Tārīḫ-i Rashīdī - The History of the Moghuls, Tārīkh-i-Rashīdī

FLIGHT OF MY FATHER MUHAMMAD HUSAIN KURKÁN FROM BEFORE SHÁHI BEG KHÁN INTO KHORÁSÁN; WITH SOME INCIDENTAL BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES.

IT has been related above, how Kunduz submitted without resistance, on the advent of the victorious army of Mahmud Sultán; also how I, after being confined in prison by Khusrau Sháh for a year, obtained my release, went and joined my father, and together with all the members of my family, proceeded to Shahr-i-Sabz, which Sháhi Beg Khán had given to my father [together with its dependencies].

In the beginning of Sagittarius, Sháhi Beg Khán marched on Khwárizm.

All the heads of the Moghuls, whether Sultáns or Amirs, together with their train, were dwelling among the Uzbegs, and fear and apprehension continually occupied their hearts.

In the meanwhile, Mahmud Sultán, who had always been a defender of the Moghuls, died in Kunduz, whereat all the Moghuls, and especially my father, were much afflicted and saddened. For Mahmud Sultán had borne him such love, and had bestowed so much kindness on him, that if ever one of Sháhi Beg Khán's nobles wrote a letter of cruelty or violence upon the tablet of the imagination concerning my father, he would draw a line through it with the pen of his protection; or else would erase this writing from the tablet of the rancorous heart of the evil-minded man, with the penknife of punishment. In fact, he recognised it as his duty to side with my father in all things. His death was a source of great uneasiness to the Moghuls in general, and to my father in particular. But Sháhi Beg Khán said privately to Amir Ján Vafá, who was an intimate friend of my father, that he would on no account whatever leave Khwárizm until he had reduced it, and it was clear that the siege^192a would be a very protracted one:—“There are, at the present moment, about 30,000 Moghuls among our Uzbegs. So long as any of the Moghul chiefs remain, these men will continue to serve them, and never enter our service. If a favourable occasion presents itself, they will do to us that which we did to them. The first among them is Muhammad Husain Kurkán; I think of him all day, but feel that to kill him would be like killing one of the Kháns—an act that would obliterate all the kindnesses I have ever shown the Kháns. Hence, it will be best for you to announce to him my intention, so that he may rise up with all speed and escape while he has yet a foot [to walk upon], and no longer tempt his fate. For after his departure, I must make all the other Moghul Amirs feel the blood-drinking scimitar.”

Amir Ján Vafá immediately sent a messenger, who reached my father at the hour of midday prayer, and by the time of afternoon prayer my father, having chosen me from among his children to accompany him, together with sixteen of his servants, fled towards Khorásán. This event remains fixed in my mind like a dream or a fantasy.

In those days Sultán Said Khán was also in Samarkand. Three days after [our flight] he fled to Moghulistán; but this story has been told above.

Of those children whom my father left behind him in Shahr-i-Sabz, the eldest was Habiba Sultán Khánish; Sháhi Beg Khán kept her in his haram at Táshkand, where he also kept Aisha Sultán Khánim, the daughter of Sultán Mahmud Khán, and who is nowadays better known as Moghul Khánim. After a while he married her, with various ceremonies, to Abdullah Khán, son of Mahmud Sultán.

[2.] Next in age was Ganhar Shah Begum, whom Amir Ján Vafá obtained, in marriage, for his own son Amir Yár, in return for having carried the message to my father.

[3.] I come next. I accompanied my father.

[4.] Another was Muhammad Sháh, whom one of my father's relations had taken after my father into Khorásán.

[5.] The youngest of all was Abdulláh Mirza, who has been mentioned above, as having accompanied his mother, Sultánim Begum. I shall tell his life in these pages.

In short, we left Shahr-i-Sabz, and, passing one night on the road, reached, at the close of [the second] day, the banks of the River Amuya; the cold was very severe and we only succeeded in crossing with great difficulty; without entering Balkh, we went on to Khorásán.

Those were the last days of the life and reign of Mirzá Sultán Husain, who was a grandson of Mirzá Jahángir,^193a son of Amir Timur. None of his ancestors, as far back as Amir Timur, had attained to sovereignty. Mirzá Sultán Husain, however, had, after many years of struggles and hardships, won Khorásán at the point of the sword, and during forty-eight years, while firmly established on the throne of Herat, he governed the four quarters of Khorásán. He encouraged all the arts and crafts of the world to such a degree that in every separate profession he produced an unsurpassed master.

Having reached this point, I meditated and felt that I ought to write something concerning these lords of revelation and masters of manifestation, who lived at this time. And though I did not, with my lack of capacity, seem fit for the task, yet strange to say, I could not see my way to omit recording one or two circumstances in relation to these men. In any case I will make a beginning, in the hope that, with the aid of existing memoirs [tazkira], which shall supplement the deficiencies of my humble reed, it may prove worthy of the perusal of the clear-sighted.

As it does not lie in my power to write a separate book in memory of these men, I have in this Epitome only devoted a few lines to some of them, in order to satisfy my mind and to calm my inner man. [Quatrain]…^194a

He was far the greatest and most excellent and learned of all the saints and spiritual guides of the time of Mirzá Sultán Husain.

He is much too great to stand in need of any mention from my humble pen; so I will simply trace his discipleship. He was a disciple of Mauláná Sad-ud-Din Káshghari, disciple of Mauláná Nizam-ud-Din Khámushi, disciple of Khwájá Alá-ud-Din Attár, disciple of His Holiness the Kibla of the Pious, Khwájá Bahá 'ul Hakk va ud-Din, generally known as Khwájá Nakshband.

He belonged to one of the most noble families in the country of Káshghar, and his race had produced Ulamás, and many pious and devout men and saints. Among whom was Shaikh Habib, the disciple of Shaikh Sayyid Kárdgar, disciple of Shaikh Mohibb Mujarrad.^194b

Amir Sayyid Ahmad, my great-great-grandfather, placed his son Mir Sayyid Ali in the service of Shaikh Habib, when he was very young.

I have heard from a certain distinguished person that [even] before Mauláná Nizám-ud-Din became a disciple of Khwájá Alá-ud-Din he was an exceedingly pious and chaste man. He used to sit in the mosque of the Lawyers, and was an admirer of the spirituality of the Shaikh.

He performed many miracles, as is related in the Nafahát ul 'uns.

My father arrived in Khorásán at the time when its pomp and splendour and learning were at their highest, and the fame of Herat and its people was spread over the world.

At that time the sons of Mirzá Sultán Husain, who had revolted against their illustrious father, had repented and had been allowed to kiss his feet, and they now surrounded the Mirzá's throne with honour and respect.

When my father arrived in Herat, the people came out to receive him, and attended his passage with honour. They then conducted him to a magnificent residence—worthy of his rank—which they had made ready for him.

[When my father went to pay his respects to Mirzá Sultán Husain], Mir Muhammad Baranduk Barlás, who had been one of the Amirs of Sháh Rukh and who, at that time, in respect of age, rank, understanding, intelligence, and knowledge of the laws and customs, had not his equal among the whole of the Chaghatái Ulus, came and spoke to my father about kneeling at the audience. My father agreed to his proposals. The Mirzá also showed my father great honour, and placed him above all his children, even above his son Bádi-uz-Zamán, who was the eldest and most respected of the Mirzá's sons. In this city, which might have been compared to Paradise, my father commanded the utmost respect and distinction, and enjoyed every possible luxury.

The Mirzá, for his personal satisfaction, had determined on an alliance between one of his granddaughters and my father. The latter did not approve of this connection, because the Mirzá was very old and afflicted with paralysis and gout, and the power of his children would not be such that, when they succeeded their father, they would be able to cope with Sháhi Beg Khán. Nevertheless, as it had been arranged, he contracted the marriage.

In the meanwhile, Sháh Begum, as has been mentioned above, went from Moghulistán to Samarkand with a petition for Sháhi Beg Khán. The latter was intent on the conquest of Khwárizm, which was a dependency of Mirzá Sultán Husain. It was on Sháhi Beg Khán's warning that my father had fled to Khorásán, and Sultán Said Khán had taken refuge in Moghulistán. Most of the Moghul chiefs had gone to the kingdom of the next world, while some had been thrown into confinement. Sháh Begum was banished and sent to Khorásán. The rest of the Moghuls accompanied the expedition into Khwárizm.

In enumerating the names of the children of Yunus Khán, I mentioned that the eldest was Mihr Nigár Khánim, who married Sultán Ahmad Mirzá, king of Samarkand. When Sháhi Beg Khán seized and put to death Sultán Ali Mirzá and subdued Samarkand, he married Mihr Nigár Khánim. When he besieged Bábar Pádisháh in that city, for the last time, and compelled him to capitulate, he demanded Khánzáda Begum. Bábar Pádisháh gave up Khánzáda Begum in exchange for his own life, and escaped, as has been mentioned. Now as Mihr Nigár Khánim was maternal aunt to Khánzáda Begum, and as it was unlawful for both to be wedded to the same man, he divorced Mihr Nigár Khánim, and married Khánzáda Begum. The Khánim had dwelt in Samarkand. When Sháh Begum was sent to Khorásán, the Khánim accompanied her mother-in-law. My father had a maternal aunt, who had remained in Shahr-i-Sabz, whither many of her connections had fled: she, having taken my brother Muhammad Sháh with her, came with the Begum and the Khánim to Khorásán.

Before the arrival of this party, my father resolved to make the Pilgrimage of the Hijáz, but when they joined him he gave up this intention, thinking that they would be in danger if left alone in a strange land. He then decided to remove them to Kábul, where Bábar Pádisháh was, as has been related. Sháh Begum was the stepmother of the Emperor's mother; Mihr Nigár Khánim was his maternal aunt.

In short, having, with this intention, obtained leave to depart from Mirzá Sultán Husain, they set out for Kábul. A few days before they reached Kábul the mother of Bábar Pádisháh, Kutluk Nigár Khánim, died, and her death was a great misfortune to all. In spite of his mourning, Bábar Pádisháh came out to receive them, and gave the party a warm welcome, accompanied by every honour that he was able to show them. Here they spent some time in the greatest ease and comfort.

Soon after this, came news of the death of Mirzá Sultán Husain. In the natural order of things, and in conformity with recognised custom and practice, Mirzá Bádi-uz-Zamán should have succeeded his father on the throne. But Khadija Begum, one of the late Sultán's wives, who was at the head of a factious party, succeeded in getting Muzaffar Husain Mirzá, who was her own son, to share the government with Mirzá Bádi-uz-Zamán. This she did, in spite of the objections of the wise men of the time [who were at last compelled to consent to the unstable arrangement] which was in consequence carried out.

In the meantime, Jahángir Mirzá, who was in Ghazni, being discontented with the narrow limits of his territories, marched for Khorásán. [At the same time] he sent a petition to the Emperor, saying: “Sultán Husain Mirzá has lately departed this life. It has occurred to me that, at this crisis, I should go and offer my help and alliance to his sons. Probably I may be able to help them in some way.” When this petition reached Bábar Pádisháh, he at once set out, with the intention that if he fell in with Jahángir Mirzá on the road, he would turn him back, or if not, would pursue his brother into Khorásán. [In either case] he would not be long in ascertaining what schemes Mirzá Jahángir had in his mind. As soon as the Emperor had resolved on this plan, he came to my father's house, and asked him to undertake the management of Kábul and its dependencies. My father would not accept the invitation, but said, in excuse: “When in Khorásán, I resolved to undertake the Pilgrimage; if I were to bind myself to the measure you propose, my resolution would be to no purpose. Let this business be entrusted to one of your great Amirs, and I will render him assistance to the utmost extent of my ability.” The Emperor then sent for Nizám-ud-Din Ali Khalifa Mauláná Bábá Bishághari, Amir Ahmad Kásim Kuhbur,^197a and one or two other of his [trustworthy] chiefs, and after complimenting [my father], said to him: “I am about to start for Khorásán, having the most perfect reliance on you. These Amirs will conduct the different affairs of the State under your general supervision.” Having thus spoken, and after further compliments, he set out for Khorásán.

AFTER the Emperor's departure for Khorásán, up till the middle of the winter, all was order and quiet in Kábul. He, however, stayed away a long while, and various reports began to circulate; the main roads were also blocked by the Hazára highwaymen.

In the list, given above, of the children of Yunus Khán, it was stated that he had five daughters and two sons.

By his wife, Isán Daulat Begum, he had three daughters: [1.] Mihr Nigár Khánim, who has been already mentioned as being at this time in Kábul; having accompanied Sháh Begum from Samarkand. [2.] Kutluk Nigár Khánim, the mother of the Emperor, who died just before the arrival of Sháh Begum, the Khánim and my father, in Kábul. [3.] My mother, who died during the interval of peace [amáni] in Táshkand, which has been mentioned.

By Sháh Begum he had four children: [1] Sultán Mahmud Khán; [2] Sultán Ahmad Khán; [3] Sultán Nigár Khánim, who was the wife of Mirzá Sultán Mahmud (son of Mirzá Sultán Abu Said) and the mother of Mirzá Khán; and [4] Daulat Sultán Khánim, who was wife of Timur Sultán, son of Sháhi Beg Khán. All of these have been mentioned before. From this it will be seen that Sháh Begum was step-grandmother^198a to both the Emperor and myself; and [actual] grandmother to Mirzá Khán. After the defeat of the Kháns, when the Emperor went to the hill country of Hisár, he was there joined by Mirzá Khán, who accompanied him wherever he went. And the Emperor looked upon him as his own son; for, as has been explained, Mirzá Khán's father and mother were of the same family as the Emperor's father and mother.

On account of straitened circumstances [Mirzá Khán] did not accompany the Emperor on that expedition, but stayed behind in the service of his grandmother Sháh Begum. As various reports came in concerning the Emperor and the Mirzás of Khorásán, the motherly love of Sháh Begum began to burn in her heart, and she persuaded herself that the Emperor had fallen into the hands of the Mirzás of Khorásán. Also, on account of the enmity that existed between Sultán Husain Mirzá and Abu Said Mirzá, and the bloodshed which had resulted therefrom, [she thought] that the Emperor would never escape from their power. Moreover, reports which seemed to confirm this view were constantly arriving; and it was considered time to put Mirzá Khán upon the throne in the Emperor's place.

When this plan was suggested to my father, he would not hear of it. An altercation followed which led to much sorrow; and the distress of Sháh Begum gave offence to the Kháns. All this brought much trouble upon my father, who at last, being exasperated, said: “As you will not be warned by me, I will no longer be your adviser.” Nevertheless, the Emperor's Amirs, who used to come daily out of the castle to wait on my father, continued to come, as was their wont. After one month's bickering and quarrelling, Sháh Begum had quite resolved to set Mirzá Khán up in the Emperor's place.^198b My father [then] said privately to the Amirs, that it was not necessary for them to come to him any more. When the Amirs re-entered the castle, my father went away to a place called Áb-Báran, which is a day's march from Kábul, and withdrew himself from public affairs. Sháh Begum and some Moghuls [then] read the Khutba in the name of Mirzá Khán, and did their utmost to seize the fort of Kábul; whereupon numerous fights ensued. Sháh Begum sent a letter of entreaty to my father to return, and as entreaties and remonstrances were unlimited, my father could not choose but come. During twenty-four days they laid siege to the castle of Kábul; and in the course of these operations the Emperor himself arrived.^199a

WHEN Bábar Pádisháh went in pursuit of Jahángir, he came upon him in the mountains of Hazára. After holding a consultation, it was determined that the wisest plan would be to proceed into Khorásán, as with some aid, the sons of Sultán Husain Mirzá might be enabled to withstand Sháhi Beg Khán. So with this object in view, they turned towards Khorásán, and, on their arrival, these two brothers were warmly welcomed by the people of Khorásán, while the two Mirzás, for their part, were overjoyed at their advent. But there existed no accord between these two Mirzás. In the first place, Bábar Pádisháh knew that they were not at one; he also knew that without unity they could effect nothing. Moreover, Jahángir Mirzá, from having indulged too freely in wine drinking, was suffering so severely from dysentery, [from a disease called] mui, and a burning fever, that it was generally reported that Khadija Begum (after her old fashion) had put poison in his wine. For these and other reasons, he took his leave and returned to Kábul.

On reaching the Hazára mountains, he learnt that Mirzá Khán and Muhammad Husain Mirzá were besieging Kábul. Leaving the heavy baggage with Mirzá Jahángir (who, being sick, was travelling in a litter) he advanced with all possible speed towards the passes of Hindu Kush, accompanied by a small body of men. [The passes] were covered with snow. They, however, crossed them with much difficulty, and advanced, by forced marches, upon Kábul. At dawn one day they made a rapid descent upon the town. Those who were outside the fort of Kábul, and had been attacking those within, crept into concealment on every side, while those who were within, rushed out and carried off, as plunder, all that fell in their way, both within and without [the walls]. The Emperor, in conformity with his affectionate nature, without ceremony, and without a sign of bitterness—nay, with the utmost cheerfulness and good-humour—came into the presence of his step-grandmother, who had withdrawn her affection from him, and set up her grandson as king in his stead. Sháh Begum was confounded and abashed [at his generous behaviour] and knew not what to say.

The Emperor, going down on his knees, embraced her with great affection, and said: “What right has one child to be vexed because the motherly bounty descends upon another? The mother's authority over her children is in all respects absolute.” He added: “I have not slept all night, and have made a long journey.” So saying, he laid his head on Sháh Begum's breast and tried to sleep; he acted thus in order to reassure the Begum. He had scarcely fallen asleep, when his maternal aunt, Mihr Nigár Khánim, entered. The Emperor leapt up and embraced his beloved aunt with every manifestation of affection. The Khánim said to him: “Your children, wives and household are longing to see you. I give thanks that I have been permitted to behold you once again. Rise up and go to your family in the castle. I too am going thither.”

So he went to the castle, and on his arrival all the Amirs and people began to thank God for His mercy. They made the dust of the feet of that loving king, powder [kohl] for their eyes. Then the Khánim conducted Mirzá Khán and my father before the Emperor. As they approached, the Emperor came out to receive them. The Khánim then said: “Oh, soul of your mother! I have also brought my guilty grandson and your unfortunate brother to you. What have you to say to them?” and she pointed to my father. When the Emperor saw my father, he instantly came forward, with his wonted courtesy, and smiling, openly embraced him, made many kind inquiries and showed him marked affection. He then embraced Mirzá Khán in like manner, and displayed a hundred proofs of love and good feeling. He conducted the whole ceremony with the utmost gentleness of manner, bearing himself, in all his actions and words, in such a way that not a trace of constraint or artifice was to be seen in them. But however much the Emperor might try to wear away the rust of shame with the polish of mildness and humanity, he was unable to wipe out the dimness of ignominy which had covered the mirror of their hopes.

My father and Mirzá Khán obtained permission to go to Kandahár. The Emperor, by entreaty and unremitting attentions, detained Sháh Begum and the Khánim. When they reached Kandahár, Mirza Khán remained there, while my father proceeded in the direction of Faráh and Sistán, with the intention of carrying out that holy resolve which he had made while in Khorásán. On his arrival in the territory of Faráh, he heard of the conquest of Khorásán, by Sháhi Beg Khán, and the overthrow of the Chaghatái. The high roads and passes were in a dangerous state, being obstructed and even closed. Thus my father was prevented from executing his purpose. This happened in the year 912.^201a

IT has been already related that the Emperor, in the year 909, conquered Kábul from Mukim, son of Zunnun Arghun. [On this expedition] he was accompanied by nearly 20,000 men of the army of Khusrau Sháh. Now as Kábul was unable to support so great a host, the Emperor resolved to invade Hindustán. But on that expedition, from ignorance of the roads, they frequently came to places where provisions were scarce, and most of their cattle perished. Although there was not a single battle in that campaign, yet the army suffered a severe reverse. On their return to Kábul, many of Khusrau Sháh's men deserted him. At this crisis Sháh Begum and my father arrived in Kábul, and the Emperor proceeded to Khorásán (as has been related above).

After we went to Kandahár, in consequence of all that had passed, the people were reduced to the most afflicting want and distress. In addition to this, Jahángir Mirzá, who was at that time the stay and support of the Emperor's government, died. After the occurrence of these events, he [the Emperor] wished to strengthen his power by whatever means were available, in order that he might be firmly and securely established in Kábul. To this end, he sent an envoy to Sháh Beg in Kandahár. Sháh Beg was the son of Zunnun Arghun, who was one of the greatest Amirs of Mirzá Sultán Husain, under whom he had, during thirty years, conducted the affairs of Kandahár and Zamindáwar. Although he was a brave and intelligent man, yet by denying himself everything, he amassed great wealth. He had gone in person to Khorásán to assist the Mirzás. When Sháhi Beg Khán attacked Herat, he alone went out to oppose the advance of the Uzbeg army, and in the engagement which ensued, he was slain. He was succeeded, in Kandahár, by his son Sháh Beg. [As has been stated] the Emperor sent an envoy to Sháh Beg, saying: “Since the children of Mirzá Sultán Husain have been extirpated, it is fitting that the gates of obedience and service should be opened, and at this time there is no one in the palace of our sovereignty, who is more worthy than yourself of occupying the highest post.” But in spite of all the Emperor's assurances and promises, Sháh Beg refused; for he had higher views of dignity than that of entering into a state of dependence. To be brief, this refusal led to an outbreak of hostilities. The Emperor marched to Kandahár, in the neighbourhood of which town a battle was fought, and that a very bloody one. Finally victory declared for the Emperor; the dust of flight filled the eyes of Sháh Beg's men, and they were thrown into such confusion that they were unable to enter the fort of Kandahár. Thus, without baggage, they crept on towards Sui,^202a and his good fortune was changed to desolation. So much treasure fell into the Emperor's hands, that [the gold and jewels] and Sháhrukhi^202b were divided among the army by the shieldful.

Mirzá Khán, who had stayed in Kandahár, now joined the Emperor, who returned to Kábul laden with much spoil and treasure, having left Sultán Násir Mirzá, younger brother of Jahángir Mirzá, in charge of Kandahár.

On his return to Kábul [important] news came from Badakhshán. When the country of Khusrau Sháh^203a was annexed by the Uzbeg, some of the people of Badakhshán refused to submit, and on several occasions put the Uzbeg army to flight, wherefore every commander of 1000 men [mir hazári] attained the rank of Sardar, and placed the heads of the Uzbeg on their pikes.^203b Their leader was Zobir Rághi.^203c

Sháh Begum laid claim to Badakhshán, saying: “It has been our hereditary kingdom for 3000 years.^203d Though I, being a woman, cannot myself attain to the sovereignty, yet my grandson Mirzá Khán can hold it. Males descended from me and my children will certainly not be rejected.” The Emperor assented, and Sháh Begum and Mirzá Khán departed for Badakhshán.^203e My brother Muhammad Sháh, who was in the service of the Begum, accompanied them. As they approached Badakhshán, Mirza Khán was sent forward to announce to Zobir Rághi the arrival of the Begum, and to explain her intentions.

No sooner had Mirzá Khán left them, than the army of Abá Bakr marching from Káshghar came upon them. All the men and the Begum, and all who were of the party, were seized and carried off [to Káshghar]. An account of Abá Bakr^203f will shortly follow.

Mirzá Khán [hearing of this event] hastened to Zobir Rághi. At first Zobir treated him with respect and honour, but afterwards paid so little attention to him, that he allowed only one or two servants to wait on him. When things had gone on a short time in this way, Yusuf Ali Kukildásh Divána, one of Mirzá Khán's old retainers, conspired with eighteen other persons, and one night fell on Zobir, slew him, and set Mirzá Khán upon the throne. From that date, 913, till the end of his life, Mirzá Khán reigned over Badakhshán.

After the conquest of Kandahár, Bábar remained in Kábul. Those Moghuls of Khusrau Sháh's army who had stayed behind, to the number of about 3000, now raised Abdur Razzák^204a to the throne, and declared against the Emperor, who had only 500 men left with him. However, with these 500 men, he met them in a pitched battle. This was one of the Emperor's greatest battles. After much giving and taking of blows and countless hand-to-hand fights, the Emperor broke and routed the foe. In that action he personally, and alone, engaged five different champions of the enemy: Ali Sayyid Gur, Ali Sinár, and three others, and with brave strokes and sword cuts, put them all to flight.

In this same battle, Abdur Razzák Mirzá fell into the Emperor's hands, but was treated with generosity and set at liberty.

After these events, the affairs of the Emperor began to march favourably in Kábul, where he remained until the year 916 [1510], when Sháhi Beg Khán was slain, as will be mentioned below.

EXPEDITION OF SHÁHI BEG KHÁN INTO KHWÁRIZM. HIS CONQUEST OF THAT COUNTRY. HIS RETURN TO MÁVARÁ-UN-NAHR, AND HIS MARCH INTO KHORÁSÁN.

WHEN Sháhi Beg Khán had disposed of the Moghuls, Sultán Said Khán fled to Moghulistán, and my father to Khorásán. Some [of the Moghuls] were put to death and others imprisoned. Sháh Begum was sent into Khorásán, while the rest of the Moghuls, [Sháhi Beg] carried with him into Khwárizm. He besieged [Khwárizm] for eleven months. Chin Sufi was then acting as governor for Mirzá Sultán Husain. During all that time no one came in answer to his appeal for help; and he fought some marvellous battles, which even now are celebrated among the Uzbeg. At length, in consequence of the dearth of provisions, most of his men died of hunger, and resistance became no longer possible; then Sháhi Beg Khán took the citadel, put Chin Sufi to death, and returned to Samarkand.

As, before the conquest of Khwárizm, he had laid siege to Balkh for six months, and had left that enterprise only half completed (as has been related above), he now went and conquered Balkh, and then returned to Samarkand, where he passed the winter. In the spring he set out against Khorásán. Mirzá Sultán Husain had died the year before, and his sons, in their indolence and indifference, could not come to any mutual agreement. When the news arrived of Sháhi Beg Khán's approach, everything was thrown into dire confusion and disorder. Every one had some suggestion to offer, but no conclusion could be arrived at, [and while they were still engaged in these arguments] news came that Sháhi Beg Khán had reached Herat. Mirzá Zunnun led out an army [to oppose him], but [saw] that it was too late to dam the torrent with earth, or to smother the blazing fire with dust, and he was himself slain at the first onset of the Uzbeg, who forthwith entered and plundered Herat. The Mirzás all fled in different directions, and the greater part of the army did not even know how Herat had been taken. Thus easily fell that important city with its vast population.

Mir Muhammad Sálih, one of the Amirs of Sultán Abu Said, whose name is to be found in the “Lives of the Poets” [tazkira] discovered the date of this event, namely, 912, in the words Fath-i-Khorásán —“Conquest of Khorásán.”

THE REASON WHY MY FATHER, MUHAMMAD HUSAIN KURKÁN, SUR-RENDERED HIMSELF TO SHÁHI BEG KHÁN. MARTYRDOM OF MY NOBLE UNCLE, SULTÁN MAHMUD KHÁN, AND OF MY FATHER.

MY father and Mirzá Khán left Kábul and went to Kandahár, whence the former proceeded, with the intention of making the Holy Pilgrimage, while Mirzá Khán remained at Kandahár. [My father] had resolved to go to Sistán, and taking the road by Neh and Bandán, to reach Kirmán; since if he travelled by way of Khorásán, he would be hindered by the importunities of the Mirzás.^205a On nearing Faráh he was met by a body of fugitives, in the most pitiable state imaginable, who told him that Sháhi Beg Khán had seized Khorásán in the manner above related.^205b

When they reached Faráh they found that the roads on every side were unsafe, and there was nothing left for my father but to remain where he was. Thus he stayed three months in Faráh. On Sháhi Beg Khán hearing of his whereabouts, he sent him a most courteous invitation [which he accepted], and, accompanied by the magnates of Faráh, he went to visit Sháhi Beg Khán, who was then encamped at Uláng Káhdastan,^206a in great magnificence; but the limits of this Epitome prevent me from giving full particulars. No one would ever have imagined that change and destruction were coming over his affairs within a few years; it is wonderful how, in a short space of time, all went to ruin, in a way that will be briefly described.

In short, he received my father with every mark of attention and honour, and showered down innumerable presents upon him.

After this [Sháhi Beg Khán] went against Kandahár, where Sultán Násir Mirzá^206b was [ruling], as has been mentioned above. He laid siege to the town for forty days, and then, having made peace, he returned, carrying away much booty. During the same year there were battles between the sons of Mirzá Sultán Husain and Sháhi Beg Khán's Sultáns at Mashhad, Nishápur, Astarábád, and Turshiz. In all these encounters the Uzbeg were victorious, and the Chaghatái defeated. A great number of the Chaghatái were slain, and those who escaped became so scattered that they were never again united.

At this time, Ubaid Ullah Khan,^206c who was Sultán (and many victories were in his name), was going to Bokhárá, which was his hereditary seat of government. He begged my father to allow me to accompany him. The reason for this was that Habiba Sultán Khánish (who has been mentioned, in the detailed list of my father's children, given above) had been married by Sháhi Beg Khán to Ubaid Ullah Sultán, after [my father's] flight from Shahr-i-Sabz. So, with my father's permission, I was taken to my sister in Bokhárá.

In the winter of the same year, Sháhi Beg Khán went to attack the Kazák in Mávará-un-Nahr, that is to say, the Dasht-i-Kipchák.^207a Sháhi Beg Khán [first] took my father to Bokhárá, but when he went to attack the Kazák, he left him in Samarkand. He returned in the spring, and then set out for Khorásán, entrusting my father to the care of Timur Sultán, his son, to whom he had given Samarkand. So my father spent that spring in Samarkand, while I was living with my sister in Bokhárá.

At this time news came that Sultán Mahmud Khán had left Moghulistán and was advancing on Andiján, with complaints and demands. Sháhi Beg Khán sent to beg my father to come into Khorásán. My father accepted the invitation and went. He felt his end was drawing near, and on the tablet of his fate he recognised the hue of martyrdom. His hope of safety being more slender than a spider's web, he devoted all his attention and energy to providing for my safety, so that should his precious soul be drowned in the whirlpool of martyrdom, I at least, on the shores of safety, should be protected from risks and dangers.

On his first visit to Herat, my father had sought out a pious and talented man to be my teacher, whose name was Háfiz Miram. He was, indeed, a pious and ascetic man [fakir], possessed of numerous talents. He could recite the Korán [with special attention to the] modulations of the voice, and wrote the Naskh Táalik hand and others beautifully. My father was much pleased with him; and during [his stay in Herat] this man was his constant companion, whether in the time of contentment and pleasure, or in the days of trial and sorrow. He instructed me in the Korán and in calligraphy.

When the time came for starting for Khorásán, my father showed me, in private, much kindness, and did his utmost to console and comfort me, saying: “Your uncle Sultán Mahmud Khán has arrived [from Moghulistán] in spite of my having warned him both by word and in writing. I said to him, ‘After the conquests of Amir Timur, and the devastation [takhrib] of Moghulistán, your forefathers, though dispersed, remained in that country, and were awaiting their opportunity. Contenting themselves with scanty clothing and simple food, they took care of their people and their army. Thus passed 150 years, until the sun of your noble nature rose in Moghulistán, which is an eastern clime and the quarter where rise the lights of the Khákáns. At the middle season of your youth, in the manner of your noble ancestors, you restored the fallen Moghulistán to its former glory, and together with Yunus Khán, you seized that opportunity, which had been long sought by your forefathers, and brought under your control those states which they so earnestly coveted. Thus you spent nineteen years in complete success. It is now clearer than the day, that the power of your victorious forces cannot be compared with the numbers of Sháhi Beg Khán's army. Hence it is your obvious duty to remain in Moghulistán, both for your own personal safety and for the welfare of your people. For though you may there be exposed to many hardships, that is better than extinction. It is, moreover, quite evident to me that should you ever fall into the hands of Sháhi Beg Khán, he will subject you to the most painful of tortures, and will deem your death his own life: on no account whatever will he spare you.’

“Thus did I use all the arguments in my power to dissuade the Khán, but as often as my remonstrances reached him, certain base advisers, in their short-sighted ignorance, represented to him that ‘Muhammad Husain Mirzá does not wish you to go, because lately Sháhi Beg Khán has shown him great favour, and he knows that your going would put an end to this.’ To absurd representations of this kind they would add: ‘It is our firm conviction that if [Sháhi Beg Khán has treated Muhammad Husain Mirzá well, in return for his services, he will treat a hundred, nay, a thousand, times better, you who have done so much more for him’].^208a After the expression of all these impossible and absurd ideas, the following answer was sent back: ‘Oh! Dásh’ (that is, oh! Friend, for these two had become ‘friends’ according to the Moghul custom, in their youth, and called each other by this name up to the end of their days): ‘how strange it is that you should be leading such a happy life in Khorásán and Samarkand, in spite of your knowledge of the pitiable state of affairs in Moghulistán! How can you allow me to be exposed to so much suffering?’ But taking my words and advice as mixed with evil intentions, he failed to recognise their truth, and came. This instance is not the same as the former one.^208b Certainly Sháhi Beg Khán will fill the cup of the Khán's hopes with the fatal wine of martyrdom, and whatever dregs remain he will cause me to drink. I now commit you to the care of God. Though your company would be dearer to me than my own life, I fear Sháhi Beg Khán would not allow it, and I prefer the idea of your life being prolonged, even though it involve the bitterness of separation; you must therefore bear my absence patiently. Patience is bitter, but it has a sweet fruit. Remember that when the father dies, the children are his heirs. You also have become an heir. If the bird of my life escape from the net of Sháhi Beg Khán's intentions against me, we shall have the joy of meeting again.

“Now as your teacher, Háfiz Miram, is a devout man, and is not on friendly terms with any of our people, if anything happens to me, he will, with the advice of my partisans, be able to look to your interests. Moreover, his family is also in Khorásán. It is just a year since he left them to follow me; therefore he is going along with me.

“I entrust you to the care of Mauláná Muhammad. Be careful to pay attention to all he may say to you, for he is my vicar [khalifa].^209a His father was my instructor and guide. From the day of his birth up to the present time, he has been my confidant and companion. I trust that he will always be your support in times of trouble, and that he will protect you through thick and thin.”

Having thus threaded many pearls of good counsel upon the string of wisdom, and hung them on the attentive ear of my understanding, my father departed to go and wait on Sháhi Beg Khán, who was at that time besieging Kalát.^209b To all outward appearance he received my father with friendship, and then allowed him to proceed to Herat. When he reached Herat, a person was sent after him [to put him to death]. Sultán Mahmud Khán and his children were killed on the river of Khojand.^209c My father was buried in the mausoleum of Amir Sayyid Husaini, while Sultán Mahmud was placed in the mausoleum of Shaikh Muslih-ud-Din, Khojandi.

This happened in the year 914. For the Khán, the chronogram Lab-i-daryá-i-Khojand [the banks of the river of Khojand] was discovered. [Here follow some blessings upon the martyrs …]

AFTER Sháhi Beg Khán had put my father to death, he despatched an emissary to Bokhárá with instructions to throw me into the river, and thus send me to join those who had been drowned in the river of Khojand. Although the order was an obnoxious one to Ubaid Sultán, who received it (for he was married to my sister), still it was impossible for him to refuse.

But how excellent a thing it is that the Almighty has power to check the violent and, if He so wills it, to restrain the hand of the cruel: so that, without His consent, the tyrant cannot touch a single hair of any man's head. And this is confirmed by the events of this disturbed time.^210a For, in his glory, vanity and magnificence, see how many royal families Sháhi Beg Khán destroyed, and the number of princely houses he annihilated! For example, Sultán Husaini^210b and his followers, to the number of nearly 200,000 persons; Sultán Mahmud and the Mirzás with nearly 50,000 men—these all suffered at the hands of Sháhi Beg Khán. Again the royal houses of Samarkand and of Mirzá Sultán Ahmad: to what extremities were they not all driven by this tyrant? In a short space of time, he scattered to the winds of annihilation many governors and officials, so that the dust of their existence formed towers on the plains of non-existence, which reached up to the heavens, and from the mists of their sighs a frightful whirlwind arose in the deserts.

This king, who could commit such atrocities and practise such violence, was resolved on my death, at a time when I had only just passed the half of my childhood, and did not know my right hand from my left, nor good from evil; nor had I the ability to use my strength—nay, I had not enough intelligence to execute my own wishes. I had become an orphan, without father or mother, my paternal uncles were scattered and my maternal uncles slain. I had not [even] an elder brother who could share in my grief; no friend or relation to comfort me.

That year, 914,^210c proved one of disaster for the Sultáns of the day in general, and of massacre for the Moghul Khákáns in particular. When God willed that all my uncles, aunts, and cousins should be carried off in different directions and murdered, I was the weakest and youngest of the family. The strangest part of it all is that they were, everyone, at a great distance [from Sháhi Beg Khán], as has been mentioned above, but being helpless, nay, having no alternative, they came and threw themselves into calamity and were murdered; while I escaped, though in the town of Bokhárá, in the middle of the ocean of Sháhi Beg Khán's dominions. Since the decree of the will of the Almighty had not been issued for my destruction, but for my preservation, Sháhi Beg Khán, with all his boasting and power, was not able to touch one hair of the head of that helpless little child whom he wished to kill. (Thanks be to God, the Lord of Heaven and Earth, the Possessor of Might, Majesty, and Power.)

The details [of my escape] are briefly as follows: at the above date, my father went to Khorásán and was put to death by Sháhi Beg Khán, who also sent an emissary to Bokhárá to kill me. And although this was an act that would have been distasteful to Ubaid Ullah Khán, it was quite impossible for him to disobey the orders of Sháhi Beg Khán. He handed me over to the emissary, with instructions to throw me into the river Amu, that I might join those others who had been drowned in the ocean of divine mercy. He was engaged in investigating some of the property which my father had left [in Bokhárá], alleging that the Mirzá had said to him: “Bring my property along with my son.” This occasioned a delay of a few days. During this interval Mauláná Muhammad, who was my master and my father's Khalifa, went to see Hazrat Mauláná Muhammad Kázi, who asked him: “When are you starting for Khorásán?” Maulána Muhammad replied: “We have decided to depart in a few days.” Hazrat Mauláná then said: “Come back in a little while, I have something I wish to say to you.” After a time, when the assembly of faithful men had dispersed, Mauláná Muhammad came in again, and Hazrat Mauláná asked him: “How could I consent to Muhammad Husain Mirzá going to Khorásán, and now to the Mirzá's son going there too?” Mauláná Muhammad replied: “Verily, we are taking him, fully trusting in God's protection.” Then, said Hazrat Mauláná: “The Holy Prophet, when his life was threatened by the infidels of Mekka, did not put his trust in standing still and being captured, but took to flight. Therefore, what you should now do is, trusting in God, to take the Mirzá and flee; and if danger or cause of fear presents itself, I am your security. You ought certainly to set out without delay.”

Mauláná Muhammad used to say: “I never had any such thought in my mind, but those words of Hazrat Mauláná had a wonderful effect on me, and the determination to go and seize you and carry you away, took so strong a hold of me that as soon as I had left him, I turned my whole attention to our flight.”

Having reached this point in my narrative, I think fit to give some details of the life of Hazrat Mauláná, who has been mentioned above, in connection with my illness.

HIS name was Muhammad bin Burhán-ud-Din. His father was one of the intimate friends of Kázi Imád-ud-Din Maskin, Samar-kandi, and for this reason Hazrat Mauláná was known as Mauláná Muhammad Kázi. After he had acquired a certain proficiency in the sciences, he devoted himself to the study of theology—walking in the way of God—and to this end he repaired to Khorásán. On leaving Samarkand, he went to pay his respects to that much beloved and respected example of piety, Khwája Násir-ud-Din Ubaidullah, who lived there. He asked Hazrat Mauláná where he was going. The latter replied that he was going to Khorásán. Again he asked: “Are you going for the sake of study, or for some other object?” A certain student, who was in the company of Hazrat Mauláná, said: “His greatest desire is to become a darvish.” His Holiness [the Khwája] telling them to wait a little, went into his garden, and after a prolonged absence returned, bringing two letters for Hazrat Mauláná: one was a letter of recommendation to Khwája Kilán, the son of Mauláná Sád-ud-Din Káshghari; the other contained an account of the rules and practices of devotees, which he had written, and which he now gave to Hazrat Mauláná.

[Here follows an epitome or summary of the contents of the “Tract,” which contained commendations to the study of divine truths, through following Muhammad, and warnings against associating with dancing and singing (or howling) darvishes, and against listening to heretical doctrines.]

In the Salsalat ul Arifin, one of Hazrat Mauláná's works, it is written: “It was most strange that in spite of the Khwája's admonition, my desire to visit Khorásán was in no way lessened; I at length obtained Khwája Nasir-ud-Din's sanction to depart, and set out for Khorásán. But as, on the road, incidents occurred which prevented me from proceeding further, I returned and entered the Khwája's service.” The writer remained some time with him, and managed his private kitchen; and so great was his devotion that he used himself to come, on foot, and lay the meals before Hazrat Ishán. He, by degrees, won his entire confidence, and Hazrat Ishán used to address Hazrat Mauláná in the presence of all his most distinguished guests.^213a

In all matters, the most perfect intimacy and trust existed between them—so much so, that Mauláná Muhammad became an object of jealousy to the other companions of Hazrat Ishán and his children. And as this gave rise to much unpleasantness, Hazrat Mauláná set out for Khorásán in company with Mauláná Muhammad Amin, who was also a disciple of Hazrat Ishán…

And there they spent six months in the enjoyment of the society of Mauláná Abdur Rahman Támi. Hazrat Mauláná then entered the service of Hazrat Ishán in Táshkand, who encouraged him and honoured him with the respectful style of “Ishán.” …

It was the fashion, at that time, for every Sultán to have one of Hazrat Mauláná's disciples for a spiritual guide. Thus Sultán Abu Said Mirzá entertained Mauláná Kásim; Sultán Ahmad Mirzá, Mauláná Khwája Ali; and all the Sultáns observed this practice. Sultán Mahmud Khán was guided by Hazrat Mauláná. I have heard this last say: “I was once praising Sultán Mahmud Khán to Hazrat Ishán, when he remarked that Sultán Mahmud Khán was indeed a very capable young man, but he had one fault, which was a hinderance to his advancement. A pupil, with such an instructor, ought to do all that his instructor told him, and not rely on his own judgment; but, like a hawk, he should pounce down upon whatever prey he is sent against, whether or no he has strength sufficient, and should not hesitate and doubt, as the Khán did. It was this that prevented him rising to that elevation which his people had expected of him.”

In a word, after the death of Hazrat Ishán, Hazrat Mauláná went to Táshkand, where he was welcomed with honour and devotion, and where he remained until the destruction of Táshkand, when he migrated to Bokhárá. At that time Mahmud Sultán, brother of Sháhi Beg Khán, and father of Ubaid Ullah Khán, was ruler of Bokhárá, as representative of Sháhi Beg Khán. He cultivated the society of Hazrat Mauláná and was his disciple for one winter, which greatly pleased Hazrat Mauláná, who for this reason stayed on in Bokhárá from that date to the year 916, when my father went to Khorásán^213c and was martyred. It has been mentioned in my own story, and will be related again, how kind Hazrat Mauláná was to me.

When the Kizilbásh^214a overran the land (as will be described), Hazrat Mauláná left Bokhárá and went to Andiján and Akhsi, where he resolved to stay.^214b There, many people became Nakhsh-bandi under his guidance, thus attaining high rank, and are, to this day, a blessing in the land, where they propagate the doctrines of their sect. An account of these men will be given below, in connection with the biographical notice of Hazrat Makhdumi. Wherever in this history Hazrat Mauláná, absolutely, is mentioned, Hazrat Mauláná Muhammad Kázi is indicated. Further details of his life will be given in their proper place.

BEFORE entering upon the life of Hazrat Mauláná, I had reached that point in my narrative where Hazrat Mauláná Muhammad, who was my tutor [ustád], had resolved that he would escape with me. Though he had previously had no intentions of this sort, the idea gained complete ascendency over his Christ-like mind. With this intent he came to me, in private, and asked me: “Do you propose to go to Khorásán now?” I replied: “Yes, I must go, for I have been sent for.” He then said: “It is quite certain that Sháhi Beg Khán will put you in chains, but what he will do with you after that I cannot say.” Then he added: “I have something to tell you, but will only do so on the condition that you will reveal the secret to no one.” I then took a very solemn oath and swore I would not repeat what he told me, after which he said: “They have murdered the Mirzá in Khorásán, and have now sent for you. They have given orders that you are to be sunk to the bottom of the River Amu, and thus to be despatched to the next world. If you know of any one who will carry you off, then fly at once.

For death attacks alike both old and young,
And fills with fear the minds of all it strikes:”

Fear and dismay overcame me, and I began to weep: I longed to flee, in the hope of saving my life.

The Mauláná said: “You must keep this secret well hid; be on the watch: for the moment I give the sign you must hasten away.”

He had a friend who lived outside the town of Bokhárá, and arranged that I should pass a few days in perfect concealment in this man's house. He informed certain of my father's servants of this plan, and arranged that on the night of our flight, these servants should take some saddle horses and start in a certain direction, in order to make the spies think that we had fled on horseback, and [thus cause them] to scour distant roads, searching only the outside of the town while not suspecting the inside.

Accordingly, the same night that we took refuge in the house of this friend, the servants took the horses and carried out the orders which had been given them. All turned out as we had expected. The spies imagined that we had escaped on horseback, and no one made search for us in the town. We remained fourteen days in the house of that excellent man. After this lapse of time, we joined a party of donkey-drivers and accompanied them to the town of Hisár Shádmán. In the bázár of that town one of my father's servants recognised Mauláná Muhammad. Fearing lest he might trace us out, we at once fled from Hisár. On the road I fell from my donkey, and dislocated my left elbow. We dared not re-enter the town, or the bázár, and in the villages we could not find a bone-setter; thus I endured the greatest agony for two months.

At Pushang, one of the villages in Khatlán, we spent some days in the house of one of its holy men, who was known as Khwája Habib Ullah. He was a benevolent person, and after diligent search found a bone-setter, whom he brought. The bone-setter broke the joint again, and set it. I had not been able to use my arm for two months, and from the intensity of the pain, had, during all that time, never slept at night. That night, however, I fell asleep.

One day, while we were there, a soldier came in and, placing his quiver in a corner, sat down. Having scrutinised the company, he came quickly forward, and said with great respect and courtesy: “Does not Khwája Mauláná Muhammad know me again? I was Mirzá Muhammad Husain's cook at such and such a time; in those days I rendered you good service.” And as he gave such clear proofs of recognition, it was vain to disclaim his acquaintance. Moreover, Mauláná Muhammad seemed much pleased, gave expression to his joy, and began to enumerate the good qualities [of that man]. That day and night they spent in friendly intercourse. When day broke and he was about to depart, he stood in the doorway of the house, in a respectful attitude, and said: “Oh, Khwája Mauláná Muhammad, blessings be upon your zeal and fidelity. It was a noble and a suitable act of yours to take Mirzá Husain's son and escape with him. If I had had any power or means, I would have given my assistance; but I have not. However, if I can, in any way, further your plans, I will hasten to bear my part.” So saying he departed.

A little while after, there came an intimate friend of Khwája Habib Ullah, who whispered something in the Khwája's ear; whereat the Khwája's colour fled from his face. He immediately took the man apart, and said: “Now repeat what Shaikham^216a said.” The man replied: “Shaikham told me to go and tell Khwája Habib Ullah that ‘this man’ has fled with the son of Mirzá Muhammad Husain; the child is the cousin of Mirza Khán and of Bábar Pádisháh. Perhaps the Khwája is keeping him in his house, and in this case he will incur the enmity of Hamza Sultán.^217a Behold, I am going to inform the Naváb Matlab Sultán [of the matter], so that the house and home of Khwája Habib Ullah may be swept away with the broom of plunder, its dust mount to the skies, and its vapour be diffused over the earth.” With these words he went away.

