Siyar al-Muta'ahirin - The Seir Mutaqherin, Volume 1

JAMES MILL & H. H. WILSON.—“The Author of the Sëir-Mutaqherin, whom, as better informed, I follow in all affairs relating at the period to the Court of Delhi, &c., &c.,”—The History of British India.

H. G. KEENE, C. I. E.—“This celebrated history is a work of surprising industry and contains many just reflections on the position of the English and the feelings of the people towards them, which are almost as true now as they were when written.”—The Fall of the Moghul Empire.

MAJOR CHARLES STEWART.—“The Sëir-Mutaqherin, by a relation of the Nawab Aly Verdy Khan, was translated by a renegado Frenchman, named Mustapha, and bears such strong evidence of a literal translation that I did not think it requisite to search for the original.”—The History of Bengal.

GENERAL JOHN BRIGGS (MADRAS ARMY)—“It is written in the style of private memoirs in the most useful and engaging shape which history can assume nor, excepting in the peculiarities which belong to the Muhammadan character and creed, do we perceive throughout its pages any inferiority to the historical memoirs of Europe. The Duc de Sully, Lord Clarendon or Bishop Burnet need not have been ashamed to be the authors of such a production—Preface to Vol. 1 of the Sëir-Mutaqherin.

SIR H. M. ELLIOT, K. C. B.—“The author treats these important subjects with a freedom and with a force, clearness and simplicity of style very unusual in an Asiatic writer, and which justly entitles him to pre-eminence among Muhammadan historians. * * * It has long been a rare book, only to be found here and there in public libraries. It is greatly to be desired that a complete translation of this history should be accessible to the students of Indian history. * * * The work is well-known to English readers from the many quotations and extracts which Mill has made from it in his History of India, and Gholam Hossain is ‘the Musulman historian of those times’ whom Macaulay has quoted and spoken of with approval in his Essay on Clive.”—The History of India as told by its own Historians.

RAI BANKIM CHANDRA CHATTERJEE, BAHADUR, C. I. E.—“The materials of this work, which are not to be found in any ordinary history, are borrowed from an English Translation of the Sëir-Mutaqherin. The latter work is very scarce, and is deserving of being reprinted.”—Preface to Chandra-Shekhur.

THIS HISTORY, although dedicated to Governor Hastings, was not addressed to him in London, (it was intended to regale him with the surprise of it) but to a correspondent, eminent in the mercantile line, who was informed that it had been hurried thither in the rough state in which it was, merely to afford some timely assistance to that great man, by elucidating upon so competent and so unconcerned an evidence as our historian, several articles that went far towards clearing the Governor’s character. These were “the high opinion conceived by the natives of his talents for Government, and the attachment they bore to his person; the falsehood of the Rohillah nations having been extirpated, or even intended for extirpation; the just grounds on which Shudjah-ed-döulah went to war with them; the erroneous opinion conceived by some persons of the treasure in the hands of the Princess at Feizbad, which they fancied to be private property, whereas it was public property, deposited as such by that Prince himself at a particular conjuncture, which our author points out with its date and motive; the opinion of the natives on Nandecomar’s death; and their detestation of the persecution undergone by the Governor from General Clavering and his party.”—All those points, with some more, were to be set in a strong light by this publication.—But in the rough state in which it had been hurried to England, it unavoidably wanted much correction in the distribution and divisions of the subject, in the punctuation of the sense, and in the style; all which defects required the inspection of a reviewer before it could be sent to thepress.—Unfortunately, the person to whose judgment and care the whole had been submitted, (and this was no less than an eminent historian in a nation that has now taken the lead of all Europe, after having been for several centuries shockingly defective in that branch of literature) unfortunately, I say, that gentleman proved to be deaf, and upon his death-bed; so that my correspondent, unable to spare any time himself for the inspection of this work, was obliged to lay it by, until a person properly qualified might be found out, and, of course, until fresh instruc tions should come from India. But such an incident being likely to take up a whole year more, and the original intent of the publication being totally marred and already defeated, there remained no other resource than that of supplicating the British public in Bengal, instead of addressing the British public in London.— This alteration was followed by another. Instead of applying the profits of this publication to the benefit of the little sum I had placed in the English funds, for the education of my children sent to England, I thought it full as proper to transfer them to the benefit of the British insolvent debtors in Bengal.

Not that I am unaware of the censure passed upon the exclusiveness of that disposition; but there were strong motives for it.—In a sojourn of more than thirty years in India, and in particular in Bengal, I have obliged, assisted, relieved, an infinity of Indians and other Asiaticks, made the fortune of some, and have never met with any other return than perfect indfference or the blackest ingratitude.—The case is very different with the British. Taken up by them after a ship-wreck, I have been assisted and relieved with so much generosity, that at last a small competency was put in my way; and the only return I ever made for such important benefits, amounts to one or two advices conveyed to Government, and some small trifling relief afforded to five or six individuals wrecked or distressed; a merit too diminutive certainly to be set to account in the line of return.—In restricting, therefore, to British insolvent debtors only, the benefits of this publication, I am conscious of acting with great propriety; nor is this any new thought. The worthy Captain Thornhill, whose probity and benevolence are universally known, will- I hope, aver that having so early as the year 1774, dedicated a yearly sum of a thousand Rupees to a charitable society at the head of which he was, I broke my connections with it, on their objecting to my restricting the donation to British insolvent debtors only, against the spirit of the institution.

Unluckily for me, (and my regret fall entirely upon the use I intend now to make of the work) this publication has unavoidably lost by delays and contretemps, the only merit it could pretend to, which was NOVELTY.—It is now superseded and totally eclipsed by a gentleman well known in the literary world, and in the line of translation in particular, who by publishing his General History of India, (a work greatly superior to this in arrangement and perspicuity of subject, as well as elegance of style) has very nearly rendered this slender performance superfluous and nugatory. However, as I cannot divest myself totally of all regard for twenty-four folio quires of paper, that have cost me so much money, and so much bodily labour; and as I fancy that the generality of that gentleman’s plan cannot have admitted an infinity of facts and details peculiar to this performance; I cannot help flattering myself that this humble offering of a well meaning individual will still find grace with the public.

Although this address be possibly too long already, fain I am to add two short articles more.—A year ago, I intended to print the first Volume at my own expense, and to submit that trial to an indulgent public; but the copy sent to England by triplicate, having cost me more than two thousand rupees; and my little competency (now greatly impaired by misfortunes and bankruptcies, as well as by a variety of infidelities, that have at last forced me to look out for some livelihood in Calcutta) being unable to furnish the great expense required by this publication, I have thought it expedient to supplicate the public on that head, rather than to give any trouble to a gentleman skilled in Persian, who had in 1786 generously offered his patronage, for the purpose of getting it printed here by subscription.

All, or by much the greatest part of the persons spoken of in this History, were to have a plate in their proper places; and plates were also to be occasionally inserted, of fortresses, palaces, buildings, arms, ceremonies, &c., &c. but all that is become impossible, or nearly so; the five hundred miniatures sent for that purpose to England being still there.—Nevertheless, as a few miniatures have been procured since, and others may be found amongst the curious of Calcutta, this publication may still have some plates, or rather as many as the public shall encourage.

This performance having been originally intended for European readers, was of course interspersed with a variety of notes and remarks, absolutely necessary to them; and although there is no doubt of their becoming nearly superfluous in India, yet it has been surmised that they would not prove totally unacceptable to some Indian readers, even in Bengal! and they have been therefore suffered to stand as they were.

THE SËIR-MUTAQHERIN, a Review of Modern Times (or, more correctly, The Manners of the Moderns) is the chronicle of the decay of the Moghul Empire and Mahomedan domination of India during the reigns of the seven last Emperors of Hindustan. It was written in Persian in 1780 A.D. (1194 A.H.) by Syed Gholam Hossein Khan, a Moslem Nobleman, who used, with his father, to reside at the Court of the Nawabs of Bengal, Behar and Orissa.

As will be seen from the opinions quoted on another page, the work has been spoken of in the highest terms by Lord Macaulay, James Mill, H. H. Wilson, Sir H. M. Elliot, Major Charles Stewart, H. G. Keene, Rai Bankim Chandra Chatterjee and other leading Indian historians and authors. It is written in the most charming style; and, embracing, as it does, the century immediately preceding the final occupation of India by the British, it should be of great interest to all Englishmen.

On its first appearance it attracted the notice of no less a person than WARREN HASTINGS himself who was anxious to have it translated into English. But in the absence of Persian scholars among his own countrymen, or their want of leisure to perform such a task, the work was undertaken by M. Raymond, a French Creole who had assumed the Mahomedan name of Hajee Mustapha. In the year 1789 he published the result of his labours in three large volumes, under the pseudonym of Nota Manus, dedicating the work to Hastings. The edition was despatched to England, but the vessel in which it was consigned was unfortunately lost, and with it was lost to the world the whole edition of the work, with the exception of the few copies that had been circulated in Calcutta. In view of these circumstances, a subsequent edition was undertaken some years later by the Oriental Translation Committee, and entrusted to Colonel John Briggs of the Madras Army. In 1832 John Murray of London issued the first volume, which, however, was never followed by a second. The work is also said to have been translated by Dr. F. C. Balfour, but of the latter’s translation, strange to say, nothing whatever is known.

The loss, therefore, of one English edition of the Sëir-Mutaqherin; the incomplete state of another, and the entire absence of a third, have rendered this important book exceedingly expensive and scarce. The price of the complete work, should a copy now and then come to light, would be about Rs. 500, more or less. Hence it is not a day too soon that we now issue this cheap and popular reprint of the former translation.

The work was originally printed on Patna paper of quarto size. Royal octavo has now been selected as being the more convenient size, and the paper used has been supplied by Messrs. John Dickinson & Co. of London.

As regards the present edition it may also be explained that, owing to the period of one-hundred-and-twelve years having elapsed since the former edition was published, several alterations have been rendered necessary; and, in order to suit modern requirements, these changes have been made. For instance, the foot-notes are now preceded by consecutive numerals corresponding with those in the text, which have been employed to replace the asterisks, daggers, etc., used in the earlier edition. The spelling of certain words has been modernized; the use of capital letters has, where unnecessary, been discontinued; the obsolete form of the small “s” has been done away with; and, in a few instances, the punctuation has been altered to suit the sense.

In conclusion, the Publishers desire to express their grateful acknowledgments to H. E. the Viceroy and Governor-General, H. E. the Governor of Bombay, H. H. the Lieutenant-Governor of Bengal, H. H. the Maharaja Sir Jotendro Mohan Tagore, H. H. the Maharaja Bahadur of Tippera, H. H. the Maharaja Bahadur of Mymensing, the Hon’ble Mr. Justice Ameer Ali, the Hon’ble Dr. Asutosh Mookerji, Dr. G. A. Grierson, and many other kind patrons who subscribed towards the work before it was issued from the Press.

THAT the man who has not the honor to be born an Englishman, and is far from being a Persian; who never has seen England, and never had any other master in either language but himself, should attempt to translate from the Persian into English, and moreover to appear in print, is such a strange proceeding, and borders so much upon impudence and temerity, that the least I owe to an indulgent public, and to my own character, is to submit to their pleasure some account of so unusual a transaction, that they may see themselves by what a chain of strange circumstances I have been insensibly drawn into so adventurous an undertaking. And here I am conscious that I am going to fall, (through contagion probably) into a course of irksome egotisms; but as my story is likely to give many an insight into the customs and characters of Hindostan; and I have no other way of accounting for the temerity of my translation, I humbly conceive that, on that sole account, it may find grace with many of my readers, if ever I shall have any.

About eighteen years ago, when I was master of an Eastern Library, and of a Cabinet of Eastern Curiosities,^* I had conceived a design of spending my leisure hours in a variety of translations, and likewise in a reasoned catalogue of my Library, Oriental Miniatures, and Antiquities. But all that, with the remainder of my fortune, was sacked and plundered at Djeddâh and Mecca in 1770; and I returned to India, with an intention indeed to begin the world anew under the patronage of my friends (the English), but with a firm resolution never to employ any money in books: I had even taken a dislike to them, I mean to Oriental books; when an event happened that reconciled me to them again. Such a narrative, I acknowledge, would figure pretty well at the end of the one thousand and one nights, but it is nevertheless true, and to my sorrow, but too true.

I had seen so much bad weather in my youthful days, and so often suffered both hunger and thirst in India, that whilst I was scraping together the little fortune which I since lost at Mecca, I thought it prudent to abstain from many a comfort of life, in order to lay-by the sooner a provision for a day of distress. But when I returned to India, and saw myself introduced by the national munificence, and private partiality of my English friends into a little competency, I thought it prudent, to snatch as fast as I could at those gratifications of which I had deprived myself hitherto, and at those pleasures which were now leaving me one after another. In time, I came to think it more prudent and more delicate to employ my industry and time in assembling a Seraglio of my own: this gratification, so luscious and fascinating in theory, but so irksome and cloying, as well as dangerous in practice, and which together with an Indian cabinet of curiosities, had always been a wish of my heart, was soon acquired; and whilst many of the English, who fancy I never travel without some mighty scheme in my head, thought I was actually upon the wing for some political project; I diverted myself with the ludicrous purpose for which I was really taking so many trips to Lucknow. But men on the decline of life, who after abandoning the scheme of making a collection of books, jump at once into the project of making a collection of Female Beauties, must lay their account with cutting now and then a capital figure in certain adventures, which never fail to spring up in a house where youth and beauty are jumbled together with old age and wrinkles. I discovered that a beloved girl of mine was in intrigue with one of my dependants; and the consequence of that amour soon proved of a nature which self-love could not put up with, but which a sense of humanity and a high regard for the girl, would not permit me either to chastise or to suppress. At last ?? resolved on turning the girl out of my house with a sum of money in her hands: but upon recollection, I remembered that a dear bought experience had taught me, that money and liberty together, were the very worst presents that could be made to young women who have always lived immured within lofty walls; and fain was I to provide for her in another manner. A Mushatta, that is a Procuress, was sent for, I mean one of those discreet, shrewd, inquisitive, old women, so common in Hindostan, where the business of finding a wife or a husband, is necessarily transacted by brockerage: after rummaging the whole city of Lucknow for three months together, and rejecting a number of parties, a young man of about thirty, stout, and of a good mien, was found out at last. It was a Mogul-Baccha, or man of Mogul origin, and a trooper; and of course, according to the notions universally received all over Hindostan, a gentleman to all intents and purposes. Contrary to the rules of the country, an interview was managed between the young folks; and by dint of reasoning and entreaties, I prevailed upon the girl to accept him. She was repeatedly heard to say that she felt no inclination for his company, but I objected that I could not with any regard to myself keep her at home, nor with any regard to her own welfare, entrust her person to herself. “You want then” said the girl, with an air which struck me, “You want then to turn me out of the house, and to chain me to that man”?—“Be it so,” added the girl,—after a pause— “But you shall one day repent of it.” Witnesses were now procured, a contract was passed, and she was married. The girl received with her own clothes and trinkets, some small presents, and a purse of three hundred rupees; and she was carried away by her husband. But what is singular she was bathed in tears, and all the women of the house were weeping likewise; and although such a circumstance is always part of the etiquette on such occasions, there was now an air of sincerity which greatly affected me.

A month had not elapsed, when she found means to send me complaints, and to wish herself dead: this was her expression; and there were many others. In two months more, the girl in a dark rainy night presented herself at my door; and I was astonished to find her in my house again. I informed her that I had divested myself by a public writing of every right over her person; that she was another man’s wife; and that my interfering in their quarrels, would neither do her good, nor redound to my honour. She fell a weeping, and complained that her husband, an antiphysician professed (as are most Moguls), passed his time in a company of non-conformists, and had besides gamed away her little dowry; so that she sometimes suffered for want of necessaries, the government being in arrears to him by full nine months. The unfortunate girl’s case was truly affecting; and her tears—and her protestations, that she would jump into a well (and she attempted it) rather than return to him, would have melted a statue of stone, and puzzled a man of sense. At last, after three days’ deliberation, I hit upon a party, which I prevailed upon her to admit; for her inexperience was such, that she thought she could live securely in my house: I hired a garry or a covered coach in a distant part of the town, and sometime before day-break I had her conveyed thither in a hamper, after having, as I thought, attended to her necessities, by putting in her hands a draught of two hundred rupees upon Benares; and provided for her safety by recommending her to an old man who had orders to see her landed in that city. I likewise contrived to get her escorted as far as one day’s journey from Lucknow. We parted with tears on both sides; and she was seen safe at twelve cosses distance. Seven days after, as I was getting out of my house at day-break to take an airing, I perceived a bag close to my door; and on my ordering one of my people to see what it could be, I went to look at it myself, and the first object that caught my sight, was an arm with a mole and an elegant hand, on a small finger of which I soon recollected a ring made of hair and gold wire. There was no standing such a spectacle. I returned into the house, and my troubled imagination made me see in the hall, right before me, the girl in tears, and saying: “be it so—but you shall repent.”

Few weeks had elapsed after this event, when I received intelligence that Governor Hastings was going to depart for Europe: this circumstance, to which he seemed to have been preparing our hearts,^* completed the unhinging of my mind, as if by some unexpected stroke. That Gentleman had been one of my oldest acquaintances among the English: I had conceived an affection for his person so early as twenty-five years ago; and he had proved in the sequel, the principal author of my well-being: his quitting India at a time when I was yearly losing some of my friends by their departure for Europe, or by death; and when my mind, affected by these discouraging losses, and impressed with the thoughts of that ill-fated girl, wanted some potent relief, became a calamity that overwhelmed all my faculties. Some people observed that I was talking to his picture, a picture of striking likeness, by the inimitable Zophanii. I was sensible myself that some strange alteration had taken place within me, and I was thinking how to make a diversion to so much accumulated sorrow, when my good fortune interposed.

On my going into one of the Navvab’s seats, an old woman, among other articles of sale, offered me some broken leaves of a decayed book, in which the author talked with encomiums of the English Parliament in Europe, and with some asperity of the English Government in Bengal. A Persian discourse upon English Politics! strange indeed! I took the broken leaves, and perused some of them in the Garden; and the style, as well as the matter, having awakened my curiosity, I seized on this opportunity to afford some relief to my wearied mind. I resolved to translate it, in order to shew the author’s opinions to a couple of friends; but on translating, I found that I had in hand only some broken leaves of a second volume, and that the first and third were wanting; and these I found at Moorshoodabad, on my soon returning to Bengal. My views by this time had been greatly enlarged by the perusal of my author; and after having lightly thought of translating some parts of his book, merely as an object of curiosity, but especially as a resource against grief and deep felt sorrow, I resolved to translate the whole of it, as a matter of honor and benefit, being then intent on sending two of my children to England, and anxious to add something to an independent fund which I wished to establish for their education. Shall I end the phrase? I translate it now as a matter of information, which it is incumbent upon me to impart to my adopted Countrymen (the English); and as a warning which I owe to their prosperity. Having lived or strolled full five and-twenty years among them; being so far accustomed to their language, that I cannot, for want of practice, write any other so fluently; having been this long series of years an admirer of their language and history; and being indebted to their national munificence, as well as to their private partiality, for the little competency upon which I now subsist; the transition is but natural, (and this is but a very small merit, if any at all) from such a set of sentiments to such another, as would render me a well-wisher to their government and a friend to their prosperity: my own welfare has flowed from theirs, and even now does flow from it.

The general turn of the English individuals in India, seems to be a thorough contempt for the Indians (as a national body). It is taken to be no better than a dead stock, that may be worked upon without much consideration, and at pleasure: But beware! that national body is only motionless, but neither insensible, nor dead....There runs throughout our author’s narrative, a subterraneous vein of national resentment, which emits vapours now and then, and which his occasional encomiums of the English, can neither conceal nor even palliate; and yet he is himself but a voice that has spoken among a million of others that could speak, but are silent: Nor have signs of this national sullenness been wanting these sixteen years. Living myself in the centre of Moorshoodabad; wearing an Hindostany dress, and making a practice in the evening to walk the streets with only a servant, either to listen to, or to mix with, any company I meet with either there or in the market place; I necessarily get a variety of information, which is often out of the power, and always out of the way, of any other European: for an example of this, I shall appeal to the testimony of Mr. William Wroughton, now Chief at Dacca, a gentleman, to whose person and abilities, no man in Bengal will object. Full fifteen days before government had received any official account of that calamitous event, I wrote him an affecting note about the ferment actually caused in the city of Moorshoodabad, by the defeat at Vargam near Poonah; and expressed a wish that government might receive an early notice of it.

I hope it is admitted on all hands, that small accidental stories, and unpremeditated expressions on an important event, will better point out the national turn of mind, however dormant, than any professed reasoning. The unfortunate affair at Benares with Chëyt-Sing, was repeatedly reported at Moorshoodabad with such woeful circumstances, as seemed to partage the whole Nation:^* numbers were deeply affected (and to be affected for an European governor, or indeed for any European at all, is a very novel matter in India) and they used to say: “Pity! a great pity! the father of the Hindostanies is gone,— we shall never see such another man.” But others, and this was the majority, left the person out of the question; and minded only the crisis. “What! are we not men as well as Chëyt-Sing’s People? and what could prevent me from giving a slap to one or two of his chairmen? (the Governor’s) they would have dropped his palanquin, as by a signal, and any man could have killed him with ease. I saw him at Barwa:^† he had not an armed man by him; and his chairmen were but a dozen of people; and this would have at once produced a revolution—You talk to me of the Brigade at Behrampore; it is a name only—there are not two thousand men in it; and a full half of them will desert on hearing of his death— well, Sir, and the other half? well, the other half—are they not Hindostanies? and at all events we are such multitudes here—with each a brick-bat in our hands, we could knock them down to a man.” These and the like expressions I heard at that very time in one of the best companies in Moorshoodabad.

Two days after, as a Regiment of Sepoys on its way to Chunar-ghur, was marching through the City at day-break, I went out, and was standing to see it pass by, the Regiment halted; and a few men from the centre ran into a dark lane, and laid hold of a hen and some roots: the people screamed. “Do not make so much noise,” said one of the men in his Bodjpooria Idiom;^* “we go to-day with the Frenghees, but we are all servants (tenants) to Chëyt-Sing, and may come back to-morrow with him; and then the question will be not about your roots, but about your wives and daughters.” The street, although the main thorough-fare, could admit but six men in front, and there had been two halts more, in which time I had opportunities of hearing such suspicious words and expressions, that I resolved to write a letter to Colonel Ironside on that subject. But two days having been accidentally spent in determining upon the expediency or propriety of the letter, I thought it better to take counsel from time itself, and I went to pay my respects to that Commander who kept me to dinner. He had a great deal of task with me: “I find no great harm,” said the Colonel, “That now and then, a Governor, with a couple of Colonels or two should make way for others; but what gives me concern is, to hear that we are not liked in the city, and that some disaffection has crept amongst our own Sepahees.” Finding the man upon the right way, I thought it better to drop my own information as it might produce a counter order to the regiment, with some other serious inconveniencies.

What has been just said may serve for a specimen of the turn of genius of the people of Moorshoodabad at that time. Here is a specimen of the temper of the inhabitants of Benares at that critical moment: “Kill that man,” said a young Mogul to Mirza-Saadet-Ally, as they were both marching to Chunar-ghur.—“Kill that man: he is only with another Frenghee in the field yonder, flying for his life; say but one word, and four of us shall go and dispatch them both, and bring you his head; and after that, march down from hence to the very gates of Calcutta, There is not one man in arms from hence to Moorshoodabad, or if there be any, on seeing the head, they will all desert to you; all the Zemindars will join you with a whistle; this day two months I will salute you Lord of Bengal—one word,—say but one word.—Has any amongst you,” said the Mirza, looking to the right and left—“Has any one of you a lancet about him? No,” answered a voice: “A pen-knife? a penknife?” replied another, “We? No, to be sure.” “A sharp pishcabz or poniard?” “Yes;—what for, pray?” “Only to let some blood from that man instantly: Do not you see that he is in a high fever? Man, you are very ill certainly; get yourself blooded, or go to the Ganges yonder, and take several plunges, until you are thoroughly cooled and cured: The sun indeed is sultry.”

After so strange an anecdote, (and I have heard of twenty more such stories) the reader has a right to ask me my voucher, as I was not present myself. Here it is: The man himself had been an acquaintance of mine about ten years ago at Moorshoodabad, where I used to make him dine with me sometimes, giving him plenty of liquor, whereas I never drink any myself. As he was a handsome young fellow, and in high favour with some Ladies, he, when once in his cups, used not only to mention their names at length, (the very thing for which I sought his company) but he had such a knack at mimicking their particular tones of voices, and some other particulars in a day of engagement, as would have raised a horse-laugh in a dead man. As I was just landed at Benares, and examining the sculptures in a famous Gentoo chapel, in Sevalem, (the very critical spot where the tragedy had been acted but a year before, and where Saadet-Ally himself lived) the man perceived me and came down; and I found that he was in the Prince’s service at a hundred rupees per month, on condition of furnishing four horsemen more at fifty rupees each. He invited me to see his lodgings, a genteel seat, full of sculptures; and, to oblige him, I carried two bottles of liqueurs. As soon as the man was a little heated; he became talkative, and informed me himself of his conversation with Mirza-Saadet-Ally, and of some very curious particulars of the then temper of the citizens of Benares, as well as of the neighbouring Zemindars.

On quitting my drunken Mogul, I went to a large stone Caravan-Sera, where I took up my quarters, waiting for my baggage, when in comes my old toothless broker—“Talvar Khoob Chelaw,” said the man for all salute, and with as emphatical a gesture and tone of voice, as if the massacre had happened but the day before. “The Sabre has worked well,” said again the worthless blockhead, without minding the reprimand I gave him, for his making such a mighty matter of a couple of hundred men cut down by multitudes, whilst they were either preparing their meat or taking their afternoon nap, without any one of them having so much as a ball to his musquet. “And suppose they should have had” broke out the wretch in fury, “Ten Thousands would have been pouring upon them, instead of Ten Hundreds; and the whole city would have risen upon the Frenghees and their adherents.”

