirzá's son was in such a grave condition, I should not have come.” He ordered no remedy, except frugality, and then went on his way.
One morning he sent one of his servants to my parents, to tell them that the Most High God had sent to their child the wine of recovery and the meat of life, from His heavenly abode. When my parents heard this good news, they set out that same morning to the place of worship of this holy man, and laid their prayers before him. From that same day, marked signs of improvement showed themselves in me; and up to the present time I have never had a return of the hæmorrhoids. I would point out that in this matter two miracles were performed—one being my recovery without the aid of medicine, the other the fact that the malady never returned. And this is the more wonderful miracle of the two, for hæmorrhoids generally last all one's life. From that date to the end of his life, the Mauláná helped and instructed me, both publicly and privately.
The story of each [of the children] will be told in the proper place.
After these events my mother departed this life.
Shortly afterwards Sháhi Beg Khán, with the inopportune aid of Sultán Mahmud Khán, conquered Samarkand and Bokhárá, and defeated the Timuri Sultáns: in particular Bábar Pádisháh, who was Sultán Mahmud's nephew, and almost like a son to him. After [these successes] having changed his assurances of obedience and friendship, into boasts of pride and insubordination, he began to sound the drum of revolt.
In the meanwhile Sultán Ahmad Tambal, who had been in the service of Omar Shaikh Mirzá, although he belonged to the race of the Moghul Amirs, revolted in Andiján, on account of the improvidence of the Khán, and having got possession of that place, began to shoot the arrows of insurrection at the target of sovereignty. The two Kháns consequently went to crush him— Sultán Mahmud Khán, leaving his son Sultán Muhammad Sultán in Táshkand with a strong army, wherewith to oppose his perfidious enemies. My father, too, had been left in Urátippa to oppose Sháhi Beg Khán. And they imagined that the latter could not pass between these two armies. But in reality he looked upon it as an opportunity to be seized, thinking that he would never again find the two Kháns with so small a force. Therefore he hastened from Samarkand to Farghána, passing by Urátippa on his road. [My father] thinking he had come to lay siege to the town, began to busy himself with its defence. At the hour of afternoon prayer, [Sháhi Beg] came and encamped close to the town. After the sun had deprived the world of its light, and had thrown the shadows of night upon the eyes of all creation, he broke up his camp and marched away with all possible speed, so that before the men in the fort had begun to inquire in which direction he had gone, he was many farsákhs away. When it was discovered that he had marched towards Farghána, several messengers in succession were despatched, to give notice to the Kháns of his approach. The messengers and the enemy arrived at the same moment. Neither the army of Táshkand nor that of Urátippa, had time to come to the aid of the Kháns. The two Kháns had with them 15,000 men, because in the beginning of the year they had [collected a large force] to attack Tambal, whom they had severely handled, and whose power they had entirely subdued. For this reason, they felt sure that he would now resolve on flight as a last resource. They had taken Bábar Pádisháh with them, in order that after things were settled, they might set him up on his father's throne and then return home.
The Kháns had not yet reached Andiján. Akhsi, which is one of the strongest forts in that country, was occupied by Shaikh Báyazid, brother of Tambal; he was treating about submission, and for that reason they had tarried near the fort. At this juncture, Sháhi Beg Khán came up with 30,000 men, and all his Sultáns, such as Kuchum Sultán, Suyunjuk Sultán, Jáni Beg Sultán and others. They had hardly time to draw up in line, when, after a short conflict, the Kháns were put to rout by the overpowering numbers of the enemy. Their horses being rendered useless with fatigue, the two Kháns were taken prisoners. Bábar Pádisháh fled to the hills on the south of Farghána. Sháhi Beg Khán behaved with magnanimity, and having taken possession of Táshkand, dismissed the Kháns with every mark of favour, saying: “With your help and assistance I have won my power: I took you captive, but do not kill you: I let you go.”
In this place, I call to mind the story of the tax-gatherer [amaldár]. A certain governor had imposed a fine upon a taxgatherer, and went so far as to torture him [in order to make him pay it]. But a generous Khwája took pity on him, and bought him out of the hands of his creditors [by paying] the price of the fine, and taking him home with him, showed him every kindness and attention. One day the tax-collector was sitting with his son, and they were talking confidentially, while the Khwája was listening on the other side of the wall. The son said to his father: “How can we ever worthily repay the Khwája for his kindness?” The tax-collector answered: “As soon as I am again in office, the matter will be simple.” The son then asked: “How will it be easy to repay his generosity?” His father replied: “When they have again entrusted me with an office, I will press the Khwája very hard, and will give him over to the creditors, who will fine him heavily, and when it has come to a matter of life and death for him, I will take all his money, and with a part of it will buy him off again.”
When the news of the capture of the Kháns reached Táshkand, Sultán Muhammad Sultán carried off into Moghulistán, all that he was able of his people and family, and of the Moghul Ulus, causing my father and my uncle to follow him with all the money they could collect.
When the Kháns were captured, Sháhi Beg Khán said: “I have always wished to arrange a marriage, but it has never been granted me; to make up for this [disappointment] I must now form three marriage alliances.” The youngest sister of the Khán, Daulat Sultán Khánim, who has been mentioned above in the list of the children of Yunus Khán, was married to [Sháhi Beg's] son Timur Sultán.160a He took for himself Aisha Sultán Khánim, better known as Moghul Khánim, and gave to Jáni Beg Khán, Kutuk Khánim; both of these princesses were, in their chastity, bright as the sun and pure as the moon. Some of their children are living now, and are ruling in Mávará-un-Nahr.
On the return of the Kháns to their old residence, in Moghulistán, the younger fell ill, and at the end of the year 909, wandered from the garden of earthly dominion to the fields of Paradise.
From Khwája Tájuddin Muhammad, who inherited from his ancestors the office of Shaikh-ul-Islám of that country (and who was, in truth, a most admirable, austere man, and endowed with many good qualities) I have heard the following: “When the Khán was extremely ill, I said to him, ‘It is commonly reported that Sháhi Beg Khán has caused poison to be put in your food; if your Highness is also of this opinion, I will bring some of that powerful antidote, which comes from Khitái, and administer it.’ The Khán replied, ‘Yes, indeed, Sháhi Beg Khán has poisoned me, and the poison is this: having risen from the most degraded station to the highest elevation, he has taken us two brothers prisoners and then set us at liberty. This disgrace is the cause of my succumbing to illness. If yours is an antidote against this kind of poison, it may prove efficient.’”
Sultán Ahmad Khán had eighteen sons.
(1.) The eldest, Mansur Khán, from 909 to the present date of 948,160b has ruled over his father's dominions with absolute power. An account of him will be given in this Epitome.
(2.) Iskandar Sultán, who died a natural death, soon after his father's demise.
(3.) Sultán Said Khán, whose history will be related. Where-ever “the Khán” is spoken of in an absolute way, in this Epitome, it is this Khán that is meant.
(4.) Bábáják Sultán, who is still in the service of Mansur Khán.
(5.) Sháh Shaikh Muhammad Sultán, who, together with his haram and some of his children, was killed by the fall of his palace during an earthquake.
(6.) Sultán Khalil Sultán, of whom I shall have occasion to speak in connection with Sultán Said Khán.
(7.) Aiman Khwája Sultán, who will also be mentioned in the same connection.
(8.) Chin Timur Sultán, who for some time was in the service of Mansur Khán, whom he afterwards abandoned, and entered the service of “the Khán.” Mansur Khán had him brought back, but he again fled; this time going to the court of Bábar Pádisháh in Hindustán. Here he rendered good service, and was in return treated with the utmost honour and respect by the Emperor. He died of a violent dysentery at Agra, where he was buried.
(9.) Yusun Timur Sultán, who like his brother, being tired of always going backwards and forwards between the two Kháns, fled to the Kazák and thence to Turán; thence again to the court of Ubaid Ullah Khán in Bokhárá. From there he went to the court of Bábar Pádisháh; him also the Emperor treated most kindly, and he is now in Hindustán.
(10.) Tukhta Bughá Sultán, who also went to Hindustán, where he died a natural death.
The other sons died natural deaths, at different times.
Sultán Ahmad Khán had four daughters.
(1.) Lál Shád Khánim, whose mother was a slave whom the Khán had married [umm-valad]. Although she was outside the circle of distinction, she was finally married to Muhammad Amir Mirzá, son of Amir Jabar Birdi, who was a Dughlát, and to their family alone belonged the office of Ulusbegi in the time of Álácha Khán.
(2.) Máhim Khánim, who was given to Builásh Khán, son of Uyuk Sultán.
(3.) The third was married to me, as will be related below.
(4.) Khadija Sultán Khánim. After the death of Sultán Ahmad Khán, Mirzá Abá Bakr, whose story will be told in connection with the Khán, took possession of Aksu, the capital of Álácha Khán's dominions. In those days Khadija Sultán Khánim fell into the hands of Mirzá Abá Bakr. He, however, treated her kindly and gave her to his son Jahángir Mirzá. When the latter was slain, she was given to Sháh Muhammad Sultán, son of Sultán Muhammad Sultán, son of Sultán Mahmud Khán, as will be related.
ON the death of Sultán Ahmad Khán, Sultán Mahmud Khán resigned to his brother's children all the country and people that had belonged to their father, from the frontier of Khitái to the confines of Káshghar, viz.: Turfán, Chálish, Kucháh [Kuchar], Aksu and Uch [Ush-Turfán], while he himself withdrew, with those few of his own people who yet remained, to the deserts of Moghulistán. There he spent five years, during which time nothing of importance happened to him. At length those same base men who had caused the night shadows of ruin to overcloud the dawn of the Khán's reign, filled his mind with evil suggestions, saying: “Sháhi Beg Khán will treat you kindly, but even if he does not, he will at least allow us to return to this corner of corners.” My uncle used to relate that one day after the death of Álácha Khán, he was at the court of Sultán Mahmud Khán in Aksu, where the Khán, being friendly and talkative, asked him: “Is the position of scullion162a in Táshkand better than that of king in Aksu?” My uncle replied: “Verily it is, if the scullion is allowed to perform his office.” At these words the Khán was very wroth.
In short, these base men succeeded in bringing the Khán to Farghána. When news of this reached Sháhi Beg Khán, he was in Uláng-zádagán. He at once despatched a party of men to find him. These men were coming in exactly the opposite direction to the Khán, whom they met and slew, together with his five young sons, at Khojand. To commemorate the date of their martyrdom the chronogram “Lab-i-daryá-i-Khojand”=914, was devised. (This matter I will also speak of elsewhere.)
Sultán Mahmud Khán had six sons, five of whom suffered death with their father. His eldest son was Sultán Muhammad Sultán. When the Khán was setting out from Moghulistán, in the hope of being well treated by Sháhi Beg Khán, Sultán Muhammad Sultán had done his utmost to dissuade his father from going, but his words being of no avail, he separated from his father and stayed behind in Moghulistán. From circumstances which, God willing, will be related in the First Part [Tárikh-i-Asl], he was not able to remain in Moghulistán, but went in dire distress to Baranduk Khán and Kásim Khán163a in the Dasht-i-Kipchák. His followers, hoping that Sháhi Beg Khán had received Sultán Mahmud Khán well, led him by a wrong road and brought him to Táshkand, where the Uzbeg sent him to join his father. He left one son, whose name was Sháh Muhammad Sultán. His history will be given in my notice of the Khán.
WHEN the Kháns fell into the hands of Sháhi Beg Khán at Aksu, my father was at Urátippa. When Sháhi Beg Khán passed between [the two armies] it was not possible for my father to form a junction with the Kháns, and he found it necessary to go to Karátigin. At that time Khusrau Sháh, one of the Amirs of Mirzá Sultán Mahmud, son of Sultán Abu Said, was in possession of Hisár, Kunduz and Badakhshán. After the death of Mirzá Sultán Mahmud, he had blinded his son Sultán Masud Mirzá, and when Báisanghar Mirzá, son of Sultán Mahmud Mirzá, fled from Samarkand, Khusrau Sháh sent messengers to him to express his repentance, saying: “What I did, was from fear for my life, for Sultán Masud Mirzá had the intention of killing me; but now, in compensation for that act, I will serve you so faithfully that, however much my infamous act may have brought down upon me the execrations and curses of mankind, my conduct for the future will procure for me their favour and applause.” In this manner did he make abundant promises and protest so much, that he deceived Báisanghar Mirzá also, and sent that worthy prince into the next world, as if he were an arrow from a bow.
Thus he brought the whole of the dominion of Sultán Mahmud Mirzá under his own power. But these successes filled his mind with pride and vainglory. When he was thus at the height of his power, my father arrived in Karátigin, and Khusrau Sháh desired an interview with him. My father accordingly went to Hisár; and Khusrau Sháh, having received him in the Bágh-i-chinár, with the utmost distinction and friendliness, said to him: “I look upon your gracious visit as a blessing from God; for it is the season of Sháhi Beg Khán's supremacy. My fear is that though this year his mind is set upon the conquest of other territories, he may next year turn towards this quarter. I have never been to war with the Uzbeg, and do not know their mode of warfare. For every tribe has its own special methods, whether in war or in negotiation. The arrangement of these matters differs with each people according to time and place, and until their methods are known, it is difficult to contend with them. Now, as you have many times had to do with the Uzbeg, both in peace and in war, and have experienced, when at war with them, both victory and defeat, make known to me all that you have learned, that I may be guided by what you tell me. As my reliance is on you, and my hope, I beg you to accept, in confirmation of my confidence, Sultánim Begum, daughter of Sultán Ahmad Mirzá, and one of the princesses, [of my family] that she may be a bond of union between us.”
Such idle words and many more did he utter, and set on foot grand preparations for the marriage.
The destruction [viráni] of Táshkand and Urátippa was in the season of Cancer,164a and this affair took place in the end of the season of the Balance.164b
Meanwhile, news arrived of the invasion of Sháhi Beg Khán, and all the adherents of Khusrau Sháh fled in different directions. Those who possessed castles, fortified themselves in them, and those who had none, fled to the hills and the remote valleys and glens. No one troubled himself about his neighbour. As all Khusrau Sháh's people were scattered in confusion, my father also took refuge in Karátigin, which is a country of mountain fastnesses. Among these mountains they encountered a very severe winter. It began to snow as soon as they arrived, and for one whole month the weather did not clear, so that the snow reached to a depth of twelve spans, and for those who had settled in the valleys, or lived in houses, there was no possibility of changing their abode.
Now Sháhi Beg's purpose in coming [to Hisár] was not to seize Khusrau Sháh, but just to try whether Khusrau Sháh had power to withstand him or not. In that inroad he did not commit much violence. Whatever plunder did fall into his hands, he seized upon. He then returned, with the conviction that when he came a second time he would frighten away [Khusrau Sháh] as a fly from a dish, with a mere wave of his hand. That winter he also wished to test the people of Khorásán. Using the same means, he marched on Balkh, where the governor at that time was Sultán Kulunják, acting under Badi-uz-Zamán Mirzá, son of Sultán Husain Mirzá. He commanded his men to invest the town, and spent the whole of that winter in besieging it. The Khorásáni were, in spite of their numerous attacks on the enemy, unable to relieve Balkh. Thus, during that winter, he weighed Khusrau Sháh and the Khorásáni in the scales of experiment, and found that neither of them equalled himself in weight.
But while Sháhi Beg Khán was engaged in besieging Balkh, Khusrau Sháh was left free from molestation, and his men again assembled. In short, his affairs began to prosper, and he sent messengers without intermission to Sháhi Beg Khán, with suitable expressions of friendship, which Sháhi Beg Khán returned in kind. That winter, when Khusrau Sháh was recovering his peace of mind, news arrived from Karátigin that there had been a great fall of snow, so that no one was able to get away. Khusrau Sháh immediately despatched 20,000 men, under his brother Mir Vali.165a
Those in Karátigin were under no apprehensions from anything on his side, but remained where they were, far and near. When they learned the approach of the army, they immediately mustered all the men they could, to the number of about 500, and occupied the pass. The snow was so deep that no one dared leave the road. Both sides dismounted and the fight commenced. It lasted from morning till night. Finally our people had no arrows left, for on both sides every arrow that was shot was lost in the snow. The enemy were very numerous, and advanced to the fight in detachments; while as soon as the arrows of one detachment were expended, another came up to take its place and continued the fight. But we had on our side only one body, and towards evening, our arrows being entirely expended, our people turned and fled. Among the Amirs of my father, who died of arrow-wounds in that fight, were Bágh Yasár Oghlán, Khush Rái Kukildásh, and several more. My father escaped, with six others, towards the hills of the country of Farghána, which lie on the eastern side of that country, between Káshghar and Andiján. In those mountains are people whom they call Jagirák, and who, at that time, were great cattle-stealers. Not long after this, however, they were exterminated by Mirzá Abá Bakr.165b But Khusrau Sháh had carried away all our servants and retinue to Kunduz, where they spent one year as best they could.
Having reached this point in my narrative, if I omitted to give a short account of Sháhi Beg Khán, the chain of my history would not be continuous.
WHEN the great judge and disposer of all things determines to exalt some mortal with the crown of sovereignty and make him illustrious, he so arranges that great warriors and intelligent councillors assemble round his person, who may defend him from his enemies and ill-wishers, and make all far-sighted men blind and all attentive men deaf, so that father and son, brother and brother, are at enmity with one another. These words may serve as a preface to the story of Sháhi Beg Khán.
He was the son of Sháh Badágh Sultán, the son of Abulkhair Khán. After the death of Abulkhair Khán, disputes arose among those whom he had left behind. To such a length were these quarrels carried, that each one went in a different direction, and thus all the men of noble lineage—the Sultáns and the Mirzádas— who were held in esteem by the people, were scattered. In this confusion, Sháhi Beg Khán, after much suffering and wandering, being driven to extremity by want, went to Mávará-un-Nahr, where Sultán Ahmad Mirzá, son of Sultán Abu Said Mirzá, was reigning. Sultán Ahmad Mirzá was a powerful king, and had round him Amirs of such dignity and pretensions that they aimed at having kings in their service. One of these Amirs was Amir Abdul-Ali Tarkhán, Governor of Bokhárá. Sháhi Beg Khán became his vassal, and was entered as one of his retainers. In like manner several other Sultáns entered his service. From this circumstance, an estimate may be formed of the splendour and dignity of Sultán Ahmad Mirzá. As long as Sultán Ahmad Mirzá remained in the bonds of this life, Sháhi Beg Khán stayed in the service of Abdul-Ali Tar-khán. The Mirzá and Abdul-Ali Tarkhán died at about the same time, after which Sháhi Beg Khán went to Turkistán and sought the protection and favour of Sultán Mahmud Khán, who did not deny him what support and assistance lay in his power to give, till finally, by means of the aid afforded him by the Khán, Sháhi Beg Khán took possession of Samarkand and Bokhárá. Then the number of his troops rose from two or three hundred to 50,000; or rather to 60,000. From the time of his going to Turkistán, by the help of Sultán Mahmud Khán, his power had increased daily. All the Sultáns and Amirs, and other adherents of Abulkhair Khán, who had been wandering aimlessly in the wastes of the Dasht-i-Kipchák, now joined him; and thus he arrived at power.
After the reduction of Samarkand and Bokhárá, he turned against his own benefactor. Thus was the protector undone by the dependant. When news of this reached the ears of Álácha Khán, he set out from Moghulistán to his brother's aid. The result, as has been briefly related above, was that he captured and set at liberty the Khán [Mahmud], and took from him as many of the Moghuls as was possible. Thus to his Uzbeg army there were added 30,000 Moghuls. [Verses] …
Leaving Táshkand, he did not tarry long in Samarkand, but proceeded to ravage Hisár and to besiege Balkh (as has been mentioned). Having passed the winter of 909 [1503-4] in the siege of Balkh, he went, in the beginning of spring, to Samarkand, and remained a month or two in the open country [Sahári] round that town. He then turned his victorious arms against Andiján. The first year, when he captured the Khán, he did not trouble himself with Tambal or Andiján, being fully occupied in settling the affairs of Táshkand. Moreover, before the conquest of that place, Shaikh Báyazid had hastened fearlessly out to receive him, and had shown him signs of loyalty. Tambal also had proffered him timely assurances of devotion, with all of which he showed himself contented, and returned that same year. Having thus set his mind at rest with regard to the Moghuls and Táshkand, and having had an opportunity of forming an estimate of the Hisári and the Khorásáni, he wished first of all to settle the question of Andiján and Tambal, that he might, with a calm mind, proceed with the reduction of Hisár and the extermination of Khusrau Sháh, which was the first step towards the conquest of Khorásán.
When he reached Marghinán, which is one of the chief towns of Farghána, Tambal abandoned all the forts in Farghána, and collected a force within the fort of Andiján. On this news being brought to Sháhi Beg Khán, he and all his wisest advisers were agreed that this bringing together, into one place, of the troops [of Tambal] only made the conquest easier for them. With all speed, therefore, they hastened to Andiján, and being sure that they should find him, prepared for a siege; it was resolved that Sháhi Beg Khán should conduct the siege in person, while the rest of the Sultáns should ravage and spoil the country round, seizing the forts and men, and laying waste the whole region. The next year they would return to complete the work of devastation. But the hand of fate seized Tambal by the collar and hastened him to his end. He came out of the fort saying: “Let us meet them in the open field”; and he led 10,000 men out of the walls. When Sháhi Beg Khán arrived, Tambal, judging of their numbers from the dust they raised, retired. But before he could reach the fort, many of his men had fallen by the edge of the sword, and Tambal and his brothers, broken and terrified, crept into the citadel. It had been decided that that year they should lay waste his territories168a and then return home, so that the enterprise should be easy the next year. He himself, however, went to meet his fate: and thus the undertaking which was to have been accomplished the year following, was achieved in forty days. When Sháhi Beg Khán saw that the fugitives, in terror of their lives, had taken refuge in the fort, he resolved to shut them up and to push the siege vigorously forward.
After the defeat in Karátigin, my father crossed to the country of the Jagirák.
The most surprising thing of all was that, although news had reached [Tambal] of the movements of Sháhi Beg Khán, instead of making preparations to withstand the advance of Sháhi Beg Khán, he went to attack my father in Jagirák. The Jagirák, allying themselves with my father, took up a strong position in the valley of Turuk Shárán.168b On the arrival of Tambal, fighting began and lasted continuously for three days. I have heard my father say: “On the third day we had used every means in our power to hold our ground. When night fell we became very thoughtful and distressed, wondering what would become of us if the enemy renewed the attack, for most of our active men had been killed or wounded, and there was no one left. How will it be with us tomorrow? But when day broke we were filled with astonishment and wonder, for on going up to the top of the hill, we saw the army hurrying away with all possible speed, in divisions and detachments. Our joy and gratification knew no bounds, and we immediately sent off some of those who were not wounded, or whose wounds were not mortal, to obtain information. One man was brought in. He said that at midnight some one had brought news [to Tambal] that Sháhi Beg Khán had reached Kand Bádám, and on learning this, he had set out without delay. This news caused fresh life and immeasurable joy to spring up in us. We forthwith sent a messenger to Sháhi Beg Khán, to say that we had come to that country in great distress, owing to the confusion of times; that when news of the arrival of the Khán reached us it was as if life [ján] had come to us; whatever the royal mandate should lay upon us we were ready to perform. Our messenger reached Andiján on the second day of the siege. He was immediately sent back to tell us that we were desired to hasten on without delay, and that everything we could hope for or desire would be done for us. We were very apprehensive, but having no other place to go to, and deeming it the most advantageous plan for ourselves, we set out with light hearts.
“When I came into the Khán's presence, he showed me all honour and respect, and received me in the most friendly way, saying to all his Sultáns and Amirs: ‘Muhammad Husain Kurkán is our guest; I expect you all to entertain him as a guest.’ And every day, while the siege was in progress, all the Sultáns and Amirs entertained us with feasts and banquets and showed us marked attention.
“On the morning of the forty-first day, Tambal mounted to the top of one of the towers and called out with a loud voice: ‘I am a Mirzá, remember my services and the time of our infancy. Tell me what I should do—[and I will do it].’” (Now Tambal was my father's foster brother.) My father continued: “Although I had been very badly treated by him, it made my heart sad to see him in this evil plight, and I asked: ‘Why do you not strengthen the fortress?’ Tambal replied: ‘I cannot continue hostilities; what is to be done?’ I answered: ‘The only hope for the helpless is surrender.’ Timur Sultán was present. Tambal at once came out of the fort with his brothers. He came in confusion and alarm, and threw his arms round my neck. They [the Uzbeg] granted him no respite, but that same hour put them all to the sword. They then closed the gates of the fort, and would not allow any kind of plunder or rapine to be carried on.”
