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

UBAID ULLAH KHÁN MARCHES FROM TURKISTÁN AGAINST BOKHÁRÁ. IS MET AT KUL MALIK BY BÁBAR PÁDISHÁH. A BATTLE TAKES PLACE, IN WHICH THE LATTER IS DEFEATED. EVENTS THAT ENSUED.

WHEN the Emperor, in Rajab of the year 917,^259c mounted the throne of Samarkand, as has been stated above, the learned men and nobles of Mávará-un-Nahr were indignant at his attachment to Sháh Ismail and at his adoption of the Turkomán style of dress. When that winter had passed and spring had set in (the plentiful drops of her rain having clothed the earth in green raiment) the Uzbeg advanced out of Turkistán. Their main body marched against Táshkand, while Ubaid Ullah went to Bokhárá by way of Yati Kuduk. As the citadel of Táshkand had been fortified by Amir Ahmad Kásim Kuhbur, [the Emperor] sent him some reinforcements, under the command of such men as Amir Dust Násir, Sultán Muhammad Duládi,^260a and others, while he himself [the Emperor] advanced on Bokhárá. When he neared the town, news of his approach reached Ubaid Ullah Khán, who [becoming alarmed] immediately drew his bridle and returned along the road by which he had just come. The Emperor pursued him, overtook him at Kul Malik, and compelled him to retreat. Ubaid Ullah Khán had 3000 men with him, while the Emperor had 40,000.^260b Ubaid Ullah Khán having repeated to the end of the verse: “And how often has not a small force defeated a large one, by the permission of God?” [faced the Emperor], and a fierce battle began to rage. God, the most high, has shown to the peoples of the earth, and especially to kings and rulers, that no boast is to be made of, no reliance to be placed in, the numbers of an army nor their equipment; for He in His might gives victory to whomsoever He will.

Thus Ubaid Ullah Khán, with 3000 shattered [rikhta] men, who eight months previously had retreated before this same force, now entirely defeated an army of 40,000, perfectly equipped and mounted on fine horses [tupchák].^260c This event occurred in Safar of the year 918.^260d The Emperor had reigned eight months in Samarkand.

When the Emperor returned to Samarkand, he was unable to get a firm footing upon the steps of the throne, and so bidding farewell to the sovereignty of Samarkand, he hastened to Hisár. He sent one ambassador after another to Sháh Ismail, to inform him of what had passed, and to beg for succour. Sháh Ismail granted his request, and sent Mir Najm, his commander-in-chief,^260e with 60,000 men, to his aid. Thus at the beginning of the winter succeeding that spring, [the allies] once more marched against the Uzbeg. On reaching Karshi, they found that Shaikham Mirzá, the uncle of Ubaid Ullah Khán, had strengthened the fort of Karshi. They, therefore, began by laying siege to the fort, which they quickly reduced. Then they put to death Shaikham Mirzá, and massacred the whole of the people of the fort, killing both high and low—the sucklings and the decrepit.

Of the Uzbeg Sultáns, each one had fortified himself in his own castle. Thus Jáni Beg Sultán had stood on the defensive in the fort of Ghajdaván. When the Turkománs had finished with Karshi, they asked the Emperor about the condition of all the fortified cities of Mávará-un-Nahr, and he described them one by one. It appeared that the easiest of all to take was that of Ghaj-daván; towards it, therefore, they marched. The Uzbeg Sultáns heard of their coming, and entered the fort on the same night that the Turkománs and the Emperor, who were encamped before the place, were busy preparing their siege implements. At dawn they arranged their forces in the midst of the suburbs, and stood facing [the enemy]. On the other side, too, preparations were made for a fight.^261a Since the Uzbeg were in the midst of the suburbs, the field of battle was narrow. The Uzbeg infantry began to pour forth their arrows from every corner, so that very soon the claws of Islám twisted the hands of heresy and unbelief, and victory declared for the true faith. The victorious breezes of Islám overturned the banners of the schismatics. [The Turkománs] were so completely routed, that most of them perished on the field; all the rents that had been made by the swords at Karshi, were now sewn up with the arrow stitches of vengeance. They sent Mir Najm and all the Turkomán Amirs to hell. The Emperor retired, broken and crestfallen, to Hisár.

And now a difference arose between the Emperor and those Moghul Amirs who, when the Khán went [to Andiján], had stayed behind and entered the Emperor's service. To make a long story short, one night, Ayub Begjik, Mir Muhammad, Yádgár Mirzá and Nazar Mirzá, in company with the rest of the Moghuls, fell upon the Emperor so unexpectedly that he was with difficulty able to escape, naked, into the castle of Hisár; while [the conspirators] having plundered all they could find outside [the fort], marched away towards the mountains of Karátigin. The Emperor was powerless to oppose them: having left several of his trusted Amirs to defend the castle of Hisár, he himself proceeded to Kunduz. The whole province of Hisár, except the fort, fell into the hands of the Moghuls. The Moghuls have a proverb which runs: when a place is left unoccupied, the pigs will mount to the top of the hillock…^261b They withdrew the hand of tyranny and oppression from the sleeve of violence and enmity, and seized upon the households, families, possessions and cattle of all the people. One of the most distinguished of those Moghuls, who was in my service [at one time], used to relate: “They once [by way of paying my allowance] gave me an assignment [barát] for obtaining provisions, which was addressed to one of the inferior officials at Vakhsh. I alighted at his house and showed him my assignment. He pondered for a while; then he came out and displayed before my view about 200 horses, and a proportionate number of sheep, camels, slaves, household furniture, clothes and [various] materials, saying: ‘I entreat you to let me and my children and wives go with the clothes we have on, while you take possession of all that is here, and release me from the balance of the sum that is mentioned in the order.’ When I had reckoned up the value of the cattle and property, though it came to a considerable sum, it was only half of that entered in the assignment.” This story shows what degree of tyranny, violence and oppression they had begun to practise. Whatever property or flocks they found among the people of Hisár, they extorted from the owners, whom they ruined with waste and extravagance. There ensued a terrible famine among the Musulmáns,^262a and in the whole town of Hisár [only] sixty persons survived. The living eat the dead, and when these had died in such a condition that no nourishment was left in their flesh, the living fell upon one another. The end of these odious and revolting scenes was, that out of those thirty or forty thousand people, only about two thousand escaped, leaving their property behind; the rest were all engulfed in the ocean of violence, or annihilated with the sword of vengeance. The women and children were led away captive by the Uzbeg, and bear the burden of the ignominy to this day.

To add to all this distress and suffering, that winter there was such a prolonged and incessant snowfall, that the plains became like hills and the hills like plains. But as for that abominable race [the Uzbeg], as their tyranny and cruelty increased, so did their prosperity decrease. They, also, began to suffer from want of grain; and as the fodder all lay buried under the snow in the plains, they had nothing to give their horses; nor could they find any corn for themselves. Thus were these cursed people likewise reduced to great distress, and became impotent.

When news of their helpless condition reached Ubaid Ullah Khán, most of whose efforts were guided [at least] by good intentions, he felt it his bounden duty, both from a desire to restore order in the country, and also from a sense of right and justice, to go and expel these evil doers. At the end of the winter, therefore, he set out for Hisár. When [the Moghuls] heard of the approach of the Uzbeg, they knew not which way to turn, for they had themselves darkened their road to the Emperor; nor did they think fit to go to the Khán in Andiján, because whenever they might enter the Khán's service, they would be obliged to do some work which they considered beneath their dignity: the hands of their tyranny would be cut off and the feet of their insubordination crushed. On this account they abhorred the idea of going to the court of the Khán. Moreover, the roads were rendered impassable by the snow. For these several reasons, they took up a strong position in the mountains of the Surkháb and of Vakhsh. On one side it was protected by the River Surkháb, on two others by the mountains, while on the remaining side was deep snow, on which they placed much reliance.

When the Uzbeg drew near, they reconnoitred on all sides and found the enemy well fortified. As the Ustád says: “Life is like snow under the summer sun.” The snow on the one flank, on which they had put reliance, thawed a few days later, and left a very broad way through the defile. This wide passage caused joy to [the Uzbeg] and depression to those wicked [Moghuls]. One morning the Uzbeg charged down upon [the Moghuls], who, when they saw them coming, threw themselves into the water … (Couplet)… Most of those wretches passed through the water to the flames of hell, some few escaped; and all those who had not reached the river, went to hell by way of the flashing scimitar. Those that survived were taken prisoners, and all the suffering that they had inflicted on the people in Hisár during a year, God Almighty now caused, by the hand of Ubaid Ullah Khán, to descend upon them in one hour … (Couplets) … All those that escaped the Hisár river and the glittering sword, went to the Khán in Andiján, in the condition that has been described, or rather, their condition would not be possible to describe.

I have heard Mir Ayub relate: “Often, when I experienced ill-treatment from the Moghuls, and witnessed their dealings with the people [in Hisár], I have prayed to God to hasten to send down calamity upon them, that true Musulmáns might thereby be delivered.” The moral to be drawn from this story is that one should shun cruelty, which embitters life and destroys happiness: one should practise justice, which strengthens prosperity and sweetens life. “Divine aid is a precious thing, and is only given to the faithful servant.”^263a In short, through the villany of that tribe [the Moghuls], Hisár fell from the hands of the Emperor. and came under the domination of the Uzbeg. So long as the Emperor entertained any hopes [of recovering Hisár], he remained in Kunduz, though exposed to the greatest distress and want. Mirzá Khán possessed that country, but in spite of his entire subordination [to the Emperor], he was not able to give up his own country to oblige him. The Emperor, with his accustomed courtesy, bore the situation patiently, and made no attempt to deprive Mirzá Khán of his dominions. At last, despairing altogether of recovering Hisár, he returned to Kábul.

When he conquered Mávará-un-Nahr, he left Sultán Násir Mirzá upon the throne of Kábul. On learning the Emperor's approach, Sultán Násir Mirzá came out to receive him, with protestations of devotion and respect, saying: “When you withdrew your foot from the throne of the glorious kingdom of Kábul, you entrusted the high honour of government to me. And I have guarded this imperial treasure for you until, through the changes of fortune and the revolving of the spheres, you have again come to place your noble foot upon the steps of the throne. I would now crave your permission to be allowed to return to my former government of Ghazna, and would be most grateful if a few Amirs, of whom I stand in need, were appointed to my service.” This devotion on the part of Sultán Násir Mirzá made a deep impression on the mind of the Emperor, who showed his gratitude by many favours, and allowed him to return to Ghazna, where Sultán Násir Mirzá died soon after [dar hamán ayyám]. Whereupon grave disputes arose among the Amirs in Ghazna, which shall be spoken of in their proper place. The Emperor remained in Kábul until the conquest of Kandahár; after that he conquered Hindustán, which shall likewise be mentioned in its right place.

IT has already been briefly related how the Khán, on the 14th of Safar, in the year 917,^264a separated from the Emperor, and went to Andiján; also how he defeated [Mirzá Abá Bakr] and the Kásh-ghari [at the battle of Tutluk]. At the same time the Emperor seized Samarkand: while the Khán became absolute master of Andiján. In speaking of the children of Sultán Ahmad Khán, it was mentioned that Sultán Khalil Sultán, being in great distress, had come to Andiján, and that Jáni Beg Sultán had been affected in the brain, by falling from his horse onto his head.

At the time when Sultán Khalil Sultán came [to Andiján], Jáni Beg Sultán ordered my uncle, Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá, Sultán Ali Mirzá Begjik, and Tubra Nuyághut,^264b to kill Sultán Khalil Sultán, in order that he might be assured that they were cut off from the Moghuls, otherwise [he feared that], on the first opportunity, they would stir up a rebellion and attach themselves to the Moghul Khákáns. These three, fearing for their own lives, drowned Sultán Khalil Sultán in the river of Akhsi. The Sultán was younger brother to the Khán.^265a

So long as the Uzbeg had the upper hand and were successful, these three men lived in peace; but when the Uzbeg were overthrown, they grew apprehensive lest the Khán should take vengeance upon them for that crime [and this thought was never out of their minds]. One day the Khán, in a state of intoxication, killed Tubra. It came about in this wise. Tubra was a rude, unpolished man, who had never been in personal attendance on the Khákáns, but had always lived in the deserts of Moghulistán and Uzbegistán, engaged in forays [kazáki] and skirmishes [karávuli].^265b He was ignorant of the manners of an Amir. He now looked upon himself as one of the pillars of the State, and thought that for him to speak gently or courteously to a prince was but flattery, while flattery was the vilest of qualities; that coarse speech was a sign of power, and that a rough manner and the non-observance of the rules of politeness due to a king, should be regarded as a mark of dignity in himself. The people thought he was insane, and that pride had thickened the fibres of his brain. In spite of fear and apprehension, he had certainly made roughness of speech and rude manners his second nature. One day, at a feast given by the Khán, the wine was passing freely, and Tubra's head became hot with intoxication; reason left his brain, and in its place came pride and wickedness. All those thoughts which, when sober, he kept to himself, he now let free with full force, and began to talk wildly. It was in vain that the Khán expostulated and pointed out to him that his railleries were out of place: that he should not let loose the reins of coarse speech and vulgarity. Tubra retorted in a speech reflecting on the Khan's family.^265c At this answer, the Khán quite lost control over his temper, and the harvest of his patience was consumed; he then and there gave orders for Tubra's head to be struck off and hung over the gate, as an example to all not to forget the respect due to authority.

When Sultán Ali Mirzá, who was one of the three, heard of this event, he fled to the Emperor in Samarkand, and joined his brothers, Mir Ayub, Mir Muhammad, and Mir Ibráhim. My uncle, Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá, who was their leader, was plunged into the greatest alarm. This event had occurred at Akhsi, while my uncle was in Andiján. The Khán immediately sent off Mir Kambar, in great haste, from Akhsi [to explain the matter to my uncle], saying: “Tubra was an ass; but no ass would endure him, even to buckle on his nose-bag.^265d Moreover, he had entirely given himself up to the paths of rudeness.” Mir Kambar succeeded in quieting the Khán with this message. Soon after this, the Khán himself came to Andiján. Here he treated my uncle with such friendliness and affection, as to blot out all fears from the latter's mind, and such a firm friendship was established between them, that it lasted all their lives. In later times the Khán never mentioned my uncle's name without shedding tears of affection.

IT has been already related that in Rajab of the year 915,^267a I left Mirzá Khán and proceeded to Kábul, to be honoured by the blessed glance of the Emperor, who welcomed and entertained me with the warmest affection. In public he ranked me with his brothers and nephews; but in private he regarded me with a truly paternal eye, as one of his own children, and I was the special object of his fatherly sympathy. So much did he comfort me, that he entirely banished from my mind the bitterness of orphanage, and grief at separation from my friends. Thus did I pass my time in perfect ease and contentment. In the meanwhile the Emperor resolved to lead an army against Kunduz, as has been already mentioned. It was the season of the polar star, and in the rigour of Dai,^267b when he said to me, with great affection: “The difficulty of the road and the coldness of the air are extreme. [You had better] stop in Kábul this winter. When spring comes, and the air is cleared of the bitter cold, you can come to me.” But I remonstrated with him, saying: “In this country, it is the consideration and kindness of the Emperor which have enabled me to endure the bitterness of my desolation. If the Emperor leaves me behind, to whom shall I turn for comfort?” When he saw that to insist upon my remaining behind, in Kábul, would prey upon my mind and break my heart, he ordered such preparations for my journey to be made as the limited time allowed, and permitted me to accompany him to Kunduz.