I could fill a volume of such and the like stories, either from ny own knowledge or from hearsay. But this is not all: the man (I mean the Mogul,) had been so imprudent in his cups, as to banter Saadet upon his faintness of heart, and the latter having attempted to see the other’s wife, they parted upon bad terms together; so that the man lost his horses as well as his appointment. He came to Lucknow, took service with Assef-ed-doülah, the prince of the country, fell into a course of drinking and gaming, and in one unlucky day, gamed away both his wife and horse, and that too, to a man he was jealous of; insomuch that, rather than submit to the latter for a sum of four hundred rupees, he applied to me; and I took his bond, his horse, and his wife, which remained with me a couple of months. The latter had been a famous singer and an elegant dancer at Benares; and so esteemed by her troop, that but for Saadet-Ally’s interest and support he would have never been able to have carried her away. She was a woman of an agreeable person and much sense; and she not only confirmed to me the above story, but mentioned some other matters, which shew that the disaffection to the English had risen at once to a height all over the country, and amongst the principal men that frequented Saadet-Ally’s court. Two months after, the man came to me wounded, and brought me three hundred and twenty rupees, and I returned him his bond, horse, and wife.

The inference to be drawn from these sentiments of the people at large, is now known in Europe; and some persons of Bengal, to the number of eight or ten, may have at that time suspected the disaffection of the natives; but I had opportunities of knowing it several years before; when about the year 1778, I made application to Mr. B. for his interest, as I intended to obtain the office of Provincial Fodjdar of Moorshoodabad. In enumerating some of the qualifications necessary for a man in that station, I chanced to mention an open table; and I added, that as the emoluments of such an office could not afford the expense, I would endeavour to find it in my own private purse, as a political engine of great use. I was going on with my harangue, whilst we were walking towards the tea-table, through a dark hall, when at the word political engine, I observed the gentleman turn his head to the right, and endeavour, but in vain, to stifle a burst of laughter; the Ladies in the room prevented my descanting any more upon that new political engine. Surely a man of so much genius and knowledge, was not to be informed, that in a populous capital, the ambassador, who, being abstemious himself, can give entertainments oftenest, is always the best informed. By the same rule, an open table for a dozen of persons, and an exhibition of fine dancers once a week, ought to be two important parts of the politics of a Fodjdar of such a city in time of war: these will attract successively all the company good or bad in the city: men naturally unbend their minds and fall off their guard in such assemblies of pleasure; and if he be an intelligent man himself, and by all means an abstemious one, and also heartily mixes in conversation, he will learn more in one week’s time with an open table, than fifty harcaras or spies could tell him in six months. Mr. B. seated at the top of a towering lofty tree, could descry from afar the elephants and rhinoceroses that came to tear off some branches of the tree, and the tigers and bears that wanted to climb up to it: In the humble station in which I moved, close to the trunk, I was too low to discover any thing of those argument; and a recollection partly pleasing, and partly painful, never fails to inform me internally, that after an intercourse of five-and-twenty years, those strangers are become my only countrymen; that yourself, honorable Sir, are my oldest acquaintance amongst those countrymen, and, moreover, my partial and mumificent patron; and that, if instead of shining in the world as the Chatham of the East, it had been your fate to have moved only in an humble station, you would have been my bosom-friend.

It has been a standing rule hitherto with me, honorable Sir, never to take a personal leave of my friends. But many are the alterations occasioned in me by your departure; and it is not without a sense of jealousy, I see Colonel Martine^\(3\) hurrying down to bid you his last farewell. Twice have I attempted to return to Europe, and twice have I been obliged to come back after having lost every thing; so that ten years ago, I had sat myself down with a resolution to listen to the voice of Providence, and to end my days in India. But India is become a dreary waste for me now; and I am now preparing to quit it for the third time, were it but to get rid of that emptyness which everywhere surrounds me.

I have known your person, honorable Sir, these five-and-twenty years. The life of dispute and contention to which you have been doomed this longwhile, cannot have altered the original sensibility of your heart. Receive then, honorable Sir, an offering worthy of it. This letter, this artless, disorderly letter has been in many a spot bedewed by the tear of affection, and more than once interrupted by the sob of regret, and the scream of deep-felt woe.

man that tells his friend, “get upon my Horse, and fly; I will stand alone at the door of your tent and fight myself out against these armed men that are coming for you: I will be cut down at last undoubtedly; but you shall gain half an hour’s distance; and this will save you, farewell”...the man does as he says, and is cut down; but his friend distances his pursuers and escapes unhurt. What shall we say of a woman, a delicate Princess of the imperial blood, who possibly had never heard the report of a musquet? her quarters, somewhat asunder from the main army, are attacked by a superior force: the troops placed for her guard are going to be overpowered: in that critical, trying moment, this delicate Princess turns out an heroine at once; she flings away her mask and veil, gets upon a war-elephant, pushes on to the enemies, kills and wounds people to the right and left with her arrows, and repeatedly cries aloud: “If you behave like women, I declare to you that women shall behave like men.”

Look yonder at that inactive, incapable, effeminate Coran-Writer; he is at this moment mightily taken up with admiring flights of pigeons; and he has been admiring them these twenty years past some thousands of times. Would you suspect him to-day to be the self-identical man, who contrived and executed that heroical retreat of his, through the middle of ten thousand men that had broken into his house, and were actually firing at him from the top of the walls? he contrives and executes that retreat through a whole army, himself the sixteenth: he executes it, like a rough determined Grenadier, killing and wounding five or six men to the right and left: fifty times turning about upon his pursuers, and fifty times pushing forward only to gain some respite, in order to turn about again fifty times more: his numbers at last are reduced to six men; spent with the exertions of the retreat and the fatigue of the way, he is going to be overpowered: “Prince, cries a young man of twenty-two, your life is destined to procure a subsistence to thousands and ten thousands; but mine is only that of an individual: Run forwards and gain a couple of hundred yards: I undertake meanwhile to bring our pursuers to a stand.”...This young man does as he says, and is overpowered and cut down; but meanwhile the Prince distances his pursuers, and escapes himself the fifth. This Prince is no other than Shah-Alum himself, the reigning Emperor of Hindostan.

But all this, however, seems to be greatly inferior to Aly-Verdy-Khan’s retreat from Midnapore to Catwa, for the space of seven days, through a miry country, under incessant showers of rain, with no bed for any man in the army but the bare ground, no covering but the Canopy of heaven, and no food but field-grass and tree-leaves. History records but two retreats to my remembrance: that of the ten thousand, which implies contradictions and improbabilities without number, and bears evident marks of being a romance, like the life of Cyrus; and the other, that of Marechal de Bellisle from Prague. Both the one and the other were conducted over a mountainous tract of Land; and both armies were never overtaken, but partially. Bellisle in particular had stolen a march on the enemy, and was never attacked, but by his light Cavalry. But Aly-Verdi-Khan’s retreat was over a flat ground, and over boundless plains, under a perpetual series of engagements, and under all the disadvantages which we have just mentioned, and which may be seen at length in our author.

The Indians then have been a more dangerous nation than they seem to be now: They may be in a slumber; but they may awake, and they deserve a more watchful eye than the English Government seems to think; our author says, a more winning deportment, and a more caressing hand, than seems to be the genius and turn of mind of their conquerors.

After having taken so much liberty with the public, as to differ from it on the opinion that ought to be entertained of the Indians; and presumed so far upon the patience of my readers, as to have talked so much of myself, it may be expected I should say something of my author; his matter is certainly novel, there being no other history extant on that subject in any language; and as such, it cannot fail to please, at a time when all Britain is intent upon the transactions in the East: he will, however, be found to speak for himself abundantly: he speaks of himself, of his family, of his connections, of his own private concerns, in so many places of his history, that he has, without designing it, delineated the features of his own mind; he appears almost everywhere, a sensible, well informed, grave, sincere man; his style is free enough from those blemishes which would give offence in Europe, and which characterise all Eastern productions: I mean metaphors and allegories without end, and antitheses without number, with a greater attention to the jingling of a cadenced prose, than to the clearness of the sense, or the accuracy of the diction. He performs exactly enough the promise made in his preface, of his intending to recount in a plain unornamented style; and he appears, in general to be an honest man, and a zealous patriot; but should any rigorous reader take offence at some defects which are to be seen in his history, and which ought to be attributed rather to the writer’s education, country, and age, his severity would be infallibly disarmed on perusing the following passage, which I shall transcribe whole.

After having recounted the unjust death of two illustrious brothers, inhumanly hacked to pieces by Seradj-ed-döwlah’s orders, and in his presence, he goes on in these words: “The innocent blood spilled on that occasion, proved to be as fertile as that of Siävosh of old: It produced a series of events that proved fatal to that power and dominion, which Aly-Verdi-Khan had been rearing with so much toil: It lighted up a blind fire, which commenced emitting smoke soon after these two murders had been perpetrated; and, which breaking out in flames at last, destroyed, in its progress, all that numerous family; and extending its ravages far and wide, consumed every thing in those once happy regions of Bengal, and prostrated and overwhelmed totally those rich provinces, which it has reduced to heap of ashes and yet smoaking coals: It verified that tremendous sentence, once revealed to the Prince of Messengers: So shalt thou have done, and so shalt thou receive.”

“After that unhappy transaction, Aly-Verdi-Khan returned to his capital, and his son-in-law, Sayd-ahmed-qhan, took the road of Poorniah; but the latter was uneasy in his mind, and thoughtful, at what he had seen and heard lately; and as this had put an end to all the confidence which he had hitherto reposed in his uncle and his nephew, he resolved, henceforward, to spare nothing that might secure himself in his post; and it is from that very time, that an avenging providence commenced providing materials for its future exertions. But, as it is the faithful historian’s duty to bring to light whatever he knows with certitude, I shall take the liberty to assemble such events as are come to my knowledge, and to speak of them precisely as they have happened, without being biased by either envy or love, and without flattering either side or party. I repose so much confidence in the candor and equity of my generous readers, as to flatter myself, that without suffering their minds to be darkened by the dust of discontent, they shall abate in behalf of the poor man (me), something of the punctilious delicacy of their taste; and that they shall overlook all the blemishes of this history, in favour of its sincerity and exactitude: I flatter myself, I say, that they shall cover the writer with the cloak of forbearance, should they judge the writing itself unworthy of their praise.”

After an harangue so affecting, it is difficult to judge the author with any severity: If then, I have been obliged to speak of some blemishes of his history, it is because I felt that they might disgust European readers, little accustomed to put a difference between the defects of the composition itself, and those which are incident to the writer’s education, language and country; and likewise because I have been obliged to account for some slight alterations and additions into which I have been occasionally drawn, in order to adopt my narrative to the prejudices and particular taste of my readers; and it is in that view, that I shall touch upon certain observations, which seem particularly to be of the translator’s province, how faulty and inadequate soever his translation may prove.

All the Eastern Authors, at least those I have seen, know nothing of transitions, that is, of that art, which by the means of one or two phrases that look either way, connects two separate subjects, and serves as a bridge of communication to cross over from one to the other. They seem to be strangers to that art; so that the reader at every new subject, is stopped short, to be ferried over by a boat. Our author, like every one of them, passes from one subject to another, with an oo, that is, the particle and: From the Afghan War, to the affairs of Bengal. But here I have some small resource against so sudden, and so abrupt a change of hands: I can say, and I have said: Matters were not so prosperous in Bengal:—Let us now resume the affairs of Bengal:—The course of our history requires that we should revert to the affairs of the capital:—It is to be wished we could speak with as much precision of the affairs of the Decan;—and these little additions will answer some purpose, and shall be forgiven me, I hope, by the public; but how to manage with a man, who often interrupts the narrative of public affairs, to talk of himself, of his brother, Naky-aly-khan, of his Djaghir or Landed Estate, of his glorious Mother, whose shadow may long remain stretched over her son, the poor man,—&c. &c. Who, after having mentioned with wonder, how Governor Hastings conceived and executed the project of sending two English armies across the whole continent of India, and was very nearly doing with Poonah, what some others had done with Moorshoodabad and Lucknow, gives a spring at once, jumps over my head, and then turns about, to tell me abruptly, and the poor man went to Calcutta, had some interviews with the Navvab Djeladet-djung, the valiant, Governor Hushtin, and spoke to him of his Djaghir. I have no resource against such an unexpected leap; I am obliged to have resource to some awkward addition of my own, and to bring the new subject about by some such words as these: It was in those days of trouble and anxiety that I was obliged to repair to Calcutta; and to address the Governor upon my Djaghir. He said, he said, and he said, are the only words the Eastern Writers make use of, to repeat a dialogue, even a most animated one; nor were the Greeks and Latins much behind them in that particular, the Poets especially, although to make us some amends probably, they never fail to inform us that their hero spoke with his mouth.^* No European reader now will bear such a repitition of the words; he said, and I am obliged to enliven the dialogue by intermixing it with the following expressions, so common in an European conversation: He answered—his antagonist rejoined. No, said he, with a surprise: you ought, replied the other with a smile.

Mahmed-yar, an officer of determined courage, was sent with two thousand men to intercept a convoy of treasure: He marches over a tract of seventy-two cosses, in six and thirty hours, overtakes the convoy with only seventy men, and had defeated the escort, and seized the money, by the time his troops are joining him by scores. Our author adds, with one and the same breath, and the Navvab was displeased with him, and he quitted the service. Here the narrative seems to be interrupted by some chasm; and I am obliged to fill it up by adding: “Such an important service, instead of making his fortune, ruined him in the Prince’s mind: He took umbrage at so daring a character: A coolness ensued; and the man disgusted, quitted the service.”

Such and the like indispensible liberties, although taken with ever so sparing a hand, shall possibly surprise those gentlemen employed at the public offices of Calcutta, in translating Persian Letters. I acknowledge with them, that Letters connected with twenty matters actually passing in review, may bear, nay often require, such a dry, scrupulous translation, where even the turn of the phrase is obligatory; but in a narration of any length, in an history of the times, I am convinced that it could not answer; and I hope that they shall upon due consideration, indulge me with their connivance, if not favour me with their approbation.

I had at first translated about a hundred pages of my author, (the last part of his first volume) in that scrupulous manner; and the translation went pretty easily down with me on my perusing it by a couple of pages at a time, just as I translated it—but when I came to read the whole, I acknowledge I found myself tired, sick, of my performance, jaded to death, and unable to drag my attention to the twentieth page; and if this has been the case with myself, how could I pretend to engage the attention of my readers? I have been obliged therefore to set up a method of my own: I read a few pages of the original in the evening, thought the whole of them in English a couple of hours after; and the next morning chewed the cud over, by reading and translating phrase after phrase; sometimes connecting by one or two words what seemed disjointed, and then parting what I thought confused; and not seldom pruning what appeared too European in my translation, or else paring what seemed to step aside from the text. I acknowledge, indeed, that I might have read a whole page, and after having thought it in English, might have couched it down in one and the same breath; but this would have proved to be my own style, of which the public eares little, and not the style of Sëyd-Gh8lam-hussëin-khan. Upon the whole then, I can assure the public that this translation, awkward, and inadequate as it shall probably come out to be, is in general a faithful and a literal one.

And here it becomes proper to inform the reader, of some other deviations from the letter of my author, to which, I have thought myself obliged. The author, for instance, speaks first of Mahmed-amin, then of Saader-khan, a few pages after of Burhan-el-mulk, lastly of Burhan-el-mulk-saadet-khan; and yet it is one and the same man. At the seige of Bedjapoor by Aoreng-zib, his eldest son, Soltan-müazzem, is called within the short period of six pages, Shah-aalum, then Soltan-mahommed-müazzem, then Mahommed-müazzem, then Bahadyr-shah, then Soltan-mahommed-bahadyr-shah, although this prince was not complimented with the title of Bahadyr-shah, but several years after, when he ascended the throne. Such a succession of names on the same man occasions in the reader’s idea, still more confusion than those titles of Earl and Duke of such and such country, cause in the English history, where you see the same title, or if you will, the same name, borne successively by noblemen that had not a foot of land in those countries, and were of different, and sometimes of inimical families. But yet, in the English history, the same man carries the same title or name, throughout a whole reign, or even farther, whereas, here the self-same man passing and repassing before you, round and round with a number of new personages, and at each time with a new mask and in different dress; you come at last to mistake and confound the indentity of his person.^* To remedy that confusion, which has so much puzzled me at times, I have made it a point to stick invariably to the first name under which I see a man, and to carry him under that name throughout his whole history. But even this rule, general as I have made it, has suffered some deviations, which I have thought to be unavoidable: for instance, there is no mentioning a Mirza-djeladdeen-häider, still less a Mirza-mehmedor or a Mirza-shah-cooly-khan: for the English know nothing, but of Sudjah-ed-döulah, and nothing but of Seradj-ed- döulah. Nevertheless such is my hard case, that although I have mentioned this, as an exception to my rule, I have been obliged to except upon the exception itself: I have been obliged amongst the several successive names of one and the same person, to attend to that which the English were most accustomed to; for instance, in my original, Nassyr-ed-döulah, Viceroy of Decan, is the name generally used: it is that known in the Decan and in Hindostan; but the English are accustomed to Nassyr-djung; Mehabet-djung is the name generally used in Bengal.—But the English never heard but of Aly-verdy-khan.— By the same rule Alemghir is constantly Aoreng-zib with me, Burham-el-mulk is constantly Saadet-khan; nor do I ever part with Sultan-müazzem, but when himself, on ascending his throne, parts with that name to adopt that of Bahadyr-shah.

Long, very long as is this address, I am obliged to add two remarks more: were an enlightened foreigner to read a translation of some of those excellent books published in such numbers by the English, or of the debates in Parliament, or of the protests of the House of Lords, he would be apt to believe, that the language spoken by such a nation of thinkers-born, must needs be the most regular language that ever was spoken by the mouth of man; and yet on learning it himself, he would find that this language of theirs, beautiful, nervous, energetic, abundant, versatile and commodious, as it is, is nevertheless inconsequent: the grammar of such a nation is inconsequent; and their alphabet is still more inconsequent; and although the alphabet of all the nations which have adopted the Roman letters, is more or less liable to the same imputation, yet I cannot help believing that the English alphabet is nearly intractable. I have been therefore obliged to write all the Oriental names of this history in the Italian alphabet, or if you will the Scotish alphabet, as the sound of its letters is less variable, and it requires the fewer letters for one word.

My second observation is on those numerous poetical quotations, with which our author abounds, as well as all the Oriental writers. When I compare those inimitable translations of the Æneid, and of the Iliad, made by the English, with those prose tanslations published by the French; and I consider what a figure the latter never fail to cut when set against the former, I become convinced at once, that nothing but poetry ought to translate poetry; and that our author’s Persian verses ought to have been translated by English verses at least, if not by English poetry.—But here I found myself out of my depth at once: and although, sometimes an English verse or two, would drop from my pen, when I least thought of it; I found by a woeful experience, that the muses would not come near me, when I was most inclined to court their company.—Over-ruled by the sense, and brow-beaten by the quantity, as well as endlessly bullied by the rhyme, I became sick of my task: I became tired of cudgelling refractory word into its place, and of dragging a rhyme by the hair; and I have therefore translated in prose all the verses of my author: the more so, as I was afraid of affording a handle against the genuineness of the translation, by applying for assistance to a better versificator than myself; nor was this apprehension groundless; for an ingenious friend having chanced to observe, that I could hardly say in two lines what the author had said in one; surmised moreover, that I must have been assisted or corrected by some English hand.— Such a remark having given much offence to my sincerity, or if you will, to my vanity; and being myself on the other hand, so very proud of my acquisitions in the English language, I beg leave to declare, that the awkward and uncouth gown, in which I take the liberty to come forward, and to make my respectful bow to the public, is entirely of my own cutting and stiching. Nor am I afraid, that those, to whom I have the honor to be known these many years, both in London and in Bengal, shall ever refuse their full assent to the veracity of my assertion.

NOTA-MANUS.

Calcutta, 2nd November, 1786.

^* THANKS without measure, and praises founded on eternity, ought to be sprinkled over the magnificent and exalted Court of the Just One without equal, since the multifarious system of worlds, with a tongue both ideal and audible, warbles melodiously a confession of his unity in endless duration and from primeval origin; and the many-coloured variety of ages, in all the vicissitudes of places and limits, and the interchange of night and day, indicates and pronounces on the broad diploma of his greatness, the stupendous diversity of events and revolutions. Salutations also from eternal time without beginning to eternal time without end, are justly due to that splendid present from heaven, viz., the Chief of Prophets, and to the family and companions^† of that noble being, the final cause of existence, and the means of connecting the sustenance in this world, and a provision for the other: To him and to them be grace and peace to the day of judgment and consternation!

It is agreed and confessed amongst those that look on the register of time, and the vicissitudes of days and nights, that books of history, and a review of the different stations and various successions of men are of manifold conveniency, and produce an infinity of advantages, as if the inspection of the historical page afforded an insight into the phenomena of the Almighty Artist’s full powers, and a glimpse into the most glorious part of the Creator’s performance. It affords information likewise about the several races of mankind, and an insight into the institutions and good qualities of their principal leaders, as well as in the actions of their followers, and in the imitative motions of those that have copied those actors of so exalted a stage. On the other hand, men, by such an inspection of the meanness of insolence, and of the turpitude of oppression, are often put upon their guard, and often reclaimed from their shameful conduct: All truths so well known to the intelligent and virtuous, and so universally admitted amongst those endowed with experience and penetration, that it would be needless to insist upon them, It is, therefore, in that view, that this most defective of mankind, and this humblest individual in the creation, namely, Gh8lam-hossein, son to Hedäiet-aly-khan, grandson to Sëid-aalim-ollah, and great-grandson to Sëyd-faïz-ollah, the Tebätebaite, of the race of Hassen,^* (on all whom may God’s mercy rest for ever. through the merits of his Prophet, and of his Saint,^† has thought proper, in the victorious month of Sufur, of the year 1194 of the retreat of the Prophet, (on whom, as well as on his offspring, be salutation and grace for ever!) to undertake this work, his intention being to furnish to some intelligent man the means of giving the public at some distant time hereafter, an idea of the preceding reigns; and to prevent his being stopped short, as by a chasm, on discovering that links are wanting from the chain of past events: for it is certain, that to this day no one has thought of filling up the chasm, by writing the history of India since Aoreng-zib’s demise. It is then, to put such a clue in his power, that I have imposed on myself this task: trusting therefore to my personal knowledge, and to what I have been gathering from persons of eminent rank and credit, I have strung the whole together in a plain unornamented style, where my errors shall be the more excusable, as I cite perpetually my authorities; and by God’s blessing, I have entitled it Sëir Mutaqherin (View of Modern Times), as containing the whole series of events, from the year 1118, to the year 1195, since the venerable flight of the last and chief of messengers, down to the present days.

THE public has been already informed, at the latter end of the preface, that the Italian or rather the Scottish Alphabet has been made use in this work to write the oriental names; but as some objections have been made to so general a definitionh it has been thought proper to give here the particulars of it.

All the vowels are to be pronounced in the Italian or Scottish way; but as there are numberless places where the sound of the English oo is preceded by an o, and three such os might look strange and would infallibly mislead the Reader, the figure 8, that is, the Greeck 8, has been used to signify the sound intended by the double o. It is thus the word Seradj-ed-do’8lah is written, or thus Seradj-ed-do’ulah, the Acute Accent or the double dots, … marking the letter on which the Emphasis is to fall, and the voice to be raised. However, the work having been printed by several Printers, this has been disregarded by some, who have adhered to the usual spelling; so that the double o is often seen where there ought to be a Greek 8.

Qh and also kh answer exactly to the Scottish ch in Cariarach, Glenorchi; that is, that compound letter is to be pronounced like a strong h or aspiration fetched from the throat.

Gh is to be sounded everywhere as the Scottish Gh in Daughter, and even more gutturally; although in the word Djaghir and some others, in use amongst the English, it has been thought proper to follow the ordinary spelling, and of course to suffer its retaining the sound of the English gh in Moningham.

The English j in jaylor has been put after a D, because that same l in number of places bears in this work the same sound as the small i in initials. It is for that reason that we write Djaafer-qhan.

The words Ráo and Ráy are often written with two dots upon the first vowel to denote the elevation of the voice, and also to distinguish those and some other similar words, in two syllables. In general the Acute Accent, or the two dots upon a letter, denote its being to be pronounced distinctly from the preceding vowel. The word Vezir has been in some places Vizier, &c. nor have my endeavours been able to wean the Printer from that practice and some others.

But Printers have been guilty of an infinity of alterations both through chance and through wilfulness; let it be a standing rule then that all the vowels of a name are to be sounded each distinctly and in the Scottish manner.

Civil wars that follow Aoreng-zib’s demise—Bahadyr-Shah, Emperor—Djehandar-Shah, Emperor—Origin of the Syks, an order of mendicants who turn Soldiers, and found a monarchy— Feroh-Syur, Emperor—The two Séyd-Brothers, absolute disposers of the Empire—Mahmed-Shah, Emperor—Origin of the Marhatta Empire and Royal family—Invasion of Hindostan by Nadyr-Shah, alias Tahm-Asp-C8li-qhan—Ahmed-Shah, Emperor —Blinded by his Vezir—Irruption and origin of the Durranies, alias Addalies—Civil Wars—Alemghir, second, Emperor, blinded—Aliverdy-qhan, Viceroy of Bengal, becomes independent —Founds a new dynasty in Bengal; which ends in Seradj-ed-Dowla.

The Emperor Aoreng-zib, after along reign, departs this life, aged ninety-two years, having divided his dominions between his children—Civil-Wars—Azem-Shah ascends the throne—Soltan Màazzem, his eldest son, ascends the throne—Battle of Agra between the two brothers, where the second brother dies fighting valiantly—The elder brother acknowledged Emperor under the title of Bahadyr-Shah, proves very scrupulous in his word, but very feeble in his administration—Dies suddenly—Civil Wars between his children—Civil War again—Muézzeddin, the elder brother, unexpectedly victorious, ascends the throne under the title of Djehandar-Shah—Wants to promote to a Viceroyalty the brother of a dance-girl, his mistress—Is opposed by his Vezir in a very curious sarcastical speech—A rival to the Empire arises in Bengal—It is Feroh-Syur whose party is espoused by two Sèyd brothers, Viceroys of two Provinces—The Emperor sends his son to fight his Rival, by whom the young Prince is defeated—The Emperor himself defeated, flies for his life, is arrested by his Vezir, and strangled by his competitor—Feroh-Syur, Emperor—Feroh-Syur’s sanguinary executions; his mean character—Jealousies between the Emperor and the two Brothers—Singular speech of one of them in full audience— The younger appointed Viceroy of all the Decans—Religious troubles in Ahmed-abad, G8djrat, and in the Capital—Account and origin of the Sycks, an order of mendicants founded by Nanec-Shah, their Patriarch—They turn warriors and commit horrible ravages—Dà8d-qhan-Péni, a famous Afghan General, opposes the new Viceroy in Decan, and is slain in the middle of his victory—His Radjp8t consort refuses to live, opens her own belly with his poniard, dexterously extracts a child which she tenderly recommends to the by-standers, and dies unconcernedly —Death and admirable character of the old Vezir Assed-qhan, Vezir to Aoreng-zib—Feroh-Syur, who had strangled that Minister’s son, now humbles himself before him, and sends him by a person of importance a very singular message, to which the dying man returns a very curious answer, which proves Prophetic.

THE Emperor Aoreng-zib-Aalemgir,^\(1\) after having spent so great a part of his life in conquering and bringing under control the region of Decan, without being able to satisfy himself on that head, abandoned at last his expedition, and turned towards Shah-djehan-abad,^\(2\) which was the capital of the Empire of the house of Babr,^\(3\) and the glory of the cities of Hindostan: but he had no time to execute his design. He was overtaken by fate at the city of Ahmed-nagor, The Emperor Aoreng-zib departs this life. Division of his extensive dominions where, in the ninety-fourth year of his life, and the fifty-second of his reign, his venerable person was at once assaulted by a variety of diseases, that reduced him so low, that he despaired of his life.—He had then in his camp, two of the Princes, his sons, Cambaqhsh,^\(4\) the youngest, and most beloved, and Aazem-shah, who bore the character of a man of valor and abilities, and was fond of military glory. He sent immediately for the young Prince, gave him the viceroyalty of the kingdom of Bidjapoor, and bid him set out directly, with all the pomp and all the retinue of a king, recommending to him at the same time to pursue his journey by long stages, and to push forwards without stopping. The order bore that he should set out on a Tuesday, the seventeenth of Zilcaad, four hours before day-break.^\(5\) The intent of such precise instructions was to put early the young Prince out of the reach and pursuit of his elder brother, Aazem-shah. Seven days after having taken that precaution, he ordered that same Aazem-shah, his second son, to set out for his government of Malva, four hours after sun-rise, with injunctions to make short stages of about five cosses a day,^\(6\) and to stop two days at each stage, so as to march only every third day.—In giving such an order, the Emperor made him understand, that it was to put it in his power, to prevent the disorders that might happen in that country, in case of a vacancy of the throne, and meanwhile, to be at hand, to avail himself of his father’s demise, for taking possession of his inheritance. But the Emperor’s real view was, to keep so enterprising a Prince, at some distance from him, and to prevent his availing himself so far of his enfeebled state of body, as to seize and confine his person, that is, to prevent his using him just as himself had used his own father, Shah-djehan.^\(7\) But hardly had the Prince proceeded a few stages, when the Emperor fell into a state of extreme feebleness, and having lent an ear to his maker’s invitation, he answered it by the words:^\(8\) “I am ready, O lord,” and departed for eternity. It was on a Friday, the twentieth of the month, one Pahr, and three garries after day-break, which answers to five astronomical hours after sun-rise.

This intelligence reached Aazem-shah in a few hours: he hastened back to the Imperial tent which he entered on a Sunday, the twenty-ninth of the same month, about one quarter of an hour before it was dark; and the next day, two hours before sun-rise, he lifted up the imperial Coffin, and carried it a few paces on his shoulders;^\(9\) after which he sent it to Aoreng-abad. On the morning of the eighth of the next month, he ordered the imperial music to strike up;^\(10\) and on the following Wednesday, which was also the day of Sacrifice,^\(11\) he ascended the throne of his ancestors, and bent his thoughts Aazem-shah ascends the throne. on gaining the hearts of the Nobility, and on endearing his reign to his people. The next day, he took possession of the Imperial Treasures, invited to his Court the Nobility of the Province, and the absent Grandees of the Empire, and gave a public audience,^\(12\) his intention being to oblige every one, according to his rank or station. With that view, he confirmed Assed-khan in the high office of Vezir, and Zolficar-khan, the son of that minister, in that of Generalissimo of the forces. In a word, no one felt any difference from the change of Prince; and every one was left in the place which he held, or was advanced to that for which he was fit.

Meanwhile, the news of the Emperor’s illness having spread all over the Empire, every one made haste to secure himself in his post, by every means in his power. In this confusion of the times, Sultan Muäzzem, eldest son to the deceased, was then at Cab8l, a city and fortress upon the frontiers of Iran,^\(13\) where he resided as Viceroy. He is the Prince who did in fact succeed his father, under the title of Bahadyr-shah. He had with him his two younger sons, Quhodjistah-ahtar, and Resi-al-cadr; whilst his elder son, Muäzzedin, resided in M8ltan, of which he was the Governor; and his second son, Azim-ush-shan, the ablest of the four, and the object of his grand-father’s favour, resided in Bengal, of which he was the Viceroy. It appears, that the deceased Emperor intended to leave the Empire of Hindostan to his eldest son, Sultan Muäzzem; the dominions of the Decan^\(14\) to his second son, Aazem-shah, and the kingdom of Bidjapoor to his beloved Cambaqhsh, in full hopes, that those three Princes would remain satisfied with their lot, and would promote, each on his side, the welfare of the people of God; but who is the man who has not felt the torments of ambition?—and how could so experienced a Prince flatter himself, that his sons would be free from it?

Cambaqhsh, who governed Bidjapoor in full sovereignty, seemed satisfied with his lot, the more so, as Aazem-shah, to please his mother, had added another Province to his dominions, and given him leave to coin money, and to have the Qhotba pronounced in his own name:^\(15\) But matters were not so easy towards Hindostan: For Sultan Muäzzem, on hearing of his father’s illness, had set out from Cab8l, as did his second son, Azim-ush-shan, from Bengal; and both those Princes, taking what Troops and Artillery were at hand, had marched, each on his side, towards Ecber-abad, a great city, on the high road that leads to Decan. Sultan Muäzzem was on his march, when he received the news of his father’s demise. Immediately he assumed the Imperial name, and ascended the Sultan Muäzzem, eldest son of Aoreng-zib, ascends the throne as his right. throne. It was on the first Wednesday of the month of Muharem, in the year 1119, precisely at midnight, it being the critical hour pointed out by the astrologers in the sign of Leo; and after that inauguration, he wrote to his brother, Aazem-shah, “That if, satisfied with his lot of the Decan, which was a very extensive dominion, and that which their father had set apart for his portion, he did not meddle with the Empire of Hindostan, such a conduct would not fail to produce numberless benefits, and endless blessings.” This insinuation made no impression upon Aazem-shah, who trusted to his own personal merit and prowess, and made no account of his brother, to whom he answered by the well-known adage, “That is was impossible for two kings to live together upon the same throne;” and he commenced to make preparations for supporting his pretension; but which ended in nothing but what was of his own seeking.

Sultan Muäzzem was already at Lahor, where, in a few days, he was joined by Muëzzeddin, his son, who, on his father’s orders, had set out from M8ltan with what Troops and Artillery he could bring together on so short a warning. There he was admitted to the honour of kissing his father’s feet, after which he pronounced a speech in his praise, prayed for prosperity and length of days to his reign, and then followed him to Ecber-abad. Fortune seemed to favour this inauguration: For Azim-ush-shan, who had set out from Bengal with a numerous and well-appointed army, and was then on his march to Ecber-abad, hearing of a convoy of a coror of rupees,^\(16\) (being the tribute of Bengal) which the Divan or Intendant of that country was sending to the capital, he seized the whole of it, but kept it untouched, for his father’s disposal. He also laid hold of Moqhtar-qhan, the Governor of the Province of Ecber-abad, a nobleman of importance, who had given his daughter in marriage to the Prince Bidar-baqht, and was a hearty well-wisher to the cause of Aazem-shah;^\(17\) he confined that nobleman, and having seized at the same time the vast treasure, and that infinity of royal furniture, which had been deposited these many ages in the Imperial palace of that city, he bent his thoughts on increasing the strength of his party, on conciliating the minds of the inferior governors and commanders, and on gaining the hearts of the nobility and people. In this he succeeded so well, that his army as well as his party, were gaining daily accessions. But he could not prevail on the Governor of the citadel of Ecber-abad, who resolutely answered, “That at a time when the Imperial throne was disputed with slaughter and enmity, between three princes of the Imperial blood, he could not, with any propriety, deliver the fortress to any of them unless that one should have established his government; in which case, he knew too well what became him, both as subject and a servant, to mistake his duty.” With this answer he kept his fortress shut up and prepared to support a siege. The Prince thinking it inconvenient to lose any time in an affair of so much length, went on with other affairs of importance, until his father Sultan Muäzzem being arrived, he effected a junction with him; after which he made him a profound bow, prayed length of days and prosperity to his reign, and presented the precious effects and money he had had the good luck to bring together. No succour could be more welcome: for the troops which had already become clamorous for want of pay, were suffering such great hardships, that they had become dispirited; and such a timely assistance being taken for a good omen, Sultan Muäzzem, from that moment, conceived the fondest hopes on the success of his undertaking: he returned thanks to God, distributed his treasure according to the necessities of his people, and changed their past distresses into present comfort. At this very time Aazem-shah, who had only tarried a few days in the Imperial camp, to take possession of the numerous well-appointed army which he had found ready under his hand, was setting out for Ecber-abad, resolved to dispute the crown with his elder brother, whom he looked upon to be his main rival. The natural ardour of his temper being inflamed by such thoughts, he marched with so much rapidity, that he left behind most of his troops, and almost the whole of his artillery. After continual marches, he arrived at the foot of the fortress of G8aliar, where he established his head-quarters. It was on a Monday, the eleventh of the first Rebi, in the year 1119. Seven days after he advanced towards his enemy, whom he found encamped on he plains of Djadj8, close to Ecber-abad. It happened that some troops of his having advanced nearer to the enemy, had set on fire some part of Sultan Muäzzem’s head-quarters, and dispersed some cavalry. Aazym-ush-shan was himself encamped there, and the combat having grown warmer, he found himself overpowered, and he stopped short to see what Sultan Muäzzem’s fortune would operate in his behalf. This Prince, who was then on a hunting party, no sooner heard of the enemy’s being so near, Battle of Agra between the two brothers. than he flew to his son’s assistance, bringing with him his eldest son, Muëzzeddin, and his best generals with their troops; the combat was growing warm, when an event happened, which by turning the fortune of the day, was taken for a token of approbation from providence on his enterprise. At once there arose such a violent wind, as seemed to give the combatants an idea of the dreadful Ser-Ser that buried the whole tribe of Aad under the sands of Arabia;^\(18\) it blew on the back of Sultan-Muäzzem, and full in the face of Aazem-shah’s army. This last Prince having given the command of his left wing to his eldest son, Bidar-baqht, and that of his left, to his second son, Vala-dja, was marching to the enemy, having his youngest son, Aly-tebar, then a child, upon his elephant. But he had left Assed-khan, his Vezir, at the camp of G8aliar with a body of troops. As he was pushing forwards with ardour, Zulficar-khan, his generalissimo, who had also been generalissimo under Aoreng-zib, represented to him: “That as the day was so much spent, and such a violent tempest blew right in his face; and on the other hand, great part of his troops and artillery were still at a distance behind, it would not be advisable to risk a battle for a throne on such disadvantageous terms: that he thought it expedient to remain satisfied with the advantage gained over the enemy, by having burned one of his quarters, and defeated part of his cavalry; and that to-morrow, when the remainder of the troops with the artillery should have come up, it would be time then, to take in hand the bridle of prosperity, and to put the foot in the stirrup of success and fortune, in order to fall with one joint effort on an enemy already intimidated.” This speech made a strange effect. The Prince who had a high opinion of his own military character, and that of his troops, and made little account of his brother and his party, having answered by some expressions that betrayed his anger and resentment, the generalissimo, who was known for a man of much valor and much discernment, replied that since his majesty would not listen to an advice dictated by zeal and prudence, and he chose to run head-long into his own ruin, he hoped he would not find fault with him, if he took his leave of a cause that looked so ominous: The Prince, full of indignation, having rejoined by a few broken words, of bitterness and anguish, turned his face from that officer, just as fortune had now turned hers from himself; and Zulficar-khan, without further explanation, spurred his horse, and went to join his father who had been left in the camp of G8aliar.

Aazem-shah, without minding his retreat, fell on the enemy with the utmost fury; and the valorous on both sides being as eager as himself to shew their prowess, a mighty slaughter was taking place on both sides. But the wind blowing with more violence than ever, raised such clouds of dust and sand, that the field of battle was entirely darkened, the troops were blinded; and it became impossibIe to distinguish the friend from the foe. It has been assured by several persons of character who had fought in that battle, that the sand was so hot and so big, and it choked so effectually the mouths and eyes of the combatants, that no one could stand such a tempest, but by turning his head about; no arrow fallen from a bow could be distinguished at more than a only a few paces distance; and beyond a few paces it could be taken up no more. Notwithstanding all these disadvantages against themselves, the troops of Aazem-shah were gaining ground; the enemy’s army was in danger; and the fury both of officers and men was so great, that to this day this battle of Ecber-abad is renowned all over Hindostan for obstinacy and slaughter.

There was then in Aazem-shah’s army an Afghan officer, of great strength of body, and much prowess, called Munevver-khan: he was followed by five thousand men of his nation; and as he used to say that a day of battle was a wedding day for the brave, he had dressed himself in cloth of gold, and had given a similar turban to every one of his men, every one of whom was ready to shed his blood with that of the enemy. This officer having found a favourable moment, drew near Aazem-shah, and requested leave to get on horseback, in order to rush on the enemy, and shew to all the world how zealous he was for his master’s cause, and how prodigal of his blood in so noble a service. The Prince answered his request, by desiring him to remain upon the elephant he had been allotted from the imperial stables;^\(19\) and the officer mortified at the refusal, pushed at the head of his troops as far as the centre, where commanded Azim-ush-shan himself. He was opposed by Hussëin-aàly-khan, and some other officers of character, who were sons to the illustrious Séyd-abdollah-khan of Adjmir, better known under the appellation of Mïa-khan. But the enemy pushed on with so much violence, that most of those officers were slain together with their men; and Hussëin-aàly-khan himself, having received several hideous wounds, fell senseless on the ground. The enemy had lost full as many men; but Munevver-khan having exhorted the few that remained to him, pushed as far as Azim-ush-shan’s elephant, and having then in his hands one of those spears called Belem by the Indians, he ran it with so much violence against the boards of the Prince’s haödah, that it came out at the board on the opposite side; and the Prince had infallibly been killed, had he not shunned the blow, by inclining his body quite to the left. That brave man after performing such feats of prowess, fell at last among the few intrepid men that had refused to survive their heroical commander.

This bloody action cost the lives of an infinity of illustrious persons. The Prince Bidac-baqht, who commanded the left wing, fell dead, as did Valadja, his brother, a young prince who had never seen an action, and then drank up to the dregs the bitter potion presented him that day by the grim cup-bearer, death. It became necessary to announce these two losses to Aazem-shah, their father; and this unfortunate Prince, who tenderly loved his children, and had a particular affection for the eldest, fetched a deep sigh, and said: that victory and life were henceforward of no use to him. With these words he ordered his driver to carry him into the middle of the enemy’s ranks, where his haödah was so thick stuck with arrows, that one would have imagined there had rained arrows that day. He was followed by a chosen body, personally attached to him, not one of whom would leave their master. The Prince, careless of his own safety, but anxious about the royal child, Aaly-tebar, had covered him with his bucler, after having made him squat in the haödah; and he himself now remained uncovered: still he was pushing on, filling his bow incessantly: But vain were all those efforts: the day was already far spent; fortune had declared herself; and his best officers were slain, such as Terbyet-khan, Aman-ollah-khan, and Metleb-khan, with the two brothers, Munevver-khan and Khan-aalem, together with the Gentoo Princes, Radja Ram-sing and Radja Dilpet, with an infinity of their troops: in one word, his two hopeful sons were no more. Aazem-shah himself wounded by several musquet-balls, had fallen senseless in his haödah, when a wretched officer of the name of Rostem-dil-khan, having got upon that hero’s Valor and death of Aazem-shah, the second brother. elephant, was not ashamed to cut off his head. He then took the Royal child Aaly-tebar by the hand, and carried the one and the other to Sultan Muäzzem, his master. This sight made a deep impression on the Emperor: the sight of his brother’s bloody head was more than his sensibility could bear; he fetched many a deep sob, and wept bitterly. As to the royal orphan, he pressed him to his bosom, did everything to pacify him; and in the sequel, he conceived so much affection for him, that he never put any difference between him and his own children. The latter took umbrage at so much tenderness, and once they represented, and complained. But they were silenced with this answer from the Emperor’s mouth; “If your inquietude be about his being inimical to my fortune and crown, I inform you, that you are much likelier to be so yourselves than he; and that this child, in case of need, shall prove more anxious for my preservation than any of you.”

Fortune having put an end to Aazem-shah’s reign and party, his ministers and generals joined Assed-khan, the Vezir, and Zulficar-khan, the generalissimo; and went in a body to pay their homage to Sultan Muäzzem, now styled Bahadyr-shah, or the Valiant King. The Vezir and the generalissimo had got their own hands bound with a handkerchief; and it was in that condition they presented themselves, and made a profound bow: this sight affected the Emperor’s sensibility; he was seen to move from his place, and with his own hands, to set the Vezir’s hands at liberty: turning at the same time to his son, Muëzzeddin, he bid him go, and loosen the generalissimo’s hands. Not content with so much condescension, he made it a point to speak with the utmost kindness to both the father and son, especially to the former; and sending for one of his imperial suits of clothes, he ordered him to put it on directly, an honor, very seldom conferred on a subject, and which raised the old minister as high as the celestial mansions. When he saw him dressed, he did him the honor of an embrace, made him sit down in his presence, gave him the command and pay of 7,000 horses, with the grade attached to one of nine, added to all this a present of two corrors of Dams,^\(20\) and directed, that his Paleky should be admitted within the Imperial enclosure, as far as the gate of the Gh8ss8l-qhana or Bathing-place,^\(21\) (an honor granted only to Imperial Princes); and that his music might play within the Imperial precincts: As a last token of his favour, he gave him the title of Djelil-al-cadr, with the office of Vekil-M8tlac or Lieutenant-General, and absolute all over the Empire. Munaam-khan received at the same time the title of Djumlet-el-mulk,^\(22\) with the office of Supreme Vezir, and the Government of the Province of Ecber-abad, which became an annex to that office. His station in the Cachury or Office-hall, was fixed at the right hand of Assed-khan, with power to set his own seal upon all Public Papers below that of the Prime Minister’s.

After all these arrangements, the new Emperor turned his attention towards the conduct of some Gentoo Princes, and chiefly towards that of Djehi-sing, Radja of Amber, who had sided with Aazem-shah; and as his own brother, Bedji-sing, had sided with the Emperor, to whom he proved very useful, he was placed in his brother’s stead, and the latter received orders to attend at Court. Adjet-sing son of Djesvent-sing-rhator, Zemindar of Djoodeipoor, had likewise sided with Aazem-shah, and, moreover, had proved refractory and rebellious Such a conduct deserved immediate attention; and the Emperor having marched into those countries, took those two fortresses out of the hands of the hereditary Princes, and put them under the management of the Imperial Officers, after having ordered the dispossessed Zemindars to attend the Imperial Stirrup, and to live henceforward at Court. At the same time, Assed-khan was ordered to repair to the capital of the Empire, which, with its Province, was henceforward to be under his special care. And in this manner every part of the Empire was coming into order; and every heart being gained by the Emperor’s goodness, served to strengthen the throne. Unluckily, there arose a civil war between the two remaining sons of Aoreng-zib.

Prince Cambaqhsh no sooner heard of his brother’s death, than he prepared to oppose the victorious party, being of too haughty a disposition to brook submission, or even tranquillity. In vain did the new Emperor send him soothing messages, and advised him, in a mild manner, to be quiet and to live in peace. This mild pacific disposition served only to encourage Cambaqhsh; and he sent answers that breathed nothing but anger and defiance. Even these the Emperor would have over looked; but finding himself urged and reproached by his own sons, he resolved to oppose Cambaqhsh. With that view, he set out at half an hour before midnight, being on Monday, the seventeenth of Shaaban, in the year 1119, and marched towards Bidjapoor, by the way of Fateh-poor and Adjmir. The third of Zilcad of the ensuing year, being a Wednesday, the two armies fought in the environs of Haiderabad, of which city Cambaqhsh had made himself master. After repeated attacks, and much slaughter, Bahadyr-shah’s army drove the enemy out of the field of battle, and remained victorious. This happened at midnight, and by this time, most of those that were personally attached to Cambaqhsh being slain, the rest betook themselves to flight, leaving a complete victory to the enemy. The Prince himself, after exhibiting several feats of royal prowess, and receiving several mortal wounds, had fallen senseless on the ground, with hardly any other sign of life, than a faint respiration. It was in that condition that the victorious found him. He was immediately raised, placed upon an elephant with his children, and sent to the Emperor. On notice of this, the Emperor sent his eldest son, Muëzzeddin, with orders to shew him every mark of honor and respect; and on the wounded Prince being arrived, he directed he should be lodged in a retired tent, within the Imperial enclosure; and he went on foot to pay him a visit. On discovering his body, he fetched a deep sob, and said, “I have never wished to see you in that condition.” The Prince raising with pain his dying eyes, answered, “nor did I ever wish to see you in that condition, neither,” and expired. The Emperor exceedingly affected by such a sight, retired to his own apartment, taking with him the young orphans, his nephews. He ordered them to be educated in the same manner, as he had done Aaly-tebar; and he made it a point always to lend a deaf ear to the repeated remonstrances and bitter reproaches of his own children.

This battle having rendered Bahadyr-shah master of all the Decan, as well as put an end to all competition with respect to Hindostan; and his authority being now firmly established, he conceived that this was the time to introduce some changes which he had in his mind. One day he represented, in a mild Remarkable delicacy of the Emperor about his own word. tone of voice, both to Assed-khan and to his son, Zulficar-khan, the generalissimo, “that Munaam-khan was an ancient servant of his, and a zealous friend, extremely attached to his person. Whilst I was yet only the Imperial Prince, added he, I promised that I would make him my Vezir, whenever the crown should devolve to me; and now he reminds me of my own promise; but as I intend not to disoblige you on one hand; and on the other, to break my word would look like a proceeding unworthy of the Majesty of an Emperor; I wish you would advise me in such a delicate emergency, and point out some expedient that may give satisfaction to both sides, without wounding my delicacy and sense of honor.”

Assed-khan on observing the Emperor’s inclination, answered: “That a fidelity to their word was always incumbent upon Emperors; but that he hoped likewise that the honor of two faithful servants that had zealously served the imperial family for such a number of years, would be guarded from an affront.” This answer having eased the Emperor’s mind, he directed that Assed-khan should be immediately appointed to the high office of Vekil-M8tlac, or Agent-General and absolute of the Emperor’s; and he ordered that he should be invested with a rich Qhylaat or dress of honor.^\(23\) Manaam-khan, at the same time, who had often acted as Agent-General to the Imperial Princes, and as Divan or Superintendent of his Revenue-office, was invested with the Qhylaat of Vezir; and the Imperial Casket and Seal were put in his hands. The rank of these two illustrious men was also settled by the Emperor himself, who directed that after Assed-khan should take his seat on the carpet of Agent-General, and under the canopy of the Vezir-ship, Munaam-khan should walk up to him in a respectful manner, and should present to him the papers that might require his signature.

This regulation having satisfied both these illustrious personages, they joined their efforts in dispatching the affairs of state, and in promoting the welfare of the Empire, which conduct after all was their immediate duty, and ought to be the intent and scope of employment and service.

Zulficar-khan, the Generalissimo, was decorated with the title and office of Emir-ul-omrah,^\(24\) and appointed to the government general of the Decan, comprehending all the provinces conquered already, or to be conquered hereafter—a charge of importance which he richly deserved: for no other man at that time would have been able to bring under control, countries so newly conquered and so refractory. The new Viceroy after having settled to his mind, the military and finances of his government, returned to Court, after having left for his Lieutenant, a famous Afghan Nobleman of those parts, called Dä8d-khan-peni,^\(25\) a man extremely powerful in those countries, where his riches, his bodily strength, and his personal prowess, had rendered him so famous and of so much importance, that there were no noblemen in Decan, that could be compared to him. He not only was made the hinge of all public affairs, with power to bind or loosen as he should think proper, but he had also the finance department put in the palm of his hand, with full liberty to undertake any military expedition which he should think advisable.

Zulficar-khan, after having eased his mind of so great a burthen, went to Court, where he applied himself sedulously in spreading order and arrangement through every part of the Empire; and as the provinces of Bengala, Orissa, Aazimabad, and Ilah-abad, had hitherto been governed by Azim-ush-shan, the Emperor’s second son, it was thought proper to continue those countries under the same administration. This put it in the Prince’s power, to reward nobly two illustrious lords, that had rendered him many important services, and had distinguished themselves so valiantly in the great battle of Ecber-abad. These were Abdollah-khan, and Sëid-aaly-khan, both sons of the famous Sëid-abdollah-khan, so much revered in Adjmir under the name of Mïa-khan. On the elder, Abdollah-khan, he conferred the Government of Ilah-abad; and he gave that of Aazimabad to the younger, Sëid-aaly-khan. Djaafer-khan was entrusted with the provinces of Bengala and Orissa, in which he acted already as Divan. After all these arrangements, the prince took his residence in his father’s court, where he bore a great sway in every thing. For the Emperor, who was exceedingly good natured, and mild even to a defect, having remembered a vow which he had once made to the Creator of Spirits and men, that if ever he should ascend the throne, he would never deny any man’s request, now wanted to act up to that oath of his; and therefore, dignities, titles, and employments were lavished away with so undistinguishing a profusion, that they lost much of their value, and ceased to be marks of honor and distinction, although no less a man than Munaam-khan had been appointed to examine the several requests, and to adjust the respective claims. Nevertheless, as men of low rank, whether Hindoos or Musulmen, obtained every day grades of six or seven thousand horse; and the titles of Djung, and Mulk,^\(26\) as well as those of Rai and Ràdja, were given to all comers; dignities came at last to lose their weight and titles to forfeit all credit.

Meanwhile, the army which pushed forward towards Hindostan, had been overtaken by the rainy season; and it was at such a time as this, that the Minister thought proper to bestow the Feebleness of Bahadyr-shah’s administration. Government of G8djrat on Ghazi-eddin-khan, who enjoyed already that of Barar, to which he had been appointed by Aoreng-zib; but such was the feebleness of the Ministry, and such the contempt into which their administration had fallen, that the new Governor set out without leave, and even without waiting on the Emperor. This insolence of his having been passed over, encouraged the two dispossessed Gentoo Princes, who lived at Court, to take the same liberties. These were Radja Djehi-sing-ketchöa, and Adjet-sing-rhator:^\(27\) they both quitted the Court without leave, and having crossed the Nerbedda, they returned to their own country, where having ejected with a great deal of fighting and slaughter, the Imperial Officers established themselves in their fortresses; they retook possession of them, and reinstated themselves in their own dominions.

So much presumption had at last roused the Emperor. He crossed the Nerbedda with intention to chastise the Gentoo Princes, who had so far availed themselves of their distance from court, and the inattention of the times, that they had given battle to the three Sëid brothers, Ahmed-khan, Hosseïn-khan and Qhäiret-khan, who had been all three slain, and all three had on the same day received the palm of martyrdom. This particular had added to the Emperor’s indignation, as well as to the apprehensions of those Radj-poots;^\(28\) when an intelligence arrived at court, which made it expedient to temporise with them, and to accept of the submission of those two Princes who paid their homage as the Emperor was passing on his elephant. He was then indisposed; but the intelligence engaged him to postpone every consideration, in order to smother the fire which G8r8-govind, at the head of his Sycks, had raised in the mountains.^\(29\) That incendiary had got himself followed by the Radja and inhabitants of that snowy-country; and he had slain in battle, Vezir-khan, the Fodjar of Ser-hend. The Emperor, shocked at their ravages, ordered Assed-khan and Zulficar-khan to ascend those mountains, and to blockade, on all sides, the stronghold in which the G8r8 had shut himself up; but in the night, the Radja, who was acquainted with a particular path, found means to elude the enemy’s vigilance and to escape with all his followers, of whom only a few were intercepted: a neglect that very much affected Assed-khan’s character. The Emperor finding that no glory was to be acquired in that country, left Rostem-dil-khan in it, with a body of troops, and turned towards Lahor; and it was in that city that Assed-khan departed this fragile world. His office of Lieutenant-General to the Emperor was given to Hedäiet-aaly-khan, son to Enäiet-eddin-khan; and he was installed in it with a rich dress of honor. Ghazi-ed-din-khan, likewise, departed his life in his government of G8djrat. The Emperor was then encamped on the banks of the Ravi, the river that flows at Lahor; and it was there that Rostem-dil-khan had the assurance to shew his face at court, after having had the meanness to quit his post, and that too without leave. His impudence met with what it deserved. He was deprived of his grade, command, Djaghir, and confined in the citadel of Lahor; and Mahmed-amin-khan was sent in his stead.

Some strange events happened during the Emperor’s residence in that city. As he was fond of the company of the learned and ingenious, and he passed himself for an acute proficient in the subtilities of sciences, and especially in whatever concerns law and divinity, (qualities in which he surpassed by far all the Princes of the House of Timur) so he loved to be surrounded with people skilled in those matters, and he discoursed with pleasure on those subjects; but as he had discovered, by the strength of his own genius, that the sect of the Imamites^\(30\) was the only rightful one, and he had set his heart on it, he on his arrival at Lahor, assembled the learned of that city, most of them staunch Sunnies, and argued with them about the justice of the right of his Majesty, the King of Holiness, the Commander of the Faithful, Saint Aaly, son to Ab8-taaleb (on whom be grace and peace!). These men were all confuted; and the confusion in which he saw them, made him conceive the design of adding to the usual profession of faith, as uttered in the public prayers, and in the Qhotba, the words, “And Aaly is the Saint of God, and the Heir of the Messenger of God.” An affair of so much importance required a power absolute, and a great firmness of mind, qualities, which were never eminent in the characters of the Princes of the House of Timur, especially in those of the latter times; and, as on the other hand, the Emperor’s eldest sons, Azim-ush-shan, and Qhodjistah-aqhter, both men of courage and merit, were extremely zealous for the Sunni tenets, this innovation proved very unwelcome, and could take no root. The Emperor himself became apprehensive of a vigorous opposition on that head; so that his will remained without effect. Still unwilling to abandon his design without making some trial of its practicability, he one day sent a Shijah reader to the main Mosque, after having put him under the safeguard of Azim-ush-shan’s company. The Prince, who was in his heart averse to such an innovation, took the man with him, out of respect to his father’s pleasure; but proved entirely passive when the congregation, which was mostly composed of Hanefies, having got information of the scheme, fell upon that innocent man, and hacked him to pieces, before he had time to utter the offensive words.

This commotion was followed by another. The men learned in the law, and some principal inhabitants, all men of the Sunni principles, having forthwith assembled in the Cathedral, sent a message, by which they invited the Emperor over to the right party, and required every inhabitant, Musselman or Gentoo, good or bad, to be assisting with their persons and fortunes; but the Emperor, without minding the invitation, continued during the remainder of his life, to promote the tenets of the Shïjahs, and to pass a great deal of his time in arguing with the Doctors of the opposite party; although to no purpose at all. And, indeed, if the promulgation of new principles depended entirely on argument and reason, why should the Prince of Prophets and Chief of Messengers, (on whom, as well as on his posterity, be salutation and peace to the end of time!) have received orders to fight from the Lord of the Creation—he who was confessedly the most eloquent man of his time, whether in Arabia or in Iran?

Five years had already elapsed since the Emperor’s accession to the throne, and it was the third year since he was encamped on the Ravi, close to the city of Lahor, when some alteration was perceived in his mind. It was about the middle of Muharrem, in the year 1124 of the Hedjra. One day, he took into his head to give orders for killing all the dogs in camp, as well as all those in the city of Lahor. As such an order, from so sensible a Prince, could not appear but very strange, people were willing to account for it by supporting that some witchcraft or enchantment had been practised upon his person. Such a state of things was the more disagreeable, as the Sycks were becoming equally numerous and troublesome. Forbidden from coming into the city of Lahor, not one of them was to be seen in the day-time; but as soon as it was dark, they never failed to return to the houses of those that used to feed and cherish them; and this manege lasted during the whole night: for at day-break they would throw themselves in the Ravi,^\(31\) and after having swam on the other side, they lurked in the neighbouring fields.

These manœuvres of the Sycks, as well as the tumult in the Cathedral, I have mentioned upon the faith of a letter which Amin-ed-do8la, of Sambal, had written to his children, and which I have found at length in the papers of his secretary. The latter says, that the Emperor incensed against the Doctors that had excited the tumult which had cost the reader’s life, had ordered some of them to be thrown into a prison, and some others to be sent to the fortress of G8aliar. Sometimes after, the Emperor The Emperor Behader-shah dies suddenly. having felt a slight indisposition of which no one suspected any ill, he at once fell into a swoon, in which he suddenly departed from this world, to hasten to a corner of the mansions of eternal mercy. It was the 19th of Muharrem, about two hours before night.

The Prince Azim-ush-shan, who happened to be present when the Emperor fell into a swoon, finding himself unable to stand such a spectacle, had quitted that spot, and retired to his own camp, after having recommended to Amin-ed-do8la to tarry a few hours more, in order to bring him a sure intelligence about so mournful an event. So that as soon as the Emperor expired, that nobleman had repaired to the Prince, and had informed him that his father was no more, and that all was over. The Prince wept bitterly; but Amin-ed-do8la having dried his tears with a handkerchief, bid him stand up, and take his party instantly, as not a moment was to be lost. “Ascend the throne,” said he, “at once, and order the Imperial kettle-drums^\(32\) and music to strike up immediately;” and this being complied with, the few Azim-ush-shan assumes the crown. courtiers that chanced to be at hand, made haste to present their Nazers according to custom, and wished the Prince a long, happy reign. At this very time Amin-ed-do8la with Naamet-ollah-khan, and some others, represented that Zulficar-khan, the Generalissimo, as well as Hamid-ed-din-khan, who were both inimical to him, were actually busy in fitting up the imperial body, and would be taken up with that ceremony as far as the grave, and of course could afford a precious delay, in which they both might be seized and secured. The Prince seemingly unmoved by so important an advice, answered, “that the Imperial honor would suffer from such a hasty indecent proceeding; and that for his own part he trusted solely to his own right, and to God Almighty’s assistance; the more so, as after all, Zulficar-khan could do but little.” This answer struck his advisers and well-wishers dumb; and they said in a low voice: “May God turn this into some good!” In fact, the Prince was guilty of an enormous oversight, and that too, at the very threshold of his throne. Nevertheless, Naamet-ollah-khan, of his own motion, went away directly, and putting himself at the head of a numerous brigade of his own, he marched straight to the imperial paling; where having found the generalissimo already gone to his camp, and in the middle of his troops, he returned to the Prince, after having missed his blow.

It must be observed that Azim-ush-shan had always borne a great sway in his father’s life-time, under whom he had acted as his Lieutenant-General, whether in signing papers, or in dispatching business; and as the whole household, to which he commanded, as grand-master, was devoted to him, he had found no difficulty in taking possession of his father’s treasures, and ascending the throne; a step which had afforded some assurance and some satisfaction to the troops in camp. But this was not the case of all. Numbers that looked more narrowly into the matter, were apprehensive of troubles and much bloodshed; so that whoever could provide himself with a carriage or a beast of burthen, made haste to send his family with his best effects into Lahor, during the whole night, whilst others went within the the Imperial paling and took their abode there.^\(33\)

Whilst all this was going forward, the Physicians, Sadyc-khan and Hekin-el-mulk,^\(34\) together with Mehabet-khan and all the Ministers of State, as well as all the Crown officers, went in a body to pay their homages to Azim-ush-shan. They were led by Shah-nevaz-khan and Hamid-eddin-khan. On the other hand, Rostem-dil-khan and some others acknowledged Qhodjistah-aqhter. But Zulficar-khan, the Generalissimo, who did not like this Prince, and was upon bad terms with Azim-ush-shan, repaired to the eldest son, Muëzzeddin, and asked him whether he had any commands to lay upon him? “None at all,” answered the Prince, “at least at present, for I have neither money nor troops, having added to the Imperial army whatever I could bring together, when I came to join my father. But I intend to retire into my Government of M8ltan, where I expect to collect forces as well as the means of appearing again upon the stage of the world, at which time I shall act as fortune shall point out.” The Generalissimo disapproved of such a dilatory party, offered money, troops, and artillery out of his own private stores, and proposed to join immediately both Qhodjistah-aqhter and Refi-al-cadr, by which junction they would disperse Azim-ush-shan’s party, after which it might be time for the three brothers to consult together about further measures. This proposal was not relished by Muëzzeddin, who trusting but little to the Generalissimo’s promises or power, desired him first of all to go and find his two brothers. Zulficar-khan returned directly to his own camp, where having assembled what money and effects he thought necessary, he sent the whole to Muëzzeddin, repairing at the same time to the quarters of the two other Princes, whose hearts he gained at the first interview, after having made them agree to an equal division of the treasures and effects of the late Emperor.

All this while Azim-ush-shan, surrounded by Crown officers, and by the courtiers and generals attached to his party, was sitting on the throne in full possession of the Imperial honors, but resolved to fall on whoever should venture to attack him. He surrounded his camp with a ditch, planted his cannon round, and for a few days waited the event, in hopes that the other pretenders, having no money, their troops would disperse of themselves, or come over to his camp. But as fortune was not on his side, it happened that the very reverse of all that came to take place; for Zulficar-khan, after having performed a service that seemed above all reward, invited the Princes to join together; and this being agreed to unanimously, they repaired with him to Muëzzeddin’s camp, where they formed him a court worthy of the Imperial splendour. This happened in the 1124 year of the Hedjrah. The next day, they marched to attack Azim-ush-shan, and a royal battle was fought; but as destiny was against him, in a little time his troops were defeated, and they fled on all sides; but what is singular, is that Azim-ush-shan’s body could not be found, notwithstanding all the search made for that purpose. This event was related in the following manner:—

The first day, there was a slight attack from the enemy; but as if they had changed their minds, they contented themselves, for seven days together, with firing showers of cannon-ball into Azim-ush-shan’s camp, from which they were answered in the same style. On the seventh day, Naamet-ollah-khan and Aziz-khan, with Radja Mohcum-sing the Cahtri, and Radja Radj-sing the Djatt, came in a body with Shah-nevaz-khan at their head; and they represented to that Prince, that as his enemies were not yet grown so numerous as had been apprehended, it was possible to attack them, and to disperse their troops, by sallying upon them at once, and coming to hand-blows. For all answer, the Prince desired them to wait a little, and with this order they were obliged to comply. The Prince hoped that as the Djatt Churamon, and the Bandjarras,^\(35\) had so beset the roads, that no provisions could reach the enemy’s camp, the latter would soon be obliged to disperse for want of daily food. Whilst he was so much inclined to dilatory measures, he took none to gain the hearts of his troops. Extremely sparing of those treasures he had found ready under his hand, he looked like one anxious to carry them to the other world with him. With such a scheme in his head, no wonder that whenever any bolder advice was proposed, he was sure to mar it, by answering those very words of his—wait a little more. On the eighth day, Zulficar-khan, having fetched from the city of Lahor, several large pieces of cannon, got them planted on a raised advantageous ground, from which they were incessantly pouring showers of large balls into Azim-ush-shan’s camp; and as in order to bring up the cannon, the enemy had set open the road to Lahor, the troops of Azim-ush-shan, already exceedingly disgusted, availed themselves of that opportunity to put themselves out of the reach of a heavy fire, by retiring from the rear of his camp. This state of inaction having highly disgusted the two Gentoo Radjas, they repaired to the Prince at the head of their troops, and represented to him that “as there were no means left to tarry in his camp, and they would put up no more with the eternal taunts of the enemy, they were resolved to fall upon them with their own men, whether they should be supported or not, being determined on taking their chance.” To this animated remonstrance the Prince made no other answer than this—wait a little more. The two brave Gentoos shocked at such a reception, vented their indignation in expressions of reproach, and with one and the same breath, they sallied forth, and fell sword in hand upon the enemy. As these did not expect such a sudden attack, they were surprized and gave way; and the two Princes, after performing wonders, and passing through the enemy’s ranks, penetrated as far as the battery in question, of which they took possession. This was the time to support those brave men; but so far was the Prince from any such exertion, that he sent his Aid-de-camps abroad to reprimand and bring back some commanders that had sallied forth of their own accord. This moment of suspense having been observed by the Generalissimo and Rostem-dil-khan, they made a brisk attack upon the Gentoo Princes, who received them with great bravery, and a sharp engagement took place; but the two Gentoos, overpowered by numbers, having fallen mortally wounded, their men lost courage, and fled towards Lahor, at the very time that a brave Afghan, called Suléiman-khan-péni was coming to their assistance with a thousand horse of his nation. He came just in time enough to lose his own life by a musquet-ball, and his body was sent to the city by the victors.

Of about sixty or seventy thousand horse that had been in Azim-ush-shan’s army, there remained now about his elephant, no more than about ten or twelve thousand; and these, as soon as the Prince was returned to his quarters in the evening, retired to Lahor by shoals—so that the next morning he found himself with no more than two or three thousand men; and with this handful, he wanted to march up to the enemy; but as they had brought him his accustomed elephant, and he was going to mount, the animal refused to kneel, whatever his driver could do to oblige him; and the Prince was obliged to send for another. By this time, even the few that remained with him had disappeared, and on putting his elephant in motion, he found about his person, only Naamet-ollah-khan, with ten troopers, Amin-ed-dö8la-khan, with twenty, and Radja Djehi-sing, with a little more than a thousand;—all his people, of all sorts, not amounting to two thousand men; still he was advancing to the field of battle; but hardly was the action commenced, when there arose such a violent wind as put in motion all the sands of the Ravi; and it raised such clouds of dust, as left no other party than that of shutting one’s eyes, and turning the head away from the violence of the hurricane; nor was it possible to open an eye but to see the flash, or to unstop an ear but to hear the report of the enemy’s cannon. Some troops of cavalry having come upon their rear at this moment, let fly a shower of arrows; but as there was no see in Azim-ush-shan’s person, they pushed forwards to plunder his treasures. A moment after, a cannon-ball striking the Micdember, or throne, on which he was sitting, set on fire the pillows, and occasioned much smoke. The Prince, to save his life, threw all the furniture down; and Amin-ed-do8la having asked whether he was not hurt, was answered, “Not at all—go on—go on.” At these words, the General having fetched several deep sobs, and dropped some tears, was reprimanded by the Prince, who, with a magnanimity remarked by all, reproached him for his want of firmness. “Firmness!” answered the General, “what purpose can it answer to us now? The vessel of our hopes is going to be dashed against rocks; and nothing remains to me but to strike my head against a stone, or a stone against my head. In vain have all your faithful servants been entreating you to let them sally forth, and march to a general attack; in vain did they repeat their instances for so salutary a measure: your answer was always these words, of bad omen,— Wait a little more;” but after all, how could your Majesty do “otherwise, since it was in the Almighty’s decree, that we should be undone? Still there remains one party; it is yet time to take it; but a moment hence, it will be too late. Leave your elephant, mount a horse, and fly with us towards Bengal. There you have your family, you have friends and succourers; and at any rate, Da8d-khan-peni, who commands throughout all the Decan, is your servant. Let us retire to Bengal, which is a place of safety; and there, after having dried your feathers, and trimmed your wings, you may take your party, and come again, and act as occasion shall direct.” “All that is very fine,” replied the Prince; “but what has Dara-Shecoh done after his defeat? And did all that avail to Shudjah?^\(36\) If I am yet destined to reign, the scriptural sentence—Many a time did a small number prevail over a multitude—shall be verified in my person; nor is victory and success so far distant from us yet.” To all this Amin-ed-do8la rejoined, that he had no more than twenty troopers with him, and that every one else was gone away. “Very well,” said the Prince, coolly, “let me have one-half of these twenty, that I may with them rush on that Muëzzeddin; and with the other ten, do you rush on that wretched of Qhodjistah-aqhtar.”^\(37\) The general was near losing his wits on hearing these words, and the Prince was yet speaking, when Qhoadja-hassen (since Qhandö8ran) was heard to cry from behind: “General, I am going to Bengal. Believe me, let us go together.” “Never,” answered the General; “and so long as there is breath in Azim-ush-shan, I will not part with him.” He had hardly said this, when a large cannon-ball having struck the elephant full on the root of the proboscis, made him run mad. The animal turned about and made to the water side, with the fury of a whirlwind, and the rapidity of lightning. His conductor lost his seat, and fell on the ground. Djelil-khan-lo8dy, who sat behind,^\(38\) laid hold of the ropes, came to the ground, and fled for his life. Several people attempted to intercept the elephant, and Amin-ed-do8la was of the number; but there was no overtaking him. In a moment, he saw the animal jump down a cliffy part of the bank, and plunge into an eddy—he plunged and disappeared. Coming close, he perceived an extraordinary motion in the waters, with a great Azim-ush shan is drowned. deal of mud flying upl he heard the roaring of the waves, but saw no elephant; and he concluded that both the animal and Prince had sunk, never to come up again. Immediately he took to flight, but was soon overtaken and seized; and he was sent close prisoner to the Citadel of Shah-djehan-abad, where he remained until he was set at liberty by an express order which Feroh-syur, after his victory over Muëzzedein, addressed to the Governor Yar-khan for that purpose; and in the sequel he rose to the highest dignities of the state.

This important victory, which had cost so little that it seemed a gratuitous prcsent from heaven, raised the ideas of Muëzzeddin, a Prince who wanted neither courage nor merit; and he conceived now the design of setting aside the partition treaty, and of assuming to himself the crown of all Hindostan. With that view, he displayed the standard of contention and superiority, and in such a manner that the union of the three brothers ended in disunion and bloodshed. It is certain that these dissensions arose about the division of the Imperial treasures. This consisted in eighty cart-loads of the Eshreffies,^\(39\) and in a hundred more laden with rupees. Qhodjistah-aqhtar wanted to divide all this money in three equal parts; but Zulficar-khan made use of so much chicanery, and he brought so many pretences forwards, that three-fifths of that immense sum became Muëzzeddin’s share, and the two other two-fifths only fell to the share of the two other brothers. Such a proceeding could not but exasperate them; and Qhodjistah-aqhtar resolved to assume the crown, and took the title of Djehan-shah:^\(40\) so that the two parties were ripe for coming to blows. This Prince, having been joined at the same time by several commanders of great Bloody decisions between the three brothers. distinction, such as Mahmed-khan, and Rostem-dil-khan, men who breathed nothing but slaughter and blood, the two armies looked at each other with a jealous eye; and although they did not come to a battle, they passed whole days and even whole nights under arms. For as soon as the King of Astres had retired behind the western tracts of the world, the two armies would light an infinity of tapers and other fires, and seemed to wait but for an opportunity of coming to blows. Djehan-shah, who had a very cosiderable party, soon found himself at the head of a great army and a numerous artillery; nor was Muezzeddin behind him in those two respects; and he now took the title of Djehandar-shah, or, Possessor of the Whole, or of the World. The two armies partook of the enmity of the two brothers; and for three days together, nothing was thought of but skirmishing by day, and watching under arms by night. On the fourth day the fortune of Djehan-shah’s having declined from its meridian, he said to his generals that he wanted to examine his encampment from without, and that meanwhile they should be careful to keep their troops mounted and ready, as he intended a review. At the same time he recommended to his spies to be upon the watch, and to give him immediate notice, the moment they should perceive that the enemy’s cavalry had alighted, and were preparing to dress grain for their horses.^\(41\) That moment being come, Djehan-shah, who had his troops mounted and ready, rushed towards the enemy’s camp, where after a slight combat, the confusion became general. The enemy’s troops confounded by such an unexpected attack, made but a faint resistance, lost ground, and at last dispersed. The flight and dismay became at once so universal, that a famous courtesan, called Lal-coär,^\(42\) who was the favourite mistress of Djehandar-shah’s and followed him everywhere, mounted upon a veiled elephant, was obliged to fly with the crowd, and that too on foot without a veil. She fell in the hands of Rostem-dil-khan; and that officer was actually busy in loosening the string of pearl that hung at the cordon of her drawers, when she was rescued from his hands.^\(43\) In a confusion so sudden, Djehandar-shah himself having missed his accustomed elephant, got upon the first that came to hand and had no canopy, wrapped himself up with a large sheet, and bid the driver carry him across the enemy’s troops, and under colour of his carrying a woman,^\(44\) to find his way to Zulficar-khan. The man did as he was bid; and no opposition being made to a woman’s voiture, Djehandar-shah got safe to his general, just as cries of victory were filling the air in the enemy’s troops. Zulficar-khan amazed to see Djehandar-shah in such a condition, became anxious about the fate of the day; he called aloud to a body of choice musqueteers attached this long while to his person, and throwing gold by handfuls amongst them, he told them that the day was come to render him an important service; that it was the only one he asked of them; and that one once performed, they would see what his gratitude was capable of, and what their good fortune had prepared for them. “You see,” added he, “that Djehan-shah is now surrounded by multitude of officers and soldiers, who are presenting him their Nazurs^\(45\) in compliment to his victory. Let some hundreds of you mix with that crowd under the same pretence, and then let them fire at once all altogether upon him. This is easy, and all that I want of you.” As soon as he had done speaking, three or four hundreds of them,^\(46\) with their officers at their head, mixed with the crowd; and whilst Djehan-shah was talking to the people about him, and receiving Nazurs, and looking at the troops who pillaged Muëzzeddin’s camp, they fired altogether at him, laid him sprawling in his blood, and gave an unexpected victory to their master. This prince, so unexpectedly victorious, no sooner saw the enemy Djehandar-shah unexpectedly victorious. retreat, than he retired with his mistress to his quarters, where he spent the night in drinking wine,^\(47\) and in looking at his dancing-women, whilst the troops fatigued by such a journey, were taking some repose on the field of battle, every one where he found himself.