That country was then given to Jáni Beg Sultán, and Sháhi Beg, accompanied by my father, retraced his steps and arrived in Samarkand. [There] they spent a few days in military preparations, after which they set out to attack Khusrau Sháh. On reaching Hisár, they found the fort defended by Shiram Chahra, a dependant of Khusrau Sháh. Sháhi Beg Khán conducted the siege in person, but after a few days Shiram Chahra begged for quarter, and coming out, surrendered the fort. The Khán, observing his promise,169a let Shiram go. Shiram stayed for a time among the followers of the Khán, and many who had formerly been attached to him, now rejoined him.
It is not known how it came about, but the same day that the Khán began, personally, to lay siege to Hisár, he also sent a mandate to Mahmud Sultán, ordering him to take as many men from the army as he wanted, and to advance on Kunduz.
Khusrau Sháh for a long time past had been filling Kunduz with stores, provisions and treasure, and had proclaimed that he had supplies enough to last him for twenty years. If all else should fail [he said] we shall, at least, be able to remain inside the fort for twenty years, dead or alive.
While he was busy with this vain boasting, news came that Sháhi Beg Khán was laying siege to Hisár, and that Mahmud Sultán was crossing the River Amuya.170a That same hour, abandoning all his stores, he packed up whatever he could, and in the utmost confusion and disorder, set out for the hills, hoping there to find a refuge. A few days later, Mahmud Sultán entered Kunduz, where I myself happened to be, with my sisters and my younger brother. It has been stated already, that a marriage connection had been formed between my father and Sultánim Begum, and after the above related circumstances, we were carried off to Kunduz. During our sojourn there, Sultánim Begum gave birth to a son, named Abdullah, whose history will be told in various connections. My father had accompanied Mahmud Sultán, for the greatest intimacy existed between them. The reason for this was as follows. In his earlier days, Sháhi Beg Khán had made every possible effort to obtain supreme power, and was bound by no promises or agreements. Whenever an occasion offered he pushed his ambitious projects: if he was successful he would say: “It was God's will”; if he failed he was always ready with a thousand excuses and pretexts. In this way, frequent misunderstandings arose between him and Sultán Mahmud Khán. The wonder is that in every instance, his pretext, such as it was, should have been accepted. It would be tedious to enter here into the details of this matter, which will be given in the First Part [Tárikh-i-Asl]. I will, however, give one instance in this place. Sháhi Beg was then in Turkistán at the height of favour and prosperity, when Sultán Mahmud Khán led an army against Tambal. After three days' march, in consequence of some untoward events (mentioned in the Tárikh-i-Asl) his projects were frustrated and he marched back again. All the Amirs who had come from [beyond] the frontiers to join the army, now returned and settled down again within their own territories.
When news of the Khán's expedition reached Sháhi Beg Khán in Turkistán, he at once placed the foot of ambition in the stirrup of enterprise, and marched to attack Táshkand. He sent Mahmud Sultán against Sairám, which in old books is called Isbijáb,171a but while on his road he learnt that the Khán had returned. He instantly sent a messenger to say that his Highness had set out to punish his rebellious vassal Tambal, while he had come to protect Táshkand, and [the Khán's] family and household. (Though except himself there was no one to hurt them.) Hearing of his Highness's return to his capital, he had also returned, and, in effect, he did go back to Turkistán. He moreover despatched swift messengers to Mahmud Sultán, enjoining him, likewise, to molest no place, but to return. But before the messengers could arrive, Mahmud Sultán, supposing Sairám to be unprotected, had begun to plunder. The Governor of Sairám was Amir Ahmad, one of the Itáráji Amirs, and uncle of Tambal, but unlike his nephew, he was a worthy man and a devoted servant to Sultán Mahmud Khán. He went out to check Mahmud Sultán, and the two forces met, when Mahmud Sultán was seized and brought bound before the Khán. The Khán sent for my father, who, on his arrival, begged that the prisoner's life might be spared; therefore he [Mahmud] was treated with great kindness and then allowed to depart. On this account a very close intimacy and warm friendship sprang up between my father and Mahmud Sultán. He accompanied Mahmud Sultán to Kunduz, and there caused us to rejoin his own party; thus our families and households arrived at Shahr-i-Sabz, a town which Sháhi Beg Khán had given to my father as a fief. From the time of the return from Balkh to that now mentioned, only one spring had elapsed. At the beginning of the winter, Sháhi Beg Khán set out against Khwárizm, while my father fled into Khorásán.
In this place, for the proper understanding of what followed, it will be necessary to give some account of Bábar Pádisháh and Sultán Said Khán. Some further details will, God willing, be given in the First Part.
THERE existed anciently, between the Chaghatái and the Moghuls, a bitter enmity. Moreover, from the time of Amir Timur till that of Sultán Abu Said Mirzá, some one of the race of Chaghatái Khán, son of Chingiz Khán, had always been placed on the royal throne, and was honoured with the title of King, in spite of the fact that he was [in reality] a prisoner, as one may gather from the royal mandates. When it came to the turn of Sultán Abu Said Mirzá to reign, this king discarded the old custom; Yunus Khán was summoned from Shiráz, and was sent into Moghulistán to oppose his brother Isán Bughá Khán. But in this Epitome there is no space for an account of the removal of the Khán to Shiráz, of the Khánship of Isán Bughá Khán, or of the reign of Sultán Abu Said Mirzá.172a
To be brief, Sultán Abu Said Mirzá said to Yunus Khán: “The old order of things has been changed; you must now lay aside all your [former] pretensions: that is to say, the royal mandates will be issued in the name of this dynasty [tabaka], and henceforth there must be friendship between us, and a bond of union.”
When Yunus Khán came to Moghulistán, he, after thirty years of hardship and suffering, got the upper hand of Isán Bughá Khán, as will be briefly related in connection with the history of Sultán Said Khán and Mirza Abá Bakr.
The noble mind of Yunus Khán was thus set at rest; Sultán Abu Said Mirzá changed an old enemy into a new friend. Yunus Khán was desirous of making a return for his kindness, and [said to himself]: “Perhaps in the same way that he has changed an old enemy into a new friend, I will change a friend into a relation.” To this end, he gave to the three sons of Mirzá Sultán Abu Said (namely, Sultán Ahmad Mirzá, Sultán Mahmud Mirzá, and Omar Shaikh Mirzá) three of his daughters in marriage; the names of these three daughters being Mihr Nigár Khánim, Sultán Nigár Khánim, and Kutluk Nigár Khánim. (These have all been already mentioned.)
As Farghána, the country of Omar Shaikh, was situated on the borders of Moghulistán, [Yunus Khán] became more intimate and friendly with him than with either of his brothers: indeed, the Khán made no distinction between him and his own children, and whenever they pleased they used to come and go between each other's countries and residences, demanding no ceremony, but being satisfied with whatever was at hand.
On the occasion of the birth of Bábar Pádisháh, a messenger was sent to bear the good tidings to Yunus Khán, who came from Moghulistán and spent some time with [Omar Shaikh]. When the child's head was shaved, everyone gave feasts and entertainments. Never were two kings known to be on such terms of intimacy as were Yunus Khán and Omar Shaikh Mirzá. In short, the Pádisháh was born on the 6th of Moharram of the year 888. Mauláná Munir Marghináni, one of the Ulamás of Ulugh Beg Mirzá, discovered the date in the [numerical value of the letters] of Shash Moharram. They begged his Holiness to choose a name for the child, and he blessed him with the name of Zahir-ud-Din Muhammad.
At that time the Chaghatái were very rude and uncultured [buzurg], and not refined [bázári] as they are now; thus they found Zahir-ud-Din Muhammad difficult to pronounce, and for this reason gave him the name of Bábar. In the public prayers [khutba] and in royal mandates he is always styled ‘Zahir-ud-Din Bábar Muhammad,’ but he is best known by the name of Bábar Pádisháh. His genealogy [is as follows]. Omar Shaikh Kurkán, son of Sultán Abu Said Kurkán, son of Sultán Muhammad Mirzá, son of Mirán Sháh Mirzá, son of Amir Timur Kurkán. And on the mother's side: Kutluk Nigár Khánim, daughter of Yunus Khán, son of Vais Khán, son of Shir Ali Khán, son of Muhammad Khán, son of Khizir Khwája Khán, son of Tughluk Timur Khán. This prince was adorned with various virtues, and clad with numberless good qualities, above all of which bravery and humanity had the ascendant. In the composition of Turki poetry he was second only to Amir Ali Shir. He has written a Diván, in the purest and most lucid Turki. He invented a style of verse called “Mubaiyan,” and was the author of a most useful treatise on Jurisprudence, which has been adopted generally. He also wrote a tract on Turki Prosody, superior in elegance to any other, and put into verse the Rasala-i-Válidiyyah of his Holiness. Then there is his Vakái173a or Turki History, which is written in a simple, unaffected, and yet very pure style. (Some of the stories from that work will be reproduced here.) He excelled in music and other arts. In fact, no one in his family before him ever possessed such talents as his. Nor did any of his race ever perform such wonderful exploits, or experience such strange adventures, as did he. He was twelve years of age when his father, Omar Shaikh Mirzá, died. In his Vakái, which, though in Turki, is written in very elegant and florid style, he says: “On Monday, the 4th of Ramazán, Omar Shaikh Mirzá having flown from the top of the precipice with his pigeon and his pigeon-house, became a falcon, at the age of thirty-nine.”174a This occurred in the year 899, and after his father's death Bábar Pádisháh was raised to the throne, being, at that time, twelve years of age. There was so much dissension between Báisanghar Mirzá and Sultán Ali Mirzá (the sons of Sultán Mahmud, son of Sultán Abu Said),174b that neither of them had strength enough to protect Samarkand. When information of this [state of affairs] reached Andiján, the Emperor set out to attack Samarkand. Although the Mirzás had become very weak, they offered him stout resistance; but finally, Báisanghar having no power left, abandoned the town and fled towards Hisár, where he was put to death by Khusrau Sháh (as already mentioned). The Emperor took Samarkand, and quartered in it as many of the troops of Andiján as was possible, while the rest returned to Andiján, some with his permission, some without.
On the arrival of Tambal, of whom we have spoken, he, in conjunction with some other Amirs, set Jahángir Mirzá, younger brother of the Emperor, upon the throne.
The Chief Judge [Kázi] of Andiján, a very pious and religious man, who had done everything in his power to forward the Emperor's interests, was wantonly put to death. A short time before the murder of the Kázi, the adherents of the Emperor had strengthened and defended the fort of Andiján, and had sent letters of entreaty [to the Emperor], representing that if he did not come quickly, Andiján would fall, and that after it Samarkand would also succumb. On receiving these letters, the Emperor left Samarkand, and set out for Andiján. On reaching Khojand, however, news was brought him that the enemy had won the day. The Emperor, having left one place, and lost the other, was greatly perplexed, and betook himself to his uncle, Sultán Mahmud Khán.
The Emperor's mother, and her mother, Isán Daulat Begum, went to their son and sister. This sister was my mother. On this account the Emperor, also, stayed in our country. His hosts exerted themselves to the utmost on his behalf, and after many severe hardships, after many victories and defeats, the Emperor once more became ruler of Samarkand. He fought many battles with rival claimants for Samarkand, and experienced both victory and defeat. At length he was besieged, and when all his power of resistance had gone, he gave his sister, Khánzáda Begum, to Sháhi Beg Khán, and making some kind of treaty, left Samarkand, which thus fell again into the hands of Sháhi Beg Khán. It would be very tedious were I to relate all the details; however, to be brief, the Emperor [again] repaired to his uncle. Having given up all idea of [regaining] Samarkand, he determined to secure Andiján. The Kháns also, having bound the girdle of endeavour round the waist of fatherly love, exerted themselves to the utmost to take Andiján, that they might give it to the Emperor, with the result which has been mentioned above. After the last battle, in which the Kháns fell into the hands of Sháhi Beg Khán, the Emperor fled to the hills on the south of the country of Farghána, where he underwent many hardships and innumerable misfortunes. Moreover, his mother was with him, as were also most of his servants, together with the family and children. In that journey (and verily, as the Prophet himself said, “Travelling is a foretaste of Hell”) they all suffered great hardships, and with difficulty reached, at length, the territory of Hisár, which is the capital of Khusrau Sháh, hoping that they might participate in the humanity for which he was renowned. But he, like the heavens, changed, and averting the face of compassion, turned the back of unkindness towards that master of benevolence. But beyond this he did not do them any injury. And thus, in the same state of dejection, affliction, apprehension, and evasion, they passed on towards Ghuri and Baklán. When they reached this quarter, the back of their strength being broken, and the foot of vigour being bound, they tarried for a few days.