As many of my father's old followers were among the Moghuls, they all hastened, at this crisis, to enter my service, bringing with them such presents and offerings as their circumstances admitted. In short, I was well equipped with arms and men. More especially [I must mention] my foster-father, Ján Ahmad Ataka, whose name will frequently occur hereafter, in its proper place; he, together with the rest of my father's old retainers, attached himself to me. This Ataka was a trustworthy man, and had distinguished himself by his personal exploits at the time of the Uzbeg ascendency. He had made a goodly collection of horses and arms, which he put at my service. It was thus that he was employed until the winter, when [the Emperor] led his army into the Dasht-i-Kulak, as has been mentioned. I personally accompanied that expedition. On our return from the Dasht-i-Kulak, in the spring, the Emperor sent the Khán to Andiján. The Khán was very anxious to take me with him in his service, and, I for my part, had a strong desire to go. But when I asked leave of the Emperor, his blessed heart became heavy, and he put all such ideas on one side. Thus the Khán went to Andiján, while I remained in the service of the Emperor.

Soon after this, followed the campaign of Hisár, in which the battle with Hamza Sultán and the defeat of the Uzbeg occurred. In the former engagement, the aforesaid Ján Ahmad Ataka led my men into battle, and having captured one of the Uzbeg chiefs alive, brought him to the Emperor, who promised him a reward for his bravery [juldu],^268a saying: “This is Mirzá Haidar's first exploit, and is a good omen.” He then ordered them to record the juldu in the book, under Mirzá Haidar's name. This story has been already related.

I was with the Emperor when he captured Samarkand. In mentioning my father's children, I said that the eldest of all was Habiba Sultán Khánish; [she was my full sister] and had fallen to Ubaid Ullah Khán. When Ubaid Ullah fled from Karshi to Bokhárá and entered Turkistán, he was not able to look after his own family properly. Every one who could find means to make that difficult journey went; those who could not, stayed behind. Among these last was my sister, Habiba Sultán Khánish, whom I joined in Bokhárá. We then came to Samarkand, where we found my uncle, who had come, that winter, from the Khán in Andiján, on business of the State. Having settled his affairs to the best of his powers, he returned to Andiján, taking with him my sister, whom on his arrival he gave in marriage to the Khán.

In the spring of that year, when the Emperor went to encounter Ubaid Ullah Khán at the battle of Kul Malik, I was detained in Samarkand by an access of fever. When the Emperor retired to Samarkand discomfited, and then again departed [being unable to remain there], I was in a state of convalescence; nevertheless, I continued to follow him to Hisár. The Khán sent messengers several times to the Emperor to fetch me, and at last, displeased and irritated, he gave me leave to go. In my childish folly I did not (as it was my duty to do) pay attention to the Emperor's consent [but determined to go to Andiján]. Thus, on the arrival of Mir Najm, the Emperor mounted his horse and joined the expedition, while I set out for Andiján. I have already mentioned how the Emperor joined Mir Najm. I [as I say] went to Andiján; but before reaching my destination, the Khán^268b had been put to rout by Suyunjuk Khán, and returned to Andiján just as I arrived there. This occurred in Rajab of the year 918. From that date to the day of the Khán's death, in Zulhijja 939,^269a I remained constantly in his service, and was all the while distinguished by his regard and liberality. In short, until he conferred upon me the rank of Kurkáni, I was never absent from him. At night, where-ever his bed was spread, one was also spread for my convenience, at his side. At royal banquets, the right hand of my fortune was joined to the left hand of the Khán's favour. Whenever a consultation was held, my uncle was sure to be at the head of the meeting [sar-i-daftar], but he gave me precedence over my uncle; nay more, he did so at the request of my uncle, who used frequently to point out to the Khán that [although] I was only the son of his brother, still he recognised that my precedence over him was not only proper, but necessary. When he rode out, I always rode at his side; and when he went hunting, he used to instruct me in the sport [and initiate me into its secrets and subtleties]. He used to lead the hunt himself, for he was a keen sportsman. He never allowed me out of his sight, but used to persuade me to go hunting with him, and if ever I showed any reluctance, he would compel me to enjoy it. He used to set me various tasks to do, at the same time pointing out what benefit I should derive [from doing them], and would say: “Until young men begin to perform duties, they can never gain experience. [Otherwise] in important affairs and in large assemblies, in mosques and in the battlefield, where the leaders of the people, whether Khákáns or Sultáns or Amirs, take part, they become confused, and meet with opposition from their people. But when young men practise themselves in the business of their elders, they gain insight into the particulars of their various duties, and in all such matters as wars and the like, they acquire a certain confidence. This self-reliance gains for them the esteem of the people, which strengthens their authority. In the performance of these duties they learn to recognise their own merits and demerits, and to judge of the best modes of action.

“While in the service of my father and my uncle, I had these principles indelibly engraved upon my heart, and they used to make me perform numerous duties, that I might turn the advantages derived from them to the best possible account. What I learnt from my elders I now am teaching you, that you, in turn, may also profit by it.”

Till the age of twenty-four, I was employed in every kind of service, and all that the Khán gave me to do, both great things and small, I carried out single-handed. But if, even in the councils of the Amirs, in which I had my special place, an opportunity of some service presented itself to me, the Khán would forbid my performing it, saying: “In the battlefield you must remember your rank, so that you may not fall in the estimation of the people.” When I was between twenty-four and twenty-five years of age, he bade me desist from all these services, and said: “All that I have given you to do, you have done well. Now you can return to your favourite pursuits.” Thereafter, till the age of thirty, he entrusted to me the affairs of the army. But he caused me to be attended by men of judgment and experienced Amirs, and instructed me never to deviate from what they considered right, but to follow them in all matters. When several campaigns [lashkar] had been carried through in this way, he gave me leave to speak my mind in debates and plans of action. Up to the age of thirty I had never received this permission, nor had I ever spoken in an assembly, but had always remained silent. After sanction was accorded me, however, I spoke much, and whenever I used to speak in the assemblies, the Khán would say to me: “Explain this matter more fully, give us your proofs and your reasonings.” If I explained myself well and said what was fitting, he would praise me, and desire the people to applaud; and when I did not say exactly what was right, he would add: “What he means to say is so-and-so”; and thus would improve my words and satisfy the Amirs.

When some time had passed in this way, he said to me: “I have now learnt to rely on you thoroughly;” he then entrusted to me the entire management of the army and the direction of the government, giving me, in these matters, absolute freedom of action, together with sanction to issue mandates and firmáns. When I returned from my expedition into Kashmir, and came to kiss the Khán's feet in Tibet,^270a he called me by no other name than “brother,” both in private and in public. The details connected with [these events] will be given in the account of the Khán. I shall not record the rest of my own life until I have related the end of his.

[SOON] after I entered the Khán's service, news arrived of the defeat of the Emperor and Mir Najm at Ghajdaván. This was at the beginning of the same winter in which the Moghuls revolted against the Emperor, when the severe famine broke out in Hisár, [and much snow fell]. During that winter the whole of the province endured great misery and want.

At this crisis, news came of Suyunjuk Khán's march [on Andiján]. Three months previously [the Khán] had been defeated [by Suyunjuk], and his power of resistance had been broken. After much deliberation, it was resolved that my uncle should fortify himself in the citadel of Andiján; that Mir Ghuri Barlás should defend Akhsi and Mir Dáim Ali should hold the citadel of Marghinán, while the Khán should retire to the hills on the north of the province of Andiján, with his family and the rest of the army; for it would be difficult for the Uzbeg to come into the hills [to fight], and the fact that the Khán was still in the field [birun] would make them fear to besiege the citadels. Having decided upon these plans, they were at once put into execution. When Suyunjuk Khán learnt this, he did not see fit to advance, but abandoning his purpose, remained quietly where he was for that winter.

In the spring, news came of Kásim Khán. The incidents were as follows. When the Emperor conquered Mávará-un-Nahr, he gave Táshkand [in charge] to Mir Ahmad Kásim Kuhbur, and Sairám to the latter's brother, Kitta Beg. When the Emperor left Samarkand and went to Hisár, the Uzbeg, having regained their composure, laid siege to Táshkand, and at length reduced the defenders to great straits. One night, however, [the garrison] rushed out of the citadel, and attacking one corner of the Uzbeg army, got away. The Uzbeg looked upon their departure as a great blessing, and did not follow them, but were satisfied with the reduction of Táshkand. Afterwards, Mir Ahmad Kásim went to the Khán in Andiján, and on leaving that town, proceeded to join the Emperor in Hisár. But his brother, Kitta Beg, had put the citadel of Sairám into a state of defence, [lest the Uzbeg should come and besiege him], and could find no road for escape. All that winter he remained within his fortifications. Early in the spring he sent to Kásim Khán for help, saying: “If you will come to me, I will deliver the citadel of Sairám over to you.” With such words did he entice his brother and arouse his ambition, thus bringing him against Táshkand.

But at this point, in order to understand what follows, it is necessary to say something about Kásim Khán.

On the death of Abulkhair, differences arose between the Uzbeg Ulus. As many as were able, repaired to Karái Khán and Jáni Beg Khán, for the sake of peace and security; and in this way [the two Kháns] became very powerful. Since they had first of all separated from the mass of their people, and for some time had been in an indigent and wandering state, they got the name of Kazák, which has clung to them [ever since].

On the death of Karái Khán, his son Baranduk Khán succeeded to the Khánship, while Kásim Khán, son of Jáni Beg Khán, like his father, became obedient and submissive to Baranduk Khán. In addition to Baranduk Khán, Karái Khán had many sons, and Jáni Beg Khán had others besides Kásim Khán. Among [Jáni Beg's sons] was Adik Sultán, who married Sultán Nigár Khánim, the fourth daughter of Sultán Yunus Khán, on the death of Mirzá Sultán Mahmud, son of Sultán Abu Said Mirzá. After the devastation of Táshkand, Adik Sultán abandoned Sháhi Beg Khán to join the Kazák, and was followed by Sultán Nigár Khánim. But Adik Sultán dying soon after this, Kásim Khán took Sultán Nigár Khánim to wife. At the death of Adik Sultán, Kásim Khán obtained complete ascendency, and Baranduk was Khán in name only. Finally he banished Baranduk Khán, who repaired to Samarkand and died in exile.

Kásim Khán now brought the Dasht-i-Kipchák under his absolute control, in a manner that no one, with the exception of Juji Khán, had ever done before. His army exceeded a thousand thousand. In the year 924 he died, whereupon contests ensued among the Kazák Sultáns. He was succeeded in the Khánate by his son Mumásh Khán, who, in one of the wars, died of shortness of breath,^273a and was succeeded by Táhir Khán, son of Adik Sultán. Being a harsh man, he practised much cruelty, so that his people, who numbered about 400,000 persons, suddenly deserted him and dispersed, while he was left alone among the Kirghiz, and died, at last, in misery.

Nearly 30,000 men being now collected together in Moghulistán, they appointed as their Khán, Bulásh^273b Khán, brother of Táhir Khán. But the wheel of Fate has made such strange revolutions, that for the last four years, not a trace has been visible of these people. In the year '30, the Kazák numbered a thousand thousand; in the year '44, not a vestige of all this host remains on the face of the earth. They will be frequently mentioned [in this history] in connection with the Khán. Such is the story of the Kazák.

Even previous to the time of Kásim Khán's assumption of the title of Khán, his power was so great that no one considered Baranduk Khán; nevertheless he did not wish to live side by side with Baranduk Khán, because, if near him, he would not be able to pay him due respect, but would offer him opposition; and [he felt that] if he did treat him with honour, he could not reconcile passive submission with his own private convictions. He therefore kept at a distance. Baranduk Khán lived at Sarai Chuk,^274a and Kásim Khán, in order to be far away from him, went to the confines of Moghulistán. He made Karátál^274b his winter quarters, intending, early in the spring, to return to his original capital; when one of Kitta Beg's men, with some of the chief inhabitants of Sairám, arrived, bringing the keys of Sairám and beseeching him to accept the town, which he did. He then marched on Taráz, which the Moghuls call Yángi. In advance of himself, he despatched one of his own Amirs, into whose hands Kitta Beg delivered the town of Sairám. [Kitta Beg waited on Kásim Khán in person, and induced him to attack Táshkand.] Kásim Khán then set out with a countless army for Táshkand, where Suyunjuk Khán had fortified himself within the citadel. Kásim Khán arrived, spent one night outside, and then turned back again, plundering all the environs of Táshkand as he went. The rest of the events of Kásim Khán's life will be related in their proper place.

IN the spring of the year 918, the Shaibán Uzbeg (by which name is meant the followers of Sháhi Beg Khán) had become absolute masters of Mávará-un-Nahr. The fear of them had sunk into every heart. That winter had been spent in the above-mentioned plot;^274c in the spring they were busy devising further schemes, and thinking what they should next attempt, when suddenly news of Kásim Khán's advance [on Táshkand] was brought to them. Before Kásim Khán's arrival, however, the Khán went and plundered Áhangarán, one of the most important towns in Táshkand, and I accompanied him on this foray. When, at early morn, we came upon the people of Áhangarán, they retired with their wives and children and effects into a wood, and there took up a strong position. On one side of the wood was a large river, and on the other a deep ravine, which could only be approached by one road. They would not allow the pillagers to approach, and when the Khán heard of this he put me under the care of Khwája Ali, saying: “Hold the bridle of Mirzá Haidar's horse, lest he get into some dangerous place.” For I was still too young to distinguish good from evil or to keep myself out of danger. [Having entrusted me to Khwája Ali, the Khán placed himself at the head of his men and advanced on the enemy.] When he drew near them, he saw that their foot bowmen had made ambushes in every corner, and were ready to shoot. They had stretched their bows, washed their hearts of life—made straight, crooked, and the left, right. As our men advanced, the Khán stimulated and encouraged the champions of his right and the warriors of his left, warning them not to ride impetuously, but to make a charge in one body. The heroes drew their horses up in line ready to charge, and so busy were they getting into order, that they did not notice the Khán, who had made a charge all alone. It had been the Khán's intention to conceal his design from them by his words. Thus he threw himself upon the enemy before any of the others. Three men who were lying in ambush let fly their arrows simultaneously at him; but by the mediation of the Almighty, they all three missed the mark. Then the Khán made his bright sword to flash upon one of those three men who, bleeding, and in fear for his life, fell at the feet of the Khán's horse. The Khán turned against another of them; but the first had just put out his head from behind the horse, when Abdul Váhid, who was the Rustem of the Khán's warriors, having followed close behind [his master] came up and struck a blow with his sword at the wounded man's head, which sent it flying a bow's length off, while the Khán fell upon the second. Then commenced a conflict, in which all the enemy were annihilated, and where the Khán exceeded all the other warriors in valour.^275a

On his return, in safety, from this expedition, laden with booty, the Khán learnt that Kásim Khán had attacked Suyunjuk Khán in Táshkand. Whereupon he immediately set out for that town, but on reaching the pass of Kandarlik, which is situated between the provinces of Farghána and Táshkand, news came of Kásim Khán's retreat. Returning, [the Khán] proceeded to Akhsi, and having put the various forts of the province of Farghána into a state of defence, he turned towards the Kazák, his object being to make them attack Táshkand a second time. I did not accompany that expedition; being indisposed, I stayed behind.