This Matlab Sultán was the son of Hamza Sultán, a one-eyed wretch, whose inward vision was rendered blinder than his outward sight by the darkness of tyranny. All the oppressed of those countries united, at his court, in a common protest against his tyranny. The leaves of the trees of these people's lives were constantly trembling from the violence of his blasts.

Khwája Habib Ullah remained for a while buried in thought, then raising his head, he said: “No one has delivered you over to me as hostages. I will not, from fear of being held responsible^217b for a charge I have not taken upon myself, deliver this little child into the hands of death. To do so, would be conformable neither with the teachings of Islám nor the dictates of humanity. Rise up and flee whithersoever you may be safe. And whatever chastisement may fall upon me, on your account, I will consider as treasure laid up for me in the next world.” We then, having returned him thanks, bade him farewell, and set out at once.

At this time Sháh Razi-ud-Din, who was a Chirágh Kush, appeared in Badakhshán. His followers used to put to death every one they met, deeming it a means of salvation, and reward in the next world. He had caused all the roads to be stopped, so that it was impossible for us to journey into Badakhshán. Sháh Razi-ud-Din was one of the cursed Muláhida of Kohistán, whose story is to be found in all histories. Most of the people of Badakhshán are adherents of that sect. They hold the world to be without beginning or end [kadim], and do not believe in resurrection or a future state. They say that during the lifetime of the Prophet, it was incumbent on all to abide by the statutes of the Holy Law; but at the present time, the sole duty of man is to speak fitting words and to be faithful to their meaning. All other ordinances are futile. Sexual intercourse [vati] with their own kindred is lawful, and the enjoyment of it is, in no respect, dependent on marriage; thus, should one have a passion for somebody with whom its indulgence is practicable, it is lawful to gratify it—be it with daughter or son or mother.

It is also lawful for them to take one another's lives or property. [In fact] the sect of Muláhida is the worst form of heathenism in the world.^218a At the time of the conquests of Sháhi Beg Khán, the people of Badakhshán (as has been mentioned) were acting independently; still, they had never neglected to pay tribute to Razi-ud-Din, who was a Pir-záda, or to his ancestors. At that time Sháh Razi-ud-Din was brought from Sistán into Badakhshán. But before his arrival Mirzá Khán, as already stated, had come, and having killed Zobir, set himself up as king. As the people of Rágh, as well as most of the Hazára of Badakhshán, attached themselves to him, his supremacy was absolute. All the inhabitants of Badakhshán, both far and near, openly and privately, adhered to him.

When we reached Dili Bázár, one of the chief villages of Khat-lán, we heard of these events. Whereupon we debated together as to what should be done; some of the people of that place counselled us, saying: “Nik Pai Sháh, although he professes obedience to Hamza Sultán, is nevertheless a well-wisher of Mirzá Khán, and has also pretty constant intercourse with Sháh Razi-ud-Din. If you throw yourselves upon him for support and protection, he will be able to convey you to Mirzá Khán.” The Mauláná, having left me in the house of some person, went to see Nik Pai Khán, to whom he explained that he was the preceptor of Mirzá Khán,^219a and that, having escaped the tyranny of the Uzbeg, he was desirous of repairing to the foot of the throne of Mirzá Khán. “If,” he continued, “you will help me in this matter, your reward shall be great;^219b I shall, moreover, be able to represent your loyalty in the most favourable light to Mirzá Khán.” Nik Pai Sháh received the Mauláná with great respect and honour, and instructed five of his most trusted men to escort him across the river to Rusták, which, though in ruins, was at least a place of security from the violence of the Chirágh Kush. At about the hour of midday prayer, those five men came and conveyed us across the river Amu, whence we advanced towards Rusták. When the blazing torch of the sun descended into the oven of the West, and the sparks of the stars were scattered over the smoke-streaked vault of heaven, fire fell upon the souls of those five men, and they began to brawl and wrangle. Three other poor men, who carried a little merchandise, were of our party, being bound for Kala-i-Zafar, where they hoped to realise a small profit. These [five men] said to us: “You must pay duty [báj]”; and what was demanded was accordingly handed over. Again they said: “To each of us, separate payment is due”; and this also they took. Finally they said: “[You have no need of money],” and they threatened to plunder us. How could five poor artless men withstand five stalwart ruffians [ghalcha].^220a Besides, they gave us no time, but began to bind us all, as a first step towards putting us to death. When they laid hold of Mauláná Muhammad, he called out in an authoritative and severe tone of voice: “You dare not do us any injury. Do you know who this is?” (pointing to me). “This is the brother of Mirzá Khan, who, flying from Bokhárá, is on his way to visit his brother. A great number of his servants are following after him, as fast as they can, while others have stayed behind with Nik Pai Sháh. If we do not reach Kala-i-Zafar in safety, you can imagine what will be done to you.” When Mauláná Muhammad had said this, the ruffians [ghalcha] became mild [sust], and replied in their own dialect: “Take back your possessions, oh! Khwája.” So saying they restored what we had given them, and turned to depart. In spite of our insistance, they would not help us any further, but returned. We, however, had no intention of returning; but putting our whole trust in God's protection, continued our road until dawn. During the day we crept into hiding, and on the following night again set out. At daybreak we reached Rusták, where we were safe from the hostility of the accursed Muláhida.

On the following day we arrived at Kala-i-Zafar. During the time of the Uzbeg domination, of which I have spoken, when the people of Badakhshán raised their heads in every corner, and the Uzbeg made several unsuccessful invasions, one of the chiefs of Badakhshán was Mubárak Sháh. He had chosen out a strong place for himself, but before he was able to complete the fortifications, the Uzbeg came upon him. He gave them battle in that place, and defeated them, and for that reason he called the fort Kala-i-Zafar [the Fort of Victory], which name is the more appropriate seeing that Mubárak Sháh was of a tribe called “Muzaffari.” It is the capital of Badakhshán.^220b This Mubárak Sháh was put to death by Zobir Rághi, who had defeated him, but who was, in turn, killed by Mirzá Khán, as already mentioned. [Mirzá Khán then ruled Badakhshán] and resided in Kala-i-Zafar.

Mirzá Abá Bakr had taken many of the upper [báládast]^221a Hazára of Badakhshán, and the lower [páyán] side, which is flat country, he had joined on to the Uzbeg states, which lie on the borders of this territory. But the best of the country that was left between these [two territories] was under the sway of Sháh Razi-ud-Din, the Chirágh Kush, and his Muláhida. Mirzá Khán encountered many difficulties and hardships in Badakhshán. When I came to him, he gave me a warm and affectionate welcome. Eighteen days before my arrival, Sultán Said Khán had come to visit him, [had stayed a short time] and then left [for Kábul], as will be presently related. I remained one year in the service of Mirzá Khán. The rest of my adventures will be told after the account of the Khán's journey to Kábul.

IT has already been stated that Sultán Said Khán had passed some time in the service of Sháhi Beg Khán, and was consequently well acquainted with his disposition and that of his nobles. He felt assured that Sháhi Beg would not spare the Moghul Sultáns, merely in recognition of having once been released by them, after having fallen into their hands.^222a So, whenever he had heard praises bestowed on Sháhi Beg Khán, he had protested. Ultimately, things came to such a pass in Moghulistán, that he had no resource left but to surrender himself to the Uzbeg.

Under these conditions, he entered Andiján. The government of the province of Farghána was, at that time, in the hands of Jáni Beg Sultán. He had given Andiján to Khwája Ali Bahádur, who was one of Sháhi Beg Khán's most trusty men, and whom he now promoted to the rank of Atálik^222b [guardian]. He was partially mad, but, in military and state affairs, exceedingly capable.

The Khán reached Sulát-Kand,^222c which is one of the dependencies of Andiján, but, before he told his name and descent, asked the inhabitants what had happened to Sultán Mahmud Khán, and whither Sultán Khalil Sultán had been sent. They answered him: “Sultán Mahmud Khán and all the Khákáns of the Moghuls, who have come here, have been sent to the City of Non-Existence, by the Gate of Martyrdom.”

At this announcement, the thread of the Khán's hope, which was slender as a spider's web, snapped in two. But he did not regret that he had come, for he had done so as a last resource, with his eyes open and knowing the risk he was running. Khwája Ali Bahádur sent people to seize whatever they had brought with them, and imprisoned the Khán in an apartment which was above the gateway of the citadel of Andiján.

On the morrow, when the glorious sword-bearer of the East drew his sword from the sheath of the horizon, and caused its dazzling brightness to illumine the earth, the resplendent world was utter darkness in the eyes of the Khán, who was sent, with his hands tied to his neck, to Jáni Beg Khán in Akhsi. But Khwája Ali Bahádur was depressed and sorrowful; he felt deeply for the Khán, but as he did not dare to disobey Sháhi Beg Khán's orders, he could not so much as think of releasing the Khán. Before sending him off he had despatched a special messenger [to announce the Khán's approach]. At about that time, Jáni Beg Sultán had fallen from his horse onto his head, and his brain had become severely deranged, so that now, most of his actions and words were inconsistent with a healthy understanding, and the reins of memory fell from the hands of his intellect. On the day that this news was brought to him, it chanced that his brain was influenced by the spirit of Islám and the Holy Law (the Most High God had ordained this, for the purpose of delivering the Khán), and he said: “I am not an executioner that I should endeavour to take any man's blood.” He then ordered a letter [nishán] to be written to Khwája Ali Bahádur, saying: “The Moghul Sultán who has come [to you] has not been delivered into our custody. It would not be acting in conformity with the statutes of the Holy Law were I to take his life. [It behoves me] to open to him the meadows of mercy and safety, that he may wander whither he will.” [Such was the purport of his letter.]

When the Khán related these incidents to me, as he frequently did, he used to say: “I had, for a long time, felt quite assured that the Uzbeg would spare none of the Moghul Sultáns, and had become so convinced of this, at the time of my first visit to Andiján, that when I arrived there [on this occasion], and^223a certain pious men had written to me and sent prayers [for me to repeat], I said in reply to them: ‘One of the conditions [of prayer] is that nothing impossible should be prayed for; now my deliverance must be reckoned among impossibilities, and therefore these prayers for my safety would be ill-advised.’ To which they answered: ‘Though these prayers may not have the power to bring about deliverance from the imminent peril in which you stand, yet on account of them, God will give you a greater reward in the next world.’ On this assurance I repeated the prayers which they had sent me. I began also to turn over in my mind my chances of safety, and how my escape might be achieved, but not one of the ideas that occurred to me seemed feasible. If, for example, Sháhi Beg Khán were now to die, how could his dying in Khorásán, at the time when they were going to put me to death in Akhsi, in any way further my escape? If, again, Jáni Beg Sultán were to die, his death would not throw the affairs of the Uzbeg into such confusion that, during the disturbance, my escape could be effected. In short, I could not conceive any possibility or probability of deliverance. As we drew near to Akhsi, we saw a horseman riding towards us; I was persuaded that he was coming to put me to death, and wondered how he would do it. But when he approached, we found that it was Mauláná Haidar Kharsuz, one of the notables of Andiján. Throwing himself from the saddle, he came and kissed my stirrup, with joy and delight that knew no bounds, and said: ‘Good news for you! Jáni Beg Sultán has issued an order for your release. The joyful mandate is now being brought by Dust Ali Chulák.’ It then occurred to me that he was saying this just to set my fears at rest, so I said: ‘May God reward you with good things! As for me, I have withdrawn my mind from life, and therefore do not stand in need of such comfort.” But Mauláná Haidar reiterated his assertions, and was confirming them with the strongest asseverations and the most solemn oaths, when Dust Ali Chulák arrived, and commanded my guard [muvakkal] to return, to escort me back to Khwája Ali Bahádur and perform all the details of the mandate concerning me. Thus, from within one farsákh of Akhsi I was conveyed back to Andiján.

“When the mandate was delivered to Khwája Ali Bahádur, he [having read it] handed it to me. On perusing it, I found it to contain exactly what Mauláná Haidar had told me. Khwája Ali Bahádur then said: ‘Though he should not abide by this decision but, changing his humour, should issue a second mandate reversing this one, still this is sufficient pretext for me; you must be cheerful, and enjoy now the soul-stirring wine-cups of the spirit of youth. Be at your ease.’ However much I insisted that it was but base deceit and a mean device to pollute the cup of martyrdom with [earthly] wine, [my protestations] were of no avail.^224a Moreover, in conformity with the rules of good breeding [ilm-i-maásh], I was obliged to give in to his mode of thinking [and with an unwilling heart I accepted his invitation]. As the wine-cup was passed round, the rose-coloured liquor diffused itself over our cheeks, which had become yellow as saffron, from the jaundice-tainted order of the livid-souled Sháhi Beg Khán, but now opened out like the red rose or the new-blown tulip. All that day was spent in wine drinking, [and when night came on] the feast adorning torches made the banquet hall bright as the day. [The festivities had scarce recommenced] when one of Jáni Beg Sultán's chamberlains named Alláh Birdi came in and placed a sorrow-bearing mandate in the hands of Khwája Ali Bahádur, who passed it on to me, saying: ‘Read thy letter.’ In it was written: ‘The question of the release of Sultán Said Khán has been reconsidered, and found to be contrary to the orders of the Khán. He must be sent to join those who have gone before him and who will never return: or, otherwise, according to the old Moghul custom, he must be sent to the capital, where he should, by means of the gallows, be sent to his lasting home.’ On reading this ill-favoured mandate, the rosy tints of joy were exchanged for the saffron hues of apprehension. Khwájá Ali Bahádur grasped the situation, and asked: “What is the cause of your dejection? Read out the mandate.’ So I read it aloud. Then Khwája Ali Bahádur became enraged, and said: ‘His brain is disordered with mischief: whatever emanates from such a mind, if it be originally a good thought, becomes a sin, and if it be a premeditated sin—then God preserves us! When a man has escaped from the edge of the sword, or from the foot of the gallows, he is as difficult to lay hold of as quicksilver—he disappears like camphor unmixed with pepper. Where can I find him?’ The chamberlain, kissing the ground of respect, said: ‘It is not reasonable that you, Bahádur, should deviate from the straight-road of loyalty and adopt that of falsehood, which is the worst of qualities. You say that the Sultán, like quicksilver, is not to be caught; but he is now at your side, and of this I am a witness.’ [At these words] Khwája Ali Bahádur blazed up, like a fire, with rage, and cried: ‘Have all the worthy services and deeds of valour I have performed in the employment of Jáni Beg Sultán, resulted in so little, that a Chaghatái like yourself (whose skirt of service is still so defiled with the pollution of hostility that no water of forgiveness could cleanse it) should come and give me the lie direct, and point out to me the straight road of loyalty to this family? I will report your answer in full to the Sultán.’ He then ordered a hole to be cut out of a beam, and that the beam should be placed upon the man's neck [and he be made to sit before the gate].”

After the Khán [Sultán Said] had been invested with the robe of sovereignty of Andiján, this same Alláh Bardi was taken before him, and he was thus reminded of the man's former base conduct. But he said: “Khwája Ali Bahádur avenged me that same night, and the rancour I bore him was washed from my heart. Let him now be restored to his former post of chamberlain;” and he gave him the middle rank of chamberlain, which was a high office for him.^225a

“That night was spent in companionship, until day dawned; on the morrow, attended by a few men, we set out for Karátigin. After travelling for one day, the men sent to accompany us, having lost the right road, turned back. When Khwájá Ali Bahádur was informed of this, he vented his wrath upon these men and punished them severely.” He kept the Khán with him some days, while he selected for him some distinguished and trusty persons. The first among them was Mauláná Khaliki, a talented, good, and studious man; he wrote the Naskh-Táalik perfectly, and composed good poetry; he was also a proficient musician. Another of them was Khwája Sálih, who was the leading merchant in the province of Andiján, and was known by every one he met on the road, while people often appealed to him for advice in their affairs. A third was Mauláná Yusuf Káshghari, who was an accountant [muhtasib], much esteemed in Andiján for his judgment. Another was Gadái Piri, a professional courtier [nadim] and a skilled musician. Another was Mir Ahmad, one of the Andiján Turks; he had travelled much and knew all the best routes. Another was Jalál, a very serviceable man. Having given him these few men as an escort, he started the Khán off a second time.