How often in misfortune is there a hidden blessing! Although waiting in that place was a cause of great affliction to them, it turned out most providentially, and in a way which the most farsighted person could not have foreseen. For at this very crisis, the advance of the standards of Sháhi Beg Khán on Hisár, and the approach towards Kunduz of the drums of Mahmud Sultán, caused the boasting Khusrau Sháh to desert his kingdom, as has been related above. He, too, fled to the hills of Ghuri; and on his arrival there, learnt that the Emperor was still among the mountains. That same night his servants and retinue, both greas and small, from the Mir to the groom, all flocked to the court of the Emperor. Khusrau Sháh saw nothing left for it but to hasten also to offer his services. Yet this man had put out the eyes of one of the Emperor's cousins, Sultán Masud Mirzá, and had brought Masud's brother, Báisanghar Mirzá, to the bier, after having raised him to the throne; also, at the time when the Emperor had arrived on his frontier, he had, with extreme harshness, ordered him to quit the country.
Moreover, Mirza Khán, a younger brother of the cruelly-treated Mirzás, whose father and mother were both closely connected with the Emperor's father and mother, had shared in all the Emperor's sufferings and trials in the mountains, and was at this time with him. When Khusrau Sháh arrived in the Emperor's presence, Mirzá Khán petitioned that he might be put to death, by way of retaliation for his treatment of his [Mirzá Khan's] two brothers. The Emperor, whose natural disposition was a humane one, said to Mirzá Khán: “It would be a pity, a thousand pities, to compare two good angels with this devil of a king, and to such purpose did he pierce the pearls of love with the diamond of mercy, that at last he caused Mirzá Khán to desist from his demand and be satisfied. When Khusrau Sháh looked upon the Emperor and Mirzá Khán, the forehead of his folly became moist with the perspiration of shame, but the Emperor wiped it clean with the sleeve of forgiveness and the skirt of pardon. When the audience was terminated, the Emperor commanded the treasurers to take back all the property, treasure, horses, etc., which they had brought to him, just as they were, although he had only one horse suitable to his rank, and that was used also by his mother. From this an idea may be formed of what necessaries [he had at his command]. He ordered that none of [Khusrau's] effects should be confiscated. Although the Emperor was very needy, he would not take any of the presents, but gave him back all his arms and treasures untouched, and declined all that was offered. This is one trait out of a thousand, in the Emperor's character. Khusrau Sháh, having obtained permission to go to Khorásán, separated from the Emperor, and proceeded to his destination. It is astonishing that, with such a force as he had, he did not attempt to defend his own State. Having got some help from Khorásán, he went and attacked Kunduz, where he was put to death without much ado. Verily the murder of a master, or a master's son, is a portentous deed!
The Emperor, in one night, became master of 20,000 men, together with great Amirs, such as Báki Chaghániáni,177a Sultán Ahmad Karául, Báki Nila Furush and others, who took office under him.
[Having made the necessary preparations] they set out against Kábul. After the death of the Emperor's uncle, Ulugh Beg Mirzá of Kábul, Mukim, son of Zunnun177b Arghun, one of the Mirzás of Sultán Husain, had taken possession of Kábul. Immediately on the arrival of the Emperor, he went out to oppose him, but seeing the enemy's superior numbers, he fled back and prepared to defend himself in the fort of Kábul. At length, being unable to hold out, he begged for quarter and surrendered the fort. Faithful to his agreement, the Emperor allowed him to proceed to Kandahár, with all his effects and followers. From that date, 909, to the present date, 948, Kábul has remained in the hands of the Emperor and his descendants.
Having brought down my history to this point, it is time to turn to the proceedings of Sultán Said Khán; also to those of my father, of his journey to Khorásán, and of his relations with the Emperor. The first part will be given briefly, and the latter part in detail.
BEGINNING OF THE STORY OF SULTÁN SAID KHÁN, SON OF SULTÁN AHMAD KHÁN, SON OF SULTÁN YUNUS KHÁN, AND THE SUFFERINGS AND HARDSHIPS HE ENDURED AT THE OUTSET OF HIS CAREER.
[Here follows a somewhat lengthy dissertation on the advantages of misfortune, into which is introduced an anecdote in verse concerning Moses, taken from the “Salsalat-uz-Zahab” or “Golden Chain” of Abd-urrahman Jami, and also an account, in prose, of the Education of Nushiriván the Just.] Wherever in this Epitome the Khán, in an absolute sense, is mentioned, Sultán Said Khán is meant.178a This Khán had many wonderful adventures. As one of the chief objects of this Epitome is to set forth the virtue and ability of the Khán, I shall enter into detail.
His most noble lineage has already been given. From the time of his birth to the age of fourteen, he spent his days under the fond care and kind protection of his father. When he reached the age of fourteen, his father, Sultán Ahmad Khán, better known as Álácha, wished to go to the assistance of his elder brother, Sultán Mahmud Khán. He therefore appointed his eldest son, Mansur Khán, to fill his place on the throne, and took with him to Táshkand, two sons who were younger than Mansur Khán, namely, Sultán Said Khán and Bábáják Sultán. The Khán was with his father at the battle of Akhsi, in which the Kháns were captured, as has been mentioned. When the army was thrown into disorder and every man was trying to save his own life, the Khán also took flight, but at that moment he was struck in the thigh by an arrow, which, piercing his armour, struck the bone. As his father's army was routed he had no means of escape. Some men of the district captured him, and as he was, at the time, unable to walk, they refrained from carrying him as a present to anybody, but took care of him for a few days.
Sháhi Beg Khán returned in haste to settle his affairs in Táshkand. By the time the Khán had recovered his strength, Shaikh Báyazid had taken upon himself the government of Akhsi. The Khán, as soon as he was sufficiently recovered to be moved, was brought before him, and by his orders was thrown into prison, where he remained a whole year.
When Sháhi Beg Khán arrived [in Táshkand] he seized and put to death Tambal, and gave the government of Andiján to Jáni Beg Sultán. When this latter came to Akhsi, the Khán was brought before him. Jáni Beg Sultán recommended him to the favour of Sháhi Beg Khán, who received him with compassion, kept him in his fatherly care, and denied him nothing. He, moreover, took the Khán with him on the expedition in which he conquered Hisár and Kunduz.
I have heard the Khán relate, in terms of wonder and admiration, that when Sháhi Beg Khán had conquered Hisár, news was brought of the taking of Kunduz by Mahmud Sultán. Sháhi Beg Khan, having entrusted Hisár to Hamza Sultán and Chaghánián to Mahdi Sultán,179a set out quietly on his return. “As the pass of Darband-i-Ahanin [The Iron Gate] was very difficult [continued the Khán], and as the army was much burdened with booty, they made the journey, farsákh after farsákh, by way of Buya and Tirmiz. While the victorious army was encamped at Buya, I was sitting once, at midday, in the royal tent [majlis]. The hour for the assembly had not yet arrived, and only a few of the king's intimates were present, when somebody with a terrified countenance and wild appearance came in great haste, and laid a letter at the foot of the royal throne. As [Sháhi Beg] perused the contents of this letter a great change came over him, and before he had finished reading it, he rose up and went in to his haram, giving orders for his horse to be brought. He remained for some time in the haram; but after midday prayers came out again and mounted his horse. He was attended by a great number of people. Then it was made known that Mahmud Sultán had died a natural death in Kunduz, and that his body was on the way [to the camp]. When Sháhi Beg Khán had got some distance away, we saw a great crowd in pitch-black clothes, such as captives wear. Having placed the bier upon the ground, they drew up in two lines behind it. When [Sháhi Beg Khán] saw this, he made a sign for all the Sultáns and others to dismount and follow in his train. These, having obeyed, began to raise cries of grief and lamentation, and we, in the camp, also commenced to utter moans and wailings. When those attending the bier approached, he ordered all who were with him to draw up in a line, while he himself rode forward until his horse's head was just above the bier; he then gave a sign for everyone to keep silence, and thereupon those who were with him ceased from rending their garments and tearing their beards He then called one of the Amirs of Mahmud Sultán, and said to him such things as are usual on occasions of condolence. After this he remained silent for a while, never showing the slightest change in his countenance, nor shedding a tear. At the end of an hour he raised his head and said: ‘The death of Mahmud is a good thing: men have been wont to say that the power of Sháhi Beg Khán was upheld by Mahmud: let it now be known that Sháhi Beg Khán was in no way whatever dependent upon Mahmud. Carry him away now, and bury him.’ Having said this, he turned away, and all present were astounded at his boldness and composure.”
The death of Mahmud Sultán was a great loss to the Moghuls, for he was, in every respect, a thorough Moghul [and they recalled all he had done for them].
When Sháhi Beg Khán reached Samarkand, Sháh Begum arrived from Moghulistán. The details are briefly these: Sháh Begum was the mother of the Kháns, was daughter of Sháh Sultán Mahmud, King of Badakhshán, and of the race of Iskandar Zulkarnain. She had accompanied her son, Sultán Mahmud Khán, into Moghulistán. But those base advisers, of whom I have already spoken, provoked a quarrel between the mother and her son—a son who had been so obedient to her, that he had never even mounted for a ride without her permission. Between these two, they contrived to raise the dust of vexation and wrath. For they—cunning advisers that they were—decided to send Sháh Begum to Sháhi Beg Khán to solicit a country for herself, because she found living in Moghulistán distasteful. Such was the impracticable mission upon which they sent Sháh Begum. Now, as the Begum was a very sensible woman, she went under this pretext, and thus left her son, before those base advisers could bring about an open rupture, which would cause endless scandal and reproach to herself. The rumour was that she had gone to entreat [Sháhi Beg Khán], while she was [in reality] in Samarkand enjoying the company of her children.
At this same time [Sháhi Beg Khán] led an army into Khwárizm, and my father fled to Khorásán, as shall be presently related.
The Khán told me: “After the Mirzá's flight we were so overcome with apprehension, that sixteen of us having banded together, we fled from Samarkand, and journeyed by way of Khutuk and Kará Tukái to Sairám. Thence we went on to Moghulistán by way of Uzun Ahmad, and arrived at Haft Deh, which is better known as Yatikand,180a where Sultán Mahmud Khán was living at the time.” It has been already related that after the death of Sultán Ahmad Khán, Sultán Mahmud Khán came into Moghul-istán. The latter was a weakly prince and very lax and careless in the affairs of State.
Now Moghulistán is a country which does not admit of any such negligence and callousness in its administration, and for this reason Sultán Mahmud Khán was not able to remain there long, but came, with a desire to live a civilised life, to Yatikand, where there is [indeed] some cultivation. When he had been there a short time, the Khán went and attached himself to his uncle, Sultán Mahmud Khán. The Khán passed some time in the service of his uncle; but he was an energetic and enterprising man, and being unable to endure the negligence and indolence of his uncle, he fled from his court. Sultán Mahmud Khán sent a party after him to bring him back. After three days' march he was overtaken, when a fight ensued. In the heat of the action, a certain Maksud Ali, one of the courtiers of Sultán Mahmud Khán (and a man skilled in instrumental music and singing), displayed great valour, and the Khán seeing that the brunt of the battle was supported by him, rode up to attack him. Thereupon Maksud Ali turned and fled, but while retreating faced round and shot an arrow, which struck the Khán in the left shoulder. The collarbone was broken, and passing under his left shoulder blade the arrow reached his right shoulder blade. [In this state the Khán tried to overtake Maksud Ali], but in spite of his efforts, his hand would not wield the sword, and his enemy got away in safety. The Khán then turned back [from the pursuit]. His wound proved very serious, and during two years he was deprived of the use of his right eye and his right arm.
Later in the day Maksud Ali fell into the hands of one of the Khán's men, who thought to himself: if I bring him alive to the Khán, that he may put him to death with his own hands, he will be more grateful to me [than if I bring him dead]. So he took him alive before the Khán. But the Khán, assuming a cheerful air, called to him and said: “I am glad you have fallen into my hands. I was sorry [for what had happened].” And although he had only one garment by him, he gave it him, together with a present of some horses, and kept him in Moghulistán to the end of his days, always looking on him with the eye of favour.
The Khán's generosity was quite unbounded. Other examples will be given in their proper places. In short, after being wounded and enduring great hardships, he joined his brother Sultán Khalil Sultán. This latter, after the death of his father, had fled from Mansur Khán into Moghulistán, and had joined the Kirghiz, who are the “wild lions” of that country. They made him their chief. He remained some time with his brother, but finally war broke out between them on the one hand, and Sultán Mahmud Khán, in alliance with Mansur Khán, on the other, which led to victories and defeats, struggles and conflicts, and great and wonderful battles. In those fights such wounds were inflicted, that no reasonable person would consider them capable of being cured. But the details are not worth describing. These hostilities continued from 910 to 914, when Sultán Mahmud Khán, being hard pressed by his nephews and the people of Moghulistán, went over to Sháhi Beg Khán (as has been related). Mansur Khán then attacked his two brothers, Sultán Said Khán and Sultán Khalil Sultán, who had remained in Moghulistán. They, for their part, met him in the open field at Almátu,182a one of the most celebrated places in Moghulistán, when after a hard fought battle the Sultáns were worsted.
Sultán Khalil Sultán, all his prospects of success in Moghulistán being shattered, followed his uncle [Mahmud], in the hope that Sháhi Beg Khán had received the latter kindly; and when he reached Akhsi, Jáni Beg Khán having seized [him] delivered him to my uncle Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá, Sultán Ali Mirzá Begjik and Tubra Tiághuth, [with the order] that he should be drowned in the river. They, being obliged to obey this order, drowned the unfortunate Sultán in the river of Akhsi. It will be mentioned later, how the Khán, a short time after this event, heaped favours and patronage upon those men whose brother he had murdered.
When the Khán escaped from the field of battle, he was accompanied by about fifty men with their cattle and followers, all in great want. Broken and discomfited, they came from Almátu to Dulán (about fifteen days' march at a medium pace). On arriving there, they began to grow less afraid of the enemy. That same day, they came across a man whom they seized and interrogated. He informed them that at Uruk, which was distant about three days' march, at an even pace, there was encamped a body of the tribe of Bahrin, who intended to go to Káshghar and seek the protection of Mirzá Abá Bakr. “And I,” he added, “have fled, and am on my way to join the Kirghiz.” They then all sat down [and held a consultation]. Some suggested that the Khán should himself go and mix with that tribe: haply by that means he would obtain a little help from them. And Khwája Ali Bahádur, in particular, urged this plan (for he was himself of the tribe of Bahrin), and he was, moreover, a bold and daring man, and an unrivalled archer. When the Khán fled from Samarkand and entered the service of his noble uncle Sultán Mahmud Khán, Khwája Ali Bahádur was in Yatikand, in the service of one of the officers of Sultán Mahmud Khán. When the Khán arrived, he entered [his uncle's] service with the greatest eagerness. On the occasion of the Khán's flight, when he received the arrow-wound from Maksud Ali, the musician, Khwája Ali Bahádur, had displayed great valour in the contest, and had shown proofs of singular daring, which did not escape the notice of the Khán, who, from that day forward, bestowed on him his special protection and favour. In the battles that took place in Moghulistán, he usually distinguished himself by his heroic acts. But besides his bravery and prowess, he was also noted for his sagacity, intelligence, and perception; wherefore at that time most [of the Khán's] affairs were submitted to him for decision.
Now as he was strongly in favour of the proposed plan, [while all the rest objected to it], Khwája Ali represented that if the Khán went with a body of men, [the Bahrin] would be frightened, and think he had come to attack them. It was impossible to drive these ridiculous ideas out of their minds, which had become a prey to the whispering of devils; and it seemed that a new cause of dissension and violence would arise. [The Khwája] thought the wisest plan was that he, in preference to any of the other followers, should be selected to accompany the Khán. He suggested that they should remain where they were for five days, to see if they would approve of his going. If, thus, their minds could be pacified and their vain fears and foolish ideas be changed to good faith and confidence—well and good. “If not,” said he, “let us all go, as quickly as possible, and make common cause with [the Bahrin].”184a
This suggestion was approved, and the Khán and Khwája Ali set out together. They made a three days' journey, passing only one night on the road, and arrived at their destination at breakfast time.
When these dastardly men heard of their arrival, they came with unbounded impudence before him, not observing any of those marks of respect which are customary among the Moghuls. Then Khwája Ali addressing them said: “All adventurous persons who have obtained their desires, have watched for a favourable opportunity to seize with both hands the skirts of men of power.” While his words were yet unfinished, they cried out: “Down with this babbler of idle words! What use has a Khán for a hundred households? We have nothing to offer him!” So saying they drove the Khán back to his friends, and seized Khwája Ali; they took away the led horse of the Khán, which he was holding, and threw its bridle towards the Khán. On seizing Khwája Ali, they carried him off to their tents.
The Khán, in alarm for his life, fled back with all speed, fearing lest they might take him and deliver him into the hands of Abá Bakr. Being terrified at this idea, he hastened to rejoin his men, looking round him on all sides as he went [to see whether he was being pursued].
Once, when the Khán was relating this story, I asked him: “Did you not dread [the thought of] solitude and desolation?” He replied: “Not so very much, for I had once before been left alone in Moghulistán, and had spent some days in solitude, in the same way, but afterwards joined my people again.”
When he had gone a short way, he perceived something black in the distance; whereupon he withdrew to a secluded spot and, fastening his led horse there, stood waiting in ambush. He soon discovered that it was a man, and waited till he came near; then, placing an arrow [in readiness] in his bow, he leapt out of his ambush upon the new-comer, who had no time to get away, but threw himself in terror from his horse. The Khán then recognised that this man was the slave who had fled to the Kirghiz from his own party, who had been captured at Dulán, and had given information of [the presence of] those dastardly people [the Bahrin]. He, on his part, recognised the Khán, and kissed his stirrup.
The Khán asked him for news of his men, and where they were now encamped. The man replied: “When you went away with Khwája Ali Bahádur, a dispute arose among your men. It came about in this way. Somebody said: ‘Last night I happened to be near the Khán's tent, when I heard Khwája Ali Bahádur say to the Khán: Our people are in a very broken condition [and there is nothing to be done with them]; they have hardly anything left; but our opponents have cattle and property in abundance, because every one of [the Khán's] dependants is either a Mir or a Mirzáda, and wishes to have power and precedence over others, which they cannot possibly obtain. Moreover, we cannot attain any object or carry out any scheme by means of such people. It will be best for us, therefore, for the reasons I have given, to separate from these men and to go and join the other side. Let these people go wherever they choose, while we avail ourselves in every possible way of the services of our opponents. And with this plan the Khán will be greatly pleased. [I tell you] the Khán does not intend to return.’
“At these words the people became very despondent and grieved; and each one, forming whatever plan seemed best to himself, they split up into factions. One party under the leadership of Uchku Muhammad Mirzá, Sháh Mirák and Zikul Bahádur, set out for Turfán, the capital of Mansur Khán. Another division under Kará Kulák, took the road to Andiján, in the hope that the Kháns who had preceeded them had been well received by Sháhi Beg Khán. And a third division, under the direction of Khush Gildi Kukildásh and Aziz Birdi Aghá, resolved to go to the court of Mirzá Abá Bakr in Káshghar. Thus did they form themselves into different parties.”
The Khán used always to say: “When I learnt these facts, I was filled with amazement and alarm. Dismay took possession of my mind. I asked him how many days ago this had happened; he replied that on the particular day he had left them, the discussion had taken place, and they had separated.
“I then dismounted, and for a while remained buried in thought. At length I resolved to leave my horse in the impenetrable jungles of Nárin, and myself to lie in ambush for antelopes; and when I had killed them, to eat their flesh and to clothe myself with their skins; thus I would spend several years, until I should see how events might fall out.
“With this intention, having withdrawn my led horse to one side, I set out on my road.”
[It must be understood that] it is a custom among the Moghuls, for the bravest of their youth to spend a long time alone, either in the deserts, the mountains or the forests, at a distance of one or two months' journey from any of their fellow creatures, and to feed and clothe themselves with the flesh and skins of antelopes. Such persons they esteem as brave and manly; and it is, in fact, a very difficult and dangerous mode of life.
[The Khán] having resolved upon this strange and perilous adventure, gave the slave his liberty, and set out on his own design. He spent the night in what he considered a suitable spot, and on the morrow again started on his road. But first of all he surveyed the country, in accordance with the Moghul practice of circumspection and caution. For it is their custom, in the morning, to examine carefully the road by which they have just come, and also to reconnoitre that by which they intend to travel the same day; the travellers having ascended a piece of rising ground, and having carefully inspected both the roads, then give some fodder to their horses, which have been tethered all night. The purpose of this vigilance which they practise is, that if anybody should happen to be following them, and should have come on during the night, he would be seen, and could be guarded against. When the horses have grazed long enough, and no one is visible in either direction, the road is again taken at midday, and the journey continued till midnight, so that no one may discover the traveller or his nightly resting-place. Such is the cautious practice of the Moghuls.
The Khán, looking round carefully on all sides, after a short time descried something black on the road by which he had come the day before, and began to fear lest those tribesmen, regretting that they had let him go, were come in pursuit of him. But he presently saw that it was only one person, and that there was no one behind him, as far as he could see. Then, as was his practice, he placed himself in ambush. He noticed that this man was ever and again uttering cries, as if calling for somebody. And as he came nearer [the Khán] recognised his voice as that of Khwájá Ali Bahádur. He rushed out to meet him, and the Khwája, also recognising the Khán, dismounted, and they both began to weep as they met in affectionate embrace.
One can imagine the extent of the Khán's joy at this meeting. Having made an end of weeping, [the Khán] asked the Khwája where he had been and what had befallen him. The Khwája replied: “They carried me off and kept my horse, and placed me in the house of one of my acquaintances. After a while a decrepit and frail old woman, who claimed a blood relationship with me, came to me secretly and began to heap reproaches on my head, saying: ‘Some have been known to serve a Khán yet unborn, or an Amir still in his cradle, and to have reaped their reward; yet you, with your lack of zeal, have deserted a great Khán, who is worthy of a throne and a crown, and in your sluggishness have debased yourself. Rise up: if you have not a horse, I have left mine tied up in such and such a place: take it and go!’ Then my old enthusiasm, which seemed to have died within me, revived: I hastened out and went to the spot she had indicated, found the horse, and here I am.”
The Khán, having bestowed thanks and praises on him, said: “When I found myself alone, I resolved upon the following plan” (and the Khán proceeded to relate to him, from beginning to end, what has been told above). Khwája Ali Bahádur replied: “Peace on you! It was a most excellent resolve for a brave man like yourself, under existing circumstances. And it is all the better that it should have been so. But now it is possible to proceed with greater comfort and ease. However, even if we do spend a few years in this way, we must get news of the world whenever we can; for the wheel of the spheres does not always turn in the same groove, and we must be on the look out for any opportunity that may arise to again obtain the control of affairs. We must also be bold.”
The two then set out with strong hearts and cheerful spirits, riding bridle to bridle. On the following day they noticed in front of them some black objects: and the same care and precautions were observed as on the other occasion. As the objects approached, they recognised the two brothers of Khwája Ali Bahádur, Tika and Ali Mirák, and two of his sons-in-law, Asil Pulád and Buzana [each one accompanied by his servant].
After this meeting, the Khán's position was as sovereignty compared with that of the day before. The new-comers were then asked their story. They related what has been mentioned above, and added: “Khush Gildi and Aziz Birdi, who had determined to go to Káshghar, separated from us yesterday.” With these two came Sukár and some of the Káluchi (who were relatives of a certain woman of the name of Makhtum, with whom, during the time of the great disturbances in Moghulistán, the Khán had contracted a marriage), and they brought with them several horses from the royal stables.
Having announced this news, the whole party set out in pursuit without delay, and came upon the fugitives towards the end of the night; when these heard the sound of the hoofs of the approaching horses, they were filled with dismay and alarm. The Khán and his companions called out to each one by name, and they, recognising his voice and that of the others, were filled with joy. They came, running, to the stirrup of his Excellency the Khan and, kissing his feet, gave vent to expressions of thankfulness.