The Khán advanced [in the direction of the Kazák] till he came to a well-known town in Moghulistán called Jud.^276a At that date Kásim Khán was nearer seventy than sixty years of age; while the Khán, being still under thirty, was in the full vigour of youth. Kásim Khán begged, on the plea of old age, to be excused from coming out [in istikbál] to receive the Khán. He commanded all his Sultáns to go and kneel before the Khán, and receive him. Some of these Sultáns were fifty and sixty years old; such as Jánish Khán, Sabásh Khán, Mumásh Khán, Ján Haidar Sultán, Kárish Khán, and others to the number of thirty or forty—all Sultáns of the race of Juji. When Sabásh Khán^276b and Jánish Khán (who were very old)^276c bowed, the Khán rose up, but when the others bowed he remained seated. Then Kásim Khán advanced with a courtesy which the Khán, to the end of his life, never forgot. Whenever he was spoken of, the Khán used to say that Kásim Khán was a most upright and worthy man, and would then relate the circumstances of their friendship.

On meeting, Kásim Khán approached and said: “We are men of the desert, and here there is nothing in the way of riches or formalities. Our most costly possessions are our horses, our favourite food their flesh, our most enjoyable drink their milk and the products of it. In our country are no gardens or buildings. Our chief recreation is inspecting our herds. Therefore let us go and amuse ourselves with looking at the droves of horses, and thus spend a short time together.” When they came to where these were, he examined them all, and said: “I have two horses which are worth the whole herd.” These two were then brought forward; (and the Khán used to say that never in his life had he seen such beautiful animals as these two). Then Kásim Khán resumed: “We men of the desert depend for our lives upon our horses; and [personally] I put my trust in no others than these two. [I could not bear to part with either of them.] But you are my esteemed guest, so I beg you to accept whichever of them appears to you the better, and to leave the other for me.” Having examined the points of each, the Khán chose one which was called Ughlán Turuk; and truly such another horse was never seen. Kásim Khán then selected several others from his droves, and gave them to the Khán. He next offered the Khán a cup of the spirit kimiz, saying: “This is one of our forms of hospitality, and I shall esteem it a great favour if you will drink it.” Now the Khán, a short time before this, had renounced all intoxicating liquors; so he excused himself, saying: “I have foresworn such things as this: how can I break my vow?” To which Kásim Khán replied: “I have already told you that our favourite beverage is mare's milk and its products, and of these this [kimiz] is the pleasantest. If you do not accept what I now offer you, I am totally at a loss to know what to give you in its place, in performance of the duties of hospitality. Years must elapse before such an honourable guest as yourself again enters the house of your humble host; and now I am incapable of entertaining you. How can I make reparation for this?” So saying he hung down his head with shame, and marks of sorrow appeared upon his face. Thereupon, for his host's sake, the Khán drank the spirit to the dregs, to the great joy of Kásim Khán. Festivities [suhbat] then began, and during twenty days they continued to indulge together in quaffing cups of the spirit kimiz. The summer was just drawing to a close, and the Kazák set out, by Kázim Khán's orders, for winter quarters. Kásim Khán said: “To go and attack the Shaibáni, at this time, would involve great difficulties. Men of the desert do not think of winter at this season [without orders]. It is impossible. An expedition is not to be thought of at this time.” He then dismissed his army;^277a and with the utmost courtesy and regard, he bade the Khán farewell. He himself returned to his capital, while the Khán, much pleased with Kásim Khán, returned to Andiján. It was then autumn [tirmáh]. A learned man, to commemorate these events, discovered the chronogram: Ashti-i-Kazák, or “Peace with the Kazák” [919 A.H.]

AT the time of Sháh Ismail's victory over Sháhi Beg Khán, and the arrival of the Emperor in Samarkand, to lend his aid to the former, Hazrat Mauláná had left Samarkand and come to Andiján, as has been mentioned above. At the period of which I am now speaking, Hazrat Mauláná was living in the province of Farghána, and all the Amirs, of every degree, used to wait upon him, and profit by the blessing of his converse. I also took upon myself the duty of waiting on him frequently, and he continued to shower upon me the same kindly favours as he had done when I was a child in Uratippa (at the time of the calamities in Bokhárá); and by the blessing of which favours, I was rescued from that terrible abyss, all of which has been already explained.

Hazrat Mauláná performed miracles and wonders. Among others was the following: One of my father's retainers, Sayyidim Kukildásh, who was a disciple of Hazrat Mauláná, was one day waiting on the latter. Hazrat Mauláná, seeing that he looked sad, questioned him [as to the cause]. Sayyidim Kukildásh replied: “A certain person” (meaning me) “has come from Hisár in the hopes of obtaining the Khán's daughter in marriage, and being thus raised to the dignity of Kurkáni.^278a All the Amirs are now opposed to this match, and it is difficult to carry through anything that the Khán's Amirs have set their faces against. This is the reason of my sorrow and dejection.” Hazrat Mauláná then said: “I feel convinced that God has fore-ordained this union; therefore the efforts of the Amirs can avail nothing. This marriage will certainly take place.” When Sayyidim returned, he repeated to me the words of Hazrat Mauláná, and announced the good news. It was at this time that the Khán was away among the Kazák, but a few days later he returned, and raised me to that dignity which Hazrat Mauláná had foretold. Thus, in Rajab of the year 919 I was elevated to the rank of Kurkán.

AT the beginning of this book, in enumerating the offspring of Sultán Ahmad Khán, it was mentioned that the Khán had four daughters. The third daughter, Muhibb Sultán Khánim, on the death of [her first husband] was married to his brother, Sultán Mahmud Khán, who was martyred at Akhsi by order of Sháhi Beg Khán. Muhibb Sultán Khánim then remained with Kutuk Khánim, daughter of Sultán Mahmud Khán, and who, after the devastation of Táshkand, was given to Jáni Beg Sultán, as has been mentioned. After my uncle had risen up against Jáni Beg Sultán, and driven him out of the province of Farghána, Muhibb Sultán Khánim separated from Kutuk Khánim, who was her cousin. On the Khán's return to Andiján, she rejoined him. Of all his four sisters, the Khán loved her the best, so that when she came to him, he showed her the greatest regard and affection. The occasion of my marriage was celebrated by magnificent banquets and entertainments, which were remembered long after.

That winter the Khán took up his winter-quarters at Pishkharán, a township of Akhsi. In the middle of the same season, Mir Ghuri Barlás, Governor of Akhsi, died a natural death, whereupon the Khán moved from Pishkharán to Akhsi, where he remained the rest of the winter. Early in the spring, Mir Ayub and the Moghuls who had been in Hisár, having been defeated by Ubaid Ullah Khán, as above related, came [to Farghána].^280a The Khán gave Akhsi to Mir Ayub Begjik.

Meanwhile, news was brought that the Uzbeg were approaching. The reason for their coming was that, the year before, Kásim Khán had advanced [and had again retired], but during the whole of the spring, the Uzbeg were afraid [that he might advance again]. When winter set in, they were fearful lest Sháh Ismail should come and avenge Mir Najm, [taking advantage of] the low state of the Amu. For these reasons they had, for a whole year, desisted from attacking the Shaibáni.^281a When Sháh Ismail returned to Irák, and Kásim Khán, likewise, went back to his original residence, and Bábar Pádisháh fled to Kábul, there was nothing left for the Shaibán Uzbeg to attend to, but an expedition against the Khán and Andiján. So that spring they set out in full force against Andiján. On hearing of this, the Khán left the province of Farghána [and went to Káshghar], as will be told.

FROM the time when Sháh Ismail came from Irák and killed Sháhi Beg Khán in Merv, he inspired great dread among the Sultáns on all sides. Thanks to this dread, and with a little assistance from Sháh Ismail, the Emperor was able to meet and defeat Hamza Sultán. After this, his fame spread in every direction, and following up his success, he subdued Bokhárá and Samarkand [without difficulty], as has been related. When the Emperor a second time quitted Samarkand and retired to Hisár, [he asked Sháh Ismail for help]. Sháh Ismail, thereupon, sent him 60,000 men under the command of Mir Najm. They were, however, defeated at Ghajdaván, all [the Emperor's] arms and military accoutrements being lost [while Mir Najm perished]. On this account, [the Uzbeg] feared lest Sháh Ismail should march into Mávará-un-Nahr to avenge Mir Najm. They had been expecting this event the whole year, and made no expeditions in any direction.

At that period Sháh Ismail returned to Irák, where he was attacked by the Sultán of Rum, Sultán Salim, with an army of several hundred thousand men. Sháh Ismail met him with a force of 30,000, and a bloody battle was fought, from which he escaped with only six men, all the rest of his army having been annihilated by the Rumi. Sultán Salim made no further aggressions after this, but returned to Rum, while Sháh Ismail, broken and [with his forces] dispersed, remained in Irák. A short time after this event, he went to join his colleagues Nimrud and Pharaoh, and was succeeded by his son Sháh Tahmásp. This Sháh, likewise, was on several occasions exposed to the kicks of the Rumi army; moreover, from fear of the Rumi he was not able to maintain his accursed religion, nor uphold the evil practices of his father. He continues to sit on the throne of Irák down to the present day.

THE Uzbeg Shaibán, in the beginning of the winter of the year 918, had killed Mir Najm and defeated the Turkománs and the Emperor. In the spring of the same year they desisted from further aggressions on any side, being apprehensive both of Sháh Ismail's vengeance and Kásim Khán's invasion [istilá], as has been explained. But in the winter of 919 [1513], Sháh Ismail returned to Irák to oppose Sultán Salim the Rumi, while Kásim Khán in order to look to his own kingdom, went to Ubaira-Subaira.^282a The minds of the Shaibán being now set at rest with regard to these two formidable enemies, Ubaid Ullah Khán, near the end of the winter, set out for Hisár, delivered it from the tyranny of the Moghuls, and made an end of them, as mentioned before. In the spring of 920, the Shaibán marched against Andiján. On careful consideration, the Khán realised that in disputing over Andiján with the Uzbeg, there could result nothing but the dimness of trouble and ruin upon the mirror of his fortune. For those who had power to withstand them, had moved out of the Shaibán territory, and he who had offered them the stoutest resistance, namely Bábar Pádisháh, having placed the foot of despair in the stirrup of despondence, had gone back to Kábul. He thought the wisest plan for him was to retire from the country, before the enemy arrived. So the Khán set out for Káshghar, by way of Moghulistán. [Thus] the province of Farghána was joined on to Mávará-un-Nahr [under the domination of the Uzbeg].

The dignity of Khán was,^282b according to the old custom, vested in the eldest Sultán, who was Kuchum Sultán, and the heir-apparent [Kaalfa] was Suyunjuk Sultán, who however died before Kuchum Sultán, when Jáni Beg Sultán became the heir-apparent. He followed Suyunjuk Sultán, and Kuchum soon after journeyed along the same road. The Khánship now devolved upon Abu Said, son of Kuchum Khán, and on his leaving the throne of the Khánate vacant, Ubaid Ullah Khán sat in his place. From the year 911 down to the end of the reign of the last-mentioned Khán [Abu Said], he had, in reality, conducted the entire affairs of the State; and if he had chosen to assume the title of Khán, no one could rightfully have opposed him. Nevertheless [the Uzbeg] adhered to the old rule and conferred the Khánship upon the most advanced in years. After Abu Said, there remained no one older than [Ubaid Ullah] himself, and he therefore ascended the throne of the Kháns, and continued to perfume the world with the sweet breezes of justice and the scent of right-dealing, until the year 946,^283a when he bade this transitory earth adieu, and his pure soul passed to the regions of the blessed.

I have neither seen nor heard speak of such an excellent ruler as he, during the past hundred years. In the first place, he was a true Musulmán, religiously inclined, pious and abstinent; he also regulated all the affairs of religion, of the state, of the army, and of his subjects, in conformity with the ordinances of the Holy Law; never deviating from it one hair's-breadth. He was pre-eminent for his valour and for his generosity. He wrote seven different styles of handwriting, but best of all he wrote the Naskhi. He made several copies of the Korán and sent them to the two holy cities [Mekka and Medina]. He also wrote Naskh Táalik well. He possessed the diváns of the various Turki, Arabic and Persian poets. He was versed in the science of music, and several of his compositions are still sung by musicians. In short, he was a king endowed with every excellence, and during his lifetime, his capital Bokhárá, became such a centre of the arts and sciences, that one was reminded of Herat in the days of Mirzá Sultán Husain. Although both the Emperor and the Khán died before Ubaid Ullah Khán, and the account of the end of his days should have been given after their deaths had been recorded, yet since the stories of the Emperor and the Khán occupy much space, and since Ubaid Ullah Khán has no further connection with my story, I have summarily completed my account of him here. I shall have no further occasion to refer to the Uzbeg in this history.

IN the summer of the year 920, the Uzbeg Shaibán who were in Táshkand, advanced under the command of Suyunjuk Khán, against Andiján. When the Khán learnt this, he convened a meeting of all his Amirs and councillors, and they discussed what were the wisest steps to take in the matter. They tried to foresee the final issues of things, and were plunged in the ocean of meditation. [At last] my uncle said: “The neighbouring Sultáns are not inclined to sacrifice their reputation, and have gone to look after their own affairs. Our numbers are not sufficient to compete with the Shaibáni, nor are our armaments equal to theirs. If we offer their legions fight, however zealous and loyal we may be, we shall only be as men with broken weapons, and a defeat will not mean the destruction of one particular person, but will result in constant disputes and continual fighting. If, by some strange chance, matters should turn out otherwise, they will have to make reparation for what has gone before, and all their power will be destroyed. Such an advantage we should turn to account. We shall be able to make no reparation for what has passed. Nor will any amount of binding make that breakage whole.^284a

“The province of Farghána is the territory and ancient dwelling-place of the Chaghatái. The Shaibáni have deprived them of it by force and violence. We have become the guardians of the Chaghatái country. Now that all the Sultáns, in general, and the Chaghatái Sultáns in particular, have given up the contest, it would be absurd for us to engage in this dangerous affair on their account. If you wish to be on the safe side and consider the wisest plan, then block up the path of war and follow the road of flight, before the borders of this kingdom have been darkened by the dust of the enemy's army. Let our reins be drawn towards Moghulistán, which is the old home of the Moghuls; this will tend to the consolidation of the State. And yet another fact must be taken into consideration: namely, that Mirzá Abá Bakr, in the face of [the Khán's] victorious host, is like a wounded quarry, for has he not once before fought a pitched battle, at Tutluk, and been defeated? If we enter his province, and if he keeps a brave heart, he will probably again offer battle, and fighting with him will be an easy matter in comparison with fighting the Uzbeg. In fact, there will be little to fear and much to gain. Another point that ought to count in favour of this plan is that the Mirzá is over sixty years of age, and he has reigned close on fifty years. The Almighty has, during forty years, suffered him to exercise tyranny. The time has probably now come for his day of oppression to be changed to the night of annihilation. Moreover, he has cast aside all his own Amirs, and has neglected the leaders of his army, setting up in their places a number of mean people of low birth, who, by reason of their lack of judgment and small intelligence, stand in great fear of him. Therefore, we ought to direct all our energies, devote all our strength, to the conquest of Káshghar. Haply the opener of all gates will open to us the gate of victory. Finally, Mirzá Abá Bakr's men, who were my companions in the service of my brother, when they see me in your train, will probably return to me. And they will be a substantial assistance to us in conquering Káshghar.