Khwája Sálih and Mauláná Yusuf were dressed like merchants, Mauláná Khaliki, Darvish Piri and the Khán were in the guise of students, and looked very like kalandars. Mir Ahmad and Jalál passed as servants of the merchants. Thus attired, they set forth and reached Kala-i-Zafar in perfect peace and safety. Here they found Mirzá Khán, who received and entertained them as well as his straitened circumstances would allow. They remained there eighteen days. Now, since Mirzá Khán was a very feeble man, some of his retainers, on account of his weakness, thought fit to offer the Khán the government of Kala-i-Zafar (which was not worth half a loaf of bread). But the Khán declined, saying: “Mirzá Khán, who is my cousin, has been exposed to a thousand hardships, by crooked fortune. It would be contrary to all rules of good feeling and justice to oppose him, or to deprive him of this [possession].” The Khán accordingly hastened to depart, and went on to Kábul. Eighteen days after his departure, I arrived at Mirzá Khán's [capital], as has been mentioned above.

On reaching Kábul, the Khán was welcomed with the utmost respect and honour by the Emperor. The Khán used to say [when telling his story]: “Those days that I spent in Kábul were the freest from care or sorrow of any I have ever experienced, or ever shall experience. I spent two years and a half at the court of this excellent Prince, in a continual succession of enjoyments, and in the most complete abandonment to pleasure and absence of preoccupation. I was on friendly terms with all, and made welcome by all. I never suffered even a headache, unless from the effects of wine; and never felt distressed or sad, except on account of the ringlets of some beloved one.”

In short, the Khán remained in Kábul as the companion and confidant of the Emperor. There existed between these two great princes perfect accord and love and trust. The Khán's visit lasted from Shabán 914 to Ramazán 916,^226a at which latter date Sháhi Beg Khán fell into the hands of Sháh Ismail, and was killed by him, as will be related.

I HAVE mentioned that I arrived at Kala-i-Zafar just eighteen days after the Khán's departure for Kábul. Mirzá Khán was living there in exceedingly straitened circumstances, being without provisions and surrounded by the scheming natives of Badakhshán. The Tangi Bálá,^227a in which are situated the strongest places of the Hazára, had been annexed to Káshghar, as will be mentioned below. The flat country of Badakhshán, the most fertile and prosperous part of that state, was under the control of the Uzbeg; while the rest [of the land] from fear of the Uzbeg had [been abandoned and had] become a waste. What yet remained over from the panther of the mountains of enmity, on the one hand, and from the crocodile of the river of tyranny, on the other, (that is to say, the Uzbeg and the Káshghari) had passed to Sháh Razi-ud-Din, the Chirágh Kush, who, having been brought from Sistán to Badakhshán, had been appointed king [of this portion]. He had introduced the religion of the Muláhidas, and outdid the oppression of his two tyrannical predecessors. Mirzá Khán, as a Musulmán, was much harassed [by these infidels] and had scarcely the necessaries of life. That winter was passed in suffering.

In the early spring, a dissension arose among the supporters of Sháh Razi-ud-Din, which ended in their cutting off his head and laying it at the feet of Mirzá Khán. By this defeat of the Mulá-hida [Mirzá Khán] gained a little power. Thus passed the spring; and at the end of autumn [tirmáh] a compulsory order came from the Emperor of the following purport: “The son of Muhammad Husain Mirzá has been with you; your country is always exposed to the forays of the Uzbeg, and my mind can never be at rest as long as he remains there; you must send him to me.”

When Mirzá Khán gave me leave to go to Kábul, he tried his best to procure a coloured garment for me, but was unable to find one [and was obliged to excuse himself]. On that day a most curious incident occurred. I have already mentioned that I fell from my horse and dislocated my elbow at Langar Mir Amád (which is a dependency of Hisár), and that it had been broken again and set at Pushang. Although the pain had subsided, I was not able to bend and straighten my arm. I could not bend it enough to touch my face with my hand, nor straighten it sufficiently to draw a bow. During the spring I spent with Mirzá Khán, a man of Badakhshán, having stolen a two year old horse from the Uzbeg, had brought it as a present [pishkash] to Mirzá Khán who, in turn, gave it to me. One day the Mirzá was taking a ride for pleasure, and I accompanied him on that particular horse. While we were riding along, a thorn ran into [the khárish-gáh ^228a of] my horse. He gave two or three bounds into the air, and as I had not strength enough to keep hold of the bridle, it fell from my hand, and I was thrown on to the ground upon my injured arm. As I struck the ground, I heard a sound in my bad elbow. The shock was so violent that I fainted. After a time I came to, and found that Mirzá Khán was holding my head upon his knees. He asked me how I felt. When I had quite recovered my senses, having bound up my arm, they conveyed me to Kala-i-Zafar. There they sent for the bone-setters [kamángar].^228b On examination, they found that my arm had gone back to its proper place, so that after a short time I recovered the entire use of it, and no injury was traceable. This was certainly a very strange occurrence.

In a word, at the beginning of the month Rajab I left Kala-i-Zafar and the service of Mirzá Khán, and turned towards Kábul, accompanied by a party of sixteen. We only had two horses with us, and so limited was our baggage that I had nothing to lie on at night. Mauláná Muhammad, who was a sort of father to the party, had nothing but one meagre shawl, such as is worn by the poorest men in Badakhshán. What the condition of the others was, may be surmised.

When we reached Kábul, we were received by Shirun^228c Taghái, who was maternal uncle to the Emperor and myself, and one of the pillars of state. With a hundred marks of respect, he invited me to his own house, where I was entertained with distinction and kindness. Later, the Emperor sent a messenger to say that, after three days, the happy hour would arrive when he would send for me. After that, the moon of my ascendency and [the star of my good-luck] emerged from their eclipse, and my misfortune changed to prosperity. An order came that I should have the honour of waiting [upon the Emperor]. When I came into his presence, the joy-diffusing glance of the Emperor fell upon me, and from the excess of his love and the intensity of his kindness, strung pearls and set rubies began to rain down upon me from his benign, jewel-scattering eye. He extended towards me the hand of favour and bade me welcome. Having first knelt down, I [raised myself and] advanced towards him. He then clasped me to the bosom of affection—drew me to the breast of fatherly love, and held me thus for a while. When he let me go, he would no longer allow me to observe the formalities of respect, but made me sit down at his side. While we were thus seated, he said to me with great benevolence: “Your father and brother and all your relations have been made to drink the wine of martyrdom; but thank God, you have come back to me again in safety. Do not grieve too much at their loss. For I will take their place, and whatever favour of affection you could have expected from them, that, and more, will I show you.” With such promises and tenderness did he comfort me, so that the bitterness of orphanage and the poison of banishment were driven from my mind. He then asked me: “Who was it that carried you off in flight?” I replied: “My master, Mauláná Muhammad Sadr.” He then sent for the Mauláná. When he arrived [the Emperor] honoured him with many kind speeches, and kept asking him the particulars of his story, while the Mauláná several times recounted the details of our escape. [The Emperor] praised him highly and rejoiced his soul with promises of favour. [When the Mauláná had taken his leave] the Emperor said to me: “You have not yet paid your respects to Sultán Said Khán,” and thereupon he ordered one of his private officers to take me to the Sultán. I accompanied this officer, and at once waiting on the Khán, benefited likewise by his joy-scattering glances. I then returned to the presence of the Emperor. After sitting with him for a short time, I took my leave, amid assurances of royal favour.

When I came out, a man advanced to meet me with great respect, and said: “I am the steward [kalávuz] of the abode which the Emperor has appointed for you.” So saying, he led the way to an elegant mansion; its rooms were spread with many-coloured carpets and beautiful thrones [masnad]. Everything in the way of furniture, food, clothing, servants, and slaves, had been so fully prepared as to leave nothing to be desired in the whole building. It may be imagined how I enjoyed so sudden a transition to comfort, ease, and abundance from a state of poverty, misfortune, suffering, and hardship, which had rendered the soul weary of its confinement within the cage of the body. How can I ever show sufficient thankfulness? May God reward him with good things!

Thus I passed a long time in the service of the Emperor, in perfect happiness and freedom from care; and he was for ever, either by promises of kindness or by threats of severity, encouraging me to study. If he ever noticed any little virtue or new acquisition, he would praise it in the highest terms, commend it to everybody, and invite their approbation. All that time, the Emperor showed me such affection and kindness as a fond father shows his son and heir. It was a hard day for me when I lost my father, but the bitterness of my desolation became scarcely perceptible, owing to the blessed favours of the Emperor.

From this time, to the year 918 [1512 A.D.] I remained in his service. Whenever he rode out, I had the honour of riding at his side, and when he received friends, I was sure to be among the invited. In fact, he never let me be separated from him. When I was studying, for example, directly my lesson was over he would send someone to fetch me. And in this fatherly manner did he continue to treat me till the end of my stay [tá akhar-i-hál].

AS Sháhi Beg Khán had filled the cups of the Kháns and my father with the wine of martyrdom, and had made them drink it to the last dreg, so also was his own cup of life full, and his fortune departed; for has it not been said: “The wine which thou hast made others drink, that must thou also drink of in the end”? The goblet of his prosperity was upset, and that which he had caused others to taste, he was himself, in turn, obliged to drink to the dregs. To be brief, as soon as he had set his mind at rest concerning the Kháns and my father, Sháhi Beg Khán carried devastation in all directions. In the year 915 [1509 A.D.] he proceeded against the Kazáks. At that time, although Baranduk was Khán, yet all the business of government was conducted by Kásim Khán. In spite of his great power, Sháhi Beg Khán had not force enough to withstand Kásim Beg. At that period, the numbers of his army exceeded 20,000. In winter time every one stayed in some place^230a where there was fodder for the cattle. In the middle of the winter, Sháhi Beg Khán was engaged in plundering on every side, but he soon returned, his object being not to remain too far from his own country.^230b About the time above mentioned, he made his last expedition, but the strength of his horses and soldiers was quite exhausted; he himself remained in the district of Kuk Káshána, and having detached a force, whose horses had some strength left, sent them forward. This party fell in with a few men, whom they despoiled and made prisoners.

One day they had halted for the sake of feeding their horses, when news came that Kásim Khán was close at hand. This news alarmed them. Buyun Pir Hasan, one of Kásim Khán's Amirs, having heard of the invasion of the Shaibán, advanced against them with his own followers; he spread the report that Kásim Khán was approaching and had let himself be seen in the distance. Sháhi Beg Khán's men, being fully persuaded that Kásim Khán was really upon them, abandoned all they had seized—nay, even all they had brought with them—and retreated, in the utmost disorder and confusion, to Sháhi Beg Khán, bearing the news of Kásim Khán's approach. Sháhi Beg Khán at once ordered them to sound the drum of departure, without paying attention to anything [but getting away]. Those who liked stayed, those who wished to go went. Broken and in disorder, they reached Samarkand at the end of the winter. [Sháhi Beg Khán] himself went on to Khorásán, where he spent the spring.

In the beginning of autumn [tirmáh] he led an army against the Hazára; but search as he might, he could not find a trace of them in the Hazára mountains. For they had crept into hiding, so that it was impossible to find them. He returned by way of the passes, and along the bottom of a ravine where flows the River Halman [Helmand]. There were but few roads by which it was possible to descend the ravine, and these were extremely difficult. It was well nigh impossible for an army of that magnitude to pass by one or two paths, or to carry away [sufficient] water [or to water the horses and beasts of burden]. They marched as they could for several days, but from want of water they lost their courage. Numbers of the cattle perished; and this army, too, having received the decree of defeat, returned to Khorásán. As it was winter, and as two armies in succession had fared thus badly, he gave his soldiers a general leave of absence [allowing every man] to return to his own home and country, whether he came from the confines of Turkistán or the farthest extremity of Irák and Kirmán. At this juncture, news came that Sháh Ismail was advancing on Khorásán. Now, as the army was dispersed, Sháhi Beg Khán did not think it advisable to remain in Herat. He sent messengers to the surrounding districts, to summon the Sultáns and Amirs to assemble in Merv, whilst he himself proceeded thither; and when he reached Merv he found Sháh Ismail was already close upon him, as shall be presently related.

IT is written at the beginning of this Part, and is mentioned in the list of the kings who were reigning in the different countries in the year 905, that Sháh Ismail had gained complete dominion over Irák. His dynasty had driven the Perfect Law [Shariat] out of that country, and had brought about general massacres. However, there is no room in this Epitome for an exposition of his misdeeds. When the frontiers of Sháhi Beg Khán's states came to border on Irák, the Uzbeg used to make forays into those parts of Irák which immediately adjoined Khorásán. On this account Sháh Ismail sent an envoy to Sháhi Beg Khán, bearing suitable gifts, together with a letter, which ran as follows: “Hitherto the dust of dissension has never settled upon the skirts of our thoughts to such an extent as to raise a cloud of enmity. Let the path of fatherly conduct be observed on your side, and on this side the bonds of filial relationship shall be established. [Verses]

Plant the tree of friendship: for its fruit will be the desire of your heart;
Root up the sapling of enmity, which produces countless griefs.”

When the bearer of this missive arrived^232a at the court of the Khán, the [following] answer was returned: “It is fitting that every man follow the profession of his father. If he follows his mother he is going backwards. For Uzun Hasan withdrew himself from the circle of kings, on the day that he gave his daughter in marriage to your father, as did also Sultán Yakub, son of Hasan, in giving him his sister. You had a right to make claims on your mother's side, so long as there was no son in the world like me— Sultán, son of a Sultán. As the proverb says: ‘Let the son do the father's work, and the daughter the mother's.’ [Verses]

Kings know the secrets of the business of the realm.
Oh! Háfiz, thou beggar, sitting in the corner, do not complain.”

Having exhausted his eloquence, Sháhi Beg Khán sent back by the envoy a staff [ásá] and a beggar's bowl [kachkul], adding: “In case you have forgotten your father's trade, I remind you of it. [Verses.]

Oh! my friend, if you value your life give ear to good counsel;
Ye happy youths, listen to the wisdom of the sage old man.

If you place your foot on the step of sovereignty think of your own danger. [Verses.]

He may clasp the bride of sovereignty firmly to his breast,
Who dares to kiss her amid the clashing of keen swords.”

So saying, he dismissed the envoy from Irák, while he himself led an army against the Hazára. The envoy, on his return, delivered the reply to Sháh Ismail, who, on hearing it, said: “If it is incumbent on every son to follow his father's trade, we, being sons of Adam, ought all of us to practise prophecy! If sovereignty had been confined to the hereditary descendants of kings, there would have been more Pishdádi, and never any Kaiani. How would Chingis himself have become king? and where did you come from?

Then, in return for his presents, he sent Sháhi Beg Khán a spinning-wheel and spindle, saying: “You wrote in your letter to me, ‘Whosoever would clasp the bride of sovereignty close to his breast …’ I, too, say the same thing, and behold, I have bound on the girdle to offer you fight, and have placed the foot of contest in the stirrup of fierce warfare. If you come out to meet me face to face in battle, our claims shall be thereby decided. And if you will not fight, go and sit in a corner and busy yourself with the little present I am sending you. [Verses.]

We have had many experiences in this monastery of Recompenses.
Whosoever quarrelled with the Family of the Prophet was defeated.”

Sháhi Beg Khán had disbanded his army, and was in Merv when this letter arrived. He despatched expresses to every quarter to collect his forces, but before even the troops of the neighbouring districts could assemble, Sháh Ismail arrived and pitched his camp in the vicinity of Merv. During three days there were continual skirmishes, and the army of Sháhi Beg Khán began to muster from all directions. Sháh Ismail then came out from the broken ground [where he was camped], and when the pickets of the Uzbeg army saw this movement they reported it. The Uzbeg [at once] imagined that the enemy had repented having come, and were about to turn back. At the hour of afternoon prayers, on the ruz-i-shak of Ramazán in the year 916 [1510 A.D.], they marched out, with a force of about 20,000 men. Some of his advisers, such as Amir Kambar and Amir Rái, represented that: “To-day we had better suspend hostilities [and not pursue Sháh Ismail]; for Ubaid Ullah Sultán and Timur Sultán are encamped with 20,000 men at a distance of one farsákh; [to-morrow they will come and join their force to ours]. Moreover, it has been positively ascertained that the enemy, in thus returning, either means to retreat or [to draw us on to] battle. If they wish to fight, we had better [wait until more of our troops have assembled from the surrounding districts] and engage them with as large a force as possible. And if they are really in flight, there is no necessity for the chief to pursue them in person. Ubaid Ullah Sultán, Timur Sultán, and a few other Amirs can follow them, while His Majesty the Khán can travel quietly and leisurely, stage by stage, right into Irák. It is evident that in the case of his retreating from this place, our men can drive him forward and rout him, so that he will not have strength to establish himself even in Irák.” To this the Khán replied: “[You have said well] nevertheless, to make war on Sháh Ismail is a holy war, and one of importance: moreover there will be much plunder, and it would be a sacrifice of gain in this world and advantage in the next, were I to share [this undertaking] with the Sultáns. We must be bold.” So saying, he [mounted his horse and that same hour] set out [in pursuit of Sháh Ismail]. When they had crossed the broken ground and entered the open plain, they saw that the enemy had halted, and they calculated them to be 40,000 strong. Before the Uzbeg army had time to get properly into fighting order, the Turkomán contingent charged them. When Sháhi Beg Khán's men saw themselves outflanked by the enemy, they lost their steadiness and turned in flight. But the leaders of the army stood their ground, till at length Sháhi Beg Khán and all his officers were killed. No history has recorded, nor has any one read or heard of [another] battle in which all the commanders of the army were slain.

When the fugitives reached the fort of Merv, every man of them who was able to do so, took his family and fled, while such as were unable, repeated the verse [from the Korán] about separation from wife and children, and then departed.

Now, most of the Moghuls had been sent to Khorásán by Sháhi Beg Khán, so that they might be further from the Kháns and from Moghulistán. When the Uzbeg reached the River Amu, they fell into the hands of these Moghuls, who did not fail to plunder them. 20,000 Moghuls then separated themselves and went to Kunduz. Ubaid Ullah Sultán and Timur Sultán were still encamped near Merv, when news of the defeat reached them. They immediately repaired to the fort of Merv, when they seized the haram of Sháhi Beg Khán, and of several of the Sultans and nobles, together with anything that caught their eye, and went off again the same night. Of those who stayed behind, all the men were compelled, by the flashing swords of the Turkománs, to taste the wine of martyrdom, while the women were carried off into bondage. There followed, also, a general massacre of the people of Merv.

Meanwhile Sháh Ismail returned to Herat, where he commanded all the chief men [akábir] of the town to assemble in the Mulkán mosque, and read the Khutba; also, while the Khutba was being read, to pour out curses upon the Companions of the Prophet and the faithful Aisha. When the chief men were met together in the mosque of Mulkán, they carried out that unseemly order, and then remained silent, until Háfiz-ud-Din, who was the preacher [khatib], was conducted to the pulpit. Háfiz ascended the pulpit and gave out praise and thanksgiving to the Bestower of all good gifts, and praises to the Lord of all living things [the Prophet]. When the turn came for the blessed names of the Companions of the Prophet, the hand of honour and piety seized the collar of [faithfulness to] Islám and gave him the courage of Háfiz, so that he, preferring the good things of the next world, and eternal felicity, to this transitory life, said: “For many years I have read the Khutba in accordance with the Sunna. To-day, the sun of my life has reached the west of old age. If it were the dawn of my days, I might not have hesitated to perform this act of infidelity to preserve my young life; but now that my days are just drawing to a close, what benefit could I derive from such an act of blasphemy [kufr]?” So saying, he proceeded to read out the names of the Companions, with the customary honour and respect. The accursed Kizilbásh (may God curse them) rose up to a man, and pulled the hoaryheaded Háfiz down from the pulpit, by his collar, trampled him under their feet, and then cut him in pieces; while the great men of the city all fled.

On the following day, the Shaikh-ul-Islám (who has been mentioned among the great men of Khorásán) was sent for by Sháh Ismail. When the Shaikh came into the king's presence, the king turned to him and said: “Oh, Shaikh! you are a learned man. It is a pity you should commit an error. Come and curse the Companions and adopt the Shia faith.” The Shaikh then opened his lips and said: “Oh, my son! what do you know of religion, that you should point out the way thereof to me? Bring before me those cowardly men who are nothing more or less than infidels and worthy of death, and who have brought you to this sad plight. If their words convince me, I will renounce my own faith and enter their sect. But if the superiority of my religion is proved against them, then you will renounce your corrupt belief and adopt my pure faith.”

Then Sháh Ismail turned to his Ulama and asked them what they had to say to this. They replied: “With people such as these words are of no avail.”

That hundred times a wretch twice turned towards the Shaikh ul-Islám and said: “Come, Shaikh, renounce your sect.” But the Shaikh retorted insultingly: “Oh, cursed infidel, may your mouth he filled with the earth of malediction, and your head struck with the stones of execration! You, who are deceived by false and wicked guides, and cannot distinguish between the path of life and the road to perdition: what do you know of religion, or of sects? How do you know Satan from God the all-merciful? By what science, learning, intelligence, or perception can you distinguish the true from the false, that you should lecture me on the True Faith?” On hearing these scornful remarks, the king laid hold of his bow and let fly an arrow at the Shaikh, which struck him. The Shaikh pulled the arrow out, rubbed some of the blood that issued from the wound, over his blessed face and white beard, saying: “Thanks be to God, that after a life of eighty years spent in the confirmation of the True Faith, and the refutation of false doctrine, I have seen my white beard stained with the blood of martyrdom.” That black-faced heretic [bad-kish] then drew another arrow from his quiver [kish], and shot it at the Shaikh. He then gave orders for him to be carried out and hanged on a tree, and for the tree to be afterwards cut down from the root. The Shaikh fell with the tree, and they carried him away and burned him in the Malik bazaar. Try as they might, they could not make the blessed breast of the Shaikh to burn, and he lay for some time in the bazaar exposed to the kicks of infidels…^236a In short, the persecution was continued as long as Sháh Ismail remained in Khorásán.

A summarised account of the rest of his reign will follow.

IN the early part of Ramazán of the year 916 [1510 A.D.] a person came to Kábul with a letter from Mirzá Khán to the Emperor. The passes were blocked with snow, for it was the season of the beginning of Capricorn. The letter contained the news that Sháh Ismail, having come from Irák, had engaged and defeated Sháhi Beg Khán at Merv. It had not been fully ascertained whether Sháhi Beg Khán had been killed or not.^237a All the Uzbeg had recrossed the river Amu, and fled to Kunduz, where Amir Urus Durman then was.^237b

Nearly 20,000 Moghuls, having separated from the Uzbeg, had also gone to Kunduz from Merv. “I, myself,” he added, “have gone over to Kunduz. If you will quickly turn the reins of your power in the direction of Kunduz, I will attach myself to you, and I have the firmest hope that you may soon recover your hereditary kingdom.”

[As soon as the Emperor had read the contents of this letter] he set out with all possible speed [although it was] in the depth of winter. [He took the route] of Ab Dara^237c [since by that route] there were no high passes to cross. He kept the Feast of Ramazán^237d in the Bamián district, and at the beginning of Shawál reached Kunduz, where he was received by Mirzá Khán, and by the Moghuls who had been with the Uzbeg. Having reposed for a few days in Kunduz, after the fatigues of the journey, it was proposed that they should proceed against Hisár, where Hamza Sultán and Mahdi Sultán, two of the most eminent of the Uzbeg Sultáns, were ruling. The winter was nearly over when they passed the River Amu, at the ford of Tukuz Tárám. When Hamza Sultán heard of their approach, he rode out of Hisár and repaired to Vakhsh, while the Emperor advanced to the plain [dasht] of Kulak,^238a which is one of the most noted localities in Khatlán. There he learnt that Hamza Sultán was in Vakhsh. That same night he set out by the higher road to surprise Sultán Hamza, and at sunrise reached his camp. Nobody was there. They searched on every side, and found a few peasants, who gave them the following information concerning Hamza Sultán: “Yesterday, at the hour of midday prayers, news came that the Emperor had pitched his camp in the plain of Kulak, whereupon [Hamza Sultán] immediately set out for that place, by the lower road.” The Emperor at once started in pursuit, along the road which Hamza Sultán had taken, and at noontide prayers again found himself at his quarters of the night before. Hamza Sultán, for his part, had reached the camp at dawn, and found a precisely similar state of affairs; he, too, set out in the track of our army, and at midday prayer time re-entered his own camp.

The Emperor and his men believed that Hamza Sultán would not be able to resist them; while Hamza Sultán, on the other hand, thought that [the Emperor] had only brought a few men with him from Kábul, and that the Moghul army, having only just arrived, would not yet have made sufficient preparations to be able to fight. As both sides entertained such ideas as these, they became afraid of one another.^238b That same night the Emperor pressed on to Kunduz, while Hamza Sultán fled to Hisár. After a few days, they each received the news of the other's flight, and both of them repeated, in thankfulness for their escape, the verse “Praise be to God who has averted from us an affliction.” The Emperor, on reaching Kunduz, found that an ambassador had arrived from Sháh Ismail, bearing tenders of friendship. In the meantime Khánzáda Begum, the Emperor's sister, had come from Khorásán [having been sent by Sháh Ismail]. It has been already related how the Emperor, at the siege of Samarkand, had given his sister, Khánzáda Begum, to Sháhi Beg Khán, as a ransom for his own life, and had thus escaped. The Begum was taken into Sháhi Beg Khán's haram, and by him, had a son named Khurram Sháh Sultán. After this, the Khán [Sháhi Beg] began to fear that she might, in concert with her brother, plot against his life; he therefore divorced her, and gave her to Sayyid Hádi, one of the most eminent Sayyids of the Sayyidátái^239a —a man who was held in the greatest respect and honour by himself and the Sultáns and all the Uzbeg. Sayyid Hádi had been killed in the battle of Merv, and the Begum and her son had fallen into the hands of the Turkománs. When Sháh Ismail discovered that she was Babar Pádisháh's sister, he treated her with great attention, and sent her back, with an ambassador bearing costly gifts, to the Emperor. When Khánzáda Begum arrived [the Emperor was overjoyed] and despatched Mirzá Khán to Sháh Ismail laden with presents, and charged with protestations of submission, good faith, and entreaties for support and assistance. Sháh Ismail received him well, and having acceded to his requests, speedily gave him leave to return.

During this interval, a messenger came from my uncle to announce that he had entirely cleared Farghána of the Uzbeg, and that he had brought that country under his complete control, so that the extermination of the Uzbeg and the conquest of Mavará-un-Nahr would now become an easy matter. This brings me to the next chapter.

AT the time of the devastation of Táshkand, my father's brother, Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá (who is everywhere spoken of in this book as “my uncle” in an absolute sense), was in Táshkand, in the service of Sultán Mahmud Khán. When the Kháns went to attack Andiján, they first of all easily subdued Kásán, and gave it to my uncle; they next proceeded to Akhsi, whither Sháhi Beg Khán had also gone, and there a fight ensued, which has been already mentioned. On the news of Sháhi Beg Khán's victory reaching my uncle, he left Kásán [immediately], and though he himself had not been defeated, he joined those who were flying into Moghulistán. When Sultán Mahmud Khán went into Moghul-istán (as has been mentioned) my uncle remained with him until the death of Sultán Ahmad Khán. After this event (as has also been related) the Khán said to my uncle, in disparagement of Aksu and Moghulistán: “The position of towel-washer in Táshkand is better than that of king in Moghulistán.” To which my uncle responded: “Verily, it is better if one is allowed to wash towels.” The Khán was offended at these words, and some of those base men [arázil], whose manner it always is to slander good people behind their backs, strove to aggravate the Khán's anger to such a degree as to cause him to put my uncle to death, and succeeded in preventing any reconciliation ever being effected between the two. However, the Khán said: “He is too near a relation for me to take extreme measures with. As he has no evil intentions against me, let him take himself off; let him go to Mansur Khán at Turfán.” My uncle, therefore, was sent to Turfán, while the Khán himself went to Moghulistán. In journeying towards Turfán, my uncle allied himself, at Aksu, with the survivors of Sultán Ahmad Khán's people, who had remained in that province.

When Sultán Mahmud Khán came to his brother in Aksu, his son, Sultán Muhammad Sultán, and Amir Ahmad Itárji were left in Moghulistán, with some other persons, and on the whole ruled with success. They sent out some men who brought my uncle; and he and Sultán Muhammad Sultán lived on the most friendly and intimate terms, until one night some assassins [fidái], disguised as servants, came and murdered Amir Ahmad. It was never discovered by whose order this deed had been done.

After this, the entire government of Moghulistán, and the authority of Sultán Muhammad Sultán, devolved upon my uncle. But for want of the old army and of able councillors [sahib-i-rái] my uncle's affairs did not prosper. All the old stock and the chief councillors were with my father, and had accompanied him to Hisár, so that nothing could be accomplished with the hundred men or so, that my uncle had with him.

During that time, Sultán Said Khán and Sultán Khalil Sultán, together with the Kirghiz, made repeated forays into Moghul-istán, so that my uncle [at length] fled from that country to Yati-kand, which was the residence of Sultán Mahmud Khán. Those same base men [arázil] again commenced their intrigues, and caused my uncle to be seized and sent to the Uzbeg. Jáni Beg Sultán was at the time in Andiján, and to him my uncle was taken. Jáni Beg Sultán did nothing [to injure him], but rather treated him with his wonted kindness and consideration. With him my uncle remained until the time of Sháh Ismail's conquest, and the Emperor's expedition from Kábul.^241a

In the spring following the winter when Sháhi Beg Khán was killed, all the Sultáns of the Uzbeg assembled in Samarkand; Jáni Beg Sultán also went thither, taking my uncle with him. At that meeting, the Sultáns came to the conclusion that not one of the Moghuls who yet remained in Mávará-un-Nahr, should be left alive. But to this Jáni Beg Sultán would not consent. He dismissed my uncle, and all the Moghuls who were in attendance upon him, [permitting them] to go to Andiján and join their families. My uncle, however, placed no trust in the permanence of Jáni Beg Sultán's decision, and fearing a change in his humour, got away with all speed. Soon after this, Jáni Beg Sultán regretted the action he had taken, and sent some men in pursuit of these Moghuls, with orders to put to death any they should find of them. My uncle had only just escaped in time. On his arrival at Andiján he joined the remainder of the Moghuls and the people of Andiján; with these he raised a revolt, and drove all the Uzbeg out of the country of Farghána. He then sent a messenger to the Emperor, by way of Karátigin,^241b to inform him of these events, and to beg him for help, as has been mentioned above. The news filled the Emperor with joy.