The Khán, being rejoined by Khwája Ali, was relieved of the distress of solitude, but now, on falling in with Tika and his party, he had become a veritable king, compared with his former position. When, under the guidance of these men, they had rejoined the party who had separated from them, the Khán was overjoyed at the prospect of a meeting with a slave, who was his wife. All were delighted at coming together again, and hoped that that night they would enjoy a refreshing sleep. The Khán, in the same hope, had already taken off his boots and coat, when Aziz Birdi Aghá came and persuaded him to put them on again. Although it was apparently a trouble to do so, it was at least a fitting precaution, so he consented, in order to quiet Aziz Birdi, and with one boot off [and one boot on] he slumbered peacefully on the breast of his wife. For he had taken no rest for several nights and days, and was exceedingly fatigued from rough travelling and watchful nights. The full enjoyment of sleep had not yet come to him, when he heard a war cry [suran] and the sound of giving and taking of blows. Before the Khán could jump out of bed, he saw by the light of the burning camp that the enemy were upon them, and were dealing out blows to right and left. He had just time to gird on his quiver, when Khwája Ali arrived. They rushed together, from the blazing camp into the darkness, and began to shower down arrows upon the enemy who were doing their work in the light, and in the same way, the men from the camp came out on all sides into the darkness, and began to discharge their arrows. The enemy, who were all mounted, then withdrew from the light, and the Khán's men, who were on foot, shot at them from different ambuscades. On account of the darkness it was not possible to judge of the great numbers of the one side or the small numbers of the other. Some of the men, in imitation of the Khán, were engaged in discharging arrows, while the rest had gone back to secure the horses.
As a fact, this hostile band was part of an army which Mirzá Abá Bakr had sent to Moghulistán, with orders to seize and treat, in the worst possible way, any one who might be found in the deserts of Moghulistán. The continual raids of these followers of Mirzá Abá Bakr caused great distress in Moghulistán, and threw the Moghuls and Kirghiz into disorder. [The assailants] who were a division of the force spoken of, had come on at the time of afternoon prayer, and when they had seen the Khán's party arrive and halt, they had crept into concealment till late in the night. They then seized all the horses, which had been turned out to graze, and when darkness was nearly over they made their night attack. There were no horses left in the camp188a except a few fat animals, which had been retained for purposes of war. These were saddled, and mounted by the men, and some of the women of the Khán's haram; while two or three other women were sent off by their husbands, who found horses for them. The Khán's horse was saddled and brought to him. When day dawned all were in the greatest straits. Moreover, except for the two or three women already mentioned, all the wives and children of our party had fallen into the enemy's hands, and there was no time to take leave or bid farewell. The scar of disappointment was marked upon their foreheads, and they never saw each other more. But those who fled, drove their wives and men and horses before them. The Khán and all those who had any courage and strength, followed after them. The cursed enemy came close on their heels, and pursued them with the greatest ardour, being, moreover, supplied with changes of horses.
Whenever the enemy approached, the Khán with a few men, turned round and plied them with arrows, and kept them at bay until his own party had got well on, when he again let loose the reins of flight till he overtook them. Thus did they fly fighting; and shot their arrows with their faces towards their friends and their backs to their enemies. This state of affairs continued till the hour of the “prayer of sleep.” The night attack took place in the desert plains [chulgái] of Utluk, which are called Ankghun Archa, and by the time of the “prayer of sleep” they had reached Kumala Káchur,189a which represents a distance of five days' journey at a medium pace. The feeble ones, both women and men, at the time of flight and distress, were concealed in the glens and forests, while the rest hid themselves wherever they thought most safe.
With the exception of the Khán's wife and two or three other women, and a few men who had remained, most of these people were captured; only a few escaped. When evening-prayer time came, fear of the enemy left them but little peace of mind. They were all scattered, every one hiding in the jungle of Kumala Káchur; and from the excess of their terror, some of those whose horses were tired out, left them and crept into the forest on foot.
When day dawned, they all came out onto an elevation, and still concealing themselves, looked carefully round. They could see no trace of the enemy. They waited patiently till midday, when wherever they happened to be, they called out, and by means of their cries were able to find one another; [they also found] those whom they had sent into the glens, and of whose fate they were till then ignorant, not knowing whether they had been captured or not.
Returning, they looked to see what had become of these people. They found that, excepting the Khán's wife [haram] and one or two other persons, all had been discovered and carried off captive. They remained where they were during that day, for they had not sufficient strength left to proceed. Moreover, they did not know whither they could go. They discussed the matter in all its aspects: every one made suggestions, and held his own views upon the matter; but all their plans were quite impracticable. One proposition was that they should live in the forests, and banish from their thoughts all desire for civilisation. This, however, was not considered to be feasible, as it was impossible to exist in the forests without the [necessary] weapons, etc. After seeking everywhere, they found that all their quivers were empty. At last they found one arrow in the Khán's quiver: in the rest there were none left but tir-i-gaz.190a [And with only one arrow there was certainly nothing to be achieved, so perforce this idea must be banished from their minds. Another proposal was that] they should enter the Dasht-i-Kipchák, which at that time was an asylum and refuge of the Moghul Kháns. But this again was impossible, on account of their want of arrows [and other weapons. A third suggestion was that they should go to Káshghar. But they came to the conclusion that] to go to Káshghar was as good as to walk, living, into a grave.
With Mansur Khán it was but yesterday that they had fought a battle, and all their sufferings and calamities were due to him. At length they decided upon going to Andiján; for it was possible that Sháhi Beg Khán had given Sultán Mahmud Khán a favourable reception.
The Khán repeatedly related these details to me, and he used to add: “Those who advised our going to the country of Sháhi Beg Khán, did so out of their ignorance of his true character. However strongly those who knew him protested, and pointed out the absurdity and danger of the scheme, which the others had made appear so plausible, they would not be dissuaded. I, for my part, showed my objections and disapproval in a hundred ways; for had I not been a whole year with Sháhi Beg Khán? I well knew and understood his temperament, the ways of his Sultáns, and the intentions of his Amirs. I knew very well that he would ill-treat us, which he did, but when I said this to these ignorant men, they replied: ‘Then what is to be done? All our proposals are considered impracticable or impossible! [But in going to Sháhi Beg Khán] there is some hope of safety. If anything else suggests itself to your enlightened mind, tell us of it: for in every matter we are willing to follow and obey you, mind and body.’ Much as I thought the matter over, I was unable to find a solution of the difficulty, or offer any other suggestion; and finally I, with my eyes open, and in spite of what I knew, became myself a promoter of that very plan for which I had so severely reproved my men. For, in truth, there was no choice left. Knowingly and deliberately I rushed upon calamity!
“On the morrow, having prepared myself for death and my heart for martyrdom, I set out to pay homage to Jáni Beg Sultán, which was the first step to entering the service of Sháhi Beg Khán. And there was no great difference between that stage191a and the bottom of the tomb.”
These events took place in the year 914,191b just two months after the murder of Sultán Mahmud Khán, and one month before Sultán Khalil Sultán was drowned in the ocean of mercy, all of which has been mentioned above. Sultán Khalil Sultán was the full brother of the Khán.
At this date Bábar Pádisháh was established on the throne of Kábul, and his power was nearly absolute.
Having reached this point in the Khán's story, it is necessary for the better understanding of the history, that I should now revert to the stories of my father and Bábar Pádisháh.
Ilácha is the Persian corruption of Alácha, and in the Persian texts of the Tárikh-i-Rashidi; it is found written in this way; but Alájá, Mr. Ross informs me, would be preferable to either. In Mr. Shaw's dictionary of the language of Eastern Turkistan (p. 12) the word Alách is shown as a proper name, but the author adds that it is also “a comprehensive name given to the tribes of Kuzzáks and Kirghiz, from some eponymous ancestor.” Can this ancestor be Sultan Ahmad Khan—a Moghul?
↩Should be Sultan Ahmad Khan.
↩Lit.: from the Shar' he derived no vexation.
↩One MS. reads Kus and others Kusan. Both names were used for the same place, as also Kos, Kucha, Kujar, etc., and all appear to stand for the modern Kuchar of the Turki-speaking inhabitants, and Kuchê of the Chinese. An earlier Chinese name, however, was Ku-sien.
The neighbourhood of Kuchar shows traces of very ancient civilisation; it must have been one of the chief seats of Buddhism in Eastern Turkistan, and it abounds still in remains of Buddhistic buildings, sculptures, cave dwellings, etc. It was in this district that Capt. H. Bower obtained, in 1888, the famous birchbark Sanscrit MS. described by Dr. Hoernle in J. A. S. B., vol. lx., pt. i., no. 3. The book was dug out of the foot of what appears to be an ancient “chorten,” of which several are to be found in the Kuchar district. Capt. Bower also notices that one of these “chortens” is to be seen on the north bank of the river at Kashghar. The one out of which the MS. was obtained, stood just outside the subterranean ruins of a city called Mangai, which are situated about 16 miles from Kuchar, on the banks of the Shah-yar river. “The town,” writes Capt. Bower, “must have been of considerable extent, but has been greatly reduced owing to the action of the river. On the cliffs on the left bank, high up in mid air, may be seen the remains of houses, still hanging on to the face of the cliffs… I was told that other similar towns may be seen in the district.” (See Proceedings R. A. S. B., Nov. 1890). The book was found by Dr. Hoernle to be written in the Gupta alphabet, and to date from the sixth century A.D.
↩Ráyat, in this sentence, appears to mean the natives of the soil, as distinguished from the foreign Moghuls.
↩Into which viláyat—i.e. country or province—is not mentioned, either here or where it occurs just above. In both instances it is probably Mávará-un-Nahr that is intended, though the word appears to be used, in this and other Persian books, to denote any foreign country—as is the case in modern Hindustani.
↩The modern Kara-shahr.
↩The date 912 is wrongly transcribed in all the texts. It should be 922, as is shown in the next chapter but one, where a chronogram for the event in question is given, which works out 922—obviously the correct date—1516.
↩Nowadays usually called Kumul—sometimes Kámil. The modern Chinese name is Hámi, as it was also at the time of the Mings, who were coeval with the events here related. More ancient names were I-gu and I-chou. Sir H. Yule mentions a Bishop of Kumul, about the middle of the thirteenth century, and believes the place to have been a Nestorian See. (Klaproth's Tableaux Historiques, map; Yule's Marco Polo, i., p. 213).
↩For some remarks on these wars, see Introduction, Sec. V.
↩This Arish in Moghulistan can hardly be traced for certain, though names such as Arys, Arystyn, etc., often occur on the detailed Russian maps of the region which represents Moghulistan. In all probability it was situated towards the eastern confines of the Moghul territory, and can scarcely be the same as the Arish mentioned in Part II. (p. 378) in connection with Ak-kum, as that place appears to have lain beyond the north-western limits of Moghulistan. (See note 4, p. 378.)
↩That is to say, the throne of Aksu and Turfan.
↩Tilávat—reading and meditating on the Korán. The Namáz means the five prescribed prayers or litanies of the day—the Arabic salát. Dávat literally means “supplication,” and is used for private, or spontaneous, prayer.—R.
↩The name would mean “the Háfiz of the fly of the dog.” A Háfiz is one who has committed to memory the whole of the Korán.
↩The remainder of this passage is unfit for translation. In Persian it stands as follows: “In Háfiz Magas láík ustádí níst chi dar ghráyat bí i'tidálí ast. Az jumla ánki úrá darín rúzhá ba máda gáví girifta-and. Shágirdiyi Khán úrá chi munásib báshad.” Khán guft: “Man azú Kalám-Ullah yád míkardam, mádagáv ú vaz'-i-badan yád nakhwáham girift.”
↩Paighula—side path or sheltered nook.—R.
↩See for this name note, p. 180.
↩Or Járun Ják—probably the same name that at page 125 was written Chárun Chálák.
↩That is, “chief of the tribe.” This title seems to have been a very old one among the Moghuls, though strangely enough the words ulus begi are both Turkish. At the time in question here—within the sixteenth century—it could have carried with it little more than a nominal office, though at an earlier period the Ulusbegi appears really to have been ruler of his tribe, and the title then was perhaps equivalent to “King.”
↩Previously written Tut-Luk.
↩June or July, 1511.
↩One MS. has “fled to Hissar,” but Andiján is obviously right. Dr. Bellew's MS. appears to have had Andiján.
↩May and June, 1514.
↩The name here rendered Mangit is subject to several different readings, such as Manfakit, Man'akit, etc.; but there can be little doubt that the author is pointing to the tribe of Mangit or Mangut. The word occurs again in connection with the same events lower down, though it is there spelled differently, (see p. 374). Still it would seem permissible, on historical grounds, to assume that the tribal name of Mangit is intended. There is little to be found on the subject of these people. Abul Gházi tells us, quite shortly, that they descended from Chingiz's grandfather Bartan Khan, while Rashid-ud-Din, according to Erdmann, includes them in his list of ‘Black Tatars,’ or tribes who were originally Mongols; but beyond these brief references to them, in the later Middle Ages, they do not appear to have attracted much attention. They are said to have been a people akin to the Nogai, and at about the period alluded to in the text (1522) were inhabitants of the Kipchák steppes. They are known also to have become adherents of Sháhi Beg Khan shortly before this date, and it seems quite possible that they may have had sufficient power to expel the Uzbeg Kazák from the Kipchák steppes, if these were their enemies. At a long subsequent date—in the eighteenth century—the descendants of these Mangit rose in influence, till their chiefs became a ruling dynasty in Bokhara. (See Abul Gházi, p. 76; Erdmann's Temudschin, pp. 168 and 219; and S. L. Poole's Muham. Dynast, p. 277.)
↩Balur or Bolor included Hunza, Nagar, Gilgit, Yasin, Chitral, &c., as will be seen further on, note, p. 385.
↩It may be noted here, that the only name for the province of Ladak ever used by Mirza Haidar is Tibet. In this he is at one with all the Turki-speaking inhabitants of Central Asia, down to the present day. The word Ladak, or more properly La-tags, is a purely local one. The inconvenient circumstance, however, is that throughout the Tarikh-i-Rashidi the name of Tibet is applied not only to Ladak, but to the whole of the provinces under the rule of the priestly government of Lassa—that is, to the region generally known in Europe as Tibet. In reading the Tarikh-i-Rashidi, therefore, it is necessary to discriminate between Ladak and Tibet proper, on every occasion that the word occurs. In the present instance the author is speaking of Ladak only. The province of Baltistan (called always by our author Balti), which is situated to the north of Kashmir and west of Ladak, is known as Little Tibet in all the neighbouring regions, and to most Oriental writers; while Ladak is sometimes termed Great Tibet by way of distinction. The Jesuit missionary Desideri, in the MS. narrative of his travels during the early part of the last century (in possession of the Hakluyt Society) nearly always refers to Baltistan as “the first Tibet,” to Ladak as “the second Tibet,” and to Tibet proper, or Lassa territory, as “the third Tibet.” The word Tibet, it may be added, though seldom or never used by the natives of any of the Tibetan provinces, is of purely Tibetan origin, as explained by Mr. W. W. Rock-hill in the Journ. Rl. As. Socy. for Jan. 1891, p. 5. It has come to Europe, however, through Central Asia.
↩The winter of 1532-3.
↩The author is referring to “malignant persons” in his own camp—i.e. to one Ali Taghái and others of the Moghuls, as will be seen in Chap. cii. of the Second Part.
↩Ursang can be no other than Lassa, under a corruption of the Chinese names of the two chief or central provinces of Tibet—viz., Wu and Tsang. These two names are nearly always coupled, and used together to denote Tibet proper as a whole, so that Mirza Haidar, hearing them paired in this way—Wu-Tsang— applied them to the capital city instead of to the country. Nothing is more common among Asiatics than to give the name of the country to its chief town, or to employ the name of the capital for the country at large. In this case, Mirza Haidar is only using what may be termed the official Chinese designation for the country, at the time he wrote, for during the Ming period, as well as during that of the Mongols (which preceded it), Wu-Tsang or Wu-sz'-tsang was the name for Tibet which had been adopted in the official histories and geographies. Later, the name became changed into Si-Tsang, or Western Tsang, and Tibet is known to the Chinese of the present day by this combination. The two outer provinces of Lassa-governed Tibet are Kám, lying to the east of Wu, and Ngari to the north-west of Tsang. All the country to the north of Wu-Tsang and Ngari is usually known as Cháng-tán, or the Northern Plain—an elevated desolate region with which the Lassa government seems scarcely to concern itself.
When Mirza Haidar speaks of Ursang, as the “Kibla”—the cynosure, the point of adoration—of the Chinese and Tibetans, he could not have indicated Lassa more distinctly, although further on, in the Second Part, he gives some additional particulars concerning Ursang, which could apply to no other place than Lassa. His spelling of the name has arisen from the difficulty, which every Persian or Turki speaking Asiatic finds, in pronouncing the combination ts—a difficulty just as formidable as the pronunciation of the st. The insertion of the letter r, too, in foreign names, is not an uncommon practice with Persian writers, as Amur for Amu, Manchur for Manchu, etc. (Comp. Bretschneider, ii., pp. 23-4, 221, etc.)
↩The word here is damgir—lit. breath-seizing or choking; but the malady the writer points to is that of shortness of breath, and other distressing symptoms, produced by the rarefied air at great altitudes. (See note, p. 413).
↩The year 939 ended 23 July, 1533.
↩The author cites one “Bait” of the Khan's Persian verses, which, however, is omitted in the translation.
↩El 'Ud, the Arabic name, whence our word Lute. Either the Sih-tára, a three-stringed instrument, or the Chártára, one of four strings (the tetracord), may be the original of the European guitar or cithar; but it is not clear from which name the word guitar has descended. Either one could be the parent. Badger's dictionary gives the word kitárah for guitar, but it is possible that the Arabs adopted the guitar (as they are known to have adopted the lute) from Persia, and with the instrument, probably, the name. The Ghachak, according to the dictionaries, should be a kind of violin—or, at any rate, a stringed instrument.
↩That is, 1546 A.D., when the author was composing his history.
↩Fátiha—the “opener” or “beginner,” i.e. the opening chapter of the Korán. —R.
↩Here follows a tradition concerning Muhammad and his son-in-law Abul As, which, having no bearing on our history, is omitted in the translation. The story is taken, says Mirza Haidar, from the work of Shaikh Sáid Kázaruni, entitled Siyar-unnabi—“The Virtues of the Prophet.” (See Rieu's Catalogue Brit. Mus. ii., p. 621 a.)
↩It appears, at first sight, that the author is here alluding to the Khan, Abdur Rashid; but my impression is that Muhammadi Barlás is meant. In spite of the bitterness of feeling which Mirza Haidar evinces against Abdur Rashid, he is careful not to abuse him; but with the Barlás it is otherwise, and seeing that a little lower down we are told that the Khan was led and ruled by Muhammadi Barlás, who is called by various abusive names, it seems likely that he is the person here referred to as an “execrable devil.”
↩This must have been written about the time when, according to Abul Fazl (the historian of Akbar), Mirza Haidar was giving so much attention to music that he neglected the affairs of the Kashmir State, of which he was regent. (See Erskine, Hist., ii. p. 368, and Sec. i. of the Introduction to this volume.)
↩Some remarks on these interesting points will be found in the Introduction, Sec. iv.
↩This is a somewhat embarrassing statement. It would seem, at first sight, that the author means to class the Kirghiz and Moghuls as one people, or race; but the word Kaum in the text, meaning “tribe” or “nation,” is not, I think, used in a racial sense. The sentence runs, Agarchi Kirghiz ham Kaumi az Moghul ast …, and my impression is that the author means the connection between the two people to be regarded as a political, rather than a racial one: that is, that the Kirghiz were understood to belong to the Moghul kingdom, or were one of the tribes subject to the Moghul Khans, while the Uzbegs had no connection with the Moghuls. The word Kaum is often used in a very broad sense in Persian. It is unfortunate that neither of the Turki MSS. used for this translation contains this part of the history.
↩February, 1547.
↩The correct title of this work is Jámi 'uttavárikh. It is a general history of the world from the earliest times to A.H. 700, and gives a special account of the Moghuls. (See Dr. Rieu's Catalogue, i., p. 74.)
↩A general history from the earliest times to A.H. 730, by Hamid Ullah Mus-taufi, Kazvini. (Rieu, i., p. 80.)
↩A history of Timur.
↩The proper title is Matla'i Sa'adain va Majmu-i-Bahrain, by 'Abdur Razzák bin Ishák us Samarkandi—(“Manzum” here, may mean “well arranged.”) (Rieu, i., p. 181 b.)
↩A history of Chingiz Khan, his ancestors and descendants, down to the time of Timur. (Rieu, i., p. 164.)
↩This mention of Kara-Khitai is curious, and the geographical indication accords with what we know, from other sources, to have been the centre of the Kara-Khitai dominion about the beginning of the thirteenth century, when the power of that dynasty was at its best. What Mirza Haidar means to explain, in this passage, probably is that Moghulistan stands on the ground which the Kara-Khitai country occupied before the time of Chingiz, when all previous sub-divisions were swept away. In other words, he seems to have found it more convenient to go back to ancient times for a single name to denote the region, than to explain its whereabouts geographically, or to describe its limits according to the ever-shifting divisions of the period subsequent to Chingiz's conquests. But there is no reason to suppose him to mean that Moghulistan was, at his time, known as Kara-Khitai, or that it was a land inhabited by a race of that name. The Kara-Khitai must have disappeared, as a nation, some two centuries before Mirza Haidar's day. Indeed, they could hardly at any time have been regarded as a nation in the western parts of Central Asia, but only as a ruling dynasty, supported by a fighting force, composed of their own and other foreign races, sufficient to subdue certain weaker nations, and to rule them for a time, until some stronger power should arise and displace them. In this way they resembled most other Asiatic dynasties that have appeared in history, and their period of power was perhaps even shorter than most others, for it lasted for less than a century.
In race the Kara-Khitai (or Kara-Kitan) appear to have been Manchu, though perhaps a good deal mixed with Mongol tribes, for their home was in southern Manchuria—the Liao-tung of modern times—and bordered on south-eastern Mongolia. To the Chinese they were known as Kitan or Liao. In the tenth century, they conquered the small section of northern China which was then known to western nations as Khitai or Cathay, where they set up the dynasty called by the Chinese “the Liao.” As a Chinese dynasty, their kings ruled for about two centuries, and it was only just before their overthrow, in the early part of the twelfth century, that they first appear in Central Asia as a conquering horde. At this time a certain Liao prince, one Yelui Taishi, escaped westward from “Cathay,” gathered an army (composed of what races is not clear), and overran, firstly Eastern and Western Turkistan, and subsequently Khwarizm. In these regions, and at about this period, he and his people seem to have acquired the name of Kara-Khitai, or “Black Cathayans,” while the Chinese spoke of them as Si Liao or Western Liao. In a short time, the whole country between Hami (or Kumul) in the east, and the Aral in the west, became subject to them, while their capital seems, as far as can be ascertained, to have been situated near the banks of the river Chu—in the heart of the Moghulistan of our author's time. The identity, as well as the position, of the Kara-Khitai capital has been made a subject of much discussion, for it is mentioned by several different names in the records of different nations. Thus the Chinese knew it by the name of Hu-sze-wa-erh-du, Gu-sze-o-lu-du, etc., the Turki writers by that of Balasakun, while the Mongols (as is stated in the Tarikh-i-Jahán-Kushai) converted Balasakun into Ghar-bálik. No doubt the Chinese forms “wa-erh-du,” “o-lu-du,” etc., stand for the Turki word “Urdu”—city or capital; while “bálik” in Mongol means the same thing. Dr. Bretschneider is therefore probably right in identifying the “Gu” (it should be Ghar) of the Chinese and Mongols with the Balasakun, which, according to all probability, stood in the valley of the Upper Chu, and in deeming it the site of the Kara-Khitai capital. It was, at any rate, in and about the region of the Chu valley, that they seem to have flourished most, during their short period of power; and it was in this region, after being partially subjected by the Naiman, that Chingiz Khan finally broke them up.
As regards the name of Kara-Khitai, it appears to me that these people were regarded by the Turki-speaking nations of the west as northern Chinese, or Cathayans, though differing from them to some extent. The word “Kara,” though meaning “black,” is constantly used in Central Asia to denote a difference, a variety, and especially a lower variety. It is difficult to find an English equivalent; but the Urdu word “Kacha” (raw), as used in India, would perhaps more nearly translate “Kara” than any English term. In this way “Kara” is sometimes applied, at the present day, in Mongolia and Turkistan, to Chinese from certain parts of China, though they may be Chinese of the lightest complexion; also to some tribes of Kirghiz who differ, in colour, in no way from other Kirghiz, and so on. In naming wild animals too, the word is made use of in this manner—to denote a variety. Thus the Kara-Khitai were, to the western foreigner, not the real, the true-bred (the “pakká”) Khatai, but a variety, or offshoot, of them, and therefore denominated by an adjective.
(See Bretschneider, i., pp. 208, seqq.; Howorth, ii., pp. 16-20.)
↩That is in 905 H. = 1499-1500 A.D.
↩See, for these names, the Genealogical Table of the house of Timur attached to this volume.
↩Compare the genealogical table of Uzbeg Khans in Stokvis, i., p. 158.