“Although Mirzá Abá Bakr is my own brother, (Verse) … my loyalty and devotion are to the Khán alone: and any head that will not bow to him, verily will I bring it down, though it be that of my own brother. In my devotion to the Khán, no such consideration as a tie of brotherhood shall stand in the way. In the Mirzá's downfall, I now recognise the establishment of the Khán's prosperity. If my plan is approved, let it be at once proceeded with.”

When my uncle had finished his speech, the Khán, who had been listening with evident satisfaction, began to praise and commend him, saying: “My thoughts have for a long time been occupied with such considerations; but in our discussions, all the suggestions made have been either impossible or inexpedient. I find your plan most reasonable, and preferable to any other. My opinion is the opinion of Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá. If any one has anything further to say on the matter, let him speak.” All the Amirs were unanimous in their agreement, and began to approve my uncle's suggestion.

Being all of one mind, the Khán, in the month of Rabi-ul-avval, of the aforesaid year,^285a left Farghána before Suyunjuk Khán had entered it, and marched towards Káshghar by way of Moghulistán. At this time Mirzá Abá Bakr executed a very surprising work, the truth of which is attested by all who were in Káshghar at the time, and I myself have seen and measured the building …^285b Now, he had destroyed the ancient citadel of Káshghar a long time before, as well as its suburbs, and had carried the inhabitants off to Yarkand, while he had turned several inhabited places into cultivated fields. When he heard of the Khán's approach, he commanded a fort to be built on the banks of the River Tuman. I have taken the dimensions of that fort several times. It may include about fifty jarib, more or less, and its height in some places is twenty matá gaz.^286a The circumference of the towers at each angle is more than thirty gaz. On the ramparts, in most places, four horsemen can ride abreast. This huge fort was constructed in seven days, which is, of course, a most extraordinary feat, and confirms what has been said above, of Mirzá Abá Bakr's power and activity. It is now necessary to give some account of Káshghar.

KÁSHGHAR is an old and famous town.^286b In former times the Sultáns of Káshghar were of the family of Afrásiáb the Turk, whom the Moghuls call Bughá Khán. His genealogy is as follows: Afrásiáb, son of Pish, son of Dád Nashin, son of Tur, son of Afaridun. It is thus given in the Tárikh-i-Guzida, which has copied from the Mujma-ut-Tavárikh^286c of Khwája Rashid-ud-Din Fasl Ullah. In some other histories the descent is traced yet further. But God alone knows the truth.

Among the Sultáns of Káshghar was a certain Sátuk Bughrá Khán, who was converted to Islám in his early years. During his occupation of the throne, he brought over the whole country of Káshghar to the true faith. After his death, several of his descendants ruled in Káshghar, and even in Mávará-un-Nahr, until the conquest of Chingiz Khán.

[Tái Yáng Khán fled from Chingiz Khán. Kushluk, son of Tái Yáng Khán] took Káshghar from the vassals of the Gur Khán of Kara Khitái, who had himself taken it from the vassals of the descendants of Afrásiáb. At that time Sultán Osmán, of that family, was ruling in Samarkand and in the greater part of Mávará-un-Nahr. What passed between him and Khwárizm Sháh is to be found in every history.^287a

The rebellion of Kushluk and the conquest of Káshghar by the Moghuls, I have copied from the Jahán-Kushái, as it stands [there].

WHEN Chingiz Khán carried his victorious arms into the countries of the East, Kushluk, son of Tái Yáng Khán, fled by way of Bish Báligh, to the country of the Gur Khán. He wandered about among the hills, in great want, while those tribes who had accompanied him became scattered. Some people say that he was captured by a body of the Gur Khán's soldiers, who led him before their chief; another story is that he went and presented himself of his own accord. He at any rate remained some little time at the court of the Gur Khán. Sultán Muhammad Khwárizm Sháh rose in revolt against the Gur Khán, while other Amirs in the eastern quarter, rebelled also, and put themselves under the protection of the Emperor of the world, Chingiz Khán, by whose favour they obtained immunity from the evil acts of the Gur Khán. Kushluk then said to the Gur Khán: “My tribes are very numerous, and are scattered over all the territory of Imal, Kiyák,^288a and Bish Báligh, where they meet with opposition from every one. If you will allow me, I will cause them to assemble and with their assistance [I will bring the rebels again under your authority]. Thus will I help the Gur Khán; and I will not in any way deviate from his commands.” With such flattery and deceit did he throw the Gur Khán into the well of pride. Then having loaded him with gifts, he begged that the title of “Kushluk Khán” might be bestowed on him. The Gur Khán accepted the gifts and gave him the title he desired, whereupon, quick as an arrow shot from a bow, Kushluk left the territory of the Gur Khán and came to the country of Imal and Kiyák. When the report of the invasion of Kushluk got abroad, Tuktái, who was one of the Makrit Amirs, had fled and joined Kushluk. This was before the rumours of the conquests of the Emperor of the world, Chingiz Khán, had been spread abroad. And wherever they went, they were joined by bands of men, with whom they conducted forays— plundering and burning as they came and went.

When they heard of the successes of Muhammad Khwárizm Sháh, they sent numerous ambassadors to persuade him to attack the Gur Khán from the west. Kushluk, at the same time, was to attack him from the east, so as to bring him out of the centre [of his dominions]. [The conditions were that] if Sultán Muhammad Khwárizm Sháh should be the first to gain a victory, Almáligh, Khotan and Káshghar, which were in Kushluk's kingdom, should be ceded to him; but if, on the other hand, Kushluk should have the first success, Kará Khitái as far as Finákand should be delivered over to him. These conditions having been agreed upon, a treaty was concluded between them. (Finákand means Shahrukhia.)^289a Thus the two armies set out for Kará Khitái from opposite directions. Kushluk arrived before Sultán Muhammad Khwárizm Sháh [and defeated the Gur Khán], since the army of this Sultán was more distant. Then, having plundered his treasury, which was at Uzkand, he proceeded to Balásákun, where the Gur Khán himself was, and a pitched battle was fought at Jinuj,^289b in which Kushluk was, however, defeated, and most of his men being worn out [kufta] he retired and set about reorganising his army. He heard that the Gur Khán had returned from his war with Sultán Muhammad Khwárizm Sháh, and had been ill-treating the people of the province; also that the army had returned to its own country. Then, like lightning from a cloud, he rushed out to meet him, and having seized his followers, brought his kingdom and his army under his own power; he then demanded one of his daughters in marriage. Now the tribe of Náimán were mostly Christians [Tarsá],^290a and when he took that daughter in marriage, he made her abandon Christianity and become an idol worshipper.

After Kushluk had firmly established himself on the throne of Kará Khitái, he fought several battles with him [the Gur Khán?] at Jám Báligh,^291a and finally he surprised the Gur Khán on his hunting grounds, when having captured him, he put him to death.

The chief men of Káshghar and Khotan had also become hostile. The Gur Khán had imprisoned the son of the Khán of Káshghar. [Kushluk] now set him at liberty and sent him back to Káshghar. But the Amirs declined him, and before he had placed his foot within the city, they put him to death between the gates. At the time when the corn was ripe, Kushluk sent his army to eat or burn it. When the inhabitants had been deprived of three or four quarters of their income [dakhl] and corn, a famine broke out. The people of Káshghar suffered great distress, and had therefore to submit. After that, Kushluk marched away with his army. And his soldiers used to lodge in the houses of the people of Káshghar and mix with their families, so that [the Káshghari] had no homes left. [His troops] practised every form of violence and wickedness. They did everything to encourage idolatry, and no one was able to prevent them. They next went to Khotan, which they captured, and compelled all the inhabitants of the surrounding districts to abandon the religion of Muhammad, giving them the choice of becoming either Christians or idolaters. [Arabic quotation from Korán …] Verily God is forgiving and merciful. Having adopted the garments of sin, the cry of the Muazzin and the confession of the Unity of the God of Believers was no longer heard. The mosques were closed and the schools abandoned. One day they conducted the Imáms of Khotan out into the plains and began to argue with them. Among their number was Imám Alá-ud-Din of Khotan. He was asked questions and gave answers, and at length they hanged him up over the door of a college. Of this matter I shall speak presently. After this, the faith of Islám having lost all its splendour, the darkness of evil spread over all the servants of God, and they raised their supplications to heaven. [Five couplets in Arabic …] The arrow of their entreaties reached the target, and God heard and answered them.

When Kushluk was setting out to attack the kingdoms of Chingiz Khán, the latter sent a body of Nuin^292a to check Kushluk's evil progress. He [Kushluk] was, at that time, in Káshghar. The chief men of Káshghar related that when [the Nuin] arrived, and before they had drawn up in line, Kushluk turned his back and fled, while the regiments that arrived one after the other, of the Moghuls [az Moghulán], demanded nothing of them but news of Kushluk. They sanctioned the “call to prayer” [Takbir] and the prayers [Uzán]; and they issued a proclamation in the town, that every one might practise his own religion. The advent of those people was held to be an act of mercy and bounty from the Almighty. When Kushluk fled, every one who lived in a Musulmán town or house, suddenly disappeared, like quicksilver; and the Moghul army went in pursuit of Kushluk. Wherever he halted, they came up behind him and drove him on, like a mad dog, until they reached the frontier of Badakhshán, which is called Darázukhán.

When he arrived at Sarigh Chupán, he missed the road, and entered a valley that had no egress. There happened to be a party of Badakhsháni hunters in those hills, and when they saw [the fugitive party] they went towards them, while the Moghuls advanced from the other side. The valley being rough, the Moghuls found walking difficult, and came to an agreement with the hunters, saying: “This band, namely Kushluk and his followers, have escaped from us; if you will capture them and give them over to us, we will do them no harm.” So they went and surrounded [Kushluk] and his party, and having bound him, delivered him up to the Moghuls, who cut off his head and carried it away with them. The Badakhsháni, having found endless booty and precious stones, returned.

How clear it is that no one can ever be victorious who opposes the religion of Ahmad and the Holy Law of Muhammad; while he who promotes it becomes more successful day by day!

WHEN Kushluk conquered Káshghar and Khotan, he changed from the religion of Jesus to the practice of idolatry, and the rest of the people he caused to abandon Hanifism and become fire worshippers. He changed the lights of the true path into the darkness of unbelief, and the service of the all merciful into the serfdom of Satan…^293a

Thus far, I have copied from the Tárikh-i-Jahán-Kushái.

After Chingiz Khán had subjugated the whole of Káshghar, he went and set his mind at rest with regard to the affairs of Irán and Turán—nay, rather of the whole world.^293b He then returned to his capital and divided all his kingdoms among his four sons. We learn from the Mujma-ut-Tavárikh of Rashidi and from the Guzida (the former entering into detail, the latter giving it in brief), that the whole of the Dasht-i-Khizr and [Dasht-i]-Kipchák, whose boundaries are Rum, the ocean [Muhit] Mávará-un-Nahr, and Moghulistán, was given to his eldest son, Juji Khán. Moghulistán, Kará Khitái,^293c Turkistán and Mávará-un-Nahr to Chaghatái Khán. To Tuli he gave the whole of Khitái, while his original seat of government, that is to say Karákorám and the Kálmák [country] he entrusted to Uktái. In the same manner he distributed his army and his Amirs; and in that division, the Dughlát fell to the lot of Chaghatái, who entrusted to them Mangalái Suyah, which means “facing the sun” [Aftáb rui].^294a This country is bounded by Shásh, Chálish, Issigh Kul and Sárigh Uighur; and on the confines of these four limiting provinces are situated Káshghar and Khotan. The particular Dughlát who was established in this kingdom, was Amir Bábdághán,^294b in whose family it remained, from father to son, until the time of Mirzá Abá Bakr. The Jám-i-Giti Numái^294c says that Káshghar is the most important town of the Turks, and goes on to describe several objects in it, of which now no trace remains. Among other things it says is, that people used to carry clothing of ermine [Kakum] and squirrel [Sinjáb] from Káshghar to all parts. But nowadays there are no such [animals] to be found there.

Káshghar is bounded on the north by the mountains of Moghul-istán, which stretch from west to the east, and from them rivers flow towards the south. Those hills extend from Shásh, on one side, to beyond Turfán [on the other], their extremities reaching into the land of the Kálmák, which quarter none but the Kálmák themselves have seen, or know anything about. I have questioned some of those who have seen something of that country, but I can recall nothing of what they told me, which would be worthy of mention in this book. Moghulistán will [afterwards] he described shortly. From Shásh to Turfán is three months' journey. On the west side of Káshghar is another long mountain range, of which the mountains of Moghulistán are an off-shoot [munshaib]. This range runs from north to south. I travelled on those mountains for six months without coming to their extremity. They also shall be presently described, in the account of Tibet. From these mountains, rivers run from west to east, and to these rivers Káshghar owes its fertility [ábádáni]. The whole of the countries of Khotan, Yárkand and Káshghar lie at the base of these mountains. To the east and south of Káshghar and Khotan are deserts, which consist of nothing but heaps of shifting sands, impenetrable jungles, waste lands and salt-deserts. In ancient times there were large towns in these [wastes], and the names of two of them have been preserved, namely Lob and Katak; but of the rest no name or trace remains: all are buried under the sand. Hunters, who go there after wild camels, relate that sometimes the foundations of cities are visible, and that they have recognised noble buildings such as castles, minarets, mosques and colleges, but that when they returned a short time afterwards, no trace of these was to be found; for the sand had again overwhelmed them. On such a scale were these cities of which, nowadays, neither name nor vestige remains! In a word, the habitable districts of Káshghar and Khotan lie along the western skirts of these mountains. On the frontier of Káshghar is the district of Artuj;^295a from there to the confines of Khotan, at Kariyá and Jariyá,^295b is one month's journey. But as for the breadth of fertility of the cultivated region (from the foot of the western range to the eastward) by travelling quickly one can leave all cultivation behind in a day or two. On the banks of every stream that comes down from that range, corn is sown and the land is cultivated.

The first of these is the River Timan,^295c which comes from a mountain standing between Káshghar and Farghána. This river flows between the ancient citadel of Káshghar, which Mirzá Abá Bakr destroyed, and the new one which he built, on the banks of this river, as has been related. Part of Káshghar is fertilised by this same river. The second river is the Kará Tázghun. In the dialect of Káshghar, Tázghun means a river.^295d It flows about three farsákhs to the south of the above mentioned fort. The greater part of the province of Káshghar is watered by it. At a distance of three farsákhs from it, is a third river called Kusán Tázghun, on the banks of which is the town of Yángi-Hisár, and its dependent districts. The town is supplied with water by this river. The distance from Káshghar to Yángi-Hisár is six statute [shari] farsákhs. At about six farsákhs from Yángi-Hisár is an insignificant hamlet called Kará Chanák,^296a in front of which flows another stream called Shahnáz, which waters several [other] places. The valley of the Shahnáz lies in the western range, and the [high] road from Káshghar to Badakhshán runs through this valley. On the road from Kará Chanák to Kilpin Rabát, is a resting place [manzil] for those coming and going [on the road]; the distance between Kilpin Rabát and Kará Chanák is five statute farsákhs. Further on is another halting place—a monastery [langar]—which is called Kush Gumbaz, an excellent stage [manzil] watered by the Shahnáz. It has both cultivated grounds and gardens [bághát] which all form a part of the foundation [vakf] of this “langar.” Travellers enjoy the advantages which the “langar” offers. The next stage is a village called Kizil. The water there is brackish, and nobody stops there who is not obliged to. It is considered the halfway stage between Yángi-Hisár and Yárkand. It is about ten farsákhs from Kizil to Kuk Rabát, and from Kuk Rabát to the edge of the district of Yárkand, which is called Rabátchi, is by measurement seven statute farsákhs.^296b Between Rabátchi and Kará Chanák there is but little inhabited country, except for the stages that have been mentioned.

Yárkand was formerly a very important city. The old town was dug out by Mirzá Abá Bakr; it was among the excavations [kázikha] which we have spoken about, and much treasure was found [in it]. It is not known whether the old town was called Yárkand, or whether it had another name. In the days of my ancestors, Yárkand was a companion city to Yángi-Hisár. Mirzá Abá Bakr made Yárkand his capital. He introduced streams [into the town] and laid out gardens; and it is generally reported that these numbered 12,000, most of which were in the city and its environs. But I cannot imagine that this figure is correct. Mirzá Abá Bakr built a citadel which, in most places, is thirty statute gaz in height. The inside of the citadel is roughly about a hundred chub, and in it has been built a very high fort [ark]. The citadel has six gateways, which are devised for great strength. The gates themselves are placed about a hundred gaz within [the walls] and on either side are two towers near together, so that should any one wish to enter either of the gates, he must [first] pass between these two towers. If an enemy attack the interior, he is assailed with arrows and stones from front and rear, as well as from right and left. This system is to be met with in very few forts. In the fort [ark] of this citadel, magnificent buildings have been constructed; but to describe them would be tedious. In the suburbs are about ten gardens, in which are erected lofty edifices, containing about a hundred rooms each. All these rooms are fitted with shelves and recesses in the wall [ták and tákcha bandi], they have ceilings of plasterwork, and dados of glazed tiles [káshi] and frescoes. Along the public roads are avenues of white poplar [safidár], so that one may walk for a statutory [farsákh] and a half on every side of the city, under the shade of these trees. Streams run by most of the avenues.

The water of Yárkand is the best in the world. Every praise which doctors have bestowed upon any water is true of this.^297a It comes down from the mountains of Tibet (a month's journey distant), which are covered with snow and ice; it flows swiftly over a stony and sandy soil from south to north, and when it reaches Sárigh-Kul, which forms the extremity of the hilly country of Káshghar, it rushes on, with like rapidity, from rock to rock, leaping and tossing, for seven days [journey] in an easterly direction, until it arrives at the level ground. Here it continues its rapid course over a stony bed for two days more, and when it reaches the bed [majari] of the river of Yárkand, in which there are few stones, the current in some degree abates its speed. A curious fact concerning this stream is, that in the early part of the spring it becomes so small that one might almost cross it, in some places, by stepping from stone to stone. In the season of Leo, [Asad] it swells so much that it becomes, in places, nearly a statutory mile [mil]^297b in breadth, [while its depth is then nowhere less than four gaz], and for a distance of one karuh^297c it is no less than ten gaz in depth. Jade [Yashb]^298a is found in this stream. Most of the country and districts of Yárkand are irrigated by it. At a distance of about seven farsákhs, flows another stream called Tiz-Ab,^298b which waters the rest of the country. For about three days' journey, at a medium pace, from Yárkand [in the direction of Khotan] are well populated towns and villages; the farthest of these is called Láhuk.^298c From this place to Khotan is ten days' slow marching, during which time, excepting at the halting places, one meets with no habitations [ábádáni].

In Khotan there are two rivers, called Kará Kásh and Urung Kásh,^298d in both of which jade is met with, and it is found nowhere else in the world. The waters of these two rivers are preferred [by some] to that of Yárkand, but personally, I could never find the superiority in them. Khotan is amongst the most famous towns in the world, but at the present time its jade is the only thing that remains worth writing about. One curious circumstance concerning Khotan, is that magpies^298e are never seen there; or if, at any time, one happens to appear, it is taken as a bad omen, and the people band together and drive it away.

The Imám Alá-ud-Din Muhammad of Khotan is mentioned in all histories, but no one in Khotan knows which is his tomb, nor even recalls his name. There are many other tombs there, about which nothing is known. According to tradition (the truth of which is contradicted by books on history) there lie buried there, among others, many martyrs, such as Imám Zabiha [or Zabija], Jafar Tayyár, and Imám Jafar Sádik, and several others of the Companions [of the Prophet]. But the falsehood of these traditions is evident. It is possible that some of the followers of these companions [tabi'in] bearing their names, came here and suffered martyrdom, for before the conversion of Káshghar to Islám, some of the followers of the companions came to Káshghar and conducted a holy war [ghazát] there [and at Khotan]. But the strange thing there is that the martyrs, whom they have deposited in the tombs, are sometimes exposed to view, from the sand being blown away by the wind, and no change is noticeable in them; they are recognisable, and their wounds—nay more, the very blood which has issued from the wounds, all dried up, is still visible. Every one who makes the circuit [tawáf]^299a of these graves, witnesses these things.

The tombs of Yárkand, however, belong to no one who is mentioned in histories or other books. But the people of Yárkand believe that there lie [buried there] the Seven Muhammadáns. Their story, as related by the mujávir,^299b is not worth recording here, but Mauláná Khwája Ahmad, who was a disciple of Házrat Ishán, and a good and industrious old man (of whom, God willing, I shall speak in the First Part), has told me that the Seven Muhammadáns were grandees [utád]; but I do not remember having read of them in any history. Another tomb is that of Davá Khán Pádisháh; but concerning him I could learn nothing from the mujávir. Suddenly Házrat Shaháb-ud-Din Khwája Khávand Mahmud passed in front of the tomb, and turning to me said: “This man possesses a wonderfully strong power of attraction [jazaba], and I never pass by here without being strongly drawn towards [his tomb].” The edifice is a lofty one and is covered outside with plaster, upon which are paintings and inscriptions. In spite of having examined them carefully, my efforts did not enable me to read them, for most of them were in Kufic character, but not in the Kufic which is employed nowadays. A few are in Suls^299c writing, but it is not inscribed in such a manner as to be easily read. Near this, is a dome, upon the archway of which is some Turki writing which is mostly destroyed. It is there written: “In the year 656 …,” but the rest is obliterated and cannot be read. This date corresponds very nearly with the date of Davá Khán, better known as Davá Sahan,^299d and I am convinced that this is his tomb. I hold the proof to be conclusive for several reasons. Firstly, at that date there was no other Davá Khán reigning; and this name of Davá Khán does not indicate, in the least, that he was a Shaikh or an Imám; nor does the fact of such a magnificent tomb having been raised over him. Again the father of Davá Khán, Barák Khán, became a Musulmán in Bokhárá, received the title of Ghay-yás-ud-Din, and was succeeded on the throne by his son Davá Khán.^299e From this it is quite evident that Davá Khán was a Musulmán. He is very much lauded in histories, and it is not surprising that God should have raised him to such high rank, considering his “Islám,” and his noble qualities. After his death, any man who believed this to be his tomb, did it reverence, and as time went on [its identity] became an established fact; but God alone knows the truth.

If, as is indeed the case, this is the tomb of the famous Davá Khán, his story is told in histories. In the Prolegomena to the Zafar-Náma, Sharaf-ud-Din Ali Yazdi says: “Davá Khán was the son of Barák Khán, son of Kará Isu, son of Bámnagái, son of Chaghatái, son of Chingiz Khán. He was a powerful and worthy monarch. [Couplet…] Mamálikiz Nuyán, son of Amir Áihal, son of Nisun, was of the race of Karáchár Nuyán Barlás. According to the ancient charter [Ahd-Náma] Davá Khán was made king, and the duties and privileges of his forefathers devolved upon him. He ruled for thirty years, and through the excellent management of Altigiz Nuyán, the Chaghatái Ulus attained great prosperity. [Couplet…] Finally having drawn a few breaths he perished.” Thus far from the Zafar-Náma.

Within the citadel of Yárkand and near to the fort [ark] is a tomb called Abjáji Atá, in which is the bone of a man's thigh, in two pieces. I have always noticed this with great wonder. I once pointed it out to Khidmat Mauláná Sháh Sayyid Ashik, one of the most profoundly learned and pious Ulama in Mávará-un-Nahr, who expressed great astonishment, and said: “Let us take the measurement.” He ordered to be brought the corresponding thigh-bone of a man of the present time; he broke off clods of earth of the weight of that bone and tied them up in handkerchiefs, till they were exactly the weight of the bone which was in two pieces. He afterwards counted the clods and found there were sixty. Then the Mauláná said: “The owner of this bone must have been sixty times the size of men of our time.” This is indeed a most wonderful thing!

As for the tombs of Káshghar, the first is that of Sátuk Bughrá Khán, of the race of Afrásiáb, and ancestor of Yusuf Kadr Khán and Sultán Ilak Mázi. He was the first Turk to become a Musul-mán, and he is related to have said: “Sátuk was the first of the Turks to become a Musulmán.”^300a I have heard from darvishes that to visit his tomb is a source of great spiritual advantage. There are many other tombs, excellent accounts of which are to be found in books. Among them are those of Husain Fasl Khwája, Kutb-i-Alam, Shaikh Habib, Fakih ibn Bakr and others. The strangest is the enclosure [hazira] of Husain Fasl Khwája, which they call the “Enclosure of the Muftis,” for a hole has been made in his grave opposite to where his face is. No change has taken place: his beard is [still] perfectly straight, and he is recognisable. I have heard the Ulama of Káshghar say that whenever they had a difficult question to decide, they would write a copy of it and place it in the tomb; on the morrow, when they came, they found the answer written down. And this has been tried and tested. (The responsibility be upon their shoulders.)

All the people of Khotan and Káshghar are divided up into four classes. One is called Tumán, which means peasantry: they are dependent upon the Khán, and pay their taxes to him yearly. Another class is called Kuchin, which means soldiery, who are all dependent upon my relations.^301a A third is called Imák [or Aimak], all of whom receive a fixed revenue [mukátáa] of grain, cloth and the like. These people are also dependent upon my relations. The fourth class are the controllers of legal jurisdiction, and the custodians of religious houses and pious foundations; most of these are of my family. They need not, however, be specified in this place.

There are in that country one or two things quite peculiar to it. Firstly, the Jade-stone, which is found in the rivers of Yárkand and Khotan, and of which not a trace is to be found in any other part of the world.^301b Secondly, the wild camel, which if taken in such a way that it receives no injury, can be placed in a line [of camels], and will follow exactly like a domestic camel. This animal is found in the deserts to the south and east of Khotan.^301c Thirdly, in the hills of that country are wild oxen [kutás] of extreme size and nobility; they are the most ferocious of savage beasts When one of them attacks a human being, its butting with the horns, its kick, and its lick are all equally fatal. When on my journey from Tibet to Badakhsnán (which journey I will speak of presently) we were a party of twenty-one persons, and on the road a kutás was killed. It was only with the utmost trouble and difficulty that four men were able to extract the beast's stomach. One man could not lift one of its shoulder blades. After the twenty-one persons had each carried away as much as he was able for food, two-thirds were still left.^302a

Again, most of the fruits of that country are very plentiful. Among others the pears are especially good, and I never saw their equal anywhere else; they are, in fact, quite incomparable. Its roses and rose-water are also excellent, and almost as good as those of Herat. Moreover, its fruits have an advantage over the fruits of other countries, in that they are less unwholesome. The cold in winter is very severe, and the heat in summer is moderate; but the climate is very healthy. The fruits, which generally are injurious when taken at breakfast or after any food, are there, on account of the excellence of the climate, followed by no evil consequences and do no harm. During the autumn [tirmáh] it is not the custom to sell fruit in the provinces of Káshghar and Khotan, nor is it usual to hinder any one from plucking it. Nay more, it is planted along the roadsides, so that any one who wishes to do so, may take of it.

But [Káshghar] has also many defects. For example, although the climate is very healthy, there are continual storms of dust and sand, and violent winds charged with black dust. Although Hindustán is notorious for this phenomenon [sifat], yet in Káshghar it is still more prevalent.^303a The cultivation of the ground is very laborious and yields but little profit. In Káshghar it is impossible to support an army upon the produce of the country. Compared with the Dasht-i-Kipchák, the Kálmák country and Moghulistán, it has the semblance of a town, but with regard to productiveness and its capacity to support an army, it cannot be compared to those steppes. The inhabitants of towns who go there regard Káshghar as a wild country [rustá], while the people of the steppes consider it a refined city. It is a sort of Purgatory between the Paradise of Towns and the Hell of Deserts. “Ask those from Hell of Purgatory, and they will call it Paradise.”^303b In a word, it is free from the discord of men and the trampling of hoofs, and it is a safe retreat for the contented and the rich. Great blessings accrue to the pious, now, from the blessed saints who lived there in time past. From two pious persons, out of many I have seen, I have heard that when people migrate from that country to some other, they cannot find the same peace of mind, and they remember Káshghar [with regret]. This is the highest praise.

I HAD brought the Khán's history down to the point where he, having left the province of Farghána, set out for Káshghar by way of Moghulistán. As soon as Mirzá Abá Bakr heard of this, he built the citadel of Káshghar in seven days, and placed in it one thousand horse and foot, with provisions for several years, giving his own son Yusfán^304a command over them. Then, having settled whatever business he had there as best he could, he started for Yángi-Hisár, which he also supplied with provisions, arms, and siege implements, and finally went on to Yárkand.

In the meanwhile the Khán reached Atu Bum Báshi,^304b which is one of the frontiers of Moghulistán on the side of Káshghar. Leaving his family and baggage there, to follow slowly after, he marched forward with an unencumbered army. On the first night he encamped at a place called Mirzá Turki; on the second day he halted at Tushku, arriving at Artuj on the third day, and there he performed the circuit [tawáf] of the shrine of Shaikh Habib, an eminent Shaikh. The miracle is recorded of him that in building the monastery, one of the beams [chub] was found too short, and that he pulled it, and extended it [to the required length]. This beam [the Khán] saw, and having repeated verses from the Korán and uttered prayers, he begged that he might profit by the spirit of the Shaikh.

On the following day, when the troops of the east put to rout the army of the west, and in one moment seized the rays of the lights of the world [when the sun rose, etc… Two couplets], they set out from Artuj and came to Uch Barkhán, a village near which the river Yutun Báshi [or Tuyun B.], which flows down from the valley of Kálik Kiyá [or Kabá], must be crossed by travellers. There is some rising ground above it, from the top of which Káshghar, which is exactly three statute [farsákhs] distant, is visible. On this eminence Mirzá Abá Bakr constructed a wall with battlements, reaching from the highest point of the hill down to the ravine which overhangs the river, and there he placed a gate. Implicit orders were issued that the commanders [taváji] should take up their stand in that narrow passage [tangi] and count the army. The troops passed through the defile [tangi] regiment by regiment, and as they passed, the taváji counted them and the scribes [bakhshi] wrote down the numbers. Besides those who stayed behind with the women and children and the baggage, and those who were strong enough to guard the roads, there were inscribed four thousand seven hundred and odd.

Though the number is small, it was composed entirely of famous generals [sarvar], mighty Amirs, wise councillors and brave warriors, who were ripe in experience and well tried in adversity. From the date of the devastation of Táshkand in 908, corresponding to the year of the Hog [of the Moghul cycle], to the present date 920, corresponding [again] to the year of the Hog— that is for twelve years—they had been persecuted by evil fortune, and had been continually engaged in warfare and contests and disputes. Of the four [great] tribes, three—namely the Uzbeg, the Chaghatái, and the Moghuls—had always been at variance, [Couplet …] as has been explained above. During those twelve years, these people had been subject to many vicissitudes and changes of fortune, and had endured innumerable reverses and trials, so that each one of them had gained great experience, and was acquainted with all the details of the art of war, such as marches and countermarches and forced marches. Nor was this knowledge peculiar to the Amirs—nay, rather, in every tribe of the Moghuls many men were to be found in whose judgment and advice every one placed reliance.

The following is a short account of some of those who passed in review that day, as well as I can call them to memory. First of all the family of Dughlát, of whom the leader—the most noble and the eldest—was my uncle, Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá. He was at that time about forty-one years of age. He was the prop and stay and overseer of the whole of that army. His wisdom and foresight were well known, and he was famed for perception and penetration. His story, and all that he did, has been already related. He was conspicuous among his contemporaries, and without an equal among the tribesmen. According to the reckoning then drawn up, he had one hundred and eighty men in his following. Next [in standing] was Kará Kulák Mirzá, who has been mentioned above, in connection with the Khán's adventures in Moghulistán. During those events, this Kará Kulák Mirzá held, at one time, the dignity of Amir, and at another, fell into the most abject poverty, until at last, leaving the Khán, he went to Andiján and there managed to live with the Uzbeg, in some way or another, exchanging the bitterness of poverty for the sweets of commerce. At the time the Khán captured Andiján, he again entered his service. In a word, this Kará Kulák Mirzá was renowned both for his courage and sound judgment, and great reliance was placed in him. In the enumeration [of the army], one hundred followers were entered in his name. [Another was] his brother, Sháh Nazar Mirzá, who had precedence over his elder brother in all matters. His retainers were entered as sixty in number. Another was Mirzá Ali Taghái; the wiles this man could devise after a moment's reflection, could not have been invented by a cunning Delilah after years of deep thought. The hump-backed old woman [who personifies] deception used to come to learn wiles and tricks from him, and to serve him in order to learn how to stir up sedition. This will be explained, in the account of the end of the Khán's days. Ninety men were entered in the list under his name. Another was his brother, Kutluk Mirák Mirzá, of whom everyone expected great achievements. Seventy persons came under his name. Another was Bahrika Mirzá, who was of the military caste [ahl-i-kushun], and he had forty followers.

Another was the compiler of these pages and the chronicler of this history, your humble servant. The dawn of childhood had not yet changed to the morning of youth, nor was my intelligence yet fully developed. I was but fifteen years of age. Although the Khán had honoured me with the title of Kurkán, yet on account of my youth, and immaturity, both physical and mental, I was not able to participate fully in that dignity. I however carried out as much as was possible. The retainers and followers of my father, as many as had remained behind, supported and aided me nobly in every way, so that in spite of the general scarcity of attendants upon the Moghuls, one hundred and twenty persons were entered in my name.

There were many nobles [mirzádas] of the Dughlát family, who were entered as single individuals, since by reason of their poverty they had no retinue. All those who were Amirs, and had a following and attendants, were mentioned [in the lists].

In this way, I propose to speak of all the families of the Moghul Amirs.

Another family [tabaka] was that of the Dukhtui, whose chief was Amir Dáim Ali. At that time his brothers, Ahmad Ali and Mahmud Kuli, had not yet come. This Amir Dáim Ali was one of the least worthy of the great Amirs. He will be frequently mentioned hereafter in this book. There was a serious dispute between him and [the family of] Barlás as to precedence, which was at that time still undecided. But Amir Dáim Ali took precedence whenever he could, till on the first occasion of the meeting with Mansur Khán, which shall be spoken of. The question was referred to Amir Jabár Birdi, who was a Dughlát, and of whom I have spoken above, and he decided that the Dukhtui should have precedence. After that the right of Amir Dáim Ali over the Barlás was established.

I do not recollect precisely, but I think there were more than two hundred persons recorded in the list of this family.

Another family was the Barlás, whose leader was Ali Mirák Mirzá, the maternal uncle of my paternal uncle. He had both sons and brothers. One of his sons, named Muhammad, will be mentioned later.

There were many of the Moghul Amirs and notables who were very aged, older indeed than any one else at that time in the Moghul Ulus; upon all matters such as the Tura and the Tuzuk they were consulted, and reliance was placed in their discretion and judgment in all important consultations and councils. Of these old men was Ali Mirák Mirzá; among others were Káká Beg, Kará Básh Mirzá, Sayyid Ali Ághá, Alláh Kuli Kukildásh, and Abdul Aziz Mirzá. Among this group of aged men too, was Ali Mirák Mirzá himself. Like the rest of the old men, he was much enfeebled by age, both physically and mentally, but his courage was still firm. In spite of his having both brothers and sons, he conducted all his own affairs, civil as well as military. In the list, the number of his retainers is nearly as great as those of Mir Dáim Ali.

Another [of them] was Háji Mirzá, who was renowned for his valour. He had more than one hundred in his train.

Another family was that of Bárki,^307a of whom the first and eldest was Mir Káká. But his extreme old age prevented him from taking part any longer in the hardships of warfare, so he entrusted his affairs to his son Mir Kambar. Many conspicuous and able men of the Bárki family accompanied the Khán from Kunduz to Andiján, and numbers of them fell in the battles that took place in Andiján. When no more of these were left, the management of the affairs [of the family] devolved upon Mir Kambar. His brothers Maksud, Háfiz, and Tuluk, were in immediate attendance upon the Khán. The following of Mir Kambar was larger than that of Háji Mirzá; I cannot, however, recall the exact number.

Another family was that of the Urdubegi; their leader was Kará Básh Mirzá, who has been mentioned in the list of old men. His sons and brothers were men of note, such as Gadái Mirzá, Sabur Mirzá, Muhammad Háji Mirzá, and Muhammad Váli Mirzá.

Another family was that of Itárji. Their chief was Bish Ka Mirzá, who had some capable sons and also some brothers. Their retinue numbered about one hundred men.

Another family was that of Kunji, whose chief Amir at that time was Mir Jánáka. Mir Sharun, Kul Nazar Mirzá, Mir Mazid, and Mir Jaka had not yet arrived. His retinue exceeded that of Bish Ka Mirzá in numbers.

Another family was the Jarás, at the head of whom was Munka Beg, a man distinguished among his equals for his bravery. His suite numbered more than one hundred men. He had a brother named Bábá Sárik Mirzá, who was a man of a similar nature to the above-mentioned Kará Kulák Mirzá and Mirzá Ali Taghái. All that is said of them applies equally to him. His following was not less than that of Munka Beg. He had a brother named Shahbáz Mirzá, who, in the conduct of affairs, was not inferior to his brother.

Another family was the Begjik. The chief among them was Mir Ayub, whose history has been related in connection with Bábar Pádisháh and Ubaid Ullah Khán. He is one of the most distinguished of all the famous Moghul Amirs. During those twelve years of disturbances, wherever he was, he took the lead. Indeed, he was a man admirably qualified in every respect to bear the dignity of Amir. Nearly two hundred men were entered in his name. His brother Muhammad Beg was an extremely calm and polite man, of noble birth and breeding. His mother was a Sayyida of Tirmiz.

[Of the same family] was Sultán Ali Mirzá, whom I have mentioned above, in speaking of the Khán. Also Yádgár Mirzá, who, soon after this event, left the Khán's service, made the Holy Pilgrimage, and then rejoined the Khán, by whom he was highly honoured. After this he again made the Pilgrimage, and he is at the present time a recluse, having dealings with no man and disturbed by none. [Of these too] was Nazar Mirzá. Each of them had a following of one hundred men or less. Another was Mirzá Muhammad, who had exercised the authority of Amir among the Begjik and the Tumán of Mir Ayub, before the arrival of this latter. But when Mir Ayub came, being the elder brother, all the duties of Amir were passed over to him; he [Mirzá Muhammad] submitted to Mir Ayub, and in the administration of business was associated with him. His followers were better equipped than those of Amir Ayub. Another was Beg Muhammad, the same young man whose excellent qualities were alluded to in the account of the Khán's doings in Kábul. Among all the young men he had not his equal in courage. He had one hundred well armed retainers.

There were violent disputes between the families of Jarás and Begjik on the question of priority. On this account, the elder Amirs assembled and held an inquiry. It was at length ascertained that, in the time of each Khán, priority and inferiority had been decided by the favour [ináyat] of that Khán. Therefore the Khán now issued the following mandate [yárligh]: “I will not at present determine your precedence. You must decide it among yourselves. You must take it by turns, year by year, and whichever family shows the greatest valour, that one will take precedence.” They carried out the order, but the dispute exists to the present day, and has found no settlement.

All the above-mentioned men were Amirs and commanders of regiments and detachments. There was another set of men, who, although not Mirs or sons of Amirs, had yet each his own tribe and following. They had been at the head of some of the Moghul tribes during those twelve eventful years, and having directed their affairs, had thereby gained so much experience that every one placed confidence in their advice and opinions. Among them was Khwája Ali Bahádur, of whose valuable services to the Khán in his early days in Moghulistán, I have spoken above. Another was Beg Kuli, whose name was mentioned in the history of Sháhi Beg Khán. At the time when the Emperor was defeated at Kul Malik by Ubaid Ullah Khán, and retired from Samarkand, this Beg Kuli, placing himself at the head of 3000 men, came and joined the Khán. He was a trustworthy man. Another was Ishák Bahádur, renowned for his valour and his sound judgment. Others were, Marik Bahádur, Putáji Bahádur, Kará-Uchunghál,^309a Shabán, Sultákár^309b Tufta Kuli, and Uzun Sakál Tufta Kuli. [Each of these was head of a tribe] and all were trustworthy and experienced men. Another was Tumán Bahádur, leader [sar-khail] of the Káluchi, and one of the most notable generals of his time. He will be mentioned in the account of the Khán's last days. Another was Malik Ali, commander [sirdar] of the tribe of Kárluk and a brave soldier. Another, Kulka, head [sar khail] of the Makrit. Another, Omar Shaikh, chief [kalántar] of the Shulkárchi.

All these were chiefs of tribes, and each had a retinue. There was yet another class of men, who had no following, but were quite alone; yet they had distinguished themselves above the rest, by their courage in many battles and engagements, and thus they had acquired the name of “heroes” [bahádur]. Some of their deeds of warlike valour will be mentioned below. A list of the names of a few of them follows: Midaka [Bahádur], Abdul Váhid [Bahádur], Khudái Kuli [Bahádur], Shakával, Yusuf Bakával, Muhammad Ali Tumán, Kishkui Divána, Kará Dána Kuli, Shaikh Nazar Yasával, Barka Yasával, Hakk Nazar Divána, Ali Kurchi, Sháh Mirák Kalandar, Bábá Kulághán, Tangri Bardi, Bái Tisha, Hakk Nazar Kughuchi, Pák [or Jabák] Mir Akhur, Pálicha Mir Akhur, Bar Mazid Mankish, Sukár Káluchi, Sukár Ukhsi, Bábarin Azuk Mirzá, and others. They were the talk of their time, and all of them heroes like Rustam, Zál, and Afrásiáb the brazen-bodied. I have mentioned a few of them, but it would be tedious to mention them all; moreover many of them have no place in this history—no connection with the main events.

THE army having been mustered, it began to descend from the rising ground of Uch Barkhán…^310a The Amirs of Mirzá Abá Bakr's troops saw the masses of soldiers from afar, and estimated their numbers at 50,000. When a nervous person counts the enemy, he mistakes a hundred for a hundred thousand. On nearing the Tomb of the Khwája, they drew their bridles to the right and turned towards a village called Sarman, two farsákhs from Káshghar, where there is a ford over the Timán. Crossing the Timán they passed on to a place called Sughunluk, where Mirzá Abá Bakr had laid out beautiful gardens and meadows; in these they encamped. Some of the Amirs, taking their troops, approached the citadel of Káshghar, thinking that the enemy would wish to defend the fortifications and decline to come out. They approached quite close to the citadel and were examining it and admiring how well it had been fortified, when the enemy, sallying forth, drew up in battle order and stood ready. [Couplet]…

On arrival of the Amirs the battle began. Some courageous youths, to whom the day of battle was as the nuptial night, and the rumbling of the drums of war was as the murmuring of harps… [three couplets] now threw themselves upon the enemy's ranks, wielding their sabres on every side. All around was disorder and confusion: victory and defeat fell sometimes to one and sometimes to the other. The enemy having turned their faces towards Báz-Shirak,^310b all the infantry and cavalry poured out of the citadel to their assistance and joined in the fray. The battle lasted till past midday…^310c Then some of the Amirs sent messengers to the Khán, representing that the enemy had left their strong position and had descended into the plain. If the Khán wished to meet them on equal terms, now was the opportunity. Let him come before the sun should set, for then the enemy would retire to the citadel, and would not come out again. When the Khán received this message, … [three couplets] he arranged his army in the manner above described, and went forward, but as the ground was rough and broken, the troops were not able to preserve their formation. The Amirs of the left wing were ordered to go in advance, while the centre was to follow them. The Amirs of the right wing had many of them advanced in the early morning. When the Khán drew near he said: “Let the force advance slowly, while I ride forward and see how matters are going.” The Khán arrived just as the left wing had come up. The men who had been fighting [all the morning], seeing the Khán arrive, received fresh courage and were overjoyed; for they had been anxiously expecting him. They now made a combined charge … [three couplets] and before the centre had time to come up, had overwhelmed the enemy.

Khwája Sáki Ali was chief minister [mushrif-i-diván], and was sprung from the Uighurs of Khorásán.^311a He had always distinguished himself by his extreme valour, but through his impetuosity the thread of his life was cut in two. He had been one of the first to arrive on the scene of action, and was standing with his men in the front of the army, when he saw that the Khán had come. Before all the rest, he threw himself upon the centre of the enemy, and allowed the reins of discretion to be guided by the palm of recklessness. The infantry archers had formed an ambush in a large stream called the Sarman. Khwája Sáki Ali, without hesitating, made his horse leap this stream, wishing to use his sabre against the cavalry that were standing on the opposite bank. But one of those foot bowmen who were standing in ambush in the water, shot an arrow into Khwája Sáki Ali's eye, so that it came out at the back of his head, and he immediately fell [lifeless] from his horse.