BEFORE this news reached Kunduz, a deputation of the leading men [sahib-i-rái] of the Moghuls, such as Mir Sharim, Mir Mazid, Kul Nazar Mirzá, Amir Ayub, Mir Muhammad, Mir Ibráhim, Yadgár Mirzá, Kará Sultán Ali Mirzá, Mir Ghuri Barlás, Amir Dáim Ali, Mirzá Muhammad, Mir Beg Muhammad, Mir Kambar, Sháh Nazar Mirzá, Kutluk Mirák Mirzá, and others, came and represented to the Khán, at a private interview, that if he desired it they would make away with the Emperor, and set him [Sultán Said Khán] in his place. [For at that time there were 20,000 Moghuls armed and fully prepared, while there were not more than 5,000 Chaghatáis.] But the Khán replied: “During the period of the hurricane of Sháhi Beg Khán's conquests, when the buffetings of the waves of calamity and contention dashed in pieces the ships of the life and prosperity of the Moghul Khákáns, [and they had all been drowned in the ocean of annihilation] I saved myself upon the plank of concealment, and arrived at length at the island of Kábul, which Bábar Pádisháh had contrived to save from the violent shocks of the billows of events, and where he then was. On this island, the Emperor protected me with the utmost benevolence. Now that I have attained the shore of prosperity, how malicious, how ungrateful it would be for me to perform so ignoble an act. [The Holy Law and the dictates of humanity prevent my entertaining any such base thoughts.]” By the hand of Amir Kásim Kuchin, who stood in the place of guardian to the Emperor, he sent the following message: “Praise be to God, the affairs of [your] State are to-day prosperous, and the various peoples are turning their faces towards the palace of that Refuge of the Nations [your Majesty]. The Moghuls, more especially, who are distinguished above all other tribes by their numbers and their strength, and whose Amirs have been the most eminent of Amirs, have always devoted their energies to the advancement of the work of their colleagues [ibná-i-jins]; they now turn to your Majesty. It is no longer expedient for me to remain near you; it is fitting that our ancient union should be changed to separation. If your Majesty send me to some quarter, where it will be possible for the bonds of our old affection to remain fastened, it will contribute to the welfare of both.”

Just at this time news came from Andiján, together with my uncle's petition for help. The Khán was immediately sent off to Andiján, together with every one that thought fit to go. These events will be presently related, if it please God.

AFTER the Khán had been despatched to Andiján, Mirzá Khán arrived with the auxiliary force which had been sent by Sháh Ismail, and thus the power of the Emperor became complete. Then, without delay, his Majesty marched for the country of Hisár; on learning which the Uzbeg, on their part, collected their forces, and under the leadership of Hamza Sultán, Mahdi Sultán, Timur Sultán, and several others of their great Sultáns, set out to oppose the Emperor. Kuchum Khán—who had been set up in the place of Sháhi Beg Khán—Suyunjuk Sultán, Jáni Beg Sultán, Ubaid Ullah Sultán, and all the other [Uzbeg] Sultáns, had assembled and encamped at Karshi, which was originally called Nakhshab. When the Emperor approached the Pul-i-Sangin, Hamza Sultán advanced and occupied it. Both sides remained encamped for nearly one month. Finally it became apparent that the Uzbeg force was numerous, their Sultáns renowned, and that it would be a difficult matter to resist them. The Uzbeg, on their part, came to the conclusion that the Emperor was unable to withstand them, and crossed the river by swimming it below the Pul-i-Sangin. Intelligence of this reached [Bábar] at about afternoon prayer-time, and he immediately broke up his camp and advanced towards Abdara, a locality where there are mountain fastnesses. They continued to march at their best speed all through that night, until the midday prayers of the following day, when they reached a spot which the most experienced leaders considered strongly enough protected to justify a halt. At midnight news came that the Uzbeg were advancing in full force; the commanders announced this simultaneously to the whole army, and up to daybreak every man was busy egtting his arms ready [for action]. About sunrise …^243a our pickets came in and reported that the Uzbeg army was approaching, Thereupon the Emperor mounted his horse and rode to the top of some rising ground. He saw that there was only one road by which the enemy could advance; on the left hand of the elevation [on which he stood] there was another hill, and between the two there was a deep ravine, through which, also, only one road led. When the enemy had deployed on the level plain, they saw that it would be no easy task to ascend [the first mentioned] hill. Timur Sultán and some of the other Sultáns, with about 10,000 men, detached themselves from the rest of the army and began to mount the other hill. Against these the Emperor sent Mirzá Khán with a detachment of brave warriors. At this moment his eye fell upon a body of men, and he asked who they were.^244a When [my father] had left Kábul, there were nearly 3000 of his hereditary retainers, [who had come from Khorásán to Kunduz with the Moghuls]. The chiefs and leaders of these men, the Emperor had taken into his own service, and some of the remainder became attached to myself. It was upon this latter body that the Emperor's eye now fell. They replied: “We are Mirzá Haidar's followers.” The Emperor then [addressing me] said: “You are still too young to take part in such serious affairs as these. Stay by me; [keep by you] Mauláná Muhammad and a few others, and send the rest to the aid of Mirzá Khán.”

When my retainers came up with Mirzá Khán, the Uzbeg made a charge, bearing down [bar dashtand] every one who was in front of Mirzá Khán, till they came close upon the Mirzá himself. At that crisis my retainers arrived on the scene. Their leader was Ataka Fakir, whose name was Ján Ahmad Ataka;^244b hereafter, wherever his name occurs, he will be called by the latter style. He attacked the Uzbeg with the men under him, and put them to flight. Then those who had fled from before Mirzá Khán rallied, and returning to the fight, drove the enemy back. In the midst of this confusion and scuffle, one of my men took one of the enemy prisoner, and led him before the Emperor, who viewed it as a good omen [fál], and said: “Inscribe the name of Mirzá Haidar upon the first trophy [juldu].” Thus, fighting continued on the left of the army till evening. But on the Emperor's side [of the army] there were no engagements, for the road was very narrow, and his position was not easy of approach from cither side. At the hour of afternoon prayers the brave warriors, having left the Emperor's presence, dismounted and encamped. At nightfall [bigáh] the enemy found it impossible to encamp where they were, on account of the absence of water—for none was to be had except at a distance of one farsákh—so, with the object of being near water when night came on, they retreated. The infantry, who had descended [the hill], ran after them, shouting Hai! Hai! [and making a great noise]. That portion of the enemy's army which was opposite to Mirzá Khán, also became anxious to retire, as soon as they saw that Hamza Sultán, who was in their centre [ghul],^244c was in retreat. As long as the two armies remained facing each other, neither side prevailed over the other. But when the enemy turned to retire, those of Mirzá Khán's men who had been facing them, [suddenly] made a charge, and the enemy at once fled. When the centre saw this division put to rout, they too let the reins of self-possession fall from the hand of stability, and likewise turned and fled. It was at the hour of evening prayers that Hamza Sultán, Mahdi Sultán, and Mamák Sultán, who had been captured, were led before the Emperor, who did to them that which Shaibáni had done to the Moghul Khákáns and the Chaghatái Sultáns.^245a

From night to morning and from morning to the next night, did our men pursue the Uzbeg—as far as the frontier [of the State] of Darband-i-Ahanin. The whole of the victorious army now assembled in Hisár, when further help arrived from Sháh Ismail, besides bodies of men from all the surrounding tribes, so that the entire force amounted to 60,000 men. They next marched out of Hisár and proceeded to Karshi. Most of the Uzbeg Sultáns were in Samarkand, while Ubaid Ullah Khán had fortified himself in the castle of Karshi. All [the Emperor's] councillors (and they were those who solved the difficult questions of State) were against laying siege to Karshi. “It would,” they argued, “be far wiser to push on to Bokhárá. For if Ubaid Ullah keeps himself strongly fortified and garrisoned in the castle of Karshi, Bokhárá, which is devoid of troops and full of fools, will fall easily enough into our power. He has nothing to gain by staying in Karshi. [God forbid that, fearing to remain there,] he should abandon the fort and come out.”^245b The Emperor agreed with these opinions, and passing Karshi, went and encamped [at a distance of one stage beyond it]. Scouts came, in rapid succession, to report that Ubaid Ullah had come out of the fort of Karshi and was on the road to Bokhárá. At that same hour the Emperor mounted his horse, and set out with all speed in pursuit of the Uzbeg. He marched night and day until he reached the city. The pursuers drove the Uzbeg out of Bokhárá into the deserts [chul] of Turkistán, plundering as they went.

When the Uzbeg Sultáns who were assembled in Samarkand heard this news, they were suddenly filled with terror and fled, scattered and dismayed, to different parts of Turkistán.

Now when the Emperor arrived in Bokhárá, he sent back the auxiliaries of Sháh Ismail,^246a after praising them for their services and bestowing upon them adequate rewards, while he himself, victorious and covered with glory, proceeded to Samarkand. All the inhabitants of the towns of Mávará-un-Nahr, high and low, nobles and poor men, grandees and artizans, princes and peasants —alike testified their joy at the advent of the Emperor. He was received by the nobles, while the other classes were busy with the decoration of the town. The streets and the bazaars were draped with cloth and gold brocades, and drawings and pictures were hung up on every side. The Emperor entered the city in the middle of the month of Rajab in the year 917, in the midst of such pomp and splendour as no one has ever seen or heard of, before or since. The angels cried aloud: “Enter with peace,” and the people exclaimed: “Praise be to God, Lord of the Universe.” The people of Mávará-un-Nahr, especially the inhabitants of Samarkand, had for years been longing for him to come, that the shadow of his protection might be cast upon them. Although, in the hour of necessity, the Emperor had clothed himself in the garments of the Kizilbásh (which was pure heresy, nay almost unbelief), they sincerely hoped, when he mounted the throne of Samarkand, (the throne of the Law of the Prophet) and placed on his head the diadem of the holy Sunna of Muhammad, that he would remove from it the crown of royalty [Sháhi], whose nature was heresy and whose form was as the tail of an ass.

But the hopes of the people of Samarkand were not realised. For, as yet, the Emperor did not feel able to dispense with the aid and support of Sháh Ismail; nor did he consider himself sufficiently strong to cope single-handed with the Uzbeg; hence he appeared to overlook [mudára] the gross errors of the Kizilbásh. On this account, the people of Mávará-un-Nahr ceased to feel that intense longing for the Emperor which they had entertained while he was absent—their regard for him was at an end. It was thus that the Emperor began [already] to flatter the Turkománs, and associate himself with them.^246b

IT has been recounted above, that the Emperor sent the Khán to Andiján. Along with him he sent, of the Moghul Amirs, Mir Ghuri Barlás, Mir Dáim Ali and his brother Ahmad Ali, Mahmud Kuli, Mirzá Muhammad Begjik and his brother Beg Muhammad; of the tribe of Dughlát, Sháh Nazar, Mirzá Ali, Kutluk Mirák; of the Kunji Amirs, Kul Nazar Mirzá, Khanánki^248a Mirzá, Amir Kambar, son of Haidar Kukildásh Barki, and others. All these departed in the train of the Khán. This party, on their arrival at Andiján, were received by my uncle and the Amirs who had assisted him in the conquest [istikhlás] of Farghána, such as Sultán Ali Mirzá Begjik, Pishka Mirzá Itárji, Tubra Nuyághut and others, who all came and kissed the Khán's stirrup.

After the Khán had come to Andiján, the Uzbeg Sultáns in Samarkand heard of his arrival and of the support he brought the Moghuls of Andiján. [Moreover] as was mentioned above, Hamza Sultán, Mahdi Sultán and Timur Sultán, together with a few other Sultáns, had assembled in Hisár with the intent of opposing the Emperor. Although Ubaid Ullah Sultán knew that Sháh Ismail had given over [the kingdom of] Mávará-un-Nahr to the Emperor, and was not going there in person, he [Ubaid Ullah Sultán] nevertheless, by way of precaution, stayed and occupied Karshi. What happened to him has just been mentioned. Jáni Beg Sultán, Kuchum Khán and Suyunjuk Sultán advanced towards Akhsi and Andiján, in order to check the downfall of Farghána. The Khán had made no preparations in Andiján, when news of their approach arrived, but he then despatched Sultán Ali Mirzá and Tubra Nuyághut Mirzá to Kásán. As the castle of Kásán was not well fortified, these men went and made it strong. It was the first place which the Uzbeg Sultáns attacked, and they reduced it to straits. On learning this news, the Khán sent all the captains of his army to the hills of Kásán, [hoping that] although they were not strong enough to cause the Uzbeg to fear them,^248b yet they might, at least, be able to harass their flanks, and inflict some discomfort and annoyance on them; also that the force in Kásán would thereby be somewhat encouraged.

When this body was sent to [help] the Kásáni, news of the event reached the ears of Abá Bakr Mirzá, who had just come from Káshghar, with the project of seizing the kingdom of Farghána. He had taken possession of all the country above Andiján, such as Uzchand^249a (better known as Uzkand), Mádu^249b and Ush, which comprise the best parts of Farghána; and he now [on hearing that these troops had left Andiján] marched towards that place intending to lay siege to it. [He imagined that the fort of Andiján was a very strong and large one, and that, without the necessary siege appliances, it could not be taken by a party of two or three thousand assailants. Therefore, he first got ready some engines [manjanik], ladders, etc., and then set out for Andiján]. When news of this was brought to the Khán, he and all his people were filled with the utmost alarm.

In the meanwhile the Uzbeg Sultáns had delivered a simultaneous attack on the fort of Kásán, had made breaches on all sides and applied the scaling ladders. Such was the violence of their assault that those within the fort, giving up all hope of being able to defend it, made their escape by the gateway on the side removed from the river. All the Uzbeg army had dismounted and were on foot; they had not thought of the garrison taking flight, and before they had time to get back to their horses and mount, the fugitives had gone a great distance. But those who lagged behind they put to death, together with the people of the fort.^249c

The garrison that had escaped from the fort, fell in with those captains who had been sent to the hills of Kásán to succour them. They now all went straight on, until they arrived at a spot within half a farsákh of Andiján, where they found Abá Bakr Mirzá encamped, with all his siege appliances made ready; for he had determined to deliver an assault from all sides, early the next morning. This same night the army arrived from Kásán. [On the morrow the enemy] advanced with the intention of storming the fort, quite ignorant of the fact that the Khán's troops had arrived. At early dawn, the Khán in person issued from the castle, and drew up his troops in order of battle. Mirzá Abá Bakr, on his side, brought forward his force ready to lay siege to the castle. The opposing armies met at a place on the road called Tutluk; both sides at one drew up, and raising their battle-cries, began the struggle. It would take too long to detail all the particulars of this battle. In short, the standard of the Khán was filled by the winds of victory and success, while the faces of his enemies were covered with the dust of death and destruction. The victorious breezes of the Khán scattered the enemy (who in strength and numbers might be compared to mountains) like chaff before the wind. Thus the army of Mirzá Abá Bakr suffered an overwhelming defeat. All of the enemy who were taken captive by the conquering army, were brought together, and the order was issued for them to be put to death in the park [kuruk] of Andiján. Having, accordingly, made them sit down in lines [the victors] began to kill them. At that moment my uncle [Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá] placing the knee of intercession upon the ground of entreaty, said to the Khán: “Praise and gratitude we owe to God for this victory, for it is the key by which may be opened the whole kingdom of Káshghar. I sincerely hope that Káshghar may fall into our hands with the same ease. But these prisoners whose execution is permitted by, and is in accordance with, the laws of retaliation [mazhab-i-intikám], are all natives of the country [of Káshghar]. If you do not spare them here, it will be as if you had committed a general massacre in that place itself— an act that would, in the end, be a cause of repentance and regret [to yourself]. If his Highness the Khán will forgive these men, who yet remain, and hand them over to me as my share of the spoil, his reward in this world and the next will be enhanced by such an act of mercy.” When the entreaty of my uncle reached the blessed ears of the Khán, he drew the line of forgiveness with the pen of pardon, upon the tablet of the existences of those prisoners. Thus about 3000 persons were rescued from death. Then, raising up their hands in prayer, they filled the air with acclamations of thanksgiving.

This important victory caused the Uzbeg to keep the foot of reflection yet longer within the skirt of hesitation. Following this event, news arrived of the defeat which Hamza Sultán had suffered from Bábar Pádisháh, and of his death, by the Emperor's order, after the battle [which has been mentioned]. A short time afterwards, intelligence was received of the Emperor's march on Samarkand and his reception by its inhabitants; also that the Uzbeg, who were in the city, had taken flight and therefore were unable to surround him. After these occurrences, the Emperor and the Khán reigned absolute in Samarkand and Andiján, respectively. Sháh Ismail returned to Irák. The Emperor gave Kábul and Ghaznin to his younger brother, Sultán Násir Mirzá. The Uzbeg all collected together in Turkistán. The rest of the events that ensued will, please God, be recounted below^250a —how, for example, the Khán and Sultán Khalil Sultán came, one after the other, to Andiján. Sultán Khalil Sultán left one son, who was still at the breast, named Bábá Sultán; and the wife of the Khán, who has been mentioned above, was with child, at the time when the Khán was put to flight by Khwája Ali Bahádur the Uzbeg:^251a she fell into the hands of the Uzbeg, and after a short time was delivered of a son. The Khán arrived in Kábul at the same moment as this news.^251b The Emperor said to the Khán: “As your illustrious name is Said, it would be very suitable to call him [the child] Abdur Rashid,” and the Khán decided upon that name. Both [these Khánzáda], Bábá Sultán, son of Sultán Khalil Sultán, and Abdur Rashid Khán, son of Sultán Said Khán, were taken in charge by Tutuk Khánim, daughter of Sultán Mahmud Khán, who, at the destruction of Táshkand, had been captured by Jáni Beg Sultán, as has been mentioned. When the Khán gained his victory at the battle of Tutluk, and drove the Uzbeg out of the country of Farghána, these two Sultáns were brought to him. I shall speak of them hereafter.

Having reached the story of what passed between the Khán and Mirza Abá Bakr, my history would not be complete without a brief account of the Mirzá's career.

AMIR SAYYID ALI, my great-grandfather [sivum jadd], whose history will, God willing, be told in the First Part, had two sons: Sániz Mirzá, whose mother was of the line of the Jarás Amirs, and Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, my grandfather, whose fortunate and blessed name has devolved upon me. His mother was an aunt [amma] of Sultán Yunus Khán. On the death of the great Amir Sayyid Ali, his elder son, Sániz Mirzá, according to the ancient Moghul custom, succeeded to his father's throne. After seven years, he went to join his father in the next world, leaving two sons, the first Abá Bakr Mirzá and the second Omar Mirzá. The mother of these children was married [afterwards] to Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, in conformity with the Moghul custom of Yangalik.^251c By her, Muhammad Haidar Mirzá also had two sons: the first was my father Muhammad Husain Mirzá, and the second my uncle Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá. After the death of Sániz Mirzá, the government of all the districts of Káshghar devolved upon Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, who for a period of twenty-four years ruled with perfect justice and impartiality. He was a prosperous man, for he had inherited great riches; he always realised his desires, and examined into details; [he experienced no trials or troubles]. But those young men in whose conduct, indications of bravery and intelligence were traceable, he failed to encourage. Most of those experienced and wise men whom Amir Sayyid Ali had gathered round him, during a space of eighty years, had died by the end of Muhammad Haidar Mirzá's life, or if they were not actually dead, they were only decrepit old men [shaikh-i-fáni], whose hands and intellects were no longer capable of guiding or controlling. Their sons [had developed into incapable young men] quite unworthy of their parents. At this time, Mirzá Abá Bakr was about twenty years of age, and was in the service of his guardian [abwi-mááb] uncle [Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá]. He mixed and associated, in the most friendly way, with the princes and youths [of the court], while they, for their part, from equality of age and from fellow service, became very devoted to him. Mirzá Abá Bakr was so open handed and generous, that in a few days he distributed all his property and household possessions, as if they were plunder [batáraj midád]. One day, one of his followers, hearing of some spoil, came in great haste, but found everything gone, and that others had already exhausted the booty. So he came and laid hold of the skirt of Mirzá Abá Bakr, who was standing at the door of his own house, saying: “Although I have come the last [and am disappointed of booty], nevertheless I have found a good pledge [which I will not give up until a ransom is paid].” At these words Mirzá Abá Bakr laughed, and bought himself free from the man with a large sum. In a word, his liberality was so unbounded, that all men flocked to him.

At this period he went to Aksu and Moghulistán, and paid his respects to Dust Muhammad Khán, son of Isán Bughá Khán. Dust Muhammad Khán treated him with honour, and after giving him his own sister in marriage, allowed him to depart. It would take too long to tell this story, and the details would carry us too far afield. In short, he managed, by one means or another, to reduce Yarkand, which is one of the most renowned cities of the province of Káshghar, and is distant four days' journey from the town of that name. To-day Yarkand is the capital of Káshghar.

He had collected 3000 men in his following, who had to oppose 30,000. When his troops reached that district, he openly sounded the drum of ascendency, and rang the bells of independence. Muhammad Haidar Mirzá went out to meet him with an army of 30,000 infantry and cavalry, but he was defeated and fled. He sought refuge with Yunus Khán, who was his cousin. The Khán also undervalued the strength of Mirzá Abá Bakr, and did not take his whole army. He came against him with 30,000 armed men. Muhammad Haidar Mirzá again made ready his forces, as best he could, and set out [with Yunus Khán]. This time, also, [Mirzá Abá Bakr] sallied forth from the gates of the citadel of Yarkand with 3000 chosen men, and defeated and scattered these two armies; and Yunus Khán and Muhammad Haidar Mirzá both retired, crestfallen, to Káshghar. The Khán passed into Moghul-istán, and in the following year returned with the whole of his troops. On this occasion, Mirzá Abá Bakr had made fuller and better preparations. He strengthened his cavalry by embodying with it lightly-armed archers on foot, as he had done on two former occasions, and engaged in such a battle [as the tongue of the reed is incapable of describing]. His men then again became bold, and showed more steadiness [and courage] than ever, so that they easily put to rout that numerous army; and the Khán, with Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, returned once more, defeated, to Kásh-ghar. But this time it became impossible for Muhammad Haidar Mirzá to remain in Káshghar, so taking his household with him, and accompanied by Yunus Khán, he went to Aksu. Meanwhile Mirzá Abá Bakr gained complete domination over the whole of the kingdom of Káshghar. After this, he put out the eyes of his full [yak záda] brother Omar Mirzá, and then banished him from his territories. Omar Mirzá went and lived in Samarkand. [Subsequently] when [Sultán Said] Khán took Yarkand and Káshghar, Omar Mirzá returned to Káshghar, where the Khán paid him unbounded honour and attention, until his death.

The affairs of Muhammad Haida Mirzá and of Yunus Khán will be related in the First Part; the object of this chapter is to give a brief account of Mirzá Abá Bakr.

For forty-eight years he remained firmly established and successful in Káshghar, exercising always absolute authority [istilá]. During this period [he was attacked] on one other^253a occasion, when Sultán Ahmad Khán, son of Sultán Yunus Khán (and known as Álácha Khán), in the course of the year 905, came against Káshghar. But his army likewise was put to rout, as will be mentioned in the First Part.

After the above mentioned victory over Sultán Ahmad Khán, Mirzá Abá Bakr began to extend his conquests on all sides. In the first place, he sent an army into Tibet. It gained glorious victories, subdued most of the districts of Tibet as far as the^253b

frontiers of Kashmir, and carried such desolation [zabun] into those countries, that nobody was left to withstand him. He next sent armies in the direction of Balur, which gained decisive victories and carried off untold booty. After this, he sent a force into Badakhshán, where he subdued most of the Hazára of Badakh-shán. At the time when Sháhi Beg Khán was making the whole world tremble, Mirzá Abá Bakr despatched an army to Andiján and reduced Jáni Beg Khán to great straits. He took Ush, Mádu and Uzkand from the Uzbeg, and reduced the whole of Moghul-istán to such a condition, that not a single Moghul was able to remain in the country,^254a as already mentioned in the history of the Khán. The reason of their [the Moghuls] passing into Andiján has been explained. All the Moghuls who were in Moghulistán fled in different directions before the prowess of his army. Even the Kirghiz, who are the ravening lions^254b of Moghulistán, were no longer able to stay there, but had to join Mansur Khán in Chálish. After the death of Ahmad Khán, and the arrival of Sultán Mahmud Khán in Moghulistán, Mirzá Abá Bakr went to Aksu, which he seized, together with Uch,^254c and carried off all the people from the neighbourhood of the latter place. He also left a garrison in the fort of Uch. My object in relating the prowess and valour of Mirzá Abá Bakr, and the extent of his conquests, is to show what a great warrior Sultán Said Khán was, to have defeated such a man, as he did, at the battle of Tutluk.

ONE of the obligations I have imposed on myself in writing this Epitome [mukhtasar] is, that what I have heard from other people and on good authority, I would briefly rehearse, when it was of importance; but what I have not witnessed myself, I would not dwell on too long, for fear of exaggeration, which I desire to avoid. But what I have witnessed or taken part in, that I have written as personal experience. I have divided the strange life, the evil deeds, and the depraved conduct of Mirzá Abá Bakr into three sections. Firstly, what I have heard from others and from trustworthy reports: this I have stated briefly; secondly, what I have myself seen or heard [directly], but which I could not bring myself to relate; and thirdly, what I have myself witnessed, and have written down in this Epitome. But this is only as one in a thousand incidents—a little out of many—a long story cut short.

Heaven forbid that any reader of these pages should accuse me of exaggeration or of slander. If I had deemed it permissible to depass the limits [of truth] in any way, I should not have said anything about Mirzá Abá Bakr, for he was my uncle. But if I were to omit his history, all other facts connected with him would be obscure and incomprehensible. It is my duty both to shun exaggeration and to avoid omissions. The truth is that for more than forty years Mirzá Abá Bakr ruled supreme. Towards the end of his life, the spirit of tyranny so mastered his nature, that if an offence was committed against him, though the offender might not be liable to any sentence according to the law, yet his evil heart was not satisfied with killing him once, but desired the death of the sinless sinner, a thousand times over.

If any one had, in the slightest degree, opposed him, and he only heard of it ten years after, he was sure to punish, not only the offender, but likewise his children, relations, connections, and dependants. On this account, his subjects grew so submissive to his government, that nobody dared dream of acting contrary to his orders. When he had brought his authority to the point of complete supremacy in all things, he made such a collection of wealth, in treasure, property, mules and cattle, as surpasses all reckoning.

He used to set culprits to work, involving difficulty which was proportionate to the gravity of their offence; he arranged for the separate employment of men and women, but he got some work out of everybody. [For instance] he ordered the old cities [known as] Kázik^255a to be excavated by these [prisoners], and the earth dug from them to be washed. If there were anything big, they would come upon it in digging, while anything small [such as gems] they would find when they washed [the earth]. In this way, innumerable treasures in precious stones, gold and silver, were discovered. I have heard some of his confidants say that a treasure was found in the citadel of Khotan.^256a There were twenty-seven jars [khum] of such a size that a man, with a quiver on, could get inside them, without stooping or bending [and without touching it on any side]. Inside each of these jars was a copper ewer [áftába-i-mis]. One of these ewers fell into my possession. It is a sort of flask [surahi] with a long narrow neck, to which is fixed a rough iron handle. In the centre of the ewer is a copper spout, the nose of which is on a level with [barábar] the mouth of the ewer. The height of it is, at a guess, over one and a half gaz.^256b When filled with water, two persons had great difficulty in lifting it, and they could not carry it from one place to another. Inside each of the jars was placed one of these ewers, filled with gold dust, and outside [the ewers] the space was filled with bálish of silver. In historical works, such as the Jahán-Kushái, the Jami-ut-Tavárikh , and others, a bálish is thus described: “A bálish is 500 mithkál [of silver], made into a long brick with a depression in the middle.”^256c I had [at that time] only heard the name [and had never seen one myself, but had read the description in these books]. These bálish had been placed outside the ewers, but inside the jars. Many of them were brought, just as they were, to the treasury, which fell into the hands of the Khán's army [when Sultán Said Khán conquered Yarkand]. I myself possessed some of them. Thus [subsequently] I saw the bálish [and found them correspond to the description I had seen in books].

One of the most singular things that I heard from those who had worked at the Kázik was this: In every one of the ewers was a letter written in Turki, which read: [“This treasure was prepared for the expenses of the ceremony of circumcision of the son of the Khátun called Khamár.”] But no one could discover who this Khamár Khátun was, nor when she had lived, nor how. How strange that in spite of witnessing such examples, man is not restrained in his lusts, desires, and vain fancies!

After the discovery of this treasure, Mirzá Abá Bakr urged forward the men employed at the Kázik, to work with greater diligence and care than before, and several other treasures were brought to light in the old cities of Káshghar, Yarkand, and Khotan. The mode of operations at the Kázik was as follows: eighteen or twenty prisoners, more or less, were secured together by a chain running from one to the other, at their backs, through a collar fastened round the neck of each. In their hands they carried spades [kaland].^257a They laboured both summer and winter. [During the day they worked] and at night they were put into a prison. If the prisoner's offence was very grave, neither friends, relations, nor strangers were allowed to speak to him or give him anything. So that not even one of the same gang [chain] as himself was able to tell him a story. There was an overseer to every gang, and over every eighteen of the overseers was another person, and there was one man at the head of the whole of the Kázik. If any one of these overseers, whether superior or inferior, in the slightest degree neglected his duty with regard to the convicts, as in flogging, commanding, urging them on, or throwing them into prison, and the like, he was himself consigned to a gang of convicts. Moreover, such was the strictness of discipline, that the overseers never dared to show any leniency. In fact, they could never speak a word, except officially.

Those who were confined for lesser offences, were allowed to see a relation or friend once a week; and in like manner, there were many different gradations for individual cases, from which [favours], however, not the slightest deviation, in the way of enhancement, could be made, without authorisation. [Separate] work was found for the men and the women. The above is only one example, out of many, of Mirzá Abá Bakr's cruelties. Many more instances might be mentioned, but they would disgust the reader, and the mind shrinks from narrating them.

It has been related above, that Sháh Begum, Mihr Nigár Khánim, my brother Muhammad Sháh, and the maternal sister of my father (who was the full sister of Mirzá Abá Bakr), when they were coming from Kábul, on their way to Badakhshán, were captured by the army of Mirzá Abá Bakr. The Mirzá brought them to Káshghar. His sister, Khán Sultán Sultánim, was a very pious woman, and had spent all her life in acts of religious devotion. For a long time he allowed her no food but wine, and when she was brought to the point of death by hunger and thirst, she was made by force to drink some of that [wine], so that she died in torture and suffering, all the same.^258a

He kept my brother, Muhammad Sháh, up till the age of fifteen years among his eunuchs [ghulám-i-akhta]. When [my brother] reached this age [the Mirzá] ordered a roasting-spit to be thrust into his stomach, then to be driven through with a hammer, so as to come out at his back, and impale him against a wall; thus nailed to the wall, he was left [to die in agony]. From these examples, one may judge of his treatment of his nephews and nieces, and of those two noble women, the Begum and the Khánim. On consideration, I have decided to withhold my pen from further details, for I do not wish the honourable mind of the reader of this Epitome to be clouded by the darkness of that black nature; I will therefore not detain him longer on this subject.

In spite of all these [barbarities] Mirzá Abá Bakr affected great piety, and was given over to good works, charity, and almsgiving to such an extent, that he never rested from these matters; while Mullas and doctors of the law were continually in his assemblies. In all his affairs and actions he relied upon a fatwá; he even procured fatwá for the most atrocious of his deeds.^258b If the Ulama granted the fatwá, well and good; if they refused it, he would accuse the Mufti, find him guilty and sentence him to death, but would pretend to show him mercy, saying: “He ought, according to the law, to die, but owing to my regard for him, I will remit the sentence of death, and will give him some work to do instead.” But the work he gave him was far worse than death. Among the fatwá he demanded were the two following.

If Amr attack Zaid with the intention of killing him, Zaid does all he can against Amr in self-defence, and according to the law is justified.^259a

Again, if Khálid^259b be one who excites sedition and carries his evil intentions to another kingdom, in order to stir up rebellion in his own, the governor of his own country does all he can to prevent Khálid from going to another country, lest he may become a source of distress to his own people; and in so doing is justified by the law.

On the strength of these two fatwá, Mirza Abá Bakr put to death 3000 of the men of Jágirák, Uzkand, and Mádu, who had designs upon his life. And he cut off the feet of several thousands of others, with the excuse that: “if these men run away to another country, they will stir up revolt [against me]; in this manner I will keep them within my own kingdom, that they may not escape.” Such were his acts of cruelty. [In this book] there is no place for a further record of them. Haply they are contained in the book of the Most Merciful of Scribes. On this account, I will now close the description of these repulsive matters.

The rest of Mirzá Abá Bakr's reign will be related presently.