The next morning at day-break the Prince Refi-al-cadr sent the principal eunuch of his seraglio to compliment him on his victory; but the victor who had passed the whole night in drinking delicious liquors, was now fast asleep, and there was no awakening him; but his eunuchs hearing of the message, which the Prince’s man was bringing, fell a laughing, and told him “that he was a great fool indeed to bring such a message; the more so as his master having but just seen what had been Azim-ush-shan’s and Djehan-shah’s fate, had no occasion for any further warning.” This answer having convinced the messenger of his master’s mistake, he made haste to return, and to give notice of what had happened. This intelligence afforded at once an immense deal of information to Refi-al-cadr; like a man waking from a dream, he ordered the Nagara or great kettle-drum to be beat, and listening only to his own despair, he mounted and went forward, his troops and friends following as fast as they could. These motions having put Zulficar-khan upon his guard, he ranged his army in battle array, and sent a trusty eunuch with orders to drag Djehandar-shah out of the women’s apartment, and to get him mounted by any means whatever upon an Imperial elephant. But Djehandar-shah was now in the height of intoxication, bare-headed, with his clothes in the utmost disorder,^\(48\) and with hardly any knowledge of what was about him; and it is in that condition he was put upon his elephant and brought to the field of battle, where the Generalissimo was already marching to Refi-al-cadr. This Prince advanced on a full gallop, and charged the troops of his rival with an heroical valor that deserved a better fate. He penetrated through the thickest of the enemy, and fell covered with wounds, after having shown throughout this bloody action a great deal of presence of mind. The few troops he had about his person being mostly slain, or wounded, and himself being left nearly alone, he took up his sabre and buckler, jumped down from his elephant, and after having performed prodigies of valor, he drank undauntedly the bitter draught presented him by death.

This victory having put Djehandar-shah in an undisputed possession of the Empire, he sent notice of his accession throughout all the provinces. Moving at the same time from Lahor, he marched to Shah-djehan-abad, where he made his entry with all the pomp of an hereditary monarch, and all the pride of a victor. It was on a Monday, the fourteenth of the first Djemady, of the year 1124, about three hours before sunset. On his passage through Badely, he was received by Mahmed-yar-khan, Governor of the province, who went so far on purpose to pay his homage to the Emperor, as he was passing on his elephant. Four days after, at about noonday, the sun being then in the meridian, the Emperor made his entry in the citadel, and took possession of the Imperial palace.^\(49\)

And now the new Sovereign being seated on his throne, confirmed Assed-khan in the high dignity of Vekil-mootlac, or his Lieutenant-General, all over the Empire, and Zulficar-khan, his son, in that of Vezir. But here he commenced embruing his hands in blood. Sultan Kerimeddin, eldest son of Azim-ush-shan, was seized at Lahore through the management of Hedaiët-kesh-khan, and brought to the Emperor’s presence, where he was instantly put to death. Nor were the other princes, of the blood, all sons of Aazem-shah or of prince Cambuqhsh, treated much more favourably. Those unfortunate youths, who lived quietly, without suspecting any thing of their impending fate, were all seized at once and rigorously confined. History, melted by the misfortunes of so much innocence, has conserved their names. It was Aaly-tebar, son to Aazem-shah, and Muhi-et-tessa, and Firozmend, the two sons of Cambuqhsh. There was a third son, whose name is not certainly known.

All these precautions being over, the Emperor thought only of raising his relations to dignities and honors, and of rewarding his friends to the utmost of his power. His milk-brother, Cocal-tash-khan, was promoted to the highest offices, and his name was changed into that of Qhan-djehan-bahadyr.^\(50\) His beloved mistress, Lal-coär, was decorated with the title of Imtiazmahal-begum, or the Exalted Princess of the Sanctuary or Seraglio, and distinguished with the privilege of riding close to her master on an elephant covered by an umbrella: an honor affected to the Imperial person only. He was equally lavish to his milk-brother, whom he raised to the office of Emir-ul-omrah, or Prince of Princes, which was now the third dignity in the Empire. He even became so very fond of him, that he would add everyday something to his influence and emoluments; but his partiality for Lal-coär became now boundless. He seemed solely intent on pleasing her. Her brother, Qhoshall-qhan, was made a Hest-hezary, or a Commander of Seven Thousand Horse; and her uncle, Naamet-khan, received the command of five thousand. Not content with that, he intended to dispossess an illustrious Nobleman of the Viceroyalty of Ecber-abad, in order to bestow it on Qhoshall-khan; but here that man’s sudden rise, as well as the Emperor’s partiality, met with an unexpected check. The Vezir on casting his eyes on the patent he produced, refused to pass it the seals, unless he also brought the fees of office, which, in derision of the new Governor’s former calling, he fixed at five thousand guitarres, and seven thousand timbrels. Qhoshall-khan, stung to the quick by such a merciless sarcasm, imparted his resentment to his sister, who had a thorough command over the Emperor’s mind. The Emperor, who owed the highest obligations to the Generalissimo, now his Vezir, commanded his attendance, and in a mild tone of voice, recommended Qhoshall-khan’s affair to him, adding, that the strange kind of fees he had asked, was doubtless by way of joking. “No joke at all,” answered the Minister, in serious tone; “no pleasantry in the matter—please your Majesty, I was in earnest. For, as the nobility, your servants, are, from father to son, in Singular answer of the Vezir to the Emperor. possession of serving the crown in Viceroyalties, Governments, and such other employments; and the custom of your Imperial ancestors has been only to amuse themselves with dancers and singers, whose merits it was customary to reward only by pensions and bounties; so soon as these last shall aspire to dignities and Governments, and shall contrive to take possession of them, there shall remain then no other party for your nobility but that of betaking themselves to the profession just forsaken by the dancers and singers. For, after all, they must have, as well as these, some calling, by which they may support life. When, therefore, I have asked from this gentleman so many thousand guitarres, with as many timbrels, it was with a veiw to distribute them to your dispossessed Governors and Generals, who certainly have a right to earn their bread as well as any others.” This answer struck the Emperor “dumb. He hung his head; but said not a word. The new Viceroy lost his promotion.

Nevertheless matters were going on much in the same manner, and, perhaps, would have been much farther, had not an accident happened, which gave the Emperor some insight into the general discontent.

Lal-coär, when yet a common dancer, had been so intimately connected with Zohra, a woman who sold greens about the streets, the she had made her, her Dogana,^\(51\) as is the Indian word, that is, her sworn-sister. This woman could not fail of partaking of her friend’s elevation so near the throne; and she had become the channel of favours and graces, an office by which she was able to appear in the streets with a retinue equal to that of the greatest Lord.^\(52\) She rode upon a female elephant,^\(53\) magnificently caparisoned; and whenever she went to see her old friend, Lal-coär, she rode throughout the citadel, quite up to the apartment of the Ladies, a privilege enjoyed only by Princesses Consorts, or Princesses of the blood. Her people, in imitation of their Mistress, were become exceedingly insolent and overbearing, so that whenever she went to the palace, they used to commit insolonces upon old women, and such other inoffensive people, as they met in the streets, a conduct that could not but give general offence, and excite in particular the indignation of the nobility, and of the grandees of the state. There was then in the capital, a lord of importance, an ancient general, son to a great nobleman, known in the world under the titles of Ghazi-eddin-khan-firoz-djung-tevary. His name was Chin-kylydj-khan,^\(54\) and as he had been generalissimo under Aoreng-zib, had promoted an infinity of officers, and had enjoyed the highest confidence of that discerning monarch. He made hardly any account of Zulficar-khan himself, whom he had never visited. This general after his master’s decease, had abstained from coming to court, finding that the times did not agree with him; he lived retired, was seldom seen abroad, and then it was to pay a visit to some man renowned for his piety or his learning. Unluckily, one day as he was passing by, his very numerous retinue was met by that woman’s cortege, which was full as numerous, but much more overbearing; the general out of regard to the complexion of the times, made a sign to his people Singular quarrel of a general with a female friend of the Emperor’s mistress. to step aside, and leave the street free, so that she might not be stopped. But her people flushed with having got the upper hand, let fly a number of sarcasms at the general’s people, whom their master was at the pains of keeping under control; and all seemed to go well, when Zohra coming up with her elephant, asked whose retinue it was, and what was their master’s name? And being answered, she put her head out of the curtain, and called out: “Thou Chin-kylydj-khan, surely thou must be the son of some blind father.” These words unhinged the general’s temper; shocked at the deliberateness of her delivery, as well as the indignity of her expression, he made a sign to his people, which they interpreted in an order to chastise that immodest woman’s people. Hardly was the sign made, when those old soldiers fell upon her people, and after having handled them severely, they fell upon Zohra herself, pulled her from her elephant, dragged her on the ground, and gave her a full measure of cuffs, slaps, and kicks. This beating was over in an instant. But this instant was enough to make the General recollect in how much danger he had involved himself, and how critical were the times in which he lived. Struck with this thought, he turned to the right, and for the first time went to pay a visit to Zulficar-khan. The Vezir expressed his surprise, and wished to know what were his commands, and to what he owed the honor of so unexpected a visit. The general made him a faithful narrative of what had happened. The Vezir not only condoled with him on such an accident, but applauded his behaviour, and dismissed him satisfied. As soon he was gone, the minister took pen, and wrote this short note to the Emperor: “The honor of any one of the nobility, your faithful servants, belongs to them all, and your devoted slave joins issue with Chin-kylydj-khan.” It was high time that such a note should arrive. For by this time Zohra was got within the precincts of the sanctuary, but without advancing farther than the gate, where she was laying ashes upon her head, and rolling herself in the dust; and Lal-coär, who thought herself involved in this affair, was working the Emperor’s mind towards some act of severity; and God knows what was going to come out of his mouth, when the note was put in his hand, and to all appearance intercepted some flagitious order.

This affair happened at the very time when Lal-coär’s worthy brother, unable to contain himself in his sudden elevation, was boiling over, and committing excesses of all sorts. This upstart The firmness of the Vezir. having chanced to get a peep at a beautiful woman, married to a gentleman, who lived in the Vezir’s neighbourhood, fell desperately in love with the charms he had seen; and as entreaties and presents proved of no avail, he attempted to satisfy himself by main force. The husband screamed, and ran to Zulficar-khan’s. This minister, who was naturally a great lover of justice and a man of vigour, was shocked at so atrocious an action. In the agitation of mind in which such a recital threw him, he was seen to move from his seat, and he immediately sent people with orders to bring the guilty Qhoshal-khan, dead or alive. The order being executed with as much severity as it had been given, the man was dragged to the Vezir’s apartment, who so soon as he saw him, ordered him to be put to the cudgel; and this was done with so much vigour, that the man was left for dead; and as he heard at the same time that every one complained of that upstart’s violences, he sent him prisoner to the castle of Selimgur,^\(55\) and ordered his whole property to be confiscated to the profit of the Exchequer.

This firmness of the Vezir’s, and the exertions it produced now and then, could not fail to displease the Emperor, in so much, that the union and cordiality between him and his minister had already been endangered more than once. But as he remembered that he owed his very life and crown to that minister’s abilities, and he was overawed by his undaunted firmness, he thought it expedient to bear with him; the more so as the Eastern Provinces of the Empire were now engrossing his attention.

Bengal, the most Eastern province of the Empire, and the only one which is entirely under the management of the Qhalissah or Exchequer-office, produces the greatest revenue to the Emperor; and on that account, the Divanship or Superintendence of the Revenue of that province is reputed the most important of the Empire. This office was actually enjoyed by Djaafer-khan, who had been appointed in the reign of Aoreng-zib; but it was under the administration of the elder Prince of the blood called Azim-ush-shan, who was Governor of the province, Commander-in-chief of the forces, and fully invested with the power of making war or peace with any refractory Prince of those Eastern extremities of the Empire. The Prince enjoyed, besides, an absolute command over the limitrophe or neighbouring provinces of Oressa, Bahar, and Ilah-abad, as we have already said. To lighten the burthen of so cumbersome an administration, and also to reward two nobleman-brothers that had rendered him services of importance, he bestowed the government of Bahar or Azimabad on Hossëin-ali-khan, and that of Ilah-abad on his elder, Abdollah-khan; at the same time he entrusted Djaafer-khan with the military government of Bengal and Oressa, where he was already Divan or superintendent of the finances. Now it must be observed that on the demise of Aoreng-zib, the Prince was obliged to march to the assistance of his father, Bahadyr-shah, and had left his son, Feroh-syur, with some of the Ladies of his seraglio at Acber-nagar, vulgarly called Radjmahal, a place of note upon the Ganga where Sultan Shudjah, brother to Aoreng-zib, had built a noble palace. He left likewise, under the care of some persons of distinction personally attached to him, his treasures and some of his effects, which he did not think proper to send for, no more than the young Prince his son, even during the whole reign of his father, Bahadyr-shah, under which he bore so great a sway. Matters remained in that state, until fortune having put an end to Azim-ush-shan’s influence and life in the manner we have mentioned, and that ill-fated prince having by so strange an accident hastened into eternity, Muëzzeddin, now Djehandar-shah, ascended the throne; and one of his first cares was to dispatch an order to Djaafer-khan, Viceroy of Bengal, for sending the prince Feroh-syur, prisoner to court. This order embarrassed the Khan, who thought himself under very great obligations to the Prince’s father; and he sent him a trusty person, who advised him to provide for his safety by flying the country in time; or perhaps, the Prince himself having got some advice of the orders received by the Khan, thought it unsafe for him to remain longer in the country. Be it as it may, this much is certain, that the prince who reckoned on the gratitude of Hossëin-aaly-khan, a nobleman of illustrious race, who joined to much military merit a character renowned for goodness of heart and munificence, set out of Radjmahal with his family, seraglio, and effects, and arrived at Azimabad in great dejection of mind, and very uncertain of his fate. Instead of entering the city, he took up his abode in a caravansera, near a spot close to the water side, called Djaafer-khan’s garden, and which touches the castern extremities of the walls; from thence he sent an humble message to Hossëin-aaly-khan, the Governor, in which he expressed himself like a man in the utmost distress, friendless and hopeless. The Governor, who did not think himself strong enough to espouse Feroh-syur’s cause, in opposition to the whole empire, which, as A Competitor to the throne arises in Bengal; it was Prince Feroh-syur. well as Zulficar-khan, the Vezir, had submitted to Djehander-shah, declined, at the very first, to have any concern with him. He even answered. “That the orders he had received from Court, enjoined him a very different conduct; that out of respect for the memory of the Prince’s father, he could not bear the thought of seizing his person, as he was commanded to do; but that, by all means, it was advisable for him to retire out of the province, that his flight should afford him (the Governor) some excuse with which he might cover himself against the injuries of a jealous Court, and the suspicions of an Emperor little accustomed to scruples.”

All this is related in a different manner in a memoir that appeared after Feroh-syur had mounted the throne, and of which we shall make use in the sequel. According, then, to this author, Ahmed-beg, alias Ghazi-eddin-khan the Cossa, or Goat’s Beard, a man who cut a great figure in that province, having taken a great part in this whole affair, had prevailed upon the Governor, to pay, at least, one visit to the fugitive prince. The Prince received him in so singular a manner, as had never been practised by any Prince to a subject, or by any Lord to a servant. He was all humility and submission; he stood up for him and made him sit in his presence. After such a preamble, he represented how friendless, hopeless, and distressed was his condition, and how fearful he was lest he should meet at Court with a fate similar to that of his brother, Sultan Kerimm-ed-din. He added, that unless he found some protection and assistance, he had nothing to hope for his safety, or for his life. He had hardly done speaking, when the Ladies of his family, whom he had stationed on purpose behind a veil or curtain, fell a weeping and sobbing, and the Prince’s youngest daughter, Maleka-zemani,^\(56\) came out of the veiled-room, and seating herself on the Governor’s lap, she repeated to admiration the part she had been taught. In a soothing tone of voice, and a moving cast of features, she entreated him to take pity on a forlorn family, and to grant his assistance and safeguard to her father. At the same time she paid him some compliments, and added these very words, that have been conserved by the author of the memoir: “It is true you are of the race of God’s Messenger,^\(57\) and you descend in a direct line from his Saint; moreover, you enjoy all the advantages which power and a high character can confer; but yet it cannot be denied, that it is to Azim-ush-shan’s favour and countenance that you stand indebted for your present well-being. If, then, you make use of all these powers to come to my father’s assistance, and to render him all those services which may be expected from your illustrious birth, and your high character for valor and prowess, you shall have deserved all that my grand-father has done for you; else, if you choose to act otherwise, then, whatever is to be our destiny, shall certainly come to pass; but do you take care of what the world shall say of you.” The Princess had hardly done speaking, when both the women that had come out, and those that had still remained behind the curtain, joined their entreaties to her’s; and from sobs and tears they proceeded to screams and lamentations. At this very moment, Ferock-syur, who, on the Governor’s making his bow, had got him dressed in one of his own suits of clothes,^\(58\) and had made him sit down, now rose from his seat, and advanced to fasten his own sabre on the Governor’s side. The latter overcome by such an unexpected scene, forgot his former repugnance and apprehensions, and descending now to the humble tone of a subject, he said, that “what his humble servant had done hitherto, was nothing more than what became him as a servant, however unworthy it might prove of his Master and Lord’s acceptance. I have nothing but my head,” added he, “and this I dedicate to your service. And now that I have put on this sabre, I have said farewell to my head and life, having devoted the one and the other, as well as my fortune, to your service. Command me, then, that I may do as I am bid. Now is the time to raise troops, and to prepare everything for pushing on the war. Ascend the throne at once, and, without allowing the enemy time to look about him himself, let us follow as destiny shall lead.

Ferock-syur’s concerted management having had a full effect, Hossëin-aali-khan published, that every one should pay his homage to the Prince, and make a render of his person and fortune. Such a proclamation having produced a great concourse of people of all sorts, afforded to astrologers, fortune-tellers, and to men of learning, a full opportunity to approach the Prince; and as the latter, exceedingly credulous and ignorant himself, was perpetually consulting their science about what might be the fate of his expedition, he put it in their power to feed him with favourable predictions, and with hopes suitable to the occasion; in which some were in earnest, and some meant no more than to provide for themselves, as in fact several of then proved to have done, as soon as Ferock-syur had ascended the throne, and had it in his power to bestow pensions and emoluments upon them.

Whilst the Prince was listening to predictions, Hosseïn-aaly-khan was taking every measure that could promote his undertaking; and with that view he wrote to Abdollah-khan, his elder brother, Viceroy of Ilah-abad, both to give him notice of what had happened, and to entreat his concurrence. Abdollah-khan, amazed at the intelligence, answered his brother in a strain that reflected severely on the precipitancy of his conduct, “as well as on the extreme danger it was pregnant with. He adverted at the same time to the impropriety of a step, which besides all the perils of its high nature, involved in its consequences their consorts, children, families and seraglioes, which being actually at Shah-djehan-abad, could not fail to experience all the resentment of a Prince, little susceptible of scruple, and who saw his throne attempted.” To this reprimand, Hosseïn-aaly-khan answered. “That for his own part, he had taken his party, happen what it would, and could not retrograde; Feroh-syur’s party is espoused by two powerful brothers. that he would never form any objections to his remaining, as his elder brother, with the elder party, that is, that of Muëzzeddin.” In the sequel, Abdollah-khan himself carried away by his brother’s entreaties and examples, altered his resolution, and wrote to his younger brother: “That since what had happened could not be recalled, it became them both to make the best of it. Now that you are embarked in the undertaking,” added he, “make haste to join me, as my proximity to the capital renders me the more liable to become an object of resentment to the Imperial army. Let us then join together, and have but one cause.”

This is what I find in the memoir in question. But there is another account, and this is as follows:—

The Emperor Bahadyr-shah having appointed Yzed-dö8lah, a nobleman of high rank, to the Government of Bengal, commanded Feroh-syur’s attendance at court, who being apprehensive of a fate similar to that which his two brothers, Sultan Kerim-eddin and Prince Homaï8n, had experienced, did not choose to trust himself near the Emperor, and had protracted the time by contriving a variety of delays. Being arrived at Azim-abad, and unwilling to proceed farther, he under pretence of his consort’s being near her time, found means to prolong his stay; and he wrote to Court accordingly. During his sojourn there, some astrologers, fortune-tellers and other shrewd men, who wanted only to provide for themselves, prevailed on Hekim-refyh, his Physician, to instil in his mind notions of ascending the throne, and thereby providing for his own safety. Whilst these people were working on that weak mind, there appeared at once at Azimabad, an officer called Mahmed-reza, but better known under the name of Raïet-khan, who being one of those that had fled from Bahadyr-shah’s resentment, was contriving to repair his lost fortune, by producing a forged order for his taking possession of Rhotas, a strong fortress, south of Azimabad; and really he found means to effect his purpose, so that he was actually busy in laying in a stock of provisions and necessaries, having made his account with keeping possession. He had even the audacity to write to the Emperor, and to give him advice that his soldier had through the sloth and incapacity of the Governor found means to get such a good post; and this intelligence was likewise confirmed by the gazetteers of those parts and by the Crown-intelligencers. On this piece of advice, there came an-order from the Emperor; and it was backed by a particular letter of Azim-ush-shan, enjoining Prince Feroh-syur to chastise the impostor. But as it was not an easy matter to get admittance in the fortress, and the Prince was mentioning it to his friends, one of them, called Dilachin-beg, a Calmuc by nation, and a stout man of resolute determined temper, but who had so far displeased the Prince as to be forbidden the Court, found means to send him a secret message by one of the principal Courtiers. “I propose,” said he, “that the Prince shall publish that he has received orders to confirm the impostor in his post, and that I shall be the person who is to carry to him the robe of investiture. Let the Prince therefore reinstate me in his Princely favour, and let him try my abilities and his own destiny in this undertaking, which I hope shall recommend me to the Imperial notice. But I may perish in the attempt; and then, if it be after having performed the service expected from me, I hope it will entitle my family and children to a subsistence for their lives.”^\(59\)

This scheme of his having been approved, the officers of Government published a false account of the Imperial order they had received; and the Prince having sent for the Calmuc, put in his hand the Qhylaat, standard, and patent of investiture, and dismissed him with honor and distinction. The man thus provided, put himself at the head of a numerous retinue, with which cortege he arrived at the foot of the mountain, on which Rhotas is seated; and from thence he sent the impostor notice of his errand. But the latter who was constantly upon his guard, and extremely suspicious, would not admit all that cortege, and sent only a permit for the Envoy and two more persons. The Calmuc went up with only one, and whilst the Governor, into whose hands the standard had been delivered, was intent on reading the patent, he gave him a stab with his poniard, and repeated the strokes until the Governor fell down dead, the Calmuc himself with his companion having been wounded in the scuffle. On sight of this, the officers of the garrison fell upon the impostor’s followers, killed some, wounded others, confined the rest; and putting the dead man’s head into the Calmuc’s hands, they sent him back to Feroh-syur, who loaded him with favours. This happened just at the time when intelligence had come of Bahadyr-shah’s demise, and when Hosseïn-aaly-khan was gone on an expedition where he intended to bring to order, and to quiet, some distant parts of his government.

This time of suspense was seized by Feroh-syur; and before any intelligence might arrive of any of the deceased Emperor’s children having ascended the throne, he ordered the public prayers at the mosques to be read in Azim-ush-shan, his father’s name, published that he had ascended the throne and taken possession, and he wished him a prosperous reign. Having reflected in the sequel on the high nature of his proceeding, and dreading the consequences of his hastiness, he sent a submissive message to Hosseïn-aaly-khan, the Governor of the Province, by which he excused what had passed, and at the same time desired his attendance, as he had sentiments of the highest esteem for his person. Some days after the Governor returned to Azimabad; but as he did not seem inclined to enter into any connections with Feroh-syur, he was visited by the Prince’s mother, who soothed his mind, promised him the disposal of all the affairs of the Empire, and taking to witness her own Coran, which she had brought for the purpose, she protested by God Almighty’s Messenger, that he would never repent of such an union of concerns. This interview had calmed the Governor’s apprehensions, and entirely gained his heart, when news came of Azim-ush-shan’s death, and of Djehandar-shah’s ascension to the throne. But by this time the Governor had advanced himself so far with Feroh-syur, that there was no receding with any safety; and he thought it better boldly to push on. He, therefore, ordered public prayers to be said in the mosques for Feroh-syur, coined money in his name, and displayed to the full the standard of contention and open war with Djehandar-shah. Feroh-syur, in return, made it a point to cement daily his union with him, and to add everyday to his influence and authority.