In the meanwhile the enemy had been put to rout, having been dislodged from their ground by the violence of the onslaught of the Khán's warriors. Before the whole army could come up, the advanced body pushed on, striking and killing, up to the gates [of Káshghar]. In a short space of time the King of Kings of the universe, and rightful Lord of the realm, utterly destroyed the numerous host together with its weapons and material of war. They were only just able to creep, crushed and routed, into the citadel and to close the gates. That night the Khán pitched his royal camp in the immediate vicinity [of the town], and on the morrow, at break of day, again drew up his troops and approached the citadel. But as there was nobody within, except a few soldiers lightly armed, he retired to Tukuzák, where he encamped. On the following day, having crossed the river Kará Tázghun, his army went and pitched their camp at Tirák, one of the districts depending on Yángi-Hisár. Here they were joined by the families [kuch] who were following after them; these they left here, and marched on to the gates of the citadel of Yángi-Hisár. The men in the citadel did not come out, but there was some infantry stationed below the citadel, and upon these Midaka Bahádur (who has been spoken of already, and will be mentioned again) made a bold attack. As their position was a strong one, he retired, and they, in turn, having stood their ground for awhile, also retreated. The Khán remained several days in that neighbourhood, changing his position from place to place, in the expectation that Mirzá Abá Bakr, having collected an army, would be coming. He passed nearly two months in those parts, without hearing any news of Abá Bakr Mirzá. In the meantime Mirzá Ali Taghái and Haji Mirzá, together with a few men from every division, conducted forays round about the hills of Sárigh Kul, where they became possessed of much booty and countless sheep.

At this time Muhammad Kirghiz came to wait on the Khán and was favourably received. He begged to be allowed to go to Yárkand and bring back definite news [of Mirzá Abá Bakr]. [The Khán approving of the plan allowed him to depart], sending with him several persons of consequence. They plundered Arslán Bágh, which is two farsákhs from Yárkand, and found much booty, which they brought with them, together with the news that [Mirzá Abá Bakr] was doing his utmost to collect an army, and was giving out horses and arms to the peasantry and villagers. But he had no force on which he could rely. Upon hearing this the Khán set out against Yárkand.

WHEN Muhammad Kirghiz brought the news of Mirzá Abá Bakr, all the councillors were for marching against Yárkand. If Mirzá Abá Bakr were to come forth and give them battle, well and good; if not, there was, at any rate, an abundance of corn and other necessaries round about Yárkand. They must lay siege to the citadel of Yárkand. If it should fall, Káshghar and Yángi-Hisár would naturally fall also. With such projects they moved on towards Yárkand, until they came to Sukát, a village at ten farsákhs distance from Yángi-Hisár.

At this place some of those who had come in flight to Mir Ayub, with neither family nor dependents, formed a plot [daghdagha] to desert and go off towards Karátigin and Hisár. But when their scheme was discovered, most of them were unable to get away: a certain number, however, went. While the talk about this continued, Midaka Bahádur represented that Kitta Beg had had a similar intention. This Kitta Beg is the same person who was mentioned in the beginning of this book. He was the brother of Mir Ahmad Kásim Kuhbur and when Mir Ahmad Kásim left Táshkand, he was in Sairám, which place he kept for himself for a whole year. When the Emperor retired to Kábul, and no hope was left him of relief from any quarter, he [Kitta Beg] sent a message to Kásim Khán offering to give up Sairám to him, and thus brought Kásim Khán against Táshkand. This anecdote has been already told. On leaving the service of Kásim Khán, Kitta Beg went over to the Khán in Andiján. All the Amirs approved the words of Midaka Bahádur, who said: “His flight is quite proper, because he is Bábar Pádisháh's subject, and he wished to go away. But he must not be put into chains until the matter has been more thoroughly inquired into.” When the Amirs had confirmed this plan, the Khán said: “I will myself stand security for Kitta Beg, and if he gets away, I will be responsible.” The Khán then sent for Kitta Beg and said to him: “They have been telling such and such stories about you. Now you are a brave man. It is not fitting that you should desert us. I have made myself security for you to the Amirs. If on this occasion you show me attachment, your desires shall be satisfied; but if you disgrace me in the sight of the Amirs by running away, that course is also open to you.” To this Kitta Beg replied: “I am not such a coward as to desert just at the time of battle.” He said nothing more, but remained, in silence, in close attendance upon the Khán.

In consequence of these dissensions, the proposed march on Yárkand was abandoned, and at dawn on the following day they set out in haste for Yángi-Hisár … [three couplets], where they arrived at midday. There was one circumstance which was most propitious for them. When the army that was occupying Káshghar heard that the Khán had marched against Yárkand, they sent a message to the Amirs in Yángi-Hisár, to the effect that the light force in occupation were uneasy on many accounts. If a few of the Káshghari were sent back to them, they would be of material aid to the garrison. The Amirs in Yángi-Hisár thinking this reasonable, sent back a large number of Káshghari to Káshghar. These men, issuing from the citadel, crossed the river of Yángi-Hisár and were proceeding [homewards], when suddenly the Moghuls^314a fell upon them, and the whole body became a prey to the Khán's army.

At this juncture, the Khán himself came up. The Yángi-Hisár men, who were all on foot, had come into the midst of ravines and streams, and rough, broken ground, but they made a brave stand. When the Khán came upon the scene, Kitta Beg pushed forward and struck Midaka Bahádur, saying: “On that day you told me that I was going to run away. Let it be seen to-day, who it is that will run away.” Now Midaka was one of the most eminent warriors, and the bravest of the brave. He replied: “I have been longing for this day for years;” and therewith he pressed forward. The two charged forward upon [the enemy] [Verses] … The road down which they rode was very narrow; on one side of it flowed the river of Yángi-Hisár, in which the water was surging in waves, while on the other side was a deep ravine. The road was wide enough, perhaps, for three horsemen to ride abreast. In the middle of this had been placed a gate, through which infantry could pass, and in which many soldiers in armour were posted, while outside it, others were engaged in discharging their arrows. When these two horsemen charged, the soldiers put their backs against the gate. The horse of Kitta Beg came up in advance of Midaka's, and however much the latter might use his whip, he was not able to pass in front. When Kitta Beg came near, the archers began to aim their arrows at his horse, so that it fell on the spot, and Kitta Beg was dismounted. As the passage was narrow, the horse fell into the water, while Kitta Beg advanced on foot to attack the soldiers. They, however, placed themselves so that his sword could not reach them, and Midaka, coming close after, drew his horse up and said: “Peace be on you. Let this be a sufficient display of valour; let us now return.” But Kitta Beg replied: “I will not retire until you do.” Now as the arrows were pouring down, like rain, from the gate, and from the top of the ravine, Midaka saw that if they advanced, both would perish, he therefore withdrew first, while Kitta Beg followed very slowly behind him. The Khán praised Kitta Beg loudly, while the people blamed Midaka, who replied: “It was not a position in which we could do the enemy any injury. Kitta Beg, in his excitement, behaved like a madman; if I, too, had made a fool of myself, the only result would have been the death of us both. I yielded to his passion.” This excuse was approved by some, but not by others.

To be brief, every one took up his quarters [muljâr] in the suburbs of Yángi-Hisár. A few days later, Mir Ayub was carried off by a form of dropsy. Towards the end of his illness the Khán went to visit him, and he said to the Khán: “I have not observed fidelity and loyalty to Bábar Pádisháh [but have broken my oath], owing to the instigation of those hogs and bears,” alluding to the Moghul generals who had incited him to join in the revolt at Hisár, which has been mentioned. “That [broken] oath is now lacerating my bowels, and I am being killed by remorse. As for those hogs and bears, may God restrain His wrath from them, for causing me to break solemn vows.” [Quatrain] … After the death of Mir Ayub, his rank descended to his brother Muhammad Beg.

During those times there were daily engagements, and every man was eager to bring into evidence the precious stones of bravery which he had stored up in the treasure-house of his heart. Among those who distinguished themselves, were Midaka, Abdul Váhid, Khuddái Kuli Shakávul, and Muhammad Ali Tumán. Other individuals displayed their gallantry on one, or two, or three occasions, but as for these four men, there were few battles in which they did not do something remarkable, and scarcely a day passed without a battle taking place. When it was ascertained that Mirzá Abá Bakr did not intend leaving Yárkand, all were agreed that Yángi-Hisár ought to be carried by storm, and this having been determined upon, they sent off Ali Bahádur (who has been alluded to above in the list of eminent Moghuls) to Kizil, which is on the border of the desert of Yárkand, that he might reconnoitre, and watch the movements of Mirzá Abá Bakr. If, during the siege, he should make a sally, the Khwája was to return immediately with the news, so that [the Khán] might be prepared to meet him.

IN the beginning of Rajab of the year 920, the Khán disposed his troops round the citadel of Yángi-Hisár, and pitched his camp so close to it, that if gaz-long arrows had been aimed at his tent from the top of the citadel, they might have reached the edge of the cliff under which he had camped. The intrenchments [murchal] were arranged on the following plan. On the north side there was no need for intrenchments, because the fort was situated on the top of a cliff, which ended in a sheer precipice. Mines would there take no effect, while to ascend the cliff was impossible. For these reasons trenches were useless on the north side. The first tower on the west, was taken in hand by the Khán himself and the warriors of the centre, who were always in attendance upon him; these belonged to no particular regiment, but their names have been mentioned above. Another tower on the same side—west of the Khán's—was entrusted to me, and to my right were Mirzá Ali Taghái, Kutluk Mirak Mirzá, and Babrika Mirzá, who, together, were laying a mine. Beyond them, Bábá Sárik Mirzá and Shahbáz Mirzá, and a body of Báhrin, had charge of another. Farther on again, were Mirzá Muhammad Beg and Beg Muhammad Beg, who had chosen [a site for] a third. Beyond them was a tower, the gate of which looked due south. To this tower were appointed Jánka Mirzá and Bishka Mirzá; while on the south side Munka Beg had charge of another mine. At his side was yet another, under the supervision of Mir Muhammad, who had lately succeeded to the position held by Mir Ayub. Near him was Mir Kambar, then came Ali Mirák Barlás, next Mir Dáim, next Kará Kulák Mirzá, then my uncle; and beyond him was the eastern gate of the citadel, which side, like the northern, overlooks a precipice. For five days and nights all our energies were devoted to digging and advancing galleries.

The first mine that was ready to be tried was the Khán's. It went off at midnight, and that tower which had raised itself to the skies, now fell with a crash, level with the ground; but part of the original wall was left standing. On that day every one exerted himself to the utmost, and the mines were so far advanced, as to be ready to blow up the walls with very little further labour. [The strongest of all the towers was the one] given to Jánka Mirzá and Bishka Mirzá to undermine, but they made cracks along the wall for a distance of about sixty gaz.

While the siege was thus proceeding, one of Khwája Ali Bahá-dur's men brought in a certain Alika and a few generals. This Alika was the son of the commander of the citadel, who was called Amin Dárugha, and who was one of Mirzá Abá Bakr's most distinguished Amirs. To him had been committed the entire charge of the citadel of Yángi-Hisár. It came about in this way. Mirzá Abá Bakr had collected a force in Yárkand and had amassed a quantity of arms, hoping to come and relieve Yángi-Hisár. He then detached a body of picked men and sent them off to reconnoitre at Kizil, with orders to bring back any news they might learn, so that he might form his plans accordingly. This body was under the command of Pir Ali Beg, the brother of Vali Beg, who has been alluded to already. On reaching Kizil, they found that a party of Moghuls were reconnoitring in the same district. Having ascertained his exact position, they fell upon Khwája Ali Bahádur unexpectedly, the same night. The horsemen were sleeping soundly, when the din of giving and taking of blows, war cries, and trumpets startled them from their slumbers. [Verses] … It was a pitch dark night—neither moon nor stars were visible— nor could friend be distinguished from enemy. [Two couplets] … All who awoke were mad with confusion at the alarm, and were unable to collect their thoughts sufficiently to realise what was passing, so all fled in dismay, excepting Khwája Ali Bahádur, who did not lose his presence of mind, but stood his ground firmly, and called out to his followers by name. All who heard his voice rallied to his side, till at length a good number were gathered round him, and they too began to call their war-cry loudly. Some of those who had been stupefied by the sudden awakening, now recovered their senses, and on listening attentively, heard the voices calling the war-cry. On this their courage was renewed, and they went and rejoined Khwája Ali Bahádur. They discharged their arrows in the dark, and fought on till the brightness of dawn overcame the shadows of night, when by that light the combatants began to see [the real state of things]. The enemy became aware of their small numbers, while our men saw their own superiority.

Pir Ali Beg had but a hundred men with him, while Khwája Ali Bahádur had three hundred. Since in the darkness they had become confused and disordered, Pir Ali Beg saw that flight would be a cowardly death, while to hold his ground was to die nobly. Near to that spot was a garden; within this he tried to defend himself. Ere the sun had reached the meridian, the sun of the lives of those men had set. Out of a hundred, only two escaped to bear the news that the rest of their party had perished, The above-mentioned Alika had been wounded in the fight. To prevent his giving information, they did not send him back to his friends, but despatched him to the Khán with the heads of the slain hung round his neck—the throats running with blood. He reached the Khán at midday, and the heads of those generals were sent into the citadel as a gift. Alika was then asked for news. He replied: “Mirzá Abá Bakr has made all the necessary preparations for an expedition. All the people know that he has got horses, and arms of every kind, such as coats of mail, horse-armour, and so forth; that nothing is wanting—nay, rather there is a superabundance of all such things. But he has no generals—no renowned Amirs or brave warriors, whose strength and judgment are the very foundations of true sovereignty. For all of these, he has himself put to death. And now, in order to complete his army, he is obliged to choose men from among the peasantry, artizans and market-people, making one a Vazir, another an Amir: the first a Mir and the second a councillor. The rustic who has spent his life with his hand on the plough, and has never done any work but ploughing, how can he begin to wield a sword or hold the reins of government? Though he may try ever so hard, I am sure he cannot succeed; such foolish ideas can come to nothing.” And he laid much stress upon the improbability of Mirzá Abá Bakr advancing. [Our] people, however, did not fully trust his words, but suspected that this man, drowning in the whirlpool of misfortune, was employing flattery as a means of reaching the shore of salvation.

About evening prayer time, one of Khwája Ali Bahádur's followers brought in another man who had come to him in flight. This fugitive reported that Mirzá Abá Bakr, having mustered an army, had advanced two farsákhs out of Yárkand, when he deserted him. Many were loth to believe this also, and imagined it to be a trick on the part of Mirza Abá Bakr, by which he hoped to retard the operations against the citadel of Yángi-Hisár; so they tortured this informant till he died, but he persisted in his story to the end, and then they believed it.

All the Amirs were for raising the siege that same night, and for marching out to meet and engage Mirzá Abá Bakr, before he should be joined by the armies of Káshghar and Yángi-Hisár. But the Khán said: “I intend to remain at the foot of this cliff until Mirzá Abá Bakr comes, and to aim my arrows at the citadel and at Mirzá Abá Bakr, until I am killed on this spot. Those who do not [wish to] follow my example, let them do what they like.” When the Khán had said this, all knelt down before him, saying: “May your exalted majesty's road be [strewed] with our lives as a thousand sacrifices! Who is there among us who holds his own wretched existence more dear than the precious life of the Khán, or thinks of his own personal safety first, in this undertaking?” Then all again set to work, with contented hearts, at the mines.

At daybreak of the sixth day of the siege, the Khán rode round all the trenches and infused his own enthusiasm into the hearts of his Amirs and soldiers: praising those who had exerted themselves, and ordering to be whipped any who had been remiss. In this manner did he pass round the citadel. As he approached the trench of my uncle, some one called out from the top of the citadel. They listened. He was saying: “Let one of the followers of Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá come forward; I have something to tell him.” Thereupon a man was sent forward, who [however] asked whether Kukildásh Mirzá Ali Sayyid Bahádur was there, [and if so] had they not better send him [to parley]? [So they sent him.] After a short time Ali Sayyid returned reporting that Amin Dárugha had spoken as follows: “Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá is Mirzá Abá Bakr's brother. For generations past I and my sons have been their servants. In our loyalty we have, during three months, been in peril of our lives, in spite of never having enjoyed during forty years, a moment's security from Mirzá Abá Bakr. Those whom he wished to kill he killed, and those who were left alive were all subjected to violent punishments, such as castration—that is to say, depriving of virility—cutting off the hands and feet, putting out eyes, and the like. All were sure to be exposed to some calamity. In spite of all this, I felt it still my duty to remain loyal. Now it has come to a question of life and death; the knife has reached the bone. If Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá will forget our enmity, forgive our sins, and spare our lives and our goods, we will deliver the citadel into his hands and become his vassals.” When the Khán heard this message he was overjoyed, and sent Ali Sayyid back, saying that their offer was accepted.

ONE of the worst of the wicked practices of Mirzá Abá Bakr was that, having laid down the most strenuous and exacting regulations and observances, he would not be satisfied with anything less than the death of any person who should, in the least degree, infringe them. Having put that person to death for a trifling fault, he would become apprehensive of his tribe and relations, and would persuade himself that they could never be pacified. He would therefore set about their extermination, sparing neither suckling babes nor women with child; but punishing them all, from mature men to the child at the breast, so that after he had been satisfied a thousand times with their death, they died with thankfulness (as has been related before).

In short, towards the end of his life, Mirzá Abá Bakr entrusted his army and all military affairs to Mir Vali, placing the administration of the State and the people in the hands of Sháh Dána Kukildásh. These two men fulfilled their duties with the utmost possible diligence.

As has been briefly stated above, Mir Vali succeeded so thoroughly in driving the Moghuls and Kirghiz out of Aksu and Moghulistán, that for a long time none of them dared come within two or three months' journey of Káshghar.^319a All the Moghuls crept into Chálish and Turfán, but the Kirghiz were allowed to dwell on this side of Issigh Kul. In the same manner, Mir Vali took entire possession of certain places in Farghána, such as Uzkand (which is the most important [town] of that province), Ush, Mádu, and Jágirák; all of which places lie above Andiján. He also brought under his power much of Karátigin and Badakhshán, and the districts of Balur and Tibet as far as Kashmir. All this was the achievement of Mir Vali.

Before the battle of Tutluk, my uncle endeavoured to bring about a meeting with Mir Vali, in order that they might discuss the terms of a peace. [When Mir Vali heard this] he thought my uncle must be reduced to straits and in despair; thus he might be able to seize him by deception, and send him to Mirzá Abá Bakr as a present. He felt that he could not possibly perform a more worthy or important service. These considerations induced him to assent to the interview. They met at a place agreed on, between two lines of men appointed respectively by either side, and they began to confer together in a manner suitable to the occasion. During the conference, my uncle said to the Amirs who had accompanied Mir Vali: “I have a few words to say to Mir Vali; leave us.” Thereupon the Amirs rose up [and withdrew]; Mir Vali alone remained. The few words were merely a repetition of some civilities relating to Mirzá Abá Bakr, which he had already uttered in the presence of the Amirs. They then separated, and each man returned to his own army. After this, occurred the event [battle] at Tutluk, which weighed down the scale of Mir Vali in the balance of the regulations of Mirzá Abá Bakr. Mirzá Abá Bakr asked the generals who had been present at the interview what had been said; they told him all that had passed, and added: “This is what was said in our presence, but afterwards Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá spoke to Mir Vali in private, and we do not know what he said then.” When, after the battle at Tutluk, Mir Vali came to Mirzá Abá Bakr's presence, the latter asked what Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá had said to him in private, and Mir Vali told him what my uncle had said. Then Mirzá Abá Bakr replied: “But that is exactly what he said before all the others; one does not demand a private interview merely to repeat such things as these.” He said nothing further, but from that moment he began to suspect Mir Vali, thinking: “What Sayyid Muhammad really said to him in private he will not tell me; perhaps he is in league with him, and is planning my ruin.” So he seized Mir Vali and sent him to the Kázik, together with his brothers. Some of them he castrated. And thus did he annihilate all these people for the simple question: “why did Sayyid Muhammad demand a private interview?” and subjected them all to hard punishments and bitter suffering. [Verses] …

This is an instance of Mirzá Abá Bakr's cruelty. Another example is his treatment of Shah Dána Kukildásh, to whom were entrusted the affairs of the State and the people, and the control of the treasury. He, too, had exerted himself to the utmost in the performance of his duties. For example, the flocks of sheep he had collected at the conquest of Káshghar were beyond reckoning, and when by reason of my extreme youth I could not attend to business, and on this account did not attempt to estimate the profits of the booty [then taken], I only know that more than 15,000 sheep fell to my lot. No one on that occasion got a smaller share than myself, of Mirzá Abá Bakr's property. The soldiers who had accompanied the Khán, and the men from the armies of the Mirzá, all received an equally large share; and from this, one can form an estimate of the whole! In the same manner, his cattle and flocks, grain and treasure (which have been mentioned, and will be mentioned again), were so numerous and abundant, that the intellect is incapable of conceiving the quantity that fell to each man. All this had been amassed under the superintendence of Sháh Dána Kukildásh.

After the fall of Mir Vali, the Mirzá's suspicions extended to Sháh Dána Kukildásh, [thinking] that he might say to himself: “Mir Vali was a greater man than I am, yet the Mirzá seized him: perhaps he will seize me too.” These thoughts had never entered Sháh Dána's mind, nor that of anybody else; he, however, seized Sháh Dána upon suspicion, saying [by way of pretext] that Sháh Dána had reduced the value of his property; and there, in front of the seat of judgment [divan-khána], he ordered people to pluck out the whole of his beard and to castrate him; while, as soon as his wounds were healed, he sent him to work [in the Kázik.]

In the places of these two [officers] he set up mean creatures [arázil] from among the Amirs; and, though he found himself better off than formerly as regards worldly substance, the affairs of the army ceased to flourish; for such another commander as Mir Vali was not readily to be met with. In the meanwhile, the news of the Khán's march from Andiján to Káshghar received confirmation. [The Mirzá] immediately proceeded to Káshghar, and there, in seven days, constructed a citadel, as has been explained above. By the time it was known that the Khán had reached At-Báshi, which is seven days' journey from Káshghar, the fort of Yángi-Hisár had likewise been filled with stores, arms, and all that was fitting and necessary. It was placed in the charge of a few officers in whom he reposed confidence—namely, Amin Darugha, Ján Hasan of the tribe of Kárluk, Kuli Itárji, Ajmaga Akhta and Jáni Beg Akhta, Mir Vali, Sháh Dána, and Muhammad Beg (whom he had lately castrated), together with some of their followers. Although he had just taken many of them from the works,^322a he gave them each horses and arms, saying: “If you prove to me your devotion and loyalty, I will again take you into favour.”

At this juncture, it was reported that the Khán had reached Tushgu. [Mirzá Abá Bakr] thereupon set out for Yárkand, giving his final injunctions [to the officers] in Yángi-Hisár. He promised the people that he would go and muster an army in Yárkand, and come to their relief. Upon his arrival at Yárkand he at once set about collecting forces. He filled the country with horses and arms. [There was a certain] Ustád Abdál Sháikh, who was a perfect master [ustád], and unrivalled in all kinds of work with hammer and anvil. After the fall of Mir Vali and Sháh Dána Kukildásh, Mirzá Abá Bakr had set up this Shaikh Abdál in the place of Sháh Dána, and I have heard [Shaikh Abdál] say that there were in the Mirzá's armoury 60,000 coats of mail [juba] and 12,000 sets of horse armour [kichim], besides other arms and accoutrements, the number of which may be judged by these figures. But the army itself was composed of peasants, artizans, gardeners, and cultivators of the soil. Upon those he judged the most capable among them, he conferred the rank of Mirzá. A hundred and twenty of them he made his own escort, and the rest all received horses and arms. [Three couplets.]

(1) It takes many a year for the natural stone to become, by the sun's power, a ruby in Badakhshán, or an amethyst in Yemen.

(2) It is many months before a seed of cotton is ready to be made into a robe for a huri, or a shroud for a corpse.

(3) It is many days before a handful of wool from the back of a sheep, becomes a zealot's shirt or a donkey's halter.

…^322b However this may be, Mirzá Abá Bakr having mustered his army, marched with it to a point two farsákhs distant from Yárkand; thence he detached, and sent in advance, some picked men, who fell in with Khwája Ali Bahádur at Kizil, as has been told above. [Thus we see] that the man who was brought before the Khán at Yángi-Hisár during the siege operations, and who had been tortured to death, spoke the truth. He had deserted at the time when Mirzá Abá Bakr, having led his army two farsákhs out of Yárkand, sent forward the advance guard. The man had reported exactly what he had witnessed.

When Mirzá Abá Bakr had pitched his camp at this spot, he wished to pass his forces in review, but his efforts to do so were in vain. For these Amirs, who had been used all their lives to handling the yoke [yugh], when they now raised the standard [tugh]^323a and formed in line, thought they were thrashing corn, and got in each other's way; nor could they distinguish between right and left and centre. When their spirited steeds reared and shied, they held on anyhow to the withers, and when, in fear of their lives, they pulled at the bridle, and the horse would rear, the rider would lose his control, and slip back on the horse's haunches. If the animal started off, they would throw up the bridle and fall, like a drop of sweat, to the ground. Their bows got broken, and their arrows fell out [of the quivers]. When Mirzá Abá Bakr saw this kind of horsemanship—such soldiering and such archery—he said: “With such a troop as this, it would be dangerous to try and rob a kitchen-garden” [páliz]; and he returned, dispirited and anxious, to his tent, seriously meditating flight.

Following this, came news that the citadel of Yángi-Hisár had fallen; and when the people of Káshghar heard of that, they too abandoned their citadel and dispersed. On this intelligence reaching the Mirzá, he felt that further delay was useless [and that the hour for flight had come] [Couplet] … Therefore, having packed up the richest of his clothes and his valuables, having divorced his kingdom, and handed Yárkand over to his eldest son, Jahángir Mirzá, he fled. [Verses] …

Jahángir Mirzá, who had passed all his life in seclusion, was of a timorous disposition. Finding himself suddenly placed upon the throne of a disordered State, he did what he was able in the way of government, and then, at the end of five days (hearing that his father was at a distance, and that the enemy were near at hand), set out in flight. He collected all the treasure he could carry off, and issued a general order that every one might take what he wished. Those who were afraid of the Moghuls, accompanied him in his flight. The rest fell upon whatever treasure remained, plundering the granaries and burning, or destroying, property of all kinds.

Four days after the departure of Mirzá Jahángir, Khwája Ali Bahádur arrived with two or three thousand men, and two days later the Khán followed, all of which shall be related presently. Mirzá Jahángir retired to Sánju, which is the frontier on the highroad to Tibet, while Mirzá Abá Bakr went to Khotan. But, seeing no possibility of making a stand in the citadel there, he marched on to Karánghutágh, whither he was followed, in hot pursuit, by a party of Moghuls. As the roads were difficult, it would have been hard—nay, impossible, for him to carry off all the property he had with him; he therefore collected it all together, and set it on fire. I have heard from those who had charge of it, that there were nine hundred mule-loads of embroidered and brocaded garments. Many of them were embroidered in gold in the European, Ottoman [Rumi], and Chinese fashions; while some of the robes were studded with jewels and all kinds of precious stones. All these were consumed in the fire; while his gold and silver vases, cups, and various kinds of ornaments set with jewels, and his saddle-bags filled with gold-dust, he threw from the bridge into the River Ak-Tásh, which flows through the middle of [the valley of] Karánghutágh. He killed his riding horses [tupchák] and mules; then, taking what it was possible to carry on such a road, set out for Tibet.

On reaching Tibet [Ladak], he found that all the forts which he had garrisoned had been abandoned by his men, who had fled in different directions; so that his forts and treasures had again fallen into the hands of the infidels of Tibet. Hence he could do nothing in that country. He could discern no shore of safety from amid the furious waves of hardship and trial, which tossed around him. Mirzá Abá Bakr had now for a space of forty-eight years^324a so filled the book [of life] with black records, that there was no space left to write anything more. He had devoted all his energies to accumulating earthly goods, and the pen is unable to describe his worldly magnificence. But, although he used ostentatiously to speak of the next world, and to express hopes of attaining it, yet he never performed an action that did not, as it were, open to him a door of hell or shut upon him a gate of paradise. Between himself and paradise was a long road…^324b

In short, in the fulness of time, he reaped the fruits of his past misdeeds; so that, finding it impossible to remain in Tibet, he preferred death to life. Leaving his family and children there, he departed, saying: “I am going [to give myself up to the Khán]. It is evident that I shall be killed with the poison of oppression. If this happens, bury my body in the sepulchre of my ancestors. Although I have not discharged the duties of kinship towards Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá and Mirza Haidar, I beg you to show them kindness. And if, contrary to my expectations, they should not kill me, I have still a plan [which may be executed].” With such intentions he set out, towards the middle of winter, to visit the Khán. On his way, he met with a party of his own servants, whom my uncle had sent into Tibet to fetch him, threatening them with this and that [penalty] if they did not succeed. When Mirzá Abá Bakr met them, he asked their news; they replied: “We have been sent to find you:” and then they strung together a few lies to try and reassure him. But he did not believe them, and said: “All I want you to do is to take me, living, before the Khán and Sayyid Muhammad; after that, you can do what you please.” They launched out into professions of readiness to comply with his wish. Then, as it was late, having said his night prayers, he went to sleep: and the saying, “Sleep is the brother of Death,” was verified in his case. When he retired to rest, the men of the party consulted together, resolved to cut off his head and carry it to the Khán, [as this would appear an important service] and cause the Khán to place confidence in them.

Bad as he was, these people [should not have] betrayed their charge, and used perfidy in place of good faith. However, they cut off his head while he slept and then returned, as shall be narrated shortly. Thus were all his subjects—prince and pauper, high and low—delivered from his wickedness. [Verses, etc.] …