↩Otherwise known as Abul Gházi Hussain, or Sultan Hussain Baikará. He was great-grandson of Timur's son, Umar Shaikh. (S. L. Poole, p. 268; or Stokvis, i., p. 156.)
↩Of the line of Ak-Koinlu, or White Sheep Turkomans. (See S. L. Poole, pp. 254-5; or Stokvis, i., p. 119.)
↩Son of Karai Khan, son of Barák, etc., of the White Horde. (Comp. Howorth, ii., p. 685; and Stokvis, i., pp. 158 and 163.)
↩Christ is always connected with healing in the Muhammadan mind.—R.
↩In Stokvis' table of the line of Juji, the son of Shahi Beg is shown as ‘Yár Muhammad.’ I do not know the authority for this name. (Manuel d'Hist., p. 158.)
↩A.H. 948 (1541 A.D.) will then be the date of compiling Part ii. of the Tárikh-i-Rashidi—or the Epitome.
↩The word in the original is Dastmál-shui, meaning, literally, “towel-washer.”
↩The Turki MS. only has Kásim Khan's name here; but it is probably correct. (See Erskine, Hist., i., p. 192.)
↩About June—1503.
↩The end of autumn.
↩Only one text gives the name of Mir Vali. He was also brother of Báki Chaghaniáni, so often mentioned by Baber. He played a considerable part, but eventually fell into the hands of Shahi Beg, who beheaded him at Samarkand in 1504. (Erskine, Hist., i., pp. 95 and 212.)
↩The country of the Jagirák must have been in the mountains which bound the upper part of the Alai valley on the north, and separate it from the lower country of Farghána. Seeing that the tribe is said to have been exterminated about the beginning of the sixteenth century, it is scarcely surprising that no trace of them, or of the name of their country, should remain. Baber mentions the tribe, calls it a very numerous one, and says that they inhabited “the mountains that lie between Farghána and Káshghar.” Secure in these mountains, they refused to pay tribute, and accumulated great numbers of sheep, horses, and yaks. Baber describes how, in A.H. 900, he sent a force to plunder them, taking 20,000 sheep and 1500 horses, which he divided among the soldiers of his army, then in a state of destitution. (Memoirs, p. 35.)
↩That is, the Uzbegs should lay waste Tambal's territories.
↩See note 2, p. 165. From the position of Jagirák and from what follows, it would appear that Turuk Shárán was in one of the valleys of the north slope of the Alai mountains. It could not have been far to the south and east of Kand-Badám .
↩A promise to give quarter scems to be implied.
↩The ancient town of Amuya or Amol stood some three or four miles from the left bank of the Oxus, on the road from Merv to Bokhara. According to the Arab geographers followed by Sprenger, the distance from Merv was calculated at 36 farsakhs, and from Bokhara at 19 f. by one authority and 22 f. by another. The ferry crossed to Ferebr (Farab) on the right bank, a name still extant on modern maps, near Charjui, which latter place, indeed, represents the ancient Amuya. The name of the river—Amu—is said by some of the Arab writers to have been derived from that of the town, but possibly this statement should be reversed. The Chinese travellers of the Mongol period called the river, Amu and An-bu. In the Turki MSS. used for this translation, by Mr. Ross, Amur is written where Amuya stands in the Persian. The addition of the letter r is not, however, unfrequent in Turki renderings of foreign names, as remarked in note 3, p. 136 above, on Ursang. (See Sprenger, pp. 16 and 17, and map I. Bretschneider ii., p. 62.)
↩Isbijab, or Asbijab, is a name frequently employed by the carly Arabian geographers. It has been thought by some modern writers to be the old name for Chimkend, but here is a distinct statement that Sairám is its modern representative. The present Sairám lies only some seven or eight miles distant from Chimkend; but Sir H. Yule gives reasons for believing that the town of that name mentioned by authors in the fifteenth century, stood some distance farther east. He notices that Hulagu, on his march to Persia in the thirteenth century, reached Sairám the second day after passing Talas—i.e. Táráz; also that Rashid-ud-Din speaks of an ancient city of vast size called Kari-Sairam, near Talas. Sir H. Yule does not mention the date to which Rashid-ud-Din refers, and the book he quotes is, I regret, not accessible to me. If, however, the city was ancient in Rashid-ud-Din's time (end of thirteenth century), it is just possible that the modern Sairam may have been in existence at the time of Mirza Haidar's history. The distance between the modern Sairam and Aulia-Ata (which, as we have seen, was about on the site of Táráz) is as nearly as possible 110 miles, or about five ordinary marches in that country. Thus, if the older Sairam lay two marches westward of Táráz, the distance between it and the modern town would not be great. (See Yule's Cathay, p. cc. Kostenko's Turkistan, ii., p. 23).
↩The main facts regarding Yunus' exile in Persia have been noticed at pp. 74 and 84-5; while some remarks concerning the Khanship of Isán Bugha II. will be found in the Introduction, Sec. ii.
↩The “Memoirs” of Baber. It is interesting to notice that about ten years after Baber's death, his Memoirs were in the hands of Mirza Haidar. Baber died in 937 A.H. (26 Dec. 1530), and Mirza Haidar was in India from about 943 to 947. It was probably at this time, therefore, that he acquired a copy of his cousin's Memoirs. The pity is that he says nothing to enlighten us regarding the gaps, or lost chapters, in the Memoirs.
↩Baber, in his Memoirs, describes his father's death. After mentioning that Akhsi, where Omar Shaikh lived, “is situated on a steep precipice, on the very edge of which some of its buildings are raised,” he continues, according to Erskine's translation (p. 7): “Omar Shaikh Mirza was precipitated from the top of the steep, with his pigeons and pigeon-house, and took his flight to the other world.” In Pavet de Courteille's translation from the Turki, the passage stands: “Se changea en faucon” (i. p. 11). The allusion to a “falcon” in this connection, I cannot explain.
↩In the very detailed table of the descendants of Timur, given by Prof. Bloch-mann, in Vol. I. of the Ain-i-Akbari, the name of Sultan Ali does not appear among the sons of Sultan Mahmud Mirza. Only three sons are entered there— viz., Baisanghar Mirza, Masud Mirza, and Khan Mirza; but we know that the last of these had also another name—that of Sultan Vais Mirza, which does not appear in Prof. Blochmann's table. It is possible, therefore, that Ali may have been a second name of one of the two other brothers, but as this is merely a conjecture, I have added the name of Ali to the abbreviated table of Timuri attached to this volume. (See note, p. 203).
↩The texts differ here. The Turki MS. has Kálghán Chághátai in the place of Báki Chaghániáni. The latter name, however, is certainly correct, as is evident from a reference to Baber's memoirs (pp. 128, seqq.), where these transactions are set forth. Báki of Chaghánián was a younger brother of Khusrau Shah, and is described by Baber as “a man of much weight.” The country of Chag-hánián , it may be remarked, was situated on the middle and upper courses of the Surkhan and Káfirnahán rivers. The name is now obsolete.
↩Usually written Zulnun. For an account of his life and lineage, see Erskine's History, i., pp. 262 seqq.
↩It is to be regretted that the author does not carry out his intention in this matter. In many places he forgets himself, and calls other Khans “the Khan,” thereby causing some confusion. To make matters clear, I have usually had to insert the full name on these occasions.
↩These two Uzbeg chiefs had formerly been in Baber's service, but had deserted him to join his enemy Sháhi Beg. Afterwards, at the battle of the Iron Gate (916 A.H.=1510 A.D.—after Sháhi Beg's death) they fell into Baber's hands and were put to death. (Erskine, Hist., i., pp. 145, 309 and 315).
↩This name has occurred several times already (see pp. 87 and note, 130, etc.), but has been subject, in the texts, to many different readings, such as Batikand, Banikand, Yanikand, etc., etc. Here, at last, we have in the Persian translation of it, which the author himself gives as Haft-Deh, a distinct guide to Yatikand, the Turki (as Haft Deh is the Persian) equivalent for “seven villages,” or “seven towns.” But though he has thus fixed the name for his readers, he still leaves them in the dark as to the situation of Yatikand. In the passage under note, he appears to regard it as lying within Moghulistan—and probably at some distance within it—for Sairam (either old or new, see note, p. 171) must have been near the frontier, and he mentions Uzun Ahmad (a place I cannot trace though, see below) as situated on the road between the two. As the party had come from Samarkand—i.e. from the south-west—they were journeying probably towards no point south of Sairam. We have, therefore, to look for Yatikand, according to the indication in this passage, somewhere to the east or north-east of Sairam. But at p. 87 the author says Yatikand was on the confines, or in the territory, or even suburbs, of Andiján (az náhiyat i Andiján); and he appears always to mean the town or district of Andiján alone, when he uses that name, and not the province to which the town belonged. The latter he always speaks of as Farghána. Thus, according to this indication, Yatikand would have to be sought to the south or south-east of Sairam. In modern times the province of Farghána came to be called Andiján, and the only solution of the discrepancy which I can suggest is that perhaps Mirza Haidar, in one instance, has also used Andiján to denote the entire province. For this reason I have made the translation of “az náhiyat” read “on the confines”—a reading which, at any rate, points to a position within Moghulistan. If this suggestion be accepted, Yatikand, or Haft-Deh, would have stood probably in the south-western extremity of Moghulistan, and on the northern slopes of the range which forms the limit of the valley of the Sir; or possibly near the more westerly of the head streams of the Talas river, and thus not very far distant from Taráz. When (on p. 131) the author speaks of the Khan passing on from Yatikand to Moghulistan to visit his brother Khalil, it should be remembered that Khalil was at that time chief of the Kirghiz only, and that the Kirghiz tribe did not occupy the whole of Moghulistan. In all probability, therefore, that passage may read: “went farther on into Moghulistan.”
It is somewhat strange that we should have no better cue for fixing the position of Yatikand, for it was evidently, about the period in question, a place of some importance. It may be worth while to remark that its identification has been somewhat embarrassed by the application, on Arrowsmith's map of 1878, of the word Itikent to a district of Kuráma, in the angle formed by the Sir near Khojand. I do not know on what authority the name, so located, rests. The district in question is practically that of the modern Kuráma itself—between the river and the hills, and almost exactly opposite Khojand. In this locality, however, the Yatikand of our history cannot be sought: it is, in the first place, a quarter which lay altogether outside of Moghulistan, while secondly, no traveller making for it from Samar-kand could have taken Sairam on his road. Itikent, as placed by Arrowsmith, must have belonged either to the province of Shásh (i.e. Tashkand) or to Farghána; and was in one of the most thickly-populated and highly-cultivated parts of Central Asia, while this could not have been the case with Yatikand, as is evident from the narrative. As regards Uzun Ahmad, Kostenko in his itineraries, mentions a stream of that name in the mountains between the Bish-Tásh pass and Katmán-tipa, more than 100 miles in a direct line to the south-east of Aulia-Ata (Táráz), and consequently too far in the same direction to suit the narrative, or to point in any way towards Sairam, old or new. (See Turkistan, ii., pp. 58-9.)
Kara Tugai is very possibly to be identified with the Kara Sengir Tugai of the accompanying map—one of the numerous “Tugai” on the Sir.
↩This place stood on a southern tributary of the river Ili. The name, though usually written Almaty, is still in use for the modern Russian fort and town of Vierny, which was built in 1854, on the banks of a small river, called by the Kirghiz Almatu. The name is derived, Mr. Schuyler says, from the abundance of apples (in Turki, alma) which grow in the neighbourhood. (Bretschneider, ii., p. 33; Schuyler, ii., p. 145.)
↩The texts here are very confused, and the meaning of the whole paragraph (beginning with the words: “Now as he was strongly …”) is in some degree uncertain. Some passages of it are not contained in the Turki MS.—R.
↩The Turki text has, in place of “in the camp”—“among the Khan's suite.” —R.
↩The spelling of these names is very uncertain; but in whatever form, I can find no trace of them, even on Severtsoff's detailed map of Zungaria, &c. They were probably mere local names of uninhabited and unimportant spots; though it is possible that “Ankghun Archa” may have some connection with the “On Archa marked on modern maps, seeing that this place stands on a river (a right tributary of the upper Narin—just east of the Son Kul) called the Ottuk— of which perhaps Utluk may be a mis-rendering. The author, however, gives no indication of the quarter of Moghulistan where these adventures took place.
↩Probably arrows of one gaz in length.
↩Instead of the words “that stage,” the Turki MS. has:—“the service of Jani Beg Sultán.”—R.
↩1508-9 A.D.
↩