The Governor being now in earnest, assembled the bankers and principal men of the city; and having borrowed from them large sums of money, proportionable to their circumstances, for which he gave bonds signed by the Prince, and payable on his having subdued his enemies, he soon assembled a good army, and on an auspicious day, he set out on his expedition, carrying the Prince at the head of his troops. At the same time he appointed Sëyd-ghäiret-khan, his sister’s son, for his Lieutenant-General in the province; and knowing that a convoy carrying the tribute of Bengal, was on its way to Ilah-abad, he wrote to Abdollah-khan, his brother, to entreat his seizing so fair a prize, which, however, he was to reserve entirely for the Prince’s use, unless he might want some small part of it for his own necessities. This convoy was under the charge of Shudjah-khan, son-in-law to Djaafer-khan, Viceroy of Bengal. Abdollah-khan no sooner received the Prince’s order thereon, than he stopped it, converted part of it to the use of his troops, but kept the remainder for his brother’s occasions. He also reviewed the artillery of the citadel and province, and pitched upon a number of pieces that were to compose his train. Whilst he was pushing his preparatives with vigour, Djehandar-shah, informed of his rebellion, had given his government to Radji-mahmed-khan, whose lieutenant, Sëyd-abdol-ghaffar-khan, a man of character, had orders to expell Abdollah-khan; and he had been furnished for that purpose with twelve thousand horse, and a quantity of artillery. Abdolla-khan, who had been all this while expecting his brother with the Prince, confounded at their non-appearance, and not thinking his small force a match for the Imperial troops, had shut himself up within his citadel, after having sent one-half of his people to harass the Imperialists. These troops of his which hardly amounted to seven thousand men, cavalry and infantry, were commanded by his three younger brothers, Noor-eddin-aaly-khan, Nedjm-eddin-aaly-khan, and Seïf-eddin-aaly-khan, to whom he added his own Major-General and Paymaster, the Baqhshy Abdol-mohsen-khan, a man of resolution, born at Bidjapoor in Decan, but originally of Nedjef-eshreff.^\(60\) Sëyd-abdol-ghaffar, who had as good an opinion of himself as he had a small one of those three young men, turned their rear, and pushing to the citadel, he besieged it in form, after having sent word to the Governor, that he had left his nephews behind, because he had no inclination to play with children. This sarcasm which was faithfully reported to those young men, put them upon recommending themselves to that General’s good opinion. With this view, they fell upon his rear, as he was on full march; but their troops, which besides being all new levies, were greatly inferior in number, fell into confusion on the first on a set, and were losing ground every moment. This was no sooner perceived by the three young men, than resolved not to survive a defeat, they joined some of those that yet stood their ground to a body of Seïds of Bar, personally attached to them; and stretching the feet of boldness and despair through the field of battle, they fell on the enemy like so many famished tigers of the wilderness, and were performing exploits worthy of being recorded in history. Fortune seemed to take side with the young heroes; one of those violent winds, common in that season, arose at that very time, and blew such clouds of dust and sand into the very faces of the enemies, as blinded them entirely. Unable to resist its violence, and still less to distinguish the friend from the foe, they fell into confusion, and became incapable of listening to command, or of keeping their ranks. This being perceived by the young heroes, they redoubled their efforts, killed Abdol-ghaffar’s brother, and were pushing with fury forwards, when a rumour having arisen in the enemy’s troops that their General had been slain, it made such a discouraging effect, that even those that stood bravely their ground, fell off and retreated. From that moment the confusion and flight became general, and the proud Imperialist General received a shameful defeat; for Djehandar-shah’s fortune was now upon the decline. This victory could not fail of raising the spirits of Feroh-syur’s party, but it affected Abdollah-khan in a very different manner; his younger brother, Noor-eddin-aaly-khan, a young man of the greatest hopes, lost his life in it, and in his first campaign, drank of the cup of the martyrdom, and went to join the choruses of his brave and pious ancestors. Abdollah-khan, obliged to order the military music to strike up, was at a loss how to conceal his grief and tears upon the loss of such a hero whose eulogium he pronounced

The loss of this battle having given the Emperor some suspicions about the event of the war, he thought it proper to try what policy could perform; with that view, he sent a dress of honor to Abdollah-khan, applauded what he had done, and added a confirmation of his government. But it proved in vain; for Feroh-syur was already at Ilah-abad with a numerous army, in which they reckoned a number of Generals of character, for instance, Saf-shiken-khan, Ahmed-khan-coca, Muëzzeddin the Cossa, alias Ghazi-eddin-khan, since Ghalub-djung, and Qhoadja-hassen, since Qhandö8ran. The two brothers, who were the soul of all that multitude, having made choice of a favourable moment, invoked the souls of their pious and brave ancestors, and set out full of spirits, on an expedition that already promised so much. This intelligence having been soon conveyed to the Emperor, The Emperor sends his son, Yezzeddin, to fight Feroh-syur. he resolved to send his son, Yezzeddin, at the head of a powerful army to oppose Feroh-syur on his march. But in fact this young Prince himself was under the care of Qhadja-ahfen-khan, brother to Cocal tash-khan. This nobleman who enjoyed the grade of five thousand horse, was then raised to that of seven with the effectual command of so many; and the whole management of the expedition, as well as the safety of the Prince’s person, was recommended to his care. After his departure, the Emperor dispatched Chin-kylydj-khan with orders to reinforce the army with his body of troops. The Prince, after many marches, having advanced as far as Kedjwa near the Ganga, heard that the two brothers were in full march to fight him. This piece of intelligence stopped him short; and although he was so vastly superior to them both in numbers, (for he had above fifty thousand horse) and in artillery, he did not think himself a match for the enemy, but chose to entrench himself. His perturbation already great, became still more glaring, when he heard that the enemy was drawing near by continual marches. On this intelligence he betrayed, as well as his General, every mark of trepidation and pusillanimity. But when Abdollah-khan drew nearer and fell acannonading his camp, which he did for a whole day, he could contain himself no longer; and his General being as much out of his senses as himself, they sallied together at the back part of the camp, after having loaded themselves with as much gold and jewels as they could, and at the beginning of the night they took flight together, leaving their army, camp, artillery, Yezzeddin’s shameful flight from his own camp. baggage, jewels, and military chest to be disposed of by the enemy, who as yet knew nothing of the matter. But the army was soon informed of there being neither Prince nor General-in-chief; nor could any party be taken in such a singular evenement; for the officers and grandees in the camp disagreed with each other, and could come to no final resolution amongst themselves, but passed the whole day in disputes. On the evening, the enemy got intelligence of the state of things, and rushing without order into the Imperial camp, they plundered it so leisurely, and found in it so much booty, that vast numbers of people that had never had an assured subsistence, now enriched themselves for the remainder of their lives. Notwithstanding all that plunder, there remained still a vast deal of wealth, which together with the artillery, was seized for Feroh-syur’s use. This prince tarried a few days to give some rest to his army, whilst Yezzeddin in his flight towards Ecber-abad, fell in with the corps commanded by Chin-kylydj-khan. This General shocked at so flagitious a conduct, made use of force and violence to stop the Prince, who wanted absolutely to fly farther; and he obliged him to wait in his camp until the Emperor should send orders.

Such a shameful defeat very nearly blasted all the hopes The Emperor, undismayed, marches in per son against his competitor. conceived by that Prince. Trusting now to no one, that monarch resolved to march in person against a rival so successful; and on the Tuesday of the twelfth Zilcaad, in the year 1124, he set out of his capital with an immense pomp, and an army of seventy thousand horse, besides a numerous infantry and a train of large cannon capable to shake the foundations of the globe. It was Zulficar-khan who commanded this mighty host; he had under him the famous Cocal-tash-khan, with several Generals and officers of character, all renowned for their achievements, all fond of battle, and all thirsting after an engagement, like so many famished tigers howling in the wilderness. Such were Aazem-khan, and Djani-khan, and Mahmed-amin-khan, and a multitude of T8ranian and Iranian Lords^\(61\). On his march he was joined by Ser-bolend-khan, Fodjdar of Corrah, who taking possession of the money he had been receiving there on Feroh-syur, his master’s account, deserted to Djehandar-shah, to whom that small merit rendered him so dear, that he gave him the Government of G8djrat, and sent him to Ahmed-abad, its capital, after having passed many encomiums on his conduct. As a counterpart to this, Chebilram, the new Fodjdar of Corrah, and Aaly-ashgar-khan, son to Car-talab-khan, Fodjdar of Atava, went over to Feroh-syur. But by this time the Emperor being arrived at Semogur, a town in the neighbourhood of Ecber-abad, found himself over against the enemy, who was parted from him only by the river Djumna. What looks singular is, that the sight of the enemy occasioned transports of joy amongst the two Sëids and in Feroh-syur’s Court; whereas it occasioned much trepidation in the Emperor’s camp. The reason is plain. Unanimity reigned in the enemy’s camp; whereas Djehandar-shah’s flagitious behaviour had alienated the hearts of most of the grandees of his court. The T8ranians in particular, had promised by letters and messages, that they would join Feroh-syur; Abdol-semed-khan alone abstained from such promises. Nevertheless there was so visible a superiority of force on the Emperor’s side, that it was generally believed that his rival would have no chance against him. Unluckily there reigned such a difference of tempers and sentiments between his principal Generals, Zulficar-khan and Cocal-tash-khan, and this difference had given rise to so much enmity, and to so inveterate an aversion, that nothing went forwards in the Emperor’s camp. Cocal-tash-khan, in particular, who enjoyed the Emperor’s confidence, was a man equally incapable of giving or of receiving a good advice. In consequence of so much animosity no one concerned himself about any thing; and every thing went to wreck. There is more. No specific order had been issued to cross the Djumna for attacking the enemy; and the two favourites agreeing in nothing but in an eternal variance from each other, and in giving opposite advices, it happened that the Emperor himself was actually incapable of taking a party for himself. Desperately in love with Lal-Coär, he had of late fallen into a delirious kind of melancholy, that rendered him incapable of business.

Such a state of things could not be concealed from an enemy who had so many well-wishers; and, in fact, Abdollah-khan having received information of a ford which was four cosses above the enemy’s camp, crossed over in the night time, and marched on without stopping as far as K8zbehari, a village beyond Ecber-abad, on the high road to Dehli. There he took post; and some time after he was followed by Feroh-syur himself, who crossed over likewise and joined his General. To impose on the enemy, and to perplex his ideas, Hossëin-aaly-khan with the rear or corps de reserve, remained where he was over against the enemy’s camp, and did not cross over, but when his motions could be effectually concealed by the darkness of the night. He had with him Chebilram-nagur, an Hindoo of character. What is very singular, and marks the finger of Providence in this affair, is that this fording over in the dark, seemed to give a turn to the whole war; for as Feroh-syur’s army made its appearance at day-break on the enemy’s rear, it became necessary in the latter’s camp to change the whole order of battle, to marshal the Feroh-syur’s army crosses the Djumna in presence of the Imperial army. troops anew, and to bring the artillery from the van, all which could not be done without an infinite deal of confusion. This happened on the fourteenth of Zilhaj, of the same year; and the two armies, the one in good order, and the other, that is the Emperor’s, in much disorder and confusion, advanced against each other. This Prince took his post in the centre, surrounded by a brilliant cortege, and by several corps of choice troops, that had a train of large artillery in their front. Zulficar-khan, by whom he seemed to be governed in whatever related to matters of war and politics, but who in reality had not his confidence, as his extreme firmness displeased the Emperor, came to place himself before that Prince with a body of old troops and a quantity of artillery, together with the Imperial Music of trumpets, haut boys, and kettle-drums. Cocal-tash-khan, and Djani-kan, with Aazem-khan, and other Lords of his party, took post at the right wing; and the T8ranian Lords, such as Mahmed-amin-khan, Abdol-semed-khan, and Chin-kylydj-khan,took post at the right. Radji-mahmed-khan, with Hafiz-ollah-khan, and some other Generals, with their Corps, were posted as light troops. Reza-cooly-khan, the Grand-Master of the Artillery, was ordered to attend diligently to his business; and the rest of the troops were placed as the ground would permit.

On the opposite side, Feroh-syur, in compliance with the Imperial custom, placed himself in the centre of his troops, seated upon a lofty elephant, having Abdollah-khan before him, who with many other Commanders, took post over against Zulficar-khan; and Khan-zeman and Aaly-asghar, with Chebilram-nagar, were opposed to Cocal-tash-khan. The engagement was commenced by Abdollah-khan, who, with his troops in good order, advanced first against the T8ranian Lords of the enemy, and then inclining towards the Imperial artillery, he, with an apparent incertitude in his motions, found means to push beyond it, and to come near the enemy’s centre, where Djhehandar-shah appeared. On the other hand, Hossëin-aaly-khan, supported by Fateh-aaly-khan, Commander of Feroh-syur’s artillery, and by Zin-eddin-ahmed-khan, son to Bahadyr-qhan the Rohilla, as well as by the two illustrious brothers, Mir Eshref and Mir Mushref, directed his attack against Zulficar-khan; and being vigorously received, his troops presently fell into confusion, and were slain in heaps; and his bravest officers, as well as his oldest soldiers, those men on whom he trusted so much, being mowed down in his presence, gamed away the capital of their lives, and covered the field of battle with their bodies. Hossëin-aaly-khan, seeing how his best troops had been used, closed at once with the custom of valiant men in Hindostan; and jumping down from his elephant, he engaged, hand to hand, and with a number of brave that followed him everywhere, he performed heroical actions; when, having received several wounds from sabre, musquet, and arrow, he fell speechless on the ground, and was trampled under foot. His brother, Abdollah-khan, had no luck. On his attacking the T8ranians, he was received by clouds of arrows, which threw his troops into confusion, and made them divide into several bodies, each of which was opposite, and contending with a body of enemies; and as he was exerting himself in the hottest part of the engagement, he was carried away by the crowd, without knowing where he was, until he found himself amongst a body of about three hundred troopers, parted from the standard-bearing elephant, and at a distance from his several corps. It was at this very moment he saw himself singled out by a General, enemy, who proved to be the same Sëyd-abdol-ghaffar, who had received so shameful a defeat at Ilah-abad. He cried out who he was, and shot an arrow at Abdollah-khan; the latter was as quick as he, and lodged an arrow in his breast; and the General finding himself dangerously wounded, quitted the field, and retired at a distance. But Abdollah-khan was not the better for this action; he was again carried away by the crowds, without knowing where he was, and without having it in his power to guess what might be the consequence of so much confusion. Luckily for him, he was at so critical a moment joined by a body of his troops, with whom he gained an eminence, from whence, he no sooner described Djehandar-shah in the middle of his troops, than he marched up to him, opening his way with showers of arrows; and he availed himself so well of the disorder into which the enemy was thrown, that he penetrated as far as the female elephants of the Seraglio. The Emperor, carried away by an elephant that became unruly, and, unable to range his troops in order, found himself in the middle of a number of war elephants, which becoming furious, were engaging each other, and exhibiting a scene as dreadful as that of the last judgment. Laal Coär’s female elephant taking fright, had turned about and fled, followed by multitudes that sought to get out of the reach of the enemy’s arrows; and that dismayed multitude of men and elephants, falling upon two bodies of troops that yet stood their ground, confounded their ranks, and then bore them down. The Emperor, incapable to make a stand upon an elephant become ungovernable, was closely pursued by Abdollah-khan, whose troops were joining him by whole bodies; and this General, without giving the enemy time to recollect himself, was carrying every thing before him, in so much, that the Imperial troops, amongst which the music had already commenced to play, were now flying on all sides. Cocal-tash-khan, who with his corps made an effort to cover Djehander-shah, was encountered by Qhan-zeman, and Chebilram, who came out of a post they had chosen at the beginning of the action, drove Cocal-tash-khan’s troops, and wounded him in several places. And here was slain Reza-cooly-khan, Commander of the Imperial Artillery, as had already been Djani-khan and Moqhtar-khan. Meanwhile, Aazem-khan, brother to Cocal-tash-khan being wounded, came up to the Emperor’s elephant; and this Prince, finding that matters were now past remedy, went The Emperor is defeated, and flies for his life, whilst his Vezir, Zulficar-khan,
bravely stands his ground. down to Laal Coär, and taking her with him, he on the dusk of the evening, turned about towards Ecber-abad. Such was the state of things with the Emperor; but with Zulficar-khan, they bore a very different aspect. This General without being dismayed by the general discomfiture, had kept his footing without losing any ground, and he even intended to renew the action, as soon as he could bring, either the Emperor, or his son, Yezzeddin, to shew themselves at the head of his troops. But all his endeavours to find them out proved abortive; and several intelligent persons, who were prevailed by dint of money and promises to go on that errand, came back without even getting any intelligence about them. All his efforts failed; and the music of gladness and victory was already filling the air of the enemy’s army, whilst the officers of all ranks were running up to Feroh-syur with their congratulations and their Nuzurs. All this joy, however, did not remove the uneasiness he felt, on observing that Zulficar-khan, surrounded by a strong body of veterans, and by much artillery, did not move from the field of battle. Such a resolute countenance had something very imposing. He expressed his surprise in strong terms at what that General could mean by staying so late at night; and at last he sent him this message:— “He that pretended to the empire, has relinquished the throne and is fled—pray, have you any pretensions to it yourself, that you tarry so long after him? If you have, this is another matter; but if you have not, and you are only for an Emperor of the House of Aoreng-zib, what objections can you have to my being that Prince, instead of Muëzzeddin?” Such a message, and such a tone of voice, informed at once Zulficar-khan of what he wanted to know; and finding that things were past remedy, he marched off at the head of his troops in good order; and he had so respectable a countenance, that no one thought of disputing the ground with him. The Emperor, meanwhile, had passed the night at Ecber-abad, where he shaved his beard like a The Emperor is arrested and confined by the Vezir. Hindoo, changed his apparel for an humble one, and taking Laal Coär with him, he, in the latter part of the night, fled towards the capital, having about his person a number of people of all sorts personally attached to him. But instead of going to the citadel, he landed in the palace of the old Vezir, Assed-khan, who immediately seized and confined him; and hardly had he been secured, when Zulficar-khan himself arrived.

Abdollah-khan, on seeing the field clear of enemies, ordered strict searches to be made for his brother; and the latter was at last discovered stretched on the ground, speechless, and senseless. This lucky discovery was made by two of that valiant nobleman’s servants, one of whom remained by him, whilst the other went to give notice; and this piece of intelligence so overjoyed Abdollah-khan, that he took away all the jewels he actually wore, and presented them to the man. There is another account, which says, that on the servants discovering their master, they found him watched by two officers, at the head of a body of troops. These were Leshker-aaly-khan and Muhi-yär-khan, two men attached personally to Hossëin-aaly-khan. Still there is a third account, and this is in the memoirs of Hashem-aaly-khan-khasi, a nobleman of great distinction, who has wrote the History of the Timurian Emperors. He positively says, that Hossëin-aaly-khan having received several dangerous wounds, had fallen senseless on the ground, where he had been stripped stark naked; and it was in that condition that his servants had found him speechless, after a very laborious search. On receiving some assistance, he recovered his senses, so far as to hear with pleasure of the victory of his party. Nevertheless, it was with some difficulty he was put in a Paleki, and conveyed to his brother, who on seeing him so unexpectedly, prostrated himself on the ground, and returned thanks to Providence for so signal a favour.

Zulficar-Khan, on landing at his father’s palace, disapproved of the seizure of the Emperor’s person. He wanted to bring him a second time in the field, and to try a second time the fortune of war; for as he had been so instrumental in raising Djehandar-shah, and in undoing Azim-ush-shan, father to Feroh-syur, he apprehended that nothing but what was inimical could be expected from the son, and at any rate he wanted to retire into Decan, a rich country, where he was absolute, and where he thought himself fully able to resist the new Emperor. But the father opposing his paternal authority to both these resolutions, and adding entreaties and prayers to all its weight, prevailed on the son to lay aside all thoughts of opposition, and to submit quietly to the new Prince: a fatal acquiescence, which so prudent a man would have never thought of, had he not been actually under the pressure of a destiny that had decreed these very days for the last moments of Assed-khan’s prosperity, as well as for the epoch of the extinction of his family and the destruction of his beloved son. The old Vezir, without any certitude of being well received, and even with a moral certitude of his risking his life as well as that of his son, took him by the hand; and trusting to the merits he had acquired in Aoreng-zib’s family, and to the high regard constantly shewn him by both that Prince and his successors, he went without any retinue to pay his respects to Feroh-syur, and to intercede in behalf of his son.

This Prince was yet on the field of battle. Thinking this a favourable day, and finding no opposition before him, he resolved to assume the crown; and on a Thursday, being the fifteenth Zelhidj, in the year 1124, he ascended the throne at day-break, and gave a public audience to the people. Immediately after this inauguration, Abdollah-khan introduced Chin-kylydj-khan, Feroh-syur ascends the throne. Abdol-semed-khan, and Mahmed-amin-khan with all the T8ranian Lords of their party. These Generals paid their homages to the new Emperor, wished him length of days with a prosperous reign, and were received with distinction, as well as forgiven the errors of their past conduct. At the same time Abdollah-khan, with Lootf-ollah-khan-sadyc and some other persons of distinction, received orders to set out immediately for the capital, in order to quiet the minds of the people there, and to establish order and tranquillity throughout the whole country. He had likewise commission to take care of the Imperial palace and citadel, and chiefly of the Princes of the blood confined there. Feroh-syur himself followed a week after; and on the fourteenth of Muharrem, he encamped close to the capital at Bara-pallah, where having sent for Abdollah-khan, he gave him the grade and command of seven thousand horse, bestowed upon him the title of Cootoob-el-mulk, or Pole of the State, and raised him to the high office of Vezir-Aazem or Supreme Minister. His brother, Hossëin-aaly-khan, was decorated with the title of Ahtimam-el-mulk, or Performer of the State, with the grade and command of seven thousand horse, and with the glorious dignity of Emir-ul-omerah, or Prince of Princes, as well as with the office of Paymaster-General of the forces. Mahmed-amin-khan was made second Paymaster, with an addition of a thousand horse to his actual grade and command, to all which was added the title of Umad-ed-do8lah, or Prop of the Empire. Chin-kylydj-khan, who enjoyed already the command and grade of five thousand horse, was raised to that of seven, and moreover decorated with the title of Nizam-el-mulk, or the Composer of the State, as well as invested with the Viceroyalty of Decan, in lieu of Da8d-khan-peni, who acted as Deputy-Lieutenant of Zulficar-khan’s; and that officer, from the government of Boorhanpoor, which he possessed in chief, was transferred to that of G8djrat. Qhoadja-hassen was honored with the title of Semsam-ed-do8la, and the surname of Qhan-i-dö8ran,^\(62\) together with the grade of seven, and the command of six thousand horse. Ahmed-beg-Coca-Muëzzeddin, who had signalised himself by much activity, and had rendered important services, was decorated with the titles of Valiant Champion of the Law, Ever Victorious in War,^\(63\) promoted to the grade of six thousand horse, with the command of five, and entrusted with the office of third Paymaster-General. But a man who rose suddenly to the highest dignities, and whose elevation shall have hereafter so much influence over the politics of Feroh-syur’s reign, was the Cazy Abdollah, then Judge Supreme of Djehangir-nagar-Daca. This man who was already known for having executed with success, several commissions of consequence, and namely, that of going secretly to the capital, and gaining the Lords of the T8ranian denomination, (and he was a T8ranian himself) now appeared with splendour at court, where he was decorated with the high title of Qhan-i-qhanan-emirdjumlah,^\(64\) promoted to the command as well as grade of seven thousand horse, and honored with the utmost confidence of the new monarch, who already seemed to have no ear but for him, and who entrusted him with his private signet, although he seemed to have yet no other office than that of Daca. The moonshy, or secretary, Mahmed-Djaafer, who enjoyed already several offices, now received the title of Tuckurrub-khan, and to his present offices was added that of High Steward, a charge equally important and lucrative. Sëif-khan, a relation of Abdollah-khan, was made grand Equerry; and offices, and favours, and governments were bestowed on that minister’s two younger brothers, as well as on all those that had received promises. All these promotions being over Abdollah-khan, now Vezir, diligently applied himself to the duties of his office, one of which consisted in curbing that air of independence assumed by the grandees of the Empire during the confusion inevitable in civil wars; and happy had it been for the Emperor, had he had his mind employed in that laudable manner, instead of paving the way for his own ruin, by demolishing almost all the ancient families, and especially that of the venerable Assed-khan, that ancient Vezir, so much respected all over that Empire.

We have left him in full march with his son to the Imperial camp of Barapalla, where he was no sooner landed, than both expressed a desire of paying their respects to the new Emperor. This was precisely the circumstance the new favourite, Emir-djemlah, waited, for, that man who had grown jealous of all the ancient families, and had formed the scheme of pulling down every one of them, in order to make room for a number of friends which he wanted to raise on their ruins; that man, who had already conceived an antipathy against the blunt, resolute character of the Generalissimo’s, and wanted to make an end of him; did not fail to add fuel to that indisposition of mind which Feroh-syur had conceived against that General. But Emir-djumlah’s ill will and machinations would have produced but little, had Zulficar-khan been fortunate enough to listen to the proposal of the Prince of Princes, Hossëin-aaly-khan, who had generously offered his mediation, and had solemnly assured him, that if he chose to be introduced through his channel, not a hair of his head would be touched. Such an offer could not long remain a secret; and Emir-djemlah who felt all the consequences which it would infallibly produce, exerted himself in warding off the blow. He, for that purpose, dispatched the new high steward. Tuckurrub-khan, in hopes, that his being a Moghul, &c., as well as Zulficar-khan, would give him the more influence on that General’s mind. This nobleman having found a heartier welcome with the Generalissimo on that very account, represented to him that, as “the Emperor was dissatisfied in secret with the excessive power assumed by the two Sëyd brothers, to reckon upon such a support, and to make his peace with the Emperor through their mediation, would be as much as to lean against a rotten tree that would produce nothing but repentance and disappointment. But where is the necessity of recurring to others,” added he, “and what need is there of any mediation? So soon as you shall have paid your respects, and tranquillized your own mind, you shall become yourself a person to be recurred to by all the courtiers and all the grandees of the Empire, as your dignities and influence are to be augmented indubitably; for the Emperor, who has the highest opinion of your talents, intends to make use of them, and expects the most eminent services from your attachment.” This speech of Tuckurrub-khan’s having been closed by the most solemn asseverations, and oaths having been exchanged upon the glorious word of God, both father and son seemed to give their confidence to the messenger. The old man was in earnest; but the son could not rid his mind of some doubts that remained about the Emperor’s sincerity, and especially about that of his minister. To dispel, therefore, those clouds that hung still about his mind, Emir-djemlah himself went to the Generalissimo, and after having renewed his oaths and insinuations, he bound his hands together with a shaul, and introduced him to the Emperor. It was in that condition he paid his obeisance to the new monarch, whilst the venerable Assed-khan having said a few words in extenuation of his son’s misconceived past conduct, supplicated the Imperial forgiveness in his behalf. The Emperor with the greatest appearance of kindness imaginable, commanded his hands to be set at liberty, and a dress of honor of the highest distinction to be brought in with a set of suitable jewels. He then dismissed the father on account of his great age, but desired him to let his son remain in an outer tent for a few moments, as he had some questions of consequence to put to him, and some objects of moment on which he wished to have his advice. This unexpected turn rendered the old nobleman uneasy, and he went away in a great perturbation of mind. As to the son, who now doubted of his safety, he was too far advanced to recede, and he did as he was bid. He was hardly seated, when the tent was surrounded by a number of men forwarded from the Imperial presence; and the Emperor at the same time sent him some taunting messages, in which with bitter expressions of resentment he charged him with his father, Prince Azim-ush shan’s death. The General, who, to all his innate loftiness of mind and to his generous feelings, added an undaunted courage and a rough temper, having answered with reproaches and with haughtiness, the Calmuc Dilachin-beg (now become Bahadyr-dil-khan)^\(65\) who stood behind, seized a favourable opportunity to throw a leathern thong round his neck; and whilst he was striving hard with the general, a number of men rushed in, who soon dispatched him with their poniards. That same day a number of men were dispatched to the Citadel of Shah-djehan-abad, who having passed a leathern thong about Djehandar-shah’s neck, sent him on his travels in the regions of annihilation.

It was after such horried executions that the Emperor thought of making a triumphal entry in the Citadel and in the Imperial palace, and people believed that such frightful scenes would be over; but as soon as he was settled in the palace, (and this was on a Tuesday, the seventeenth Muharrem, in the 1125 of the Hedjrah) he directed that “Djehandar-shah’s head should be fixd on a spear, and his body thrown across upon an elephant, to whose tail Zulficar-khan’s body should be made fast; that both bodies should be carried throughout the most frequented parts of the city, and then thrown before the main gate of the Citadel, there to rot.” Not satisfied with all this, he ordered that “Assed-khan himself, the venerable Assed-khan, should be seized, and put in a Paleki with only what clothes he should have actually on his back; and that in that condition, he should follow the elephant in question, attended by all the ladies of his family in veiled carriages, after which he was to be confined for life in Qhan-djehan’s palace, and his whole property as well as that of his son, to be confiscated.” Whilst that mournful procession was going round the principal streets, the Emperor recollected that a Gentoo of distinction, called Radja Soba-chund, had been too free of speech; and he ordered his tongue to be cut off, and his property to be confiscated. The man underwent the operation in all its rigour, and what is singular, he continued to speak as freely as ever. At least so is the general report.

It was by such bloody beginnings that Feroh-syur marked the first days of his reign; nor was Zulficar-khan the only victim he sacrificed to his resentment or to his fears. Most of the grandees of the old court underwent the same treatment, and finished their days by the leathern thong. The Princes of the blood themselves were as mercilessly used. Yezzeddin, son to the late Djehander-shah; Aaly-tebar, son to the late Aazem-shah, and even the young Homai8n-baqht, younger brother to Feroh-syur himself, were deprived of the benefit of light by a large red-hot needle which was drawn across their eyes. So many cruelties at the very beginning of a reign, and so many unjust murders unnecessarily perpetrated, excited so much terror in the minds of every one, from the highest to the lowest, that people having continually the image of instant death before their eyes, did not think themselves sure of their existence, for one single day. So that such persons as were, by their stations, or by the duties of their offices, obliged to attend every day at Court, never failed, on returning home alive, about the evening, to receive the congratulations of their equals, and the Nuzurs of their inferiors; and nothing was so common, on coming home safe, as to distribute, late at night, money to the needy, and thanksgiving-victuals to the hungry, just as it is customary for people to do, when they have escaped from some imminent peril.^\(66\)

It is in the middle of such merciless beginnings, that people perceived a coolness, and then very bitter discontents, between the Emperor and the two Sëids, those two potent Lords, that had saved his life at the risk of their own, and then raised him to the throne. These discontents grew to a great height—to such a height, indeed,—that in their consequences they have produced the ruin of the Imperial family, and the desolation of the whole Empire. The first spark of that fire, that has since blazed out, and caused such a conflagration all over Hindostan, was perceived on the following occasion:—Abdollah-khan, who, immediately after the gain of the battle of Agra, had been dispatched to the capital, with orders to quiet the minds of the people there, and to bring back the affairs of state into their accustomed channel, had, amongst many other promotions, bestowed the office of Divan of the Qhalissah-office, or of First Lord of the Treasury, then vacant, on L8tf-ollah-khan-sadyc, the very person associated to him in that Commission; and he had also confirmed Sëid-amdjed-khan in the office of Supreme sadr, or great almoner, of which that nobleman had remained invested so early as Bahadyr-shah’s reign. Unfortunately, whilst he was bestowing these offices in virtue of his Commission as well as in virtue of his Vezirial powers, the Emperor was disposing of them in the plains of Ecber-abad, where he gave the superintendence of the Treasury to Chebilram-nagur, and the supreme Sadrship to Afzol-khan, who had once been tutor to his children. Some days after, the Emperor arrived at the capital; and on his taking cognisance of some offices of state, and of some promotions, and in particular of those two important ones, there ensued a long dialogue between the Prince and the minister. The latter observed that, “if in the very beginning of his administration, a wound should be given to his authority, he could no more pretend to execute so important an office with credit to himself, or advantage to the public;” and on the other hand, Emir-djemlah inculcated to the Emperor that, “be the powers ever so full and so illimited which Sovereigns found it sometimes expedient to delegate to any of their servants for a time, still it would never follow, that a servant should therefore forget himself so far as to dispose of such important offices at his own pleasure, and without having previously applied for his lord’s consent. He added these two verses from the poet:—

It was at last agreed that the Qhalissah should remain with L8tf-ollah-khan-sadyc, and the High-sadrship, with Afzol-khan; but this agreement, which seemed to have quashed much acrimony and discontent, did not fail to leave deep impressions on both sides. Nevertheless, the original cause of these commotions in the Empire, and of the insubordination in the grandees, (commotions which redounded to the ill renown of the Sëids, and which at last overwhelmed their own house and family)—the original cause of the commotions in the Empire, I say,—may be Feroh-syur’s incapacity and mean character. traced in the Emperor’s incapacity and in the particular cast of his genius. Feroh-syur had neither the extent of genius, nor the firmness of temper, nor the keenness of penetration, requisite in an Emperor. He was low-spirited, and homely-minded, as well as sordidly inclined; or if at any time he chanced to shew any liberality in his disposition, it was when he enjoyed the company of some low vile people, equally destitute of morals and capacity; and then he would thoughtlessly bestow on them, presents which they did not know what to do with, and offices which they were unable to manage. Such a disposition of mind bordered upon prodigality undoubtedly, but yet produced some present advantages, which being laid hold of by sycophants and other people of that stamp, never failed to be received with the highest applause; but such applause, however, as will never reach posterity. No wonder after that, if Freroh-syur was fond of keeping company with common street-sharpers; and hence the reason of his being so wedded to an Yticad-khan, and to a set of people upon a par with his Yticad-khan. The truth is, that being totally incapable of holding the reins of an Empire, and indeed incapable of any command at all, he was at a loss how to spend his time; and what is still more unfortunate for him, that Emir-djemlah, his confident, the opinionated man, of so much ambition, such high pretensions, and so much obstinacy and opposition, was himself unfit for any higher office, and yet wanted to overtop all the grandees of the Empire; and this unworthy favourite, who had made nothing of pulling down and destroying the families of an Assed-khan and a Zulficar-khan, two men whose houses were these one hundred and fifty years past in possession of immense wealth, as well as of the highest dignities and offices of the state, now thought of no less than demolishing two such noblemen as the Sëids—two men who had conferred the highest obligations on his master, and who now figured in the world, as the two principal men of the Empire. But this was precisely what wounded his jealous mind, and what set daggers in his rancorous heart.

However, the disease that had fastened on the vitals of the state, would have never risen to such a head, had not the administration of the most important affairs been strangely neglected by the very persons at the head of the Empire. The Vezir, Abdollah-khan, was a man of abilities, indeed; but so passionately fond of fine women, so addicted to feasting, music, and dancing, as well as to all kinds of pleasures, and, of course, so desirous of ease, that he was leaving the whole management of both his immense household and his high office to his Divan, Ratan-chand, a man who had been once a shop-keeper, but who by all means was too enthusiastic in his false religion to discharge decently all the duties of that important charge; and too narrow-minded likewise, to feel his own consequence and to act with a temper suitable to it. And yet it was such a man who, under his master’s name, carried every thing with a high hand, and enjoyed an uncontrolled influence all over the Empire of Hindostan. In consequence of so much incapacity on one side, and so much sloth and supineness on the other, enmities gained daily ground, and daily fuel was added to attentive rancour; and these enmities in their consequences rose to such an amazing height, as to overtop the sublime columns of the Timurian throne, which they crushed down at last under their weight, involving in its downfall the families of the two Sëids, which they demolished entirely, and ultimately altering the very constitution of the Empire.)

At last Emir-djemlah, and the Emperor with some others who expected great things from him, contrived, or at least thought they had contrived, a scheme for parting the two brothers, whose union and presence had become formidable. It was proposed to Hossëin-aaly-khan, the youngest, to undertake an expedition against Radja Adjet-sing-rhator, a powerful Hindoo Prince, who since the demise of the Emperor Aoreng-zib, had Scheme for parting the two Sëids. assumed great airs of independence, and had been guilty of some unwarrantable actions, such as, demolishing Mosques, in order to raise idol-temples on their ruins; and all that in the very middle of Oodeïpoor, his capital. Such excesses had necessarily passed unnoticed during the whole reign of Bahadyr-shah, who being eternally involved in civil wars, or busy in destroying the Syks, had no attention to spare for so inferior an object; for the Syks, from a fraternity of mendicants, had in his time become a whole army of banditties, which ruined and desolated the whole province of Lahor. Hossëin-aaly-khan, who was fond of glory and military achievements, soon closed with the proposal, and he set out at the head of a numerous well appointed army, Hossein-aaly-khan, undertakes an expedition against a Gentoo Prince. followed by a train of artillery, well served.^\(67\) Being arrived in the Radja’s country, he found him gone into a difficult mountainous tract, where he had concealed his family, treasures, and even troops, having never thought himself a match for so powerful an army; but what is singular, and strongly characterises the genius of the Court, the Hindoo prince was actually receiving letters from the capital, in which the Emperor exhorted him to stand upon his defence, and to crush his invader by every means in his power. The Hindoo Prince, unmoved by these impotent exhortations, thought it much more expedient to come to terms, and to obtain a pardon; nor would he have obtained it easily, if at all, had not Hossëin-aaly-khan, at this very time, received intelligence, that the jealous and envious of his family had laid hold of the opportunity afforded by his absence to spread a snare for entrapping and seizing his elder brother, Abdollah-khan. The latter, who had no certain intelligence, but who suspected mischief, sent letter after letter to request his brother’s immediate attendance. These letters having rendered Hossëin-aaly-khan exceedingly anxious, he thought it better to listen to the Radjah’s supplications, and to grant him some terms. And these were, that he should send his son to humble himself, in his father’s name, before the Imperial General, and also forward his daughter to the Imperial Seraglio, with a large sum of money, and a suitable set of presents.

Hossein-aaly-khan having put an end to this expedition, returned An end put to the expedition. to the capital, where his presence could not fail of raising a fresh ferment. For as the two brothers, in consequence of their enjoying the two highest offices of the Empire, possessed an unbounded influence in every affair, civil, and military; and Emir-djemlah, on his side, who wanted to render them odious, and to conciliate the favour of the public, was making it a point to use quickness and dispatch in whatever application was made to him. For (besides his being Keeper of the Emperor’s Private Signet)^\(68\) he had so far engrossed his master’s affection, that the latter had declared more than once, in full Durbar, or, in full Court, that, “Emir-djemlah’s Tongue and Manual Sign, were Feroh-syur’s Tongue and Manual Sign.” A Emir-djemlah, I say, found so much his account in forwarding the people’s business, he was therefore an eye-sore to the Vezir, Abdollah-khan, or, rather, to his minister, Rotan-chund, who, so soon as he could discover Emir-djemlah’s finger in any thing, or his signet in any patent, was sure of setting it aside without ever letting it pass the seals; whereas, whoever made a suitable present to himself, and another to his master, was certain of carrying his point, and that too with dispatch. Such a conduct could not fail to set daggers in the Emperor’s heart; and it must be acknowledged, that this man had conceived such high notions of Fatal jealousies between the Emperor’s favourite and his two ministers. himself, both on account of his immense wealth, and the unbounded influence of his master’s, that he had become of an insolence intolerable, which rendered him a general topic for obloquy and resentment; the more so, as by representing Emir-djemlah’s dispatch and accessibleness, as full of design and craft, he had rendered it odious to both brothers.

Emir-djemlah on his side, was perpetually dropping in the Emperor’s presence, words and expressions, all which had a tendency to depreciate the two brothers, whom he thought his duty to represent as overbearing, and of such a conduct and deportment, as seemed highly undutiful, and strongly favoured of independence. Moreover, he reflected, now and then, upon their abilities, as wholly inadequate to the high posts they pretended to fill. It was upon such and the like insinuations, that the Emperor had become so suspicious and fearful, that he had formed the plan of seizing Abdollah-khan’s person; and it was on that account that he had put himself on the footing of coming often out of the citadel, sometimes under pretence of a hunting, and sometimes under that of taking an airing in those delightful seats that adorn the suburbs, and especially in Mohsen-khan’s garden.^\(69\) But although he had the cunning to vary his pretences and schemes, he was too undecided and two faint hearted to bring any one to bear; nor did all his contrivances produce any other effect than that of heaping aversion upon aversion, and rancour upon rancour. But what is singular, and yet is universally reported, the Empress-mother herself, out of regard to the oath she had taken upon the Coran at Azimabad, and out of scruples of conscience, had more than once given the two brothers secret advice of what was actually planning against them.

It was in such circumstances that Hossëin-aaly-khan supplicated from the Emperor the Viceroyalty of Decan. Not that he intended to repair himself thither—nothing was further from his thoughts—he expected only that the immense emoluments of so rich a government would enable him to keep his footing Hossëin-aaly-khan obtains the Viceroyalty of Decan. at court; for his intention was only to send thither, as his Lieutenant, the famous Da8d-khan-péni, who was to return him the same contribution, which he used to pay to his late lord, Zulficar-khan. This was the very reverse of what the Emperor and his favourite intended; for they reckoned that he would repair to those rich, but very distant countries, and leave his brother alone. This could not suit Hossein-ally-khan, who thought it very improper to leave his brother alone exposed to all the resentment of the Emperor, and to all the machinations of his ministers. Such a difference in opinion having given vent to a number of peevish expressions, full fraught with haughtiness and reproach, matters at once shoot up to such a height, that the two brothers henceforward abstained from going to court, and also commenced fortifying their quarters, which they filled with troops. The Emperor, on hearing of this, sent for Emir-djemlah, Mahmed-amin-khan, and Qhandö8ran, and some others, with whom he was holding councils every day and every night, without coming to any determination; for he was so irresolute and so faint-hearted, that he could put nothing in execution. Meanwhile, the report of these dissensions being spread far and near, occasioned such a dearth of all kinds of The dissensions between the Emperor and the two brothers, occasion a scarcity in the capital. eatables in the capital that, inhabitants as well as travellers found it difficult to support life, although letters and messages were continually passing and repassing on that subject between the Emperor and the two brothers; and God knows, how far the distresses of the poor had been carried, had not the Empress-mother been so affected by what she heard of their miseries, that she came out of the palace, and went to pay a visit to Abdollah-khan, on whose mind she gained enough to engage him to be reconciled to the Emperor, on condition, that the two brothers, on going to pay him their respects, should have full permission to take, for their own safety, such precautions as they should deem sufficient, after which they should attend at court as heretofore. The treaty having had its full execution, the two brothers appeared before the Emperor, implored his forgiveness for the errors of their past conduct, and bitterly complained of certain suggestions and insinuations that filled his Imperial breast with suspicions, and estranged his Princely mind from them, his zealous and faithful servants. Grown warm with the occasion, they both loosened their sabres from their sides, placed them both at the Emperor’s feet; and the eldest went on with this address: “If we be guilty, here are our two heads, and there Speech of one of them to the Emperor. are two swords; or if a remembrance of our past services should render our execution unwelcome, please to divest us of our offices, and to dismiss us altogether from your service, that we may be at leisure to take a journey to the house of God, in order to heap honours upon our heads by visiting the tomb of the Prince of men (our glorious Ancestor, on whom be peace for ever!) or if your Majesty chooses to draw some further services from us, and to keep us near your sacred person, vouchsafe, great sire, to dismiss your suspicions, and cease to listen to the suggestions of a set of covetous, envious, designing tale-tellers, that are perpetually aiming at the lives of such faithful servants as we, without once minding how much blood we have spent in the Imperial cause. Be reconciled, great sire, to these your two approved servants, and cease to harbour sentiments equally repugnant to that sense of gratitude, so natural to generous minds, and to the stability of an agreement consecrated by the most tremendous oaths.”

This scen seemed to have affected the Emperor, and it produced a momentary reconciliation. After many conferences it was agreed, that the only way to put an end to suggestions and dissensions, was to part the two adversaries. Emir-djemlah was ordered to quit the court, and to repair to Azimabad, the government of which was given him for an honourable exile; and Hossëin-aaly-khan agreed to set out for his Viceroyalty of Decan, where nothing but his presence could curb the refractory of those countries, and quiet those that had submitted. This agreement, which satisfied both parties, was not much relished by Emir-djemlah, who thought himself sacrificed to the resentment of the two brothers; whereas, in reality, the whole intent of it on the part of the Emperor, was to increase his favourite’s means of power, and also to exasperate his mind. Hossëin-aaly-khan’s patent at the same time was drawing up; and orders were issued to the Governors of provinces and fortresses in all those parts, to all commanders, and to all crown-officers throughout the six and-a-half Soobadaries or provinces of Decan, in whatever station they might be, to submit to the new Viceroy, and to be henceforth obedient to his commands. Two letters of recall were likewise dispatched; one to Chin-kylydj-khan-nizam-el-mulk, Viceroy of Decan, with orders to quit his office, and to repair to the presence, and the other to Dä8d-khan-péni, Governor of G8djrat, requiring him to repair to Boorhanpoor, there to wait the new Viceroy’s arrival, whose commands he was to obey. But this was only the ostensible letter; a secret but a strong one was at the same time conveyed to him, enjoining him to lay in The Emperor’s insincerity. wait with a strong army at Boorhanpoor, where he was to spare no means to destroy Hossëin-aaly-khan and his troops, as in that case, he would himself be appointed Viceroy in his stead, and become a proper object for further favours and distinctions. It was after dispatching these secret instructions, that the Emperor thought of celebrating his nuptials with Adjet-sing’s daughter, as we shall soon relate; but as Dä8d-khan-péni is going to cut so great a figure in our history, it will not be out of its place to insert here an idea of his person and character, by giving some account of the disturbances and troubles to which his impudence and partiality had given occasion between the Mussulmen and Hindoos of Ahmed-abad, his capital.

In the second year of that officer’s administration, which was likewise the first of the Emperor’s, it happened that in the night, in which the Gentoos have it in custom to burn their H8ly,^\(70\) one of them was going to perform that rite in his own house-yard, a small part of which appertained to some Mussulmen’s houses, when these last objected to it. The Hindoo, having pleaded that every man was master in his own house, paid no regard to the objection, and burned his H8ly. The very next day, the Mussulmen, taking advantage of the Hindoo’s plea against himself, brought a cow within that very yard, and killed her with intention of eating in common, and distributing some victuals to the poor, as it was the day of the demise of the Crown of created things.^\(71\) This action brought upon them all the Gentoos of that quarter, who having overpowered the Mussulmen, put them to flight, and obliged them for their lives to conceal themselves in their houses. The Gentoos transported by a religious fury, sought out the butcher who had slaughtered the cow, and on not finding him, they dragged his son, an innocent youth of fourteen, into that very yard, and slaughtered him in atonement for what they deemed a sacrilege. The Mussulmen shocked at such a sight, set up a general hue and cry throughout the city, and drew after them, not only multitudes of the Mussulmen inhabitants, but likewise some thousands of Dä8d-khan-péni’s Afghan soldiers; and all these repaired to the Cazy or Supreme Judge’s lodgings. The Judge, who did not choose to meddle in an affair where he knew that the Governor had taken side with the Hindoos, shut his door in their faces. This could not but incense the Mussulmen who, carried away by their own prejudices, or possibly directed underhand by the Cazy himself, demolished and burned his gate, and having taken the magistrate’s person amongst themselves, as if to authorise their actions, they proceeded to set fire to the shops in the market-place, and to as many Hindoo houses as they met in their way; and they would have gone on burning and destroying, had they not been opposed by one Cop8r-chund, an eminent jewel-merchant, much in Religious troubles in Ahmed-abad. favour with the Governor, but a most violent zealot against the Mussulmen. This man seeing his own quarter in danger, armed himself and friends, shut the gate of his quarter, and put himself upon his defence. He placed musqueteers on the gate, opened port-holes, and a fray ensued between the two parties, in which numbers of lives were lost. The tumult continued for some days; the shops were shut throughout that great city, and business was at a stand. When the tumult had subsided, the Mussulmen who thought themselves the aggrieved party, deputed three men of note to carry their complaints to court, and these were the very men that had been pitched upon before, to manage an accommodation between the Mussulmen on one side, and the Governor, and Gentoos, on the other; to wit, Sheh-abdol-vahed, Sheh-mahmed-aaly, an eminent preacher, and Abdol-aaziz. Da8d-khan himself, who found his person compromised in this affair, deputed Cop8r-chund, after having put in his hand a S8rut-hal, or narrative of the whole disturbance signed by the governor, by the Cazy, by the Commander-in-Chief, and by all the Crown-officers, which certified that the Gentoos were not in the wrong, and that the Mussulmen were the aggressors. But as soon as the three deputies were arrived at the capital, they were all three cast in prison by Ratan-chund’s management, a man zealous in his sect, who found means to stifle their complaints. And God only knows how long these innocent persons had remained in prison, had not Qhoadjä-mahmed-djaafer, the dervish or religious, chanced to hear of them, and concerned himself in their unhappy case. This personage was no less a man than a brother to Qhandö8ran, one of the principal lords of the court; a pious man, who devoted to the love of God, had renounced the world and lived retired. It was in his retreat that he heard of Ratan-chund’s cruel partiality; and from thence that he requested his brother to get those unfortunate persons released. So great a favour made such an impression upon one of them, namely, on Sheh-mahmed-aaly, the Väez or preacher, that from that moment he attached himself to his benefector; and as it was customary for a number of public singers and comedians to assemble in his retreat, and in the effusions of their ardent zeal, to sing verses in honour of the Crown of created things, and of his twelve descendants, to the unspeakable delight of the illustrious holy man; the preacher who now was become a frequenter of that retreat, made it a practice, after Religious troubles in the Capital. he had done preaching, to say a few sentences in honour of the Messenger, and then to launch out in the praises of the twelve Imams or Pontiffs, his pious descendants: a novelty which was likely to excite commotions in the capital, but which, however, excited none, as we shall shortly mention; our business at present being to say a few words about the Emperor’s nuptials with his intended bride, the daughter of the Hindoo Prince, Radja-adjet-sing.^\(72\) Her father, in dismissing her, had put in her hands a number of important papers which she was to deliver to the Emperor, namely, the letters and order he had received for opposing and destroying Hossëin-aaly-khan by any means in his power. Whether during that nobleman’s journey to court, or during the Ranie’s or Gentoo Princess’s residence in his palace, it is certain that Hossëin-aaly-khan found means to get at these papers, and also to quiet the inquietude which the Ranie felt on finding that they had been in his hands. These papers, of course, were produced by the two brothers to the Emperor, who made an apology for them, when his mother managed an agreement between her son and them. This explanation having put an end to the dissensions and disputes, and peace having been further confirmed by Emir-djemlah’s being exiled from court, the Emperor thought of celebrating his nuptials with the Ranie, as it had been agreed that, after that ceremony should be over, Hossëin-aaly-khan would set out for his Viceroyalty of Decan.

The Emperor, therefore, laid his commands on his household officers for making the necessary preparations for that solemnity, and they in a short time performed their business. But this not satisfying Hossëin-aaly-khan who thought his honour concerned, as the Princess had been brought to court by his means, had been all this while lodged in his palace, and might be deemed his adoptive daughter, he made it a point to give that solemnity all the magnificence and all that splendour for which Hindostan is famous; and he made such preparations both for Magnificent preparatives made by one of the two brothers, on the solemnity of the Emperor’s nuptials with a Hindoo Princess. the bride and the bride-groom as exceeded all that had even been heard in the capital, as well as all that had been done for the greatest Radjahs and Kings of Decan, or for even the magnificent Emperors of Hindostan. The furniture, jewels, and illuminations surpassed by much any thing that had been done by the Emperor himself. As soon as night came on, an infinity of fires and imitative stars threw out at once such a blaze as seemed to dispute of pre-eminence with the starry host of the firmament, and to reproach it with its inferior twinkling. Whilst the artificial parterres, by the variety of their colours, and the different shades of their hues, gave the beholder an idea of the celebrated gardens of Irem.^\(73\) Pleasures and shews of all sorts, as well as splendid entertainments, followed each other with so uninterrupted a profusion, that the lowest man in the city could partake of them, as well as the highest; and surprise, delight, and hilarity would run after every one of the spectators, like so many beings put in motion by some animal instinct. Such were the throngs and the crowds of attendance, and such the concourse of spectators, that the streets and markets of such an immense city seemed to have become narrower, and each of them more uneasy than the heart of a lover in despair; and, on the other hand, pleasure and joy were enlivening every face with such a bloom of florid freshness that the flowers of the gardens were stung with the pangs of envy, and roses felt themselves seated on the thorns of jealousy. At last, after several days of so animated a scenery, the Emperor attended by his whole Court, repaired to a noble hall of Hossëin-aaly-khan’s palace, where an illustrious assembly was waiting for him; and the reading of the marriage ritual having closed the ceremony, the Emperor took his bride in his own cortege, and in the middle of a music, whose delightful sounds filled the air with gladness, he hastened to his Imperial habitation. It was on a Thursday, the 22nd of Zilhidj, in the year of 1127 of the Hedjra.

Who would have thought that such a scene of pleasure and delight would have been followed at once by religious disturbances? Sheh-abdollah, a divine of note, from M8ltan, having come to the capital on some particular business, took his abode near the cathedral, where he often preached to crowded audiences, with whom he soon acquired so much celebrity, that the very passages to that mosque were always thronged. Once he went to pay a visit to Qhoadja-djaafer, that religious nobleman, of whom we have already spoken; and on observing that some of the latter’s followers and disciples always saluted him with a prosternation, in which they kissed the ground, and also that the comedians and singers, who frequented that holy retreat, made it a practice to sing verses in honour of the Messenger’s Immaculate Spirit, and that of his sacred offspring, he was scandalized; and he remarked: “That prosternation was appropriated to God Almighty alone, and, of course, unlawful and indecent for any other. That to listen to songs and verses in matters of religion, was reprobated and forbidden. And that to content oneself with a few praises in honour of the Crown of created things, in order to launch out in the praises of his descendants, without saying a word of his venerable four successors, was repugnant to the principles of Mussulmanism.” Qhoadja-djafer answered that, as religious persons as well as their followers acknowledge the omnipresence of no being existing, but that of God Almighty, it was impossible that they should pay a prosternation to any other being, and, of course, impossible that their Directors should connive at such a practice. But that, at any rate, men, who, transported by the extacies of their zeal, fancied everywhere present the object of their adoration and love, and therefore prostrated themselves on that ground, and kissed it devoutly, would not be likely to give over their practice upon any one’s representations; and if that were the case, how could he prevent it, and where was his fault in not putting a stop to it. He ended by these verses:—

“As to the singing of the comedians, and the verses of public singers, these people sing nothing but what they have learned from their masters; nor do I choose to interfere in their singing, it being no business of mine. As to your own part, if you know of any verses in praise of the four Lords,^\(74\) do impart them to these people, that they may sing them; and that it may become a practice for them at all times, and in all places.

This answer could not satisfy Sheh-abdollah, who strongly suspecting that it could not have come out but from a man inclined to the Shyah sect, went away discontented; and on his next sermon day he reflected on Qhoadja-djafer’s words, as favouring of Shyism, and condemned them openly. He added some invidious assertions: “For instance, that Aaly-morteza, son of Aab8-taalub, was not within the cloak.^\(75\) That it was, improper to call him a Sëid; and that the expression of five pure bodies^\(76\) was contrary to the principles of Sunnism; for, whoever should admit the same would thereby give an implied exclusion to the three other Lords, as not being equally pure.” He added several words and expressions, all tending to depreciate the Imamite sect; and he seemed to aim at casting reflections and strictures upon its tenets and practices. Qhoadja-djafer, on hearing of that sermon, sent him word, that to drop such expressions from the pulpit was dissonant from the current belief, and repugnant to the custom and usages of the Sunni sect, and might possibly give offence, and excite dissensions. That should he choose to come to his humble cottage, or to any other place, where a number of learned persons might be assembled, he flattered himself that the trouble he would be put to would not be without its advantage, as he might thereby find an opportunity of having his doubts tried by the rules of reasoning, and the authority of tradition. For, in that case, they would be referred to the most approved writings of the Sunni sect, and to the six holy collections.

This message was received with expressions of peevishness and resentment; and a few days after, a multitude of young thoughtless men, of an Iranian extraction,^\(77\) having assembled at the cathedral in sermon time, placed themselves full in the preacher’s face, with their beads and amulets of Kerbella clay before them,^\(78\) using at the same time some threatening expressions and gestures. This was resented by two or three thousands of his followers, all of the Sunni sect, who suspecting this scene to have been concerted by Qhoadja-djafer, and the whole intended against their preacher’s safety, took fire at once, and falling upon the young men with reproaches of impiety and blasphemy, they drove them out of the mosque. And this affair was likely to end there. But an ill-fated Hindoo, who was a military man of some character, and had come to hear the sermon, having chanced to go out immediately after them,^\(79\) was remarked by some people, and in particular by one of the servants of the mosque, who taking him to be one of those that had just given so much offence, ran after him with an intention to stop or kill him; but the man having turned round and killed his pursuer, he was soon overtaken by some others, who hacked him to pieces; nor would the multitude for three days together suffer his body to be taken up, being in expectation to get some further lights from such as might come to do him that office. After this unhappy affair, some of the most zealous of the preacher’s followers having found access to some principal courtiers, and by them to the throne, went in a body to the Emperor, and complained that Qhoadja-djafer wanted to excite a schism in the Sunni sect, similar to that which had excited commotions in the reign of Bahadyr-shah, when that Prince attempted to introduce the words Aaly is Heir to God’s Elect into the Mussulman profession of faith. And they added that as something still more serious seemed to be in agitation, it was better that the offender should be commanded to quit the capital.

One would hardly believe that so small a commotion should have excited such heats in that immense city. For whereas it was heretofore common enough to see professed singers and others go singing about the streets the praises of the pure and holy offspring; and numbers of even learned men used often to stop and to take a pleasure in hearing their verses and music; now matters became so much altered, that such singers were sure of being hooted, and accused of impiety and blasphemy. The Emperor on hearing of this new disturbance, consulted the Cazy Sheriat-ollah-khan, on the subject, as the most eminent divine that attended the Court. The theologian answered that “what Sheh-abdollah had said would not stand the test of a confrontation with the best treatises on the Sunni tenets, and that therefore, it would prove difficult to convict Qhoadja-djafer of heterodoxy. But as on the other hand, it would be proper to put an end to this ferment, he gave it as his private opinion, that the Qhoadja should be requested to change his abode, by retiring to the suburb, the more so, as there would be neither harm nor trouble in that. This decision was no sooner rumoured about, than Qhando8ran, one of the principal Lords of the Court, and a Minister of state, having sent for the preacher, inquired of him what might be the subject of his wishes in coming so far to the capital, and whether he had any commands for him; and the preacher having answered accordingly, Qhando8ran dispatched his business in a few days, and wished him a prosperous journey to M8ltan, his native country. At the same time he paid a respectful visit to His Holiness, Qhoadja-djafer, and in the course of a conversation on that subject, he supplicated in humble terms the Holy man’s condescension, giving it as his private opinion, that if he would change his abode for a time, so far as to take his residence at the monument of Saint Nizam-med-din, in the suburbs, such a concession would effectually shut up the mouths of his opponents. In this manner the commotion, which bore a threatening aspect, subsided at once. It was high time; for very serious troubles were rising in the northern parts of the Empire.

In the year one thousand one hundred and twenty-eight of the Hedjra, that is, in the fifth year of Feroh-syur’s, a bloody action happened in the plains of the Pendjab, between the Sycs and the Imperialists, in which the latter commanded by Abdol-semed-khan, a famous Viceroy of that province, gave those inhuman freebooters a great defeat in which their General, Benda, fell into the victor’s hands. This barbarian, whom nature had formed for a butcher, trusting to the numbers and repeated successes of those other butchers he commanded, had exercised upon the Some account of the Sycs, and especially of Benda, their actual leader; and of Nanec-shah, their patriarch people of God cruelties that exceeded all belief, laying waste the whole province of Lahor. Flushed with victories, he had even aspired to a crown; and we shall say something of his history and person. He was a Syc by profession, that is, one of those men attached to the tenets of G8r8-govind,^\(80\) and who from their birth or from the moment of their admission, never cut or shave either their beard or whiskers, or any hair whatever of their body. They form a particular society as well as sect, which distinguishes itself by wearing almost always blue clothes,^\(81\) and going armed at all times. These, when once admitted into that fraternity, never make any difficulty of mixing or communicating with one another, of whatever tribe or clan or race they may have been hitherto; nor do they ever betray any thing of those scruples, precautions, and antipathies and customs,^\(82\) so deeply rooted in the Gentoo mind, whatever diversity or opposition there may have hitherto been in their tenets, principles, or common way of life. This sect or fraternity, which spread itself far and near about the latter part of Aoreng-zib’s reign, reckons for its institutor, a G8r8-govind, one of the successors of Nanec-shah, the patriarch of the sect; and here is what we know of this Nanec-shah. He was son to a grain-merchant of the Catri tribe; and in his youth he had been as remarkable for a good conduct and a laudable character, as well as for the beauty of his face, and the sensibleness of his repartees.^\(83\) Nor was he destitute of money. There was then in those parts a fakir or religious of note, called Sëid-hassen, a man of eloquence as well as wealth, who having no children of his own, and being smitten with the beauty of young Nanec, upon whom he chanced to cast his eyes, conceived an affection for him, and charged himself with his education. As the young man was early introduced to the knowledge of the most esteemed writings of the Mussulmen, and early initiated in the principles of their most approved sophies^\(84\) and contemplatives, he improved so much in learning, and became so fond of his books, that he made it a practice in his leisure hours, to translate literally or virtually, as his mind prompted him, such of those maxims, as made the deepest impression upon his heart. This was in the idiom of Pendjab,^\(85\) his maternal language. Little by little he strung together these loose sentences, reduced them into some order, and put them in verses, and by this time he had so far shaken off those prejudices of Gentilism which he had imbibed with his milk, that he was become quite another man. His collection becoming numerous, it took the form of a book, which was entitled Grent, and became so famous in the times of Sultan Babr, as to give celebrity to its author, who from that day was followed by multitudes of spectators or well-wishers. This book is to this day held in so much veneration and esteem amongst the Sycs, that they never touch or read it, without putting on a respectful air and posture. And in reality, as it is a compound of what he had found most valuable in those books which he had been perusing, and it is written with warmth and eloquence, it has necessarily all the merits and attractions peculiar to truth and sound sense.

In times of yore, the religious persons of that fraternity could not be distinguished, either in their garb or their usages, from the Mussulmen fakirs; nor is the difference easily perceptible even to this day. They live in communities both in villages and towns, and their habitations are called Sangats,^\(86\) where we always see some one that presides over all the rest. Nanec, their patriarch, left only two children. One of whom when grown up, used to amuse himself with hunting and all the other pleasures of high life; and in this he has been imitated by his descendants to this day, all of whom are reputed heirs and partakers of his authority. The other son, having addicted himself to a religious life, and taken up the garb of it, his followers have done the same, and look to all intents and purposes like so many Mussulmen The Patriarch Nanec is not succeeded by any of his children, but only by Angad, his servant. fakirs. But what is strange, Nanec-shah had not for his immediate successor, either the one or the other of his children, but only a servant of his, called Angad, who sat on the patriarch’s carpet with full authority.^\(87\) The ninth in succession from this Angad was one Tygh-bahadyr,^\(88\) who was of such an extraordinary character, as drew multitudes after him, all which as well as their leader went always armed. This man finding himself at the head of so many thousands of people, became aspiring; and he united his concerns with one Hafyz-aadem, a Mussulman fakir, and one of those that styled themselves of Sheh-ahmed-serhindi’s fraternity. These two men no sooner saw themselves followed by multitudes, implicitly addicted to their chief’s will, than forsaking every honest calling, they fell a subsisting by plunder and rapine, laying waste the whole province of Pendjab; for whilst Tygh-bahadyr was levyiny contributions upon the Hindoos, Hafyz-aadem was doing the same upon the Mussulmen. Such excesses having soon attracted the notice of the Crown-officers, gazetteers, and intelligencers, they wrote to the Emperor Aoreng-zib, that these two men made it a practice to live by plunder and sack. In answer to such an advice, the Emperor commanded the Viceroy of Pendjab, residing at Lahor, to seize these two miscreants, and to send the Mussulman to the country of Afghans, quite up to the last limits of Hindostan, beyond the Atec,^\(89\) with defense to him to cross it again under pain of death. Tygh-bahadyr, the other freebooter, he was to send prisoner to the castle of G8aliar. The Governor executed his orders punctually. Some days after there came an order to the Governor of G8aliar, to put Tygh-bahadyr to death, to cut his body into four quarters, and to hang them at the four gates of the fortress, a sentence which was literally executed. But this execution was followed by mournful consequences. Hitherto the Sycs had always worn the religious garb without any kind of arm or weapon at all; but G8r8-govind having succeeded The Sycs, from mendicants, become soldiers. to his father, distributed his numerous followers by troops, which he put under the command of his best friends, to whom he gave orders to provide themselves with arms and horses. As soon as he saw them accoutred and mounted, he commenced plundering the country, and raising contributions. But he did not go long unpunished The Fodjdars of the province joining together, fell upon those freebooters, and soon dispersed them; but G8r8-govind’s two sons having fallen alive in their hands, were put to death. The father’s situation was now become full as dangerous. Hunted down everywhere like a wild beast, he retired to a stronghold which secured his person for the present, but at the same time, precluded his escaping to his country and family beyond Serhend, the country betwixt being full of troops and garrisons. The man prompted by his critical situation, applied to the Afghan mountaineers that live behind Serhend, and he promised them a large sum of money, if they could contirve to carry him to a place of safety. A number of these accepted the bargain, and oming down from their mountains, they engaged him to let grow his beard, whiskers, and every other hair of his body; and when they saw it of a proper length, they put upon him a short blue garb like that used amongst those highlanders, brought him out of his stronghold amongst themselves, and made him traverse the whole country, not only with perfect safety, but also with honour. For whenever anyone put any question about this man which they paid so much respect to, they would answer, that he was a Pir-zada or Holy man of theirs, the Pir-zada of 8tch. G8r8-govind having been so lucky as to extricate himself out of so great a danger, conserved the Afghan garb in memory of that event; and he even made it henceforward the distinctive garb of his followers, no one of which could be admitted into it, unless his hair and beard proved of the proper length, and his garb of the proper pattern. But the loss of his children had made so deep an impression on his heart, that he lost his mind, fell in demencey, and shortly after died of grief and sorrow. He was succeeded by Benda, that butcher-like man, of whom we have spoken above. This infernal man having assembled multitudes of desperate fellows, all as enthusiasts and all as thirsty of revenge as himself, commenced ravaging the country with such a barbarity as had never had an example in India. They spared no Mussulman, whether man, or woman, or child. Pregnant women had their bellies ripped open, and their children dashed against their faces, or against the walls. The Emperor, (and it was the mild Bahadyr-shaw) shuddered on hearing of such atrocious deeds. He was obliged to send against those barbarians not only the troops of the province, but entire armies, and these, too, commanded by Generals of importance, such as, the Lord of Lords, Munaam-qhan, who at the head of thirty thousand horse enclosed that scelerat in the fort of L8hgar, where he besieged him. The man, after having defended himself for some time, contrived to give him the slip by an expedient in which he shewed as much sagacity and wisdom as animal courage and prowess. Nevertheless being still pursued, he was encircled again by three Generals that had joined their troops together. It was Mahmed-amin-qhan, Aghyr-qhan, and Rostem-dil-qhan. But his genius, fertile in expedients, extricated him again. Not that he made any stand before the Imperial troops; he hardly gave them an opportunity to see him. Perpetually on the wing, he kept out of their way, when having given them the slip, he suddenly sallied forth at an opposite side, like some savage escaped from the hunter’s nets, and then he put every thing to fire and sword, massacring every Mussulman, and destroying every temple and every sepulchre of theirs which he could find, in so much, that his ravages and barbarities seemed to go on increasing; and such was the state of things, when Bahadyr-shah departed this life. His children, occupied in disputes about the throne, had no attention to spare for Benda, so that his power became formidable at last. On Feroh-syur’s accession to the throne, Eslem-khan, Viceroy of Lahor, received orders to destroy those freebooters; but those freebooters defeated him totally in a pitched battle, and that Viceroy after losing the greatest part of his men, retired within Lahor, with his full measure of shame. Benda elated by so unexpected a success, recommenced his barbarities with more fury than ever. It was some time after this battle that Bayezid-khan, Fodjdar of Serhend, hearing of Benda’s approach, thought it better to meet him half way; and he was encamped without the walls, when in the evening he retired to a private tent, where with a small congregation he was performing the afternoon prayers when a Syc, as desperate doubtless as any of Hassan-saba’s devoted young men,^\(90\) having crept under the wall of the tent, gave him a mortal stab, as he was prostrating himself, and in the confusion and surprise which ensued, he retired to his brethren without receiving any hurt. This piece of intelligence having soon reached the capital, the Emperor commanded Abdol-semed-khan, a T8ranian Viceroy of Cashmir, who entertained several thousands of his countrymen, to march against those scelerats, and to encourage him in that expedition, the Emperor sent him the patent of the government of Lahor for his son, Zecariah khan. This General, who since became so famous, had with him several thousand troopers of his nation, with several commanders of the highest distinction, such as, Kamer-eddin-khan, whom we shall see Vezir-aazem in the sequel, Mahmed-amin-khan, and Aghyr-khan. They were at the head of their own troops, to which the Emperor added several bodies of his own guards, such as, the Vala-shahies, and the Ahedians.^\(91\)

With such reinforcements Abdol-semed-khan, who waited only for a train of artillery, set out for Lahor, after having appointed for his Lieutenant, at Cashmir, his own slave Aref-khan, and taking with him the troops he found encamped at that city, he marched in quest of the barbarians. As he had a good army in which were several thousands of his own countrymen, these troops fell with such fury upon those wild beasts, and they repeated their attacks with so uninterrupted a perseverance, that they crushed them to atoms; nor did the General give over the pursuit, until he had made an end of them. That miscreant of Benda stood his ground to the amazement of all, and in the first engagement he fought so heroically, that he was very near giving a complete defeat to the Imperial General; for although beaten and vigorously pursued, he retired from post to post, like a savage of the wilderness from thicket to thicket, losing endlessly his men, and occasioning losses to his pursuers. At last worn down by such an incessant pursuit, he retired to Goordas-poor, the native country of most of those barbarians, and where their chief had long ago built a strong castle, in which they kept their wives and families with the booty they used to make in their courses. The Imperial General blockaded it immediately; nor was the place unfurnished with provisions. But the multitudes that had successively retired thither were so considerable, and the besiegers kept so watchful a guard, that not a blade of grass, nor a grain of corn, could find its way to the fort; and the magazines within being at last emptied of their contents as the blockade drew to a length, a famine commenced its ravage The Sycs, after a multitude of bloody actions, are destroyed. amongst the besiegers, who fell a eating any thing that came in their way. Asses, horses, and even oxen became food, and what is incredible, cows were devoured. Nevertheless such was the animosity of those wild beasts, and such their consciousness of what they had deserved, that not one of them would talk of a surrender. But every thing within, even to the most venerable, as well as to the most loathsome, having already been turned into food and devoured, and this having produced a bloody flux that swept them by shoals, the survivors asked for quarter, and offered to open their gates. The Imperial General ordered them to repair to an eminence, where they would see a pair of colours planted, and where they were to depose their arms and clothes, after which they might repair to his camp. The famished wretches obliged to comply with an order which foreboded nothing good, obeyed punctually like beasts reduced to their last shift, and having been made fast hand and foot, they were made over to his Moghuls or Tartars, who had orders to carry them close to the river that ran under their walls, and there to throw the bodies after having beheaded them all. The officers and principal men were put in irons, and ordered to march in a body, mounted upon lame, worn down, mangy asses and camels, with each of them a paper-cap upon his head; and it was with such a cortege that the General entered the city of Lahor, which he reached in few days. It happened that Bayezid-khan’s mother, an old T8ranian woman, lived in that city, and hearing what had happened, and that her son’s murderer was amongst the prisoners, she requested her attendants to point him to her. For, the man having acquired a character amongst his brethren by such a daring action, had been nick-named Baz-sing by them,^\(92\) and had been promoted to a considerable office. The old woman having got upon a terrace that overlooked the street, lifted up a large stone which she had provided, and being directed by the sound, (for she was blind) she let it fall so luckily, that she killed him outright; and the old lady, after this action, said, that she would now die satisfied, and revenged. But this action having, as a signal, roused the people of that city, and the General conceiving that he might lose all his prisoners through the fury of the mob, ordered them to be conveyed to a place of safety amongst the baggage, where they were covered with trappings of elephants, and every thing that could conceal them from the people’s eyes. The next day, he set out of the city at day-break, and with the same precaution, his intention being to present them alive to the Emperor. For further precaution, they were put under the care of Camer-eddin-khan, and his own son, Zacariah-khan, and forwarded to the capital under a strong escort. As soon as they had arrived in the outskirts of the city, the Emperor sent out Mahmed-amin-khan, with orders to bring them in, mounted as they were, but preceded by a number of heads fixed upon pikes, amongst which should be seen Benda, with his face besmeared with black, and a wooden-cap on his head. That wretched himself, having been brought before the Emperor, was ordered to the castle, where he was to be shut up, with his son, and two or three of his chief Commanders. The others were carried by a hundred at a time every day, to the Cotval’s tribunal, where they were beheaded, until the whole number of them was completed. But what is singular, these people, not only behaved quietly during the execution, but they would dispute and wrangle with each other, who should be executed first, and they made interest with the executioner for that very purpose. In this manner the whole number of these wretched beings told over, and every one of them having received what he had so long deserved, Benda himself was produced; and Benda undergoes an excruciating death. his son being placed on his lap, the father was ordered to cut his throat, which he did without uttering one word. Being then brought nearer to the Magistrate’s tribunal, the latter ordered his flesh to be torn off with red-hot pincers, and it was in those torments that he expired, his black soul taking its flight by one of those holes towards the regions for which it seemed so well fitted. It is reported, that Mahmed-amin-khan, having had the curiosity to come close, and to look at the man, was surprised at the nobleness of his features. Struck with such an appearance, he could not help speaking to the wretch. “It is surprising,” said he, “that one that shews so much acuteness in his features and so much nobilities in his conduct, should have accumulated upon his head a multitude of horrid crimes that would ruin him infallibly in this world as well as the other— crimes that had brought him at last to so excruciating an end.” The man, with the greatest composure, answered in these terms:— “I will tell you, my Lord. Whenever men become so corrupt and wicked, as to relinquish the path of equity and to abandon themselves to all kinds of excesses, then it happens, in all countries and in all religions, that Providence never fails to suscite such a murderer as me, whose only office is to chastise a race become totally criminal. But when the measure of punishment has been filled, then the butcher’s office ceases, and his mission is over, and then, that some Providence never fails to suscite such a mighty man as you, whose mission is to lay hold of the barbarian, and to consign him to condign punishment.”

After having been carried thus far by a digression which we thought we owed our readers upon the Sycs, it is but natural that we should revert to the thread of our history, especially as the dissensions at Court carried a most threatening aspect, and seemed to presage infinite ills to the whole Empire. We have already related how it had been agreed between the two rival contending parties that, on Emir-djemlah’s quitting the Court, Hossein-aaly-khan should repair to his post in Decan, and how his departure had been delayed on some particular accounts. At last, after having accomplished all his views, that Viceroy set out, Threat of one of the brothers to the Emperor himself. but not without repairing first to Court, and telling the Emperor and his confidants, plainly, “that if, in his absence, any thing should be attempted against his brother, the Vezir Abdollah-khan, His Majesty might rest assured that he would quit everything, in order to be again in the Capital within twenty days, at most.” This open threat having only shewn to the Emperor, how powerful the Viceroy thought himself, he was no sooner gone, than the Ministers dispatched letter after letter to Da8d-khan-peni, Governor of G8djrat, an Afghan of an illustrious pedigree, who had acquired such a high character in those southern countries by his great bodily strength and his heroical prowess, that he was revered in all that tract, and held in the highest esteem with the rulers and generals of the Marhatta Empire. Those letters brought him the patent of the government of B8rhanp8r added to his own, with orders to repair thither at the head of his army, it being on the high road to Decan, and to demolish Hossëin-aaly-khan and his troops, by any means in his power, after which he would of course succeed him in that Viceroyalty, then become vacant. On the receipt of these instructions Da8d-khan, who made but little account of his enemy, repaired to B8rhanp8r, Dä8d-khan-peni, a famous warrior of Decan, prepares to oppose Hossëin-ally-khan. where he without hesitation assumed all the state of a Viceroy of Decan. This intelligence having been soon conveyed to Hossëin-aaly-khan, the latter wrote to the Afghan that, “as he (Hossëin-aaly-khan) was actually invested with that Viceroyalty, it was but proper that he, Da8d-khan-peni, should come to pay his respects to his superior, and shew himself ready to execute his commands, this being so very conformable to the rules of service; else, he had better repair to the Emperor’s Court at once, without giving so unjustifiable an example to those refractory countries, and rendering himself guilty of proceedings that could end in nothing but in disturbances and dissensions.” This letter having not made the least impression upon Da8d-khan, he came out of B8rhanpoor, and encamped in the plain fully resolved on a vigorous opposition. He at the same time invited over a number of Marhatta Generals, who had become Crown-servants, having been decorated with grades and commands of honour and emoluments, such as, of five and seven, thousand horse, so early as the reign of Bahadyr-shah. The most