Siyar al-Muta'ahirin - The Seir Mutaqherin, Volume 2

and having at the same time spied some parties which were flying Seradj-ed-döulah betrayed and defeated at Palassy. (for they were of the complot), they disbanded likewise, and fled, every one taking example from his neighbour; and as the flight now had lost all its shame, whole bodies fled although no one pursued; and in a little time the camp remained totally empty. Seradj-ed-döulah informed of the desertion of his troops, was amazed; and fearing not only the English he had in his front, but chiefly the domestic enemies he had about his person, he lost all firmness of mind. Confounded by that general abandonment, he joined the runaways himself; and after marching the whole night, he the next day at about eight in the morning arrived at his palace in the city. He had ordered that his principal Commanders should attend with their troops for the safety of his person, until he might take breath, and resolve on what he was to do next; but none attended to what he said, and every one, without ceremony, went to his own home; even Mirza-iredj-qhan, his father-in-law, did the same. In vain did the Prince lay his turbant at his feet, and intreat him for God’s sake to remain with him, and to assemble some troops about his palace, that he might stay with safety, if staying should become proper; or depart with some decency, should flight become necessary. He would not hear, and he also quitted him under a variety of pretences, and went to his house. Seradj-ed-döulah abandoned by his troops, and deserted by his whole Court, resolved to retain some people at least about his person; and he ordered that whoever had any demand upon the treasury, should be immediately satisfied. Numbers immediately thronged into it, some for their arrears, and some for advances to help themselves out. Some others likewise, under a variety of pretences, crowded into it, and received as much as they pretended to; for orders had been given to reject no man; so that during the whole night the treasury was full of people, who took money on every pretence they could devise, and carried it home; but none remained with him notwithstanding that liberality; for he had mistaken the time when it was necessary, not only to abstain from acquiring gold and wealth, but also to spend that already hoarded up at home. He had never thought of being liberal, nor ever had entertained any thoughts about restraining either his tongue or hand from injuring and oppressing people; and now that the day of retribution was already at hand, the day when he was in his turn to suffer all kinds of miseries and all kinds of torments in his own person, he betook himself to a distribution of treasures. He ought to have remembered what the Poet has said:

Seradj-ed-döulah finding himself left alone for a whole day in his palace, without a single friend to unbosom his mind with, and without a single companion, to speak to, took a desperate resolution.—In the dead of the night he put Lutf-en-nessa, his consort, and a number of favourites into covered coaches and covered chairs, loaded them with as much gold, and as many as jewels as they could contain, and taking with him a number of elephants with his best baggage and furniture, he quitted his palace about three in the morning, and fled; it was the seventh of Shevval. By one of those fatalities so conspicuous in the fate of persons of high stations, and which proceeded from his own ignorance of the world, and the unsteadiness of his temper, instead of taking to the left hand, and going to Radj-mahl, as he had determined at first, he struck to the right, and went to Bagvangolah, where he immediately embarked on a number of boats which are at all times kept ready in that station. But if instead of taking that fatal resolution, he had continued his journey by land, as it had been his intention, and had sent notice to some Commanders of his, who had not yet joined the malcontents, it is past doubt that numbers of them would have followed him, through personal attachment, and many more by a principle of avarice and ambition; in a few hours’ time he would have been joined by some thousands; and people seeing him so well accompanied, would have not dared to oppose his journey. It is even probable that his retinue would have swelled at every stage, and that he would have found himself at last at the head of a respectable force. But what man has had it in his power to withstand his own destiny; and how is it possible to parry the decrees of an impending fate? Seradj-ed-döulah, now in his boats, was advancing on his way to Azim-abad; for on the first motions of the English from Calcutta he had wrote a pressing letter to M8shur Lass to recommend his coming down immediately, without losing a moment. Unfortunately, instead of a bill of exchange, he had sent him an order upon the treasury of the province of Azim-abad; and as slowness of motion seems to be of etiquette with the people of Hindostan, the disbursing of this money took up so much time, that when Lass was come down, as far as Radj-mahal he found that all was over, and that Seradj-ed-dülah was no more; his person having already been seized by Mir-djaafer-qhan’s people, who had completed their revenge upon him. M8shur Lass being arrived at Radj-mahal, soon heard of the catastrophe, and he returned to Azim-abad. He was hotly pursued by Major Coote, who is now come with the title of General from Europe, and was then only a Major with Colonel Clive; his orders were to pursue vigorously, and in case of need, to fight. In fact he pursued incessantly; but Lass, having gained a day’s march upon him, continued retreating until he was beyond Bacsar, and beyond the Keremnassa; that is, until he had been chased beyond the last limits of Seradj-ed-döulah’s dominions; after which the Major returned to his Commander.

Mir-djaafer-qhan, finding that by Seradj-ed-dülah’s flight, the wind was blowing in his favour, tarried one day at Palassy, where he had an interview with Colonel Clive, and with the English Rulers. There he renewed his engagements and promises to them, took their troops in his service, and then marched with them to M8rsh8d-abad. Upon his march he was informed of Seradj-ed-dülah’s flight, of the general desertion amongst his Commanders and troops; and of their being unanimously on his side, together with the principal men of the city.^\(124\) On this intelligence he, on the morning of the next day, made his entry in the city, and took up his quarters in Seradj-ed-döulah’s palace of Mans8r-gundj, whence he got himself proclaimed all over the Mir-djaafer-qhan proclaimed all over the city of M8rsh8d-abad. city. On this report both the traitors, his associates, and those that sought only their own repose under an appearance of neutrality, hastened to offer their congratulations, and to present their homages; and even those few who still stuck to Seradj-ed-döulah in their hearts, and were not pleased with the revolution, found themselves obliged to join the throng, for fear of being pointed at with the finger, and of becoming objects of chastisement and oppression. Mir-djaafer-qhan, in the full possession of Sovereign power, beat loud the drum of dominion and command; and in conjunction with Radja D8l8b-ram, whom he made his first Minister, and the centre of all transactions, he applied himself to the business of quieting the minds of the people; but his first care was to take possession of Seradj-ed-döulah’s treasures,^\(125\) and to divide them with the English, according to the terms of the agreement concluded in his name, by Radja D8l8b-ram. But as he was very much smitten with the charms of the title of Mehabet-djung, which had been borne by Aaly-verdy-qhan, he ordered a new seal to be engraven for himself, where he assumed the style and titles of Shudjah-el-mulk, Hyssam-ed-döulah, Mir-djaafer-aaly-qhan-bahadyr, Mehabet-djung; that is, the high and valiant Lord Mir-djaafer-qhan, who is the Valorous of the State, the Sword of the Empire, and the Formidable in War, and the Majestic in Battles. At the same time he bestowed on his son the title of Shahamet-djung, or Valorous in War, which had been borne by the late Nevazish-mahammed-qhan; and that of Háibet-djung on his own brother, Mir-mahmed-cazem-qhan, that being the title that had once been borne by the illustrious Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan. He likewise sent circular letters of confirmation to all the men in office throughout the three provinces, that had now become his kingdom. But this was only after he had already dispatched Mir-mahmed-cassem-qhan, his son-in-law, with a force to intercept Seradj-ed-döulah. Pressing letters were likewise sent to his brother, Mir-dá8d, who was at Radj-mahal, with injunctions to spare nothing in laying hold of his person.

This unfortunate Prince, already overtaken by the claws of destiny, was arrived at the shore opposite to Radj-mahl where he landed for about one hour, with intention only to dress up some kichri^\(126\) for himself and for his daughter, as well as for his women, not one of whom had tasted food for three days and nights. It happened that a Fakir resided in that neighbourhood. This man, whom probably he had either disobliged or oppressed in the days of his full power, rejoiced at this fair opportunity of glutting his resentment, and of enjoying a revenge. He expressed a pleasure at his arrival; and taking a busy part in preparing some victuals for him, he meanwhile sent an express over the water, to give information to the Prince’s enemies, who were actually rummaging heaven and earth, to find him out. Immediately on this advice of Shah-dana’s (for such was that man’s name), Mir-cassem and Mir-dá8d crossed the water, and having got him surrounded with their armed men, they had the pleasure of becoming masters of his person, as well as of his family and jewels.

Verses:

Seradj-ed-döulah, sensible that the day of retribution and retaliation had overtaken him, descended to the lowest supplications; but they only served to render him an object of taunt and reproach to a set of men, to whom, but a few days before, he might have disdained to speak; every one of them he intreated to obtain a pension for him, and a corner of ground, where he might live forgotten; but no one heard him. Every one was only intent on the opportunity now before him. Mir-cassem-qhan, who had got L8tf-en-nessa in his power, engaged her, partly by threats, and partly by promises, to disclose where was her casket of jewels; and this casket, the value of which could not be computed but by lacs, fell in his hands of course. Mir-dá8d, on this example, laid his hands upon the other ladies, and seized whatever he could come at; so that the people with them, on seeing how matters went, made haste to seize whatever was of their conveniency.

Whilst this scene was acting at Radj-mahl, Mohon-lal, that Prime Minister, whom his master had raised so high that he touched the firmament with his forehead, but who had thereby acquired and hoarded up an immense capital in hatred and envy; Mohon-lal, I say, was seized at M8rsh8d-abad, and delivered to Radja D8l8b-ram’s custody, who was a Hindoo like himself, and whom the new Prince wished to oblige by such a surrender. The other very probably took possession of all his prisoner’s wealth, as well as person; and it is very probable that in the dispute occasioned by this immense property, the man’s life was made away with.^\(127\) Such was the Minister’s fate. We are going to see that of his master’s.

This Prince, now become prisoner to his own servants, was brought back to M8rsh8d-abad, full eight days after he had quitted A. D. 1757. it; and this happened the 15th of Shevval in the year 1170. He was in so wretched a condition, that the people of God, who saw him in that wretchedness, and remembered the delicacy, the glory, and the care and pomp in which he had been bred from his very infancy, forgot at once the ferocity of his temper, and the shameful actions of his life, and gave themselves up to every sentiment of pity and compassion, on beholding him pass by. They say that some officers, by whose quarters he was led, could not bear to see that excess of misery and wretchedness, without wanting to rescue him immediately; but they were not seconded by their Commanders, who having their hearts alienated from him, and being under articles to his enemy, who had not been sparing to them of either his gold and silver, and had made them mighty promises besides, did not care to avail themselves of the opportunity; so that the men of lesser note, intimidated by the inaction of their superiors, repressed their own ardour.

We have said, that Mir-djaafer-qhan had taken possession of the palace of Mans8r-gunj. He now fixed his residence in it, as being the abode of sovereignty, and he resigned his own house in Djaafer-gunj to his son Miren, a young man, born to him from Shah-qhanum, half-sister to Aaly-verdy-qhan, who had taken her in his family after her father’s decease. This son of his was not only equal to his father, but he went beyond him by some degrees in every thing, whether we consider his manners and dress,^\(128\) or his riveted inclination to oppress and torment Abominable character of Miren, son to the new Navvab. people; he was also still more expeditious and quick-minded in slaughtering people, and in committing murders, having a peculiar knack at such matters, and looking upon every infamous or atrocious deed as an act of prudence and foresight. His system was, that such sensations, as pity and compassion, answered no other purpose but that of spoiling business. With such an heroical character as this, he esteemed himself a man of mighty wisdom and prowess, above all men; and, with such a blessed stock in hand, as the murders and other abominable actions he was committing every day without the least scruple, he thought his performances equal to all the achievements of Aaly-verdy-qhan himself, a Prince to whom he was fond of comparing himself. Such was the man, who first heard of Seradj-ed-döulah’s arrival; for his father was then fast asleep at noon-day. He immediately ordered him into confinement, near his own apartment, and proposed to a large company of his friends, then present, to go directly, and dispatch that Unfortunate. This was peremptorily refused by them all, to a man, not one of them choosing to sully his hands with so ugly an action; and some even complained of the proposal. At last, one Mahmedy-beg^\(129\) accepted the commission, which so many had rejected with indignation. This man, who had been bred in the house of Seradj-ed-döulah’s father, and in that of Aaly-verdy-qhan’s consort; who had made his fortune by marrying an orphan virgin, in whose education that unfortunate grandmother had taken pleasure; this was the man who undertook the murder; this was the man who accepted the horrid commission; and two or three hours after the fugitive’s arrival, he set out to dispatch him. Seradj-ed-döulah had no sooner cast his eyes upon that miscreant, than he asked, whether he was not come to kill him? And the other having answered in the affirmative, the unfortunate Prince, on this confession, despaired of his life.^\(130\) He humbled himself before the Author of all mercies, asked pardon for his past conduct, and then turning to his murderer, “They are not then, (broke he with a passionate tone of vice), they are not satisfied with my being ready to retire into some corner, there to end my days upon a pension; (here he paused a while, and, as if recollecting something, he added) —No—they are are not,—and I must die—to atone for Hoeséin-c8li-qhan murder.” He had no time to say more; for at these words the butcher smote him repeatedly with his sabre; and some strokes falling upon that beauteous face of his, so renowned all over Bengal for its regularity and sweetness, the Prince sunk on the ground, but with these words in his mouth: “Enough, —that is enough—I am done for,—and Hosséin-c8li-qhan’s death is revenged.” On uttering these words, he fell on his face, returned his soul to its Maker, and emerged out of this valley of miseries, by wading through his own blood. His body was hacked to pieces, by strokes without number; and the mangled carcase being thrown across the back of an elephant, was carried throughout the most frequented parts of the city, by way of notifying the accession of the new Sovereign’s. But what is singular, and yet is universally attested, the elephant-driver having for some particular business of his own, stopped for a moment, it chanced to be precisely at Hosséin-c8li-qhan’s door, where some drops of blood were seen to drop from the mangled body, and they fell on the very spot where that nobleman had been murdered but two years before.

Seradj-ed-döulah’s mangled body having been carried through so many streets, was passing by his mother’s gate, who being a Princess accustomed to live immured, knew nothing of the Affecting narrative. revolution; and she only inquired what was the cause of the confused noise and cries she heard to-day without her walls. On being informed of the matter, the unfortunate Princess, unable to contain herself, forgot at once her sex, veil and slippers, and running out of the house, like one distracted, she threw herself on the body, which she covered with her kisses, and sate disconsolate, striking repeatedly her face and breasts. This spectacle greatly affected the by-standers; but Qhadum-hassen-qhan, who had just got upon the terrace of his house, to feast his eyes with the sight of the mangled carcase of his master and benefactor’s son, no sooner perceived the effect it made on the honest folks, than finding fault with the tenderness of that pious throng, he sent a number of mace-bearers and other servants, who by dint of blows and cudgelling, and by the most indecent violence, forced back that unfortunate Princess, who at the sight of her son’s body, had lost her mind, and knew not herself where she was. Numbers of other ladies, that had followed her, in the same condition, were used in the same barbarous manner.

It must be remembered, that when Seradj-ed-döulah was brought into town, Mir-djaafer-qhan was taking his afternoon nap; for that sudden and excessive alteration in his circumstances so far from having affected that custom of his, had only added strength to it; especially when he had taken his dose of bang.^\(132\) The dose now being taken on the chair of command, and on the Mesned of dominion, had operated in a twofold manner: he lay dead to every thing; nor was any man daring enough to awake him. But there was no need of interrupting his slcep; his virtuous son, before any intelligence had been conveyed to his father, had already disposed of that unfortunate Prince; and as Mir-djaafer-qhan, on rising from sleep, had made haste to send a message to that highborn son of his, for recommending vigilance and watchfulness over the deposed Prince (for such was his expression), the hopeful son laughed at the message, and returned for answer, “that he was not a man to neglect so important a charge;” and then turning to the by-standers, who were in great numbers, he tauntingly reflected on his father, who was now sending messages and injunctions, on a matter, which he had already taken care of, by disposing of the man, and effectually doing his business. “Pray Gentlemen, (added he) is not my father a curious man with his message? And indeed as a son to Aaly-verdy-qhan’s sister, how could I prove dilatory in so important a matter?” Such was the end of Seradj-ed-döulah.

Ram-naráin, Viceroy of Azim-abad, submits to Mir-djaafer-qhan —The Author’s family greatly disappointed—Hazyr-ally, slave to the former family, seizes the province of P8rania— Mirza-mehdi, a child of fifteen, youngest brother of Seradj-ed-döula, is barbarously put to death by Mir-djaafer-qhan’s order —Qhadum-hassan-qhan, a very strange character, sent to P8rania, expells Hazur-aaly—His conduct—His behaviour to an innocent astrologer—Ram-nárain manages so as to put himself under the safeguard of the English Government—The Author recovers his Djaghir, or family estate—Shitab-ráy makes his appearance on the stage of the world—Mir-a8dollah, a gentleman of the Imperial family of Persia—Wretched administration of the Navvab’s, and of his son—The troops, headed by two principal officers, conspire against him—The conspiracy is discovered and severly punished—Mir-cazen, an officer of importance, enveloped in the punition—Several illustrious, but defenceless women sent into a loathsome confinement —The Navvab’s detestable conduct renders Seradj-ed-döula regretted—Radja Sunder-sing, one of the most zealous friends of a revolution, is accidentally killed—The Imperial Prince, Aaly-goher, undertakes an expedition against Bengal—Is strongly recommended by his mother to our author’s father, Hedáiet-ally-qhan—Mahmed-c8li-qhan, Lord of Ilah-abad, joins the Prince—Ram-naráin tampers with the two parties—Our author rendered suspected on account of his father, justifies his conduct—The author sent on an embassy to the Shah-zada, or Imperial Prince—Faithless proposals of our author’s rejected with indignation by his father, and by the General of the army —Azim-abad besieged by the Shah-zada—The siege raised on the report of the arrival of the Bengal Army, and of Mahmed-c8li-qhan’s having been circumvented by his kinsman, Shudja-ed-düla —The Shah-zada joined by the Frenchman Mossilass —Mahmed-c8li-qhan’s army waylaid and stripped by his kinsman’s troops, and his person confined—Resolute behaviour of an officer who stands upon his defence; his noble character— The refractory Governor of P8rania is reconciled, by the interposition of the English—Second expedition of the Shah-zada’s in Bengal—The Shah-zada hearing that his father had been murdered ascends the throne under the title of Shah-aalem —He beats Ram-naráin in battle, but misses Azim-abad —He marches forward to encounter the Navvab of Bengal and Colonel Clive—Beats the Indians, but is beaten by the English —Camcar-qhan detaches himself from the Shah-zada, to fall by stealth upon M8rsh8d-abad—Is prevented by the old Navvab and a body of English—The Navvab orders an officer of character to be blown at a gun—The refractory Governor of P8rania wants to join the Shah-zada—Azim-abad assaulted twice, is succoured by Capt. Knox, who makes a successful sally, and then with a handful of men attacks and beats the Governor of P8rania—The Colonel and Miren arrive—The latter is killed by the lightning.

The deplorable death of Seradj-ed-döulah, by transferring the sovereignty to another family, had not put an end to the troubles of the country. Mir-djaafer-qhan, who had been his General and kinsman, now became his successor, and was everywhere acknowledged with an unanimity which doubtless had something very surprising for him as much as for others. One of his first cares was to write to Radja Ram-nárain, Governor-General of Azim-abad. The letter contained an invitation to submit to the revolution that had taken place; and it was therefore filled with many promises and many kindnesses. This letter produced all the effect expected from it. The Gentoo at a loss how to act on so sudden an intimation, thought it best for his own interest to acquiesce for the present. In a few days he received an order to set at liberty Mirza-gholam-aaly-beg, son to Doctor Hekim-beg, and to send him with honour to Court. The poor man, who had been dragged back from Arvel, by Seradj-ed-döulah’s order, and expected nothing but what was sinister, from Court, was very much surprised at a polite letter the Radja wrote him on the occasion; and he set out immediately for M8rsh8d-abad. As his humour and character were much akin to that of Mir-djaafer-qhan’s, he was received with affection, and treated with so much distinction and regard, that he came soon to eclipse all the courtiers and favourites. But meanwhile, the news of such a revolution had flown to Banaress, where it soon became public that Mir-djaafer-qhan had been transported half asleep, from his bed-chamber to a throne; and that he already enjoyed the Sovereignty in full. Such a piece of intelligence could not fail to cheer up the spirits of our family, which was then in that city. As we had been exiled by Seradj-ed-döulah’s order from his dominions, and we had left behind houses, possessions, and a Djaghir, or landed estate, such a revolution seemed to us a favourable opportunity for our returning to a city that had become our home, and to which we were attached by a variety of ties. But ambition seemed likewise to have a share in our eagerness. We had been at all times, and from our very childhood, intimately acquainted with the new Sovereign, as well as connected with his family; he had at all times shewn the sincerest attachment, and the most respectful regard for my illustrious father; insomuch, that whenever he had any occasion to take a journey to M8rsh8d-abad, it was always he that paid me the first visit; nor was it returned but several days after, when I had seen my house cleared of the crowds of visitors; nor did his son, Miren, behave less respectfully. This young nobleman, out of regard, doubtless, to some years which I had more than him, made it a point to abstain from smoking his hocca^\(133\) in my presence. As to the father, he had such a predilection for my younger brother, Naky-aaly-qhan, that he seemed to be his companion, and the partner of all his pleasures. Nor was it easy to conceive a stricter union than that which seemed to subsist between these two bosom friends. No wonder then, if on the first intelligence of so mighty a revolution, my brother should have conceived that all this power, and all this sudden flow of wealth, were articles in which he could claim a share; and he reckoned, that the least object he could now aspire to, would be The author’s family and brothers greatly disappointed. the office of Deputy-Governor of Azim-abad. Full of these high-flown notions, he wrote the new Sovereign a respectful letter of congratulation; and taking his father, brother, family, servants, dependants, and effects, with him, he made haste to embark for Azim-abad, sensible that now was the time to reap the benefit of his late connections. But I, who knew that his late friend was now a high-seated Sovereign, that touched the firmament with his forehead; who felt the comparative inferiority of my station and rank; and who was thoroughly apprised of Mir-djaafer-qhan’s character (a man incapable to remember of past obligations, or to mind rights of old date); and who was abundantly sensible that his garden would never afford a flower of good smell; I, who knew the man completely, was far from being so sanguine; and I thought it more prudent to tarry some time more at Banaress, and to act with more propriety and circumspection. My shyness was disapproved; and my younger brother soon found himself landed at Azim-abad. But this arrival having been notified to the new Prince by the Governor of the province, the latter soon received a letter, full of reprimands and bitter reproaches for what was styled the Governor’s supineness, and it conveyed a peremptory order to send back to Banaress the new arrived folks, without delay, and without fail. This letter opened Naky-aaly qhan’s eyes; then indeed he repented of his hastiness. Luckily for him that Mir-cazem-qhan, elder brother to the new Prince, was these many years in Ram-naráin’s service, both as Paymaster and Commander of his troops. He was a plain man, with very little brilliancy in his character; but who, however, (and justice is due to every one) seemed very valuable on other accounts, being a good-natured man. My younger brother, who thought this man’s acquaintance of some resource, paid him a visit, in which he informed him that he had just received, by a chopdar, or mace-bearer, of Ram-naráin’s, an absolute order from the Prince to return forthwith to Banaress. This intimation affected the good-natured man; and it produced the following message to the Radja-Governor: Sir, I inform you, that these noblemen are my friends; and that I consent to share their destiny, whatever be their chance. If, therefore, you turn them out of Azim-abad, you must think of turning me out of it too. Ram-naráin returned a respectful answer; in which “he excused what he had done, on the plea of necessity; and added, that he also had the honour to be an acquaintance and a friend of those noblemen, and would have never sent so bitter a message, had he not received an express order from Court.” This answer having not satisfied the good-natured man, he backed his request by a note, in these words: Sir, my brother knows not what he is about. I take the matter upon me. Pray do not give yourself any further trouble on that head. The Radja did not reply; but the good-natured man, in the effusions of a feeling heart, took pen immediately, and wrote to his brother whatever came uppermost in his mind; so that the Prince finding himself reprimanded by his elder brother, desisted from his pursuit. It was just at this conjuncture I chanced to arrive at Azim-abad, but it was to give some umbrage to my younger brother, who became fearful lest the Prince’s ill will, and the Governor’s injunction, might be renewed on my occasion. Finding how uneasy he was, I desired him to give himself no trouble on that head, as I would, myself, give the Governor notice of my arrival; adding, that if I received his leave, I would stay; else, that I would instantly return. After saying these few words, I wrote a short note to Ram-naráin. This was immediately answered by a polite letter, in which he not only gave me leave to remain, but expressed a desire to see me. I, therefore, paid him a visit, and this was followed by some others, but at great intervals; making it a point to live retired with my mother and my brothers. And things went on smoothly enough, until a report spread, that Mir-djaafer-qhan had quitted his capital, and shortly would be at Azim-abad. This journey, or expedition of his, was on account of the umbrage he had taken at the revolution that had lately taken place at P8rania; where one Hazyr-aaly-qhan, who from a slave-boy to Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, had become a man in favour with his master, and a Superintendent of his hall of audience, was now availing himself of the influence which he had in the country, to seize the government of it. This man, in confederacy with Achel-sing, who had been Divan to young Sháocat-djung, had laid his hands upon the son of Mohon-lal, whom he confined; and he had set up his ownself for lord of the province. Mir-djaafer-qhan, therefore, was coming, both to quell that insurrection, and to take possession of Azim-abad.

It must be observed that although the new Sovereign had been opposed nowhere, it was rather through incertitude how to act, than out of any affection to his person, or any opinion of his talents; so that every one had thoughts of availing himself of such a time of trouble. Ram-naráin, who in his heart was strongly attached to Aaly-verdy-qhan’s family, had already wrote to the zemindars of his province, and namely, to Radja Sunder-sing, and Radja Pahluvan-sing, the most powerful amongst them, to exhort them to join with him in a common effort, calculated to revenge the death of their master’s son. But he received no favourable answer from anywhere; and he soon found that his situation, by becoming critical, required a deal of dissimulation, and some apparent compliance with the revolution; for by this time, strong suspicions had arisen in his mind, nor were they totally groundless. One day as he was amusing himself with viewing a seat and garden he had raised, he was informed that Mir-cazem-qhan, who was indeed the Commander of his troops, but who was also elder brother to Mir-djaafer, had suddenly made his appearance at the gate with a great throng of friends and attendants. The Governor, surprised at the suddenness of the intrusion, retired to another set of secret apartments that had a communication with his garden; from thence he sent to complain of the abruptness of so unexpected a visit, and also to excuse his not seeing him at present. A couple of hours after he retired to his palace, which was in the citadel; where he made several observations on a visit that afforded such a handle to suspicions, both on the visitor’s account and on that of his brother. The latter, informed of a miscarriage that might bring disagreeable consequences, sent him two envoys, who had orders to pacify his mind, by every means in their power. The first of these was Mir-sheriff-din, an ancient officer, who after having successively served the three preceding Viceroys, was now a friend of the new Prince. The second was Govinda-mul, an agent and friend of Djagat-seat’s. The envoys spared no pains in persuading the Governor to remain quiet during the troubles at P8rania; for by this time Hazyr-aaly-qhan supported by Achel-sing, had taken possession of the capital, confined Mohon-lal, who was Deputy-Governor on the part of Seradj-ed-döulah, and seized the money he had under his guard. But Achel-sing, in fact, was at the bottom of all the contrivance; his credit in the province knew no bounds, having been for a length of time strictly connected with Government as lessee of the Districts of Tadj-p8r, Serip8r, Gundvara, and Carangola, in Strange revolution at P8rania. which station he had acquired both riches and a character. The farmers of the revenue, as well as all the military Commanders, had connections with him so early as the first year of Sáyd-ahmed-qhan’s administration; and the same may be said equally of Hazyr-aaly. Both passed for men of consequence, and people had contracted an attachment to their persons. And, as on the other hand, the inhabitants of P8rania are exactly the counter part of those of Bengal; those tame, cowardly wretches, at all times so crouching and so ready to submit to any one that offers; no one will wonder at Hazyr-aaly’s having brought into his views both the troops and inhabitants. But he forgot himself not a little in confining the Deputy, Mohon-lal. It was after that performance, that he marched up to the Mesned of command and independence, and very unconcernedly took his seat in it. That day he appointed Achel-sing, for his Divan or Prime Minister, declaring publicly, from thence, that he was the person on whom he had conferred the management of the finances. However, it may be said with truth that he was himself no better than a pageant, and that he acted entirely under the other’s guidance. Such an intelligence could not but confound the Prince; who under pretence of a journey to Azim-abad, was really marching against Ram-naráin. Fain he was to divide his attention betwixt two objects become equally important; and in the month of Sefur, 1171, just five months after having acquired the precarious sovereignty of Bengal, he quitted his capital, and encamped in the plain, leaving his worthy son, Miren, to command in his stead as his Deputy. Unfortunately, on the very first days of his march, he chanced in one of his sober moments, to remember Mirza-mehdy, younger brother to Seradj-ed-döulah, a youthful Prince, who had been early decorated with all his father’s titles, but who was now under a severe confinement. Straight he sent an order for his being put to death instantly. The report ran then, Mirza-mehdy, younger brother of Seradj-ed-döulah,
barbarously murdered. and it was generally believed, that the unfortuuate, innocent, youth had been forced between two of those wooden frames, called taqhtas, where they conserve shawls and other precious goods; and that the ropes having been strained hard at one and the same time, he had been squeezed to death; and it is from that kind of rack, that his guiltless soul took its flight towards the regions of unalterable innocence and eternal repose. It is true that some persons said, that he had been made away with by a strong dose of poison; but some others, even after having admitted the kind of death we have mentioned, assign for cause, the dissensions that had early risen between the two confederates, Mir-djaafer-qhan, and Radja D8l8b-ram. These dissensions had risen to such a height, that those two men, once such fast friends, could not bear an intercourse, and had already conceived a mortal dislike to each other. Now it must be remembered that D8l8b-ram had been an eminent Minister, son to a man of consequence, had enjoyed the highest favour of Aaly-verdy-qhan, his master, and was in possession of important offices, and in full possession of a fringed Paleki, a kettle-drum, and other honourific insignia, at a time, when Mir-djaafer-qhan, actually convicted of malversation and infamous management in his then office of Paymaster-General, was obliged to look out for a shelter, under the Minister’s wings. A service of that consequence deserved, in the Gentoo’s opinion, very high acknowledgments; for it was acknowledged as such, by all the officers, and all the soldiers of the army. No wonder then that he should now prove too high-minded, to bear Mir-djaafer-qhan’s assumed superiority, and too incensed, to submit to his sway; so that his discontent and indignation had prompted him to take measures for releasing Mirza-mehdy, whose person was to be sent him secretly by some men that had it in custody, and whom he had gained underhand. Be it as it may, Mir—djaafer, who somehow had suspected the probability of such a management, and who was thoroughly sensible of all that could be performed by a man; who to his immense personal property joined an unbounded influence over the hearts of all the troops; resolved to be beforehand with him, and he without hesitation, dispatched an order for murdering that youth, whose innocence and beauty drew tears from every eye. This order had been entrusted to Miren, that virtuous son of his, who after having signalised himself anew, by shedding so much innocent blood, and laid up thereby, as he thought, an abundant stock of ease of mind, for his own occasions, now abandoned himself to all kinds of excesses; and as he imagined that with the title of Shahamet-djung, which he had so much longed for, and had now assumed he had likewise inherited all the other qualifications of the late Nevasish-mahmed-qhan, who had always borne it, he modelled his household accordingly, took in his service all the officers and servants that had belonged to that much regretted nobleman, and therefore appointed Hadjee Mehdy, for his Superintendent of the hall of audience, and Radja B8ll8b, a Bengalee of Djehan-ghir-nugur-dacca, for his Prime Minister.

But whilst he was new-modelling his household in that manner, there arose under his very eyes, a man whose fortune became prodigious. This was Qhadum-hassen-qhan, the very man who had lately cut so conspicuous a figure, in driving away the disconsolate mother of Seradj-ed-döula’s. He boasted assiduously of his being related to Mir-djaafer-qhan, although in reality he was no relation of his in any degree; for he was born, not of Mir-djaafer-qhan’s sister, as married to Séyd-qhadem-aaly-qhan, but only from a Cashmirian wife of his, whom the latter had likewise married; and this was all the foundation of a relationship, he now so loudly claimed, styling himself his nephew, and never mentioning the new Prince, but by the appellation of his Mam8, or maternal uncle. But although his relation to the new Sovereign was so very slight and groundless, he was very much related to him in other weighty respects. He was nearly of the same age, extremely addicted to voluptuousness and profligacies, and above all, had an invincible inclination to some particular species of unnatural lusts, to which the two friends had taken an habit from their earliest youths, and which the two friends practised reciprocally; living mostly together, and frequently retiring together. However he was superior to his Mam8 in other repects. Quick-sighted in matters of account and book-keeping, thoroughly skilled in the arts of making money, ready-handed enough at quarrels and frays, and above all, deeply conversant in all the secret subtilities and contrivances of non-conformism, and unnatural practices, which last were his peculiar taste and particular turn of mind; and as on the other hand, he had been long enough in the service of the late Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, to have acquired thereby a competent acquaintance, not only with whatever concerned the finances of the country, but also with the inlets into the province of P8rania, and with its strong and weak sides; so he thought himself well-qualified for a Governor; and he accordingly requested the government of that country. “He reminded Mir-djaafer-qhan of the activity he had exhibited, in serving him with his person, in his disputes with Seradj-ed-döula (although in reality it was he that had escaped by taking shelter under Mir-djaafer-qhan’s protection, as Seradj-ed-döulah had got information of his cabals, and wanted to punish him according to his deserts), he represented, I say, to his friend, that now that fortune had bestowed upon him so much power, and such extensive dominions, he hoped he would allow him to better his fortune in that little corner of P8rania, favour which after all would not be bestowed on a stranger.” This representation being made at a time when Mir-djaafer-qhan had set out on purpose to chastise the revolted of P8rania, and to quiet the troubles of that province, could not fail of being listened to, especially as Qhadum-hassen-qhan, who was master of much ready money, and had furnished himself with a nobleman’s equipage, had offered to quell the troubles of that province, at his own charge and peril, provided he had the government of it, and was assisted with a small force. The old Navvab, who had been at all times indolent and averse to labour, but who now detested the very thoughts of it, on finding himself fated to taste of the sweets of sovereignty, no earlier than in the evening of life, was glad to rid himself of such an out-of-the-way expedition, the more so, as it interfered with his intended scheme against Azim-abad, which last he thought much more important. He therefore bestowed on Qhadum-hassen-qhan the investiture and qhylaat of P8raniah; and Mir-cazam-qhan, an ancient Commander of Aaly-verdy-qhan’s time, was ordered to attend him with his corps, and to obey his commands; this officer who was a man of character, and a little related to me, the poor man, had cut so great a figure at the battle in which Sháocat-djung lost his life, that the new Navvab desirous to win his heart, had augmented his brigade, and had bestowed upon him the Paymastership of several other corps.

As soon as the appointment took place, the new Governor crossed the Ganga with a small train of artillery, and his own body of troops; and from thence he wrote circular letters to every principal man, and to every civil and military officer in the province: all men whom he knew personally. These letters with now and then a menace, contained a variety of promises, and were calculated to gain the heart of every one. This passage of Qhadum-hassen-qhan,
a very strange character, Governor to P8rania. the Ganga roused the attention of Hazyr-aaly-qhan, who had forgot himself totally on seeing six or seven thousand foot, and two or three thousand horse under his command; he armed himself and resolved to repel the enemy, and he made choice of a post which he fortified with intrenchments. But all this while he was unaware that his troops, being no better than so many farmers of P8rania, were faint-hearted, and unfit for a day of battle; those people making nothing of throwing away their arms, and abandoning their officers, without any sense of shame. Instead of that knowledge so necessary in a man of his station, he had provided himself with certain astrological predictions, which a certain Gentoo, called Ratan-pat, had been brewing for him, and he had strengthened his post on his own notions of success and victory. However, he took care to gain the hearts of his troops, by bestowing much money amongst them from the large sums that had been brought together with so much trouble by Seradj-ed-döulah’s Deputy. By this time Qhadum-hassen-qhan had approached the enemy, but as fear and despondency seemed to have seized him, as well as his antagonist, he thought proper to stop short, and to write pressing letters to the Navvab for his hastening his promised assistance. Luckily for him that the P8raniah troops no sooner heard of the enemy’s approach, than they were seized with a panic, and they disappeared by small parties; each man, as his fear prompted him, quitting the camp in the night, and making the best of his way to his home. The desertion became so general, that the numbers in camp became thinner and thinner, to the great disappointment of Hazyr-aaly-qhan, who was still more intimidated by hearing that the Navvab had sent repeated orders to Mir-cazem-qhan to hasten his march. These orders, however, did not please Qhadum-hassen-qhan; but as he was a shrewd man, and fully informed how matters went in the enemy’s camp, he thought it expedient to hasten to an engagement, for fear of being obliged to share the honour of the success with another in a victroy which he thought could not escape him. Full of these ideas, he assembled the few troops he had with him and before Mir-cazem-qhan could come up, he He expels Hazyr-aaly. marched directly against the enemy’s camp. Hazyr-aaly-qhan, on the other hand, ranged his troops upon the intrenchment, and with his Minister, Atchul-sing, he made his appearance at their head. But these troops who had already been impressed by Qhadum-hassen-qhan’s letters, forgot everything but their own safety; on descrying the enemy’s march they wavered, and without being pushed to it by actually feeling the impression of either sabre or spear, they quitted their posts all at once, and fled every one the nearest way to his home. Hazyr-aaly-qhan, without being desmayed by this general desertion, found means to secure his flight. He fled and disappeared, without it being possible to know where, and how. To all appearance, he went towards the mountainous tracts in the north of P8rania, which although contiguous to Bengal, are independent from it; and he remained concealed there until he might hear of an opportunity of emerging from thence; and this happened when another revolution was effected in favour of Mir-cassem-aaly-djah. Then he shewed himself again, but was seized and confined for a length of time, without being ever heard of afterwards.

After so easy and so complete a victory, Qhadum-hassen-qhan made his entry in P8rania, where he took up his abode in the palace built by Sáyd-ahmed-qhan; and from thence he proclaimed that whoever had concealed Atchul-sing, should produce him immediately. But there was little need of any vigorous search; for the man himself having concluded that as a pen-man and one that had acted only on a second-hand, there was little danger for him in being apprehended, quietly suffered himself to be taken; on which the Governor required him to produce a general account of the employ he had made of the public money; after which he resumed every thing that had been bestowed under the former administration. Numbers that had absconded, were seized, and by dint of severities, were made to pay much money, after having refunded all that which they had really received. Such violences made his administration odious, and rendered his person an object of taunt and reproach; but he seemed to pay little attention to it; and, indeed, he had not delicacy enough to feel the detestable part he had chosen to act; and, provided he made much money, he little minded the detestation of an incensed public. Mir-cazem-qhan arrived at this time with his force; but he found the country reduced; and he contented himself with paying a visit to the new Governor; after which he took his leave, and returned to the camp at Radj-mahl. The Governor being now firmly settled, applied himself to the duties of his office, and some months had elapsed in this manner; but Ratunpal, the astrologer, who had absconded with many others, having thought proper to make again his appearance upon the stage of the world, gave birth to a strange scene. This man claimed the possession of some villages that had been bestowed upon him successively by Séif-qhan, and afterwards by Sáyd-ahmed-qhan. He thought that as the whole business of an astrologer consisted in keeping great men in good humour with their ownselves, by a variety of predictions suited to their inclinations, the new Governor would not find fault with him for having flattered Hazyr-aaly-qhan a little, nor would object to his being left in the possession of an estate so fairly acquired. “Astrologer,” said the Governor, with an air of derision, “have you examined the stars to-day, before you ventured out of your house? Doubtless you have.” “Illustrious Navvab,” answered the other, “as the business of such men as we, is to draw horoscopes for His conduct, his behaviour to an innocent astrologer. others, and to examine the Heavens for a favourable hour, you may rest assured that we do not neglect such a precaution for ourselves.” “Very well,” replied the Governor; “and it is you undoubtedly, that have pointed out to Hazyr-aaly-qhan, a favourable hour for his fine expedition. Have you not?” The man did not deny it; and on that concession, the Governor ordered him to be carried to the public market, there to have his nose cut off, to terrify all the Grandees and principal men of the province; and likewise to teach him to look out with more care about a favourable hour, on his coming out of his lodgings. The order was punctually executed, and the poor man remained mutilated for life.

This expedition of Qhadum-hassen-qhan’s having put it in the Navvab’s power to depart from Radj-mahl, he marched on to Azim-abad. But Ram-naráin, being by this time certain that the Navvab’s expedition was solely intended against him, he concluded with himself, that his own power and dominion could never subsist upon a solid foundation, unless he made an alliance with the English. He reposed no confidence on Mir-djaafer-qhan’s promises and actions; could not trust his word; and was still more mistrustful of his Ministers. With this view he gained Govinda-mul over to his side; that is, the very man who had orders to persuade him; and he sent him, as his own agent, to the English camp, with a commission to spare nothing that might procure him a letter, according to the wish of his heart, from Colonel Clive. After which, he assured him, he would soon come to terms with the Navvab. Govinda-mul waited on Mir-djaafer-qhan, and informed him, “that Ram-naráin would not come to pay him his respects, unless the English mediated some terms with His Highness, and pledged their good faith as guarantees. That otherwise, God only knew what might happen!” On the Navvab’s answering, that he had no objections, Govinda-mul applied to the Moonshy, or Persian Secretary; and having gained him over to his party, he obtained from him such a minute of a letter, as he wanted, and brought it to the Navvab. But as the agent was apprised that Mir-djaafer-qhan could neither write nor read fluently, and that when once duly seasoned with his dose of bang,^\(134\) he was incapable of attending to business, especially after his meal; so those two shrewed ones, who knew his character, made choice of that moment to present their letter. The old Navvab excused himself on his having a headache, and his not being able to read at present; but he added, however, that he would hear the purport. Such a purport, therefore, was mentioned to him, as differed widely from the real letter, but, however, suited his intention and mind; so that after having heard it, he ordered a letter to be drawn up accordingly, and shewn to Colonel Clive. Govinda-mul having carried his point, folded up the letter, and ran to the Colonel. This Commander took a copy of it, signed and sealed the original, and then returned it to the Navvab. It contained “an invitation to come over to the English camp, with assurances of his taking it upon himself to have him confirmed in his Government, and to see him secured in his life, property, and honour, without being liable to be called to any account whatever, for either the management of the revenue, or any other matter.” Govinda-mul, furnished with such a piece, took his departure from thence, without returning to the Navvab’s camp; and spreading his wings full in the expanse of success, he arrived at Ram-naráin’s palace, where he shewed him the letter, and its minute. Such a sight could not but quiet that Governor’s mind; and as he had now carried his point, and was totally freed from his fears, he resolved to wait upon the Navvab; and having spied a favourable hour, he set out to shift his ground.^\(135\)

As the Radja had had a particular regard for me, shewed a deal of fondness for my company, and did everything in his power to oblige me, I thought it incumbent upon my gratitude to conform myself to the complexion of the times; so far, at least, as to accompany him in his journey. I therefore repaired to the place which he had chosen for changing his ground, and for staying two days; and I put a piece of paper into his hands, the purport of which was, “that even men capable of nothing, happen sometimes to be good for something; and that, if he should think it proper, I would accompany him.” He wrote at the bottom of the paper these words: “I am now hastening out, uncertain myself of my own fate; but as I retain a grateful sense of your kind offer, I shall, on my return, remember of it, to see you oftener than ever, and to oblige you in every thing in my power; I think it an honour and a happiness to myself to distinguish a man of your merit.”^\(136\) The next day Ram-naráin departed, and repaired directly to the English camp. On this proceeding, which did not please Govinda-mul, who was now become his confidant, he observed, that it was highly proper now to repair, also, to the Navvab’s camp, and to come to some concessions for his having visited Colonel Clive, first. Ram-naráin, who was a shrewd man, would not listen to the advice; but the Colonel gave him one of his Commanders, in whose company he repaired to Mir-djaafer-qhan’s camp. A precaution so injurious, could not but highly displease the Navvab, and render both the agent and visitor extremely disagreeable. However, he for the present, repressed his resentment, and a few hours after, he sent him word to encamp at a spot he pointed out to him; and as the Governor was now sure of protection, he complied with the command, and marched two or three days with him, until they arrived at Djaafer-qhan’s garden, which is on the banks of the Ganga, close to the suburb of Azim-abad, where they encamped eastward of that city.

It was there that my three younger brothers, Naky-aaly-qhan, and Ghalib-aaly-qhan, and Séyd-aaly-qhan, were introduced to the Navvab, by his brother, Mir-cazem-qhan. As for my own part, I paid that Prince a visit under the mediation of the Paymaster, Mir-cazem-qhan; who generously remembered the rights of consanguinity, and never made use of the great credit which his many inportant services gave him, but for doing good and obliging others. However, I must confess, that my heart had but very little share in that visit, as I was thoroughly acquainted with that Prince’s character, long before the revolution, that had brought him to the Mesned; and I had not the least inclination for his company; nor did I in the two or three months time, which he passed at Azim-abad, pay him more than two or three visits, and this too after he had reprimanded me for my neglect. The truth is, that on observing that his company was in general such as corresponded with his own profligate character, I had no inclination to mix with such people. It was not so with Mir-cazem-qhan, the Paymaster. I used to visit that amiable man often, and although I was then in circumstances distressed enough, I consoled myself, and kept up my spirits by a frequent repetition of these verses, which His Highness Sheh-mahmed-hazin (whom God may place amongst the highest in his paradise!) had often in his mouth:

But as I have so often mentioned Mir-djaafer-qhan’s character, it will not be improper to give some specimen of it, as he gave them himself at this very period of time. A strict friendship, and an intimate union had subsisted at all times between him and Mirza-shems-ed-din, a very sensible, very ingenious gentleman of M8rsh8d-abad. The latter had even lent him a sum of money, when the former was in disgrace with Seradj-ed-döulah, and in want of that timely assistance. So that now, that his friend had possession of all the treasures of that Prince, as well as of his extensive dominions, the Mirza very naturally expected mighty returns from the man’s gratitude, and from his sense of the important services he had rendered him, at so critical a time. But he was mistaken in his reckoning, and he saw the very reverse of what he expected; he was seldom admitted to the Navvab’s company, that is, to that in which the latter unbent his mind, amongst a number of friends. Not that the old Navvab was estranged from him neither; only that he knew him for a diseur-de-bonmots, and a waggish jester that would spare no man; and he feared lest some severe jokes, upon the neglect of which he was the victim, might throw a slur upon the Prince’s importance and weight. One day, when the Mirza had found means to be one of the Navvab’s company, in his private apartments, the latter to prevent an attack which he dreaded, thought it best to soothe his resentment by some handsome excuses. “Mirza,” said the Navvab, “do not believe that I have forgotten the services you have rendered me, or that I do not mind you; you know that all the money which fell into my hands, has been employed in satisfying the English, and in promoting some concerns that admitted of no delay; but I can assure you that whenever I am eased of my engagements, and I find a proper opportunity, I shall not let it slip out of my hands, but will avail myself of it, to return you the services you have rendered me.” The Mirza, whose heart was alienated by some months’ attendance, answered: My Lord-Navvab, do not tell me so much of your distressed circumstances; for they affect the tenderness of my heart, and will melt me to tears. But what can I do? Had not Seradj-ed-döula plundered my house on your account, and reduced me to poverty, I would assist you even now with some money, as I think it a happiness to serve you with all my power; no man in the world deserves so well, as you, every thing which friendship can perform. Here it must be observed, that Mir-djaafer-qhan, who was fond of jewels, and had chanced to enjoy them, but at the end of his life, when he got immense quantities of them at once, was actually loaded with those glittering things; and he actually wore six or seven bracelets at his wrist, every one of a different species of gems; and he had also hanging from his neck, over his breast, three or four chapelets of pearls, every one of inestimable value. Such was his dress that day, and Shems-ed-din looking earnestly at it, said: My Lord-Navvab, the stones you wear at your arms, are of so inestimable a value, that they can be of no use to any one but yourself; but yet they must be pretty heavy, and could you but give me a slap in the face, with that hand of yours, so loaded, it would ease my heart of much of its grief. But the sarcasm he cracked on the Navvab on another occasion, proved much more severe. The Mirza having accompanied him to Azim-abad saw his character traduced by some jealous, who reported that some of his soldiers of his corps had quarreled with Colonel Clive’s people; and that there had happened a fray between them. It chanced that Shems-ed-din himself made his appearance at that very moment; it was in full Derbar, and in the hall of audience. The Navvab fixed his eyes upon him, and spoke a few words that seemed to border upon reprimand. “Sir,” said he, “your people have had a fray with the Colonel’s people. Is your honour to know, who is that Colonel Clive, and in what station Heaven has seated him?” My Lord-Navvab, answered the Mirza, in getting up instantly, and standing bolt-upright before him; Me, to quarrel with the Colonel! Me! who never get up every morning, without making three profound bows to his very jack ass? How then could I be daring enough after that, to fall out with the rider himself? After that small digression, for which we hope the readers’ connivance, it is proper to revert to the affairs of Azim-abad and to see how Ram-naráin availed himself of the letter, he had obtained at the expense of so much art, and so much good luck.

One day Mir-djaafer-qhan, after having much amused himself with the songs and dances of the actresses of that city, conferred the government of the province on his own elder brother, Mir-cazem-qhan; and at the same time he required Ram-naráin, to render a full account of the management of the revenue for so many years past. Ram-naráin, who had attached himself to the English, on purpose to parry such a stroke, did not fail to complain to Colonel Clive. The Colonel sent a message to the Navvab, to dissuade him from such a design. The message displeased that Prince, who in conversing with the Colonel’s agent and envoy,^\(137\) grew warm, and expressed himself in these very words: “What does mean, my Lord! Shall I leave such a Government in the hands of a Ram-naráin, and behold my own brother without employment? What for, pray? And for whom?” The Colonel sent word in answer, “that it was for fear of such contingencies as these that he, on the Navvab’s desiring to be accompanied by the English, in his expedition to Azim-abad, had objected to his being of the party; and had reminded him, that it was improper in him to desire the concurrence of the English in what concerned his finances and the government of his dominions, as he (the Colonel) might come to observe many actions of his to be contrary to sound policy and to good faith; and that once the English being embarked with him in those regulations, they would think his honour as well as their own concerned in preventing wrong measures. I added,” said the Colonel, “that the interference of the English might produce an alteration, and change our union and friendship into disputes and discontent. All this you would not hear; and now that you have brought me so far, and have made me write, as mediator and as guarantee, a letter, confirming under my hand and seal a number of promises all made by yourself, how can I take a share in offering so much injustice? And how can I be guilty of breaking my word after having solemnly given it?” The Navvab, surprised at the style of the message, denied that either the Colonel or himself had ever entered into any such agreement. The Colonel, in reply, sent him the minute written by the Navvab’s own Secretary, minute which the Colonel had kept as a voucher. The Navvab got it read, and paid great attention to the contents. Surprised at what he heard, he sent for his Secretary and Govinda-mul, and expostulated with them on this strange affair. These two men who were closely linked together in this business, took care to answer in such a manner, as to confound the old man totally. They observed, “that they had brought that minute to him, and offered it to his perusal; that he had ordered the contents to be recited to him, had given his consent, and had requested Ram-naráin manages so as to put himself under the safeguard of the English Government. that of the Colonel’s. They added, that it was not strange at all, that those contents should have slipped out of his memory, in the variety of businessess, and avocations that crowded upon his Princely mind.” Mir-djaafer, feeling he was in the wrong, found he had no other party to take, but that of abiding by the Colonel’s pleasure, with respect to Ram-naráin. He did more; for after having so bluntly published his intention to dispossess the latter, he fourd it convenient to caress him, and, at the same time, to promise some other preferment to his disappointed brother, whom he desired to quit Azim-abad, in order to live with him at his Court.

These small dissensions were followed by several others of a more private nature. Cam-car-qhan, Radja or Prince of some mountainous tracts in the province of Azim-abad, was this long while attached to Mir-cazem-qhan, the Navvab’s elder brother, who had invited him to Court, where he intended to make interest in bringing to an issue some difference which he had with Sunder-sing, another Radja of those parts, but where he received nothing but promises from that Prince; whereas Sunder-sing, who had all along sided with Ram-naráin, now carried his point with a high hand. He even did more; for on observing how much stability had accrued to his friend’s Government, by the late interference of the English, he made no account of Mir-djaafer-qhan, to whom he seldom paid his court; and on the contrary, he very assiduously cultivated Ram-naráin’s good will, who now interfered so far in this affair, that he got Cam-car-qhan to be arrested, and confined. Nor did this proceeding much affect the old Prince, who glad to have somehow rid himself of this affair, turned his mind towards amusements; and having ordered a numerous assembly of Fakirs and religious men, he entertained them handsomely, and complimented each of them with one rupee gratuity. These assemblies are called Mels.^\(138\) From this entertainment he repaired to a pastime of another kind; where, being heated by the pleasures of the festival of H8ly,^\(139\) he amused himself with seeing dances, hearing songs, and distributing amongst the actors and actresses, a number of lively coloured dresses.^\(140\) It was in one of those moments of mirth and jocularity, that Ram-naráin, who had a deal of kindness for me, the poor man, supplicated the Navvab for the release of the Districts of Belondjana, and of some other lands about Mongher; together with the villages of Beni-nagur and Mö8la-nugur, which composed a certain Djaghir or estate, hereditary in our family, but that had been confiscated by Seradj-ed-döula. The Navvab, who did not choose to disoblige a man so well supported, gave his consent, and the Governor sent me notice of it immediately. This incident roused the Navvab, who seeing that this affair was as good as done, resolved to assume the merit of seeming to confer an obligation of consequence on Naky-aaly-qhan, my younger brother, who had been an intimate companion of his, and who, as we have already hinted, had fruitlessly conceived mighty hopes from Mir-djaafer-qhan’s accession to power and dominion. He therefore sent for him directly; and willing to get rid of a man, whose distressful circumstances reflected a reproach upon his old friend, he told him, that if he had anything to say about the confiscated Djaghir of his family, he ought to present him a paper, and that he would be glad to sign it. My brother, who knew what had happened, reluctantly presented a petition, in which he requested a release of his paternal estate; and the Navvab having signed it, addressed it to Ram-naráin for its execution; and thereby, in his opinion, obliged two persons with a single favour. But as he was now on his return to Bengal, he spent some days in celebrating the festival of the H8ly in the Chehel-s8t8n, that building of stone raised by Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan. Not content with that, he ordered a sandy spot in the river, through which ran a small stream, to be surrounded by cloth-walls, and there he spent some days in fulfilling the rites of that Gentoo festival, the last of which consists in throwing handfuls of dust and coloured earth at each other, and syringing coloured water on one another’s clothes; and this ceremony, likewise, having been fulfilled to his heart’s content, he returned in town, where he fixed a day for his departure. But first of all he spent some days in visiting the holy places of the town of Bahar; and especially the tomb of Shah-sherf-ben-yahya, the illuminated, who is the patron Saint of that town, and is entombed in its neighbourhood. And it was here, likewise, that he satisfied his cravings for ox’s flesh,^\(141\) fried in sesam oil, which is a kind of minced meat, for which that town is famous, and of which the tary-drinkers^\(142\) of those parts are so very fond. He was heard to say, before his arrival there, that he would eat his bellyful of it; and I have been told, that quantities of that kind of meat had been ordered to be prepared by such of the inhabitants as had a knack at the frying-pan business. All of whom brought him their performances; on which some were applauded, some loaded with encomiums, and some cursed and abused; just as his taste would point out, and his natural levity prompted. And let the credit of this story rest with my author.

It was about this time that Ráo-shitab-ráy made his appearance in these parts, a man henceforward destined to cut so capital a figure. Originally he had been a clerk in the service of Aga-suléiman, a Georgian slave of Qhandö8ran’s, who was Minister of Mahmed-shah; which Georgian, on Qhandö8ran’s demise, became Steward to his son, Semsam-ed-döulah. At first Shitab-ráy had but a small salary, and a small office in this nobleman’s house; but his merit and abilities having come to light by degrees, he advanced so far in his family, as to be the centre of all the business transacted therein. Several revolutions having happened meanwhile in the capital, and giving rise to an infinity of troubles, that almost overset the circumstances of every inhabitant of that unhappy city, Ráo-shitab-ráy who did not think it a secure place of abode, nor such as could afford him a subsistence suitable to his wishes, resolved to quit it, and Some account of Shitab-ráy. to seek his fortune elsewhere; but as he had friends at Court, he obtained several offices before his departure. These were the offices of Imperial Divan at Azim-abad, and the government of the Fortress of Rhotas, together with the management of Semsam-ed-döulah’s Djaghir-lands in Bengal. Furnished with such credentials, he quitted the capital, and arrived at Azim-abad, a little after Mir-djaafer-qhan’s arrival there. He made his appearance with an honourable retinue, a conduct and manner which attained universal esteem, and a tolerable stock of money, which his industry had found means to save. And first of all, he paid a visit to Radja Ram-naráin; and by his means, he had the honour to be introduced to the Navvab. But as he was a man of keen genius, he soon comprehended on one hand, that the Radja being already under ties of friendship to Mahmedy-qhan, who enjoyed those very offices for which he had brought a patent, would not dispossess his friend and acquaintance; and on the other, he soon became sensible that the Navvab being an indolent man, who knew nothing of business, and never meddled with it, nothing at all could be done with him. He thought it best, therefore, to attach himself to the rising fortune of the English; and he followed the Colonel to M8rsh8d-abad, where he found means to engage that General to accept some very curious and valuable presents; whereby he insinuated himself so well in his friendship, that he obtained that Commander’s recommendation, in support of the patents he had brought from the Imperial Court. This recommendation drew after it that of Mir-djaafer-qhan’s; and they both gave him letters for Ram-naráin. This Governor, on seeing him return to Azim-abad with such a powerful support, installed him in those three offices, to which he had been appointed from Court; and it was in that honourable manner that Shitab-ráy opened his way to them. In time, he managed so well, as to gain likewise Ram-naráin’s good will; so that Shitab-ráy found means to live at M8rsh8d-abad, honoured and respected, as well as in great state and splendour.

As we had not been introduced to the English, we could not hope to be so well supported; and my brother, Naky-aaly-qhan, tired of the endless hopes with which his friend, Mir-djaafer-qhan, was continually feeding him, parted with the old Prince at Patna, and returned to Azim-abad. As to myself, Mir-cazem-qhan, the Paymaster, urged me several times to follow his fortunes in Bengal, taking upon himself to make me touch monthly a pension of five hundred rupees, with no attendance at all upon either the Navvab or his son, and with no other trouble, than that of shewing myself at Court once a month. But as I was disgusted with the Navvab’s neglect, and felt that my company would never become agreeable to him, no more than to his friends and bottle companions; and as on the other hand, Ram-naráin fed me with the hopes of an employment, I took my leave of that Prince at Bycantp8r, whither I had accompanied him, but where I lived with Mir-cazem-qhan, and with Roh-eddin-husséin-qhan. From thence I took leave of my friends; and the day when the army took the road of Bengal, and the Navvab, that of Bahar, I returned home to Azim-abad.

As I was predestined to have connections with the English, it was my good fortune, doubtless, that led me back to that city; for amongst the English gentlemen that accompanied the Navvab so far, and now took their leave of him, were Mr. Wats and Mr. Amiatt. Both these gentlemen had a great friendship for Mir-abdollah, a valuable man, my intimate friend, whom we must introduce to the readers’ acquaintance. His father, Mir-gh8lam-aaly, the Sefian, drew his pedigree from that Emperor, (whose tents be pitched in Heaven!) Shah-ismáil, the Sefian, the Moosevian, who was the first ancestor of the Emperors who have reigned in Iran, under the appellation of the race of Sefi, as well as the principal pearl of that Imperial crown, that has shone with so much lustre on the stage of the world. But amongst the illustrious ancestors of Mir-abdollah’s, the first who made his appearance in Hindostan, was a nephew of Shah-tahmasp, son to the glorious Shah-ismáil. He had quitted Iran at a time when the troubles had arisen in that country, and when Sooltan Mohammed, son to Shah-tahmasp, had been deprived of his eye-sight; nearly about the time when his illustrious son, Shah-abbass, having torn up his enemies by the root from the region of existence, had, like that lion of war, Ascandr Makedon,^\(143\) rendered his empire more formidable than it had ever been before. This nephew of Shah-ismáil’s, tired with the troubles of his native country, had retired towards Hindostan, on the frontiers of which the fugitive Prince was then in possession of the Fortress of Candahar; which with its province formed a noble estate, which the Emperor Acbar took out of his hands, under promise of giving him in return the country of Sind and some other districts, but which he never gave him; so that the fugitive Prince who had settled himself in that province, where he coined money, died of vexation and grief, on finding himself over-reached by the Hindostany Emperor. The younger brother of that fugitive, having no resource left in the world, came to Shah-djehan-abad, where he submitted to take service with the Emperors of the race of Tem8r,^\(144\) and where he married the daughter of Abdol-rahim-qhan, a Minister of State, who cut a capital figure under the title of Prince of Princes; and it is from that younger brother, that have sprung the several races of Sefevian Princes, now settled in Hindostan; to wit, that of Shah-Nevas-qhan, of Nö8r8z-qhan, and of Mirza-gholam-aaly, father to our Mirza-abdollah, of whom we have been speaking, and who was connected with the English; and it was Mr. Wats, a man in high credit with the rulers of Azim-abad and Bengal, that recommended him to Ram-naráin; the latter overawed by such a recommendation, gave him a noble salary, and a company of a hundred horse; and moreover he made use of him to transact business with the English; he was indeed a very valuable man, and a gentleman of rare qualifications. But we shall have in the sequel, several occasions of speaking of him again; for Mr. Amiatt having been appointed chief of the factory at Azim-abad, continued to make use of Mirza-abdollah in almost all the transactions that fell within the verge of his influence; and as the latter was likewise a great friend of mine, he introduced me to the English rulers; and it is from that day I must date the friendship which that ruler conceived for me, and my subsequent connections with the English. After this digression, which shall be forgiven to friendship, we shall revert to the stream of our general history.

Mir-djaafer-qhan, who had now done visiting the tombs and mausolea of the saints of Bahar; and had finished eating his bellyful of ox’s flesh, (for such was his own expression), took in earnest the resolution of returning to Bengal. It is reported that in advancing towards M8rsh8d-abad, he used to beguile the tediousness of the journey, by stepping out of the road, with only his guards and friends, and by hunting all the way; he at the same time amused himself with listening to the songs, and looking at the dances of a number of actresses and singers, which he carried with him upon elephants. It was this which he called his private parties, and which he had the simplicity to think very private indeed. In these parties he used often to ask his friends, what they “thought of his past times? And whether this was not the true manner of travelling and hunting? What could be meant by going into the woods and retiring into shady places? To enjoy life, undoubtedly,” added he, “in every kind of pleasure.” After having thus performed the journey, without so much as minding the affairs of State, he arrived at M8rsh8d-abad; where leaving the pleasure of Mans8r-gundy,^\(145\) which had always been Seradj-ed-döulah’s abode, he took up his residence on the other side of the water, in the palace heretofore inhabited by Aaly-verdy-qhan, the forgiven, and there he plunged headlong into all kinds of pleasure, without so much as bestowing one single thought on the affairs of State.

On the other hand, his son, Miren, who had taken a liking to the manners, and particular expressions of the debauchees, and the profligate of Shah-jehan-abad, (now become numerous in Bengal,) had enlisted four thousand of these people in his service; and these became his real satellites. He was extremely haughty and proud, as well as incapable to hear any remonstrance; and as he was still in the flower of his youth, the example of an aged father, addicted to women of the town, and plunged in every kind of pleasure, made a lively impression on his mind; and thinking that he had much more right than him to such a way of life, he plunged without scruple in every kind of debauchery; nor did either the father or son bestow one single thought on the necessity of settling the country, regulating the finances, quieting the clamours of the army, or easing the husbandmen. Matters went so far, that the troops, for want of pay, turned their horses loose into the fields, that the poor animals might support themselves by grazing. So that excepting some thousand men in the son’s service, who resembled him in their manners and way of speaking; and some hundred favourites and women of the father’s household, who consumed the little money that came in the treasury, not a man in the service had an assured subsistence. And those rich and extensive dominions that composed an Empire, were left to be plundered by a Chunny-lal and a M8nny-lal, and an Angnoss-sing, which latter was the head spy. The city and province of Djehanghir-nugur-dacca were left to be disposed of by Radj-B8ll8b, Divan to Miren, who had once been agent to Husséin-c8ly-qhan. The provinces, south of the Ganga, as Bardvan, and some others, had been pawned to the English, as a security for the payment of the coror and-a-half that had been promised them by treaty. H8gly was given to Emir-beg-qhan, who had been very active agent for Mir-djaafer-qhan, with the English, and had proved so very instrumental in laying the foundation of his future power and fortune. The whole province of Azim-abad acknowledged no other master than Radja Ram-naráin; and P8rania was in the hands of Qhadum-hassen-qhan, who amassed money, established his government, and inlisted troops. What overplus then could remain, after the sums extravagantly squandered away by the Navvab in his pleasures, did not amount to so much as might have quieted the troops, or enabled them to provide for their most necessary charges. The officers themselves were in misery; and such were the circumstances of even Assalet-qhan and Dilir-qhan, those brave sons of the brave Omer-qhan, who rather than to abandon Mir-djaafer-qhan, their friend, in his days of distress, had incurred Seradj-ed-döulah’s resentment, had been plundered and confined by him, and would have been put to death infallibly, had they not been rescued by a revolution which took place in the nick of time. Mir-djaafer-qhan often acknowledged how much he owed to their faithful and valorous services; often loaded them with encomiums and praises; and yet, left them to starve as well as the others, for want of pay; nor was there any one that would take notice of their representations; and what is singular, the Navvab talked of these matters with the incoherence and insensibility of a man loitering his time in a tippling shop. Indeed, in consequence of his inattention and his extravagant expense, he was often poorer than any of his drunken companions; but the military especially suffered particular hardships. Tired with so much misery, they lost all patience at last; and twenty months were hardly elapsed, since the new Sovereign had taken possession of a whole Empire, when the troops, tired with their own sufferings, and feeling now that the knife had cut through the quick down to the bone,^\(146\) they joined concerns, and resolved to rid themselves of so thoughtless a master. Qhadja-hady-qhan, Major-General, took the lead of a number of officers and Commanders of note, who joined together under mutual promises and solemn oaths; and they drew up a paper containing their design, as well as their resolution to stand by each other; it was signed by them all, and they apposed their seals to it. It is said, that Mir-cazem-qhan, the Paymaster, was an associate of Hady-qhan’s, in this affair; and, it is a fact, that his name and seal were found fixed on the paper in question. But it has been said also, by his servants and friends, that he knew nothing of the matter; and that the seal had been fixed thereon by one of his intimates, a Moluvy, or Doctor Mustepha, a strange man, without principle, shame, or religion, who had the management of his Brigade, of his household, and of every concern of his; and who being himself of the conspiracy, had, in order to strengthen his party, made use of his master’s seal, to which he had all times access.^\(147\) It is true that he was in high credit with his master, who had intrusted him with all his concerns. Unluckily for that officer, some of his friends were of the Navvab’s acquaintance. His own brother, Mir-djan-mahmed, was of the number, and even one of the Viceroy’s friends; so that it is universally reported, that to ingratiate himself with the Navvab, he not only gave him information of the conspiracy but on that Prince’s suggestion, added Mir-cazem-qhan’s name and seal to it. The conspirators waited until the month of Moharrem; on the first ten days of which, it was customary for Mir-djaafer-qhan to repair at nights to that building, called the House of Mourning,^\(148\) which had been erected by Seradj-ed-döulah, for commemorating yearly the martyrdom of the Prince of Martyrs, Husséin, son to Aaly, (upon whom be grace for ever!) The project was to seize the opportunity of one of those nights, in order to fall upon him.^\(149\) That time being come, and the Navvab making it, as usual, a practice of resorting to that holy place at nights, Qhadja-hady-qhan, with a number of his associates, took his post in one of the awnings attaining to that building; but he only verified the verse:

The Navvab got timely notice, and mounting on his nalky, he went away; nor did Hady-qhan find in himself daringness enough to execute his scheme. Mir-cazem-qhan, who followed the Navvab, called out to that officer, as he passed by him; but this signal answered no purpose; it only served to inspire suspicions on his own account, and to impress the Navvab with black fears, so that he ceased to resort to the Imam-bara. From that moment his suspicions against Hady-qhan and some others went on increasing; and meanwhile, the scheme which the conjured had in their hearts, having found its way to their tongues, it became a general topic in all assemblies. The Navvab being thereby confirmed in his suspicions, was waiting for further information, when Moluvy-Mustepha shewed him the identical paper, whereon the conspirators had apposed their seals; and even some of them, to save themselves from the Navvab’s resentment, and from his son’s cruel temper, made haste to join the Moluvi, and to disclose all the names they knew. The matter now had become so public, that Hady-qhan could neither deny, or even excuse or palliate it, although the Navvab gave himself time to determine on the party he was to take. But meanwhile Hady-qhan, who was a man of courage, shut himself up in his house with his friends, and resolved to defend himself to the last extremity. Mir-cazem-qhan’s behaviour was different. With the Word of God in one hand, and his children in the other, he entered the hall of audience, and in the presence of the Navvab and his son, he swore to his innocence upon both, and submitted to the consequences, with which his perjury was threatened, by the sacred book. To remove further every suspicion from his innocence, he had dismissed and disbanded his whole corps, and had brought his dismission of the office of Paymaster, intending henceforward The conspiracy is discovered, and severely punished. to live in private within his family. All these demonstrations persuadad no man in the city; and the Navvab and his son continuing to believe him guilty, they laid up in store a fund of enmity and rancour against him. Meanwhile an order was sent to Hady-qhan, to resign his office, and to quit the Navvab’s dominions. The man consented, put his baggage into some boats, and with a small number of friends, he proceeded over land. But care had been taken for his not going too far; the Navvab’s high-born and worthy son who was the acting man in government, had had the precaution to write to the Governor of Radj-mahl, and to the Commander of the garrison at Talia-garry,^\(150\) to manage in such a manner as that the man should not escape alive. The Commanders of those two garrisons, which mostly consisted of Afghan soldiers, no sooner saw the order, than they mounted and went out after him. On descending in the valley of Shah-abad, they descried Hady-qhan, who marched slowly along with his boats. That officer on seeing such a body of armed men, guessed their errand, and took his party in a moment. He ordered all his boats to be sunk in his presence in the middle of the Ganga; and arming himself, he mounted his horse, and with three or four friends that would not quit him, he rushed up on those that sought his life, and after having performed feats of prowess, he left a name worthy of being recorded in history. It is reported that whenever he rushed, the enemy fled by whole troops; nor would they fight him otherwise than by flights of arrows, and by showers of musket-balls. Hady-qhan having done with his four friends a great deal of execution, was wounded in several places, and fell like a brave man, courageously drinking up the bitter cup which was presented him by his destiny. He was buried on the spot close to the mosque of Shah-abad, under a large tree, which now serves for shelter and a pausing place to the weary travellers in the heat of the day. Such was the end of that unfortunate brave man.

We must now revert to the thread of our history, and especially to the affairs of Azim-abad where, as soon as the Navvab was departed, Ram-naráin resolved to bring under controul the Radja Bishen-sing, Zemindar of Seress and Cotumbah, who after Seradj-ed-döulah’s death, had refused to pay any rent to the treasury, and wanted to become independent. The Governor had a good body of troops, and a train of artillery; and he was accompanied by Baboo Pahluvan-sing, and his brother, Baboo Set-har-sing, Zemindars of consequence, in the districts of Sahar-serám and Chéin-p8r; two men who had risen to that power by Aaly-verdy-qhan’s favour and countenance. But before his departure for that expedition he was pleased to settle a small salary upon me, and to accompany the gift with a message, importing that “the little he could afford now to oblige me, was out of his private purse; and that he made a tender of it both as a compensation for the damage which my Djaghiry estate must have undergone, and as an earnest of the full possession to which he would himself introduce me.” As I had neglected to follow Mir-djaafer-qhan, and had declined to accept Mir-cazem-qhan’s invitation, I had no other party left, than that of accepting whatever Ram-naráin chose to do for me; especially as I had hopes of being soon reinstated in my estate. The Radja having marched out, I followed him of course, and was joined by my younger brothers. Bishen-sing made some resistance in his mud-forts, and would not submit; at last observing that the Radja was resolved to subdue him, he was seized with fears, and promised to come to certain terms, on condition that the officers of the army should become guarantees for the safety of his life and honour. That favour having been granted him on the supplications of the officers, the Zemindar came out and made the Radja a visit, in which he brought his affairs to a conclusion; giving his son, Naráin-sing, a boy of twelve years of age, in hostage for the arrears which he owed, and for the faithful performance of the agreement. It may be remarked that this very Bishen-sing, as well as his father and uncles, with their whole family, had been in times of yore protected and preferred by my forgiven father; but on our family being exiled out of the province by Seradj-ed-döula, he had been the foremost in seizing the lands, villages, and forts, that constituted my Djaghir, and hereditary estate. He gained some of our Commanders in these forts, and drove the others by main force. But the Commander of the Fort of Aaly-nugur, who was a Radj-p8t-mundiár,^\(151\) and a relation of that ungrateful man, was conserved in his post out of regard to himself, and to his uncle, the Zemindar of Chergam. Radja Ram-naráin, who conformably to his promise, had shewn me a great deal of kindness, seemed intent on putting in execution Mir-djaafer-qhan’s order, concerning my brother, Naky-aaly-qhan. He spoke much to Bishen-sing on the necessity of his evacuating the forts and lands of my Djaghir, and carried away in hostage his son, Narain-sing, then a boy; he then permitted my brother to go and recovcr my estate in those parts; and, on his representation, he directed me to get him accompanied by some of the soldiers of my corps. With respect to myself, as he seemed disinclined from parting company with me, I followed him to Azim-abad. Meanwhile, Naky-aaly-qhan, with his small troop, marched to Rhotass, and forced several forts and villages belonging to me; but could do nothing against the castle of Aaly-nugur, not only as it was of some strength, but likewise as the faithless Radj-p8t was encouraged in his insubordination by Bishen-sing, his relation. The matter becoming of importance, I represented my case to Radja Ram-narain, who immediately wrote to Radja Sunder-sing, Zemindar of San8t, with injunctions to support Naky-aaly-qhan in his right. I also wrote myself to him on the same subject. The Radja, who was a sensible, equitable man, and who remembeted how much my forgiving father had been instrumental in rendering him the principal Zemindar of the province of Azim-abad, thought proper to take in this affair such an active part, as was incumbent on his gratitude; and his interference was of much weight, as Aaly-verdy-qhan, to whom he owed his greatness originally, had enabled him to cut an eminent figure in the province, where he always appeared with the insignia of a kettle-drum, and a fringed Paleky. He therefore wrote a severe letter of reprimand to Bishen-sing, his brother Zemindar; and sent a threatening message to the refractory Radj-p8t; so that both these faithless men, fearing the consequences that might arise from an obstinacy which produced threats from everywhere, surrendered the castle to Naky-aaly-qhan; and this affair being brought to a conclusion at last, the whole district, in question, submitted with pleasure to order and controul.

All this while, I lived with my worthy mother, at Azim-abad, where I enjoyed a great share in Ram-naráin’s estimation, and where I had for my companion Séyd-aaly-qhan, the youngest of my brothers, and the kindest and most attached to me. Some little differences only would arise now and then with Naky-aaly-qhan, who on the supposition that the Djaghir had been released on his account, was somewhat assuming. But for that flaw in his character, he is an amiable man; and, God be thanked, he is now united with us all, in that sincerity which becomes a brother Only some parts of his behaviour discover a mind inclined to controuling; and he seems impressed with some pride; but this is what he cannot help; nor can he correct his overbearing spirit, as such is his natural temper.

We have just seen how the Navvab had been extricated by his good fortune from a very dangerous conspiracy. This success augmented both the old man’s indolence, and his son’s imperiousness. This son who was the light and flambeau of his family, as well as the soul of his father’s Government, no sooner saw himself rid of that ill-concerted conspiracy, than his pride and haughtiness knew no bounds. Both the father and the son became insupportable, and seemed to touch the firmament with their foreheads. The son boiled over, and he resolved to make away with Mir-cazem-qhan also, that officer, who after having resigned the command of his corps, and the office of Paymaster, lived now privately within his family. This unfortunate man, intent on eradicating every thing like suspicion from Miren’s mind, used to come often to Court with only a small number of menial servants; and he seemed to mind nothing but amusement, although underhand he made interest for being readmitted into favour. But the winter time being now come, Miren used often to amuse himself with paper-kites, and other flying engines; in which, to lull Mir-cazem-qhan asleep, and to put him off his guard, he always requested his taking an active part in those amusements, desiring him to come every evening for the purpose of contending with him, or as often as there should be any wind stirring. The poor man found himself under the necessity of employing himself in such pastimes, and of acquiring in them a skill, that gradually entangled him in the net of artifice and destruction. His custom was to come in the evening; where, after having paid his respects, he used to repair to the strand which spread under Miren’s house, in the bed of the Baghratty, and often to contend with him. On a Saturday, the twenty-first of the second Reby, of the year 1172, he came as usual, without arms, and with nothing but a dopata about his loins,^\(152\) in which condition he paid his respects to Miren. It was in the evening. Miren had taken into his pay two or three hundred Rohila-afghans, who might have been considered as the remains of the army of Sham, and full as thirsty as they, of the Séyds.^\(153\) He had lodged them in the out-buildings of his palace, where he reserved them for sudden executions. Some of these, whom he particularly trusted, he had in the morning called to his closet, where he had secretly given them orders to put the poor man to death. Their instructions were to let him walk in, as usual, to pay his respects in the evening; after which, the moment he should turn about, in order to repair to the strand, they were only to let him walk a few paces out of the gate, and then to fall upon him at once, so as to hack him to pieces. At the usual time, Mir-cazem-qhan came, and Miren spoke much to him about his kites, and about bringing them to an engagement. There happened to be then present, a young man called Mirza-abdollah, son to Mirza-mehmed, alias Aga-mirza, who had been introductor to Shudjah-qhan, once Sovereign of Bengal. As he took a mighty delight at these paper amusements, and he wanted then to contend with Mir-cazem-qhan, he got up to join him. But his death was not to happen that day; nor had Miren any thought about him at all; far from that, he was debating with himself how he might part them, and whither such a precaution would not disclose his secret. On the other hand, he was loath that the man should lose his life for no reason at all. An incident extricated him from his perplexity. Mir-cazem-qhan having advanced three steps out of the gate, came back, and said that the agent of the Radja of Nediah would be glad to pay his respects. Let him come in, said Miren, and you Mirsa-abdollah, do you go upon the strand and raise your kite, until your antagonist is at hand to join you. These few words saved Mirza-abdollah, by making him part company with the devoted victim; they seem to have been suggested by Providence itself. Otherwise, and but for that circumstance, the poor man would have been involved in the other’s massacre. Mir-cazem-qhan having come back to introduce the agent, had time to live the few moments more which were yet of his portion; and he was returning to his Paleky, when the Afghans getting up, surrounded him; and one of them ran an Afghan knife, which is equal to half a sabre, through his side with so much violence, that it came out at the other side. At this signal, the others fell upon him, and with their knives and sabres, they hacked him to pieces, and sent him to the desert of nothingness. May God Almighty have joined his soul to the assembly of his pious ancestors! Mirza-abdollah, who saw this execution, was much surprised and confounded; but the next day as he came to Court, Miren embraced him tenderly, drew him to his bosom, congratulated him on his having come to life a second time, and seemed mightily pleased to see he had so providentially escaped; he added, that not one knew any thing Mir-cazem involved in the punition. of the secret, save his fool, Lahory-beg. But the fool hearing the assertion, rejected the compliment; and although he might, in consequence of his master’s acknowledgment, assume the honor of an inviolable secrecy, he thought it more prudent to say, that His Highness, indeed, was pleased to say so; but that, in fact, he himself knew nothing of the matter.

The murdered Séyd was of the race of Beni-moqhtar, and son to Séyd-yssa, an Arabian, who married a daughter of Akydet-qhan’s sister; and this last was a nobleman of high rank, who was himself son to the famous Emir-qhan Umdet-el-mulk^\(154\) Viceroy of Cabul, a man of distinction, and of an illustrious pedigree even in Iran,^\(155\) where he enjoyed a high office in that country. Mir-cazem’s ancestors, on their very coming in Hindostan, had been raised to the highest dignities, and they had always been, from father to son, in such offices of importance, as put it in their power to oblige an infinity of persons. He drew his origin in a direct line from Naamet-ollah, the Hassénite.^\(156\)

Miren having quieted his mind by this murder, turned his view towards the consort of Aaly-verdy-qhan and his two eldest daughters, as well as towards that Prince’s daughter-in-law, Lootf-en-nessa-begum, relict of Seradj-ed-döula, from whom she had an infant daughter, now four years old. All those illustrious, Several illustrious, but defenceless women thrown into a loathsome prison. those unfortunate, defenceless women were turned into a loathsome confinement, although himself, with his whole family, owed every thing to that house; although it had indeleble rights over his gratitude; although so lately as the time when Seradj-ed-döula was seeking Mir-djaafer-qhan’s life, Gahasity-bibi, the eldest daughter, had assisted him secretly, as well as his adherents, with every eshrefy^\(157\) which she had been able to save of the wreck of her fortune; although she had greatly advanced thereby the revolution that saved the father’s life, and she had, at last, brought him to the very steps of a throne. All these illustrious women, after having been kept confined in the most indecent manner, were huddled together into some bad boats, and sent to Djehanghir-nugur, in the most disgraceful and shameless neglect; for now a black cloud was gathering over his head, and he wanted to ease his mind by getting rid of every object capable of exciting his suspicions.

Hardly two or three months had elapsed since Mir-cazem-qhan’s murder, when a strong report prevailed that the Imperial Prince Aaly-goher, son to Alemghir the second, was coming into Bengal. It is the same Prince whom Mir-sheabeddin, who bore the title of Umad-el-mulk (or Prop of the State), had brought out of confinement, after Ahmed-shah’s demise, to seat him on the throne. The Prince thought proper to invite Mahmed-c8li-qhan, Governor or Navvab of Ilah-abad, to accompany him in his expedition against Bengal. This Mahmed-c8li-qhan, alias Mirza-c8chec, was son to Mirza-mohsun, who was himself nephew to Ab8l-mans8r-qhan, the Vezir. But whilst this approaching war was the general topic everywhere, the troops in Bengal, who received nothing of either arrears or actual pay, being reduced to downright beggary, had often come to an open sedition, and besieged Mir-djaafer-qhan in his very palace. All that did not avail; nor did the Navvab alter his conduct. At one time, even Dilir-qhan and Assalet-qhan had joined the besiegers; for those brave sons of Umer-qhan had been reduced to the same beggary as others, although they had risked their lives and ruined their fortunes, by their attachment to Mir-djaafer-qhan, over whose gratitude they had acquired such incontestable rights, as were indefeasible. Even such meritorious men became an eye-sore to Miren; even these he wanted to drive from Bengal, unmindful of the many obligations which both himself and his father had owed to those two heroic brothers; and nothing would have prevented the scheme from being put in execution, but a well-grounded apprehension of the extremities to which resentment might carry two such Herculean men, whenever once their natural prowess and known bravery should have been pushed to despair. Nor was Miren a man to desist so easily, but for the certain intelligence which came at this very time, that the Imperial Prince had set out from Ilah-abad, accompanied by Mahmed-c8li-qhan, on his way to Bengal. The father and son, on hearing such a piece of news, thought it high time to listen to the complaints of the troops. They gave them a small part of their arrears; and the seditions and clamours of those people subsided for the time, and left him some leisure to think of Azim-abad.

Ram-naráin, the Governor of that province, was known for a man timid, wavering, and artful. Far from being sincere in his profession to the Navvab, he hated and despised him; but as he was likewise under engagements to the English, he did not choose to bring himself under the imputation of faithlessness and treason to a man with whom they were confederated. In his heart he did not like his situation, and he waited only for a favourable moment to get rid of it; nor were the two Zemindars, Sunder-sing and Pahluvan-sing, better inclined towards the new Nazem, or Prince. Indebted for their greatness to Aaly-verdy-qhan, and impressed with gratitude to that house, they wished to promote the ruin of his enemy, and to tear his family by the roots. And indeed, those very persons that had taken a disgust at Seradj-ed-döulah’s person, for the ferocity of his manners, and the levity of his tongue, by which last he used to ridicule and The Navvab’s detestable conduct renders Seradj-ed-döulah regretted. render contemptible the Grandees of the country; those very men who had wished for his ruin, in hopes that a man advanced in years, as was Mir-djaafer-qhan, and full of experience, as they expected, would govern them with moderation, without carrying things to extremity, against a family to which he was allied, and to which he owed every thing; those very men, I say, on seeing the despicable conduct of the father, and the detestable actions of the son, became another set of men, and were totally alienated from the old man. They now remembered Seradj-ed-döulah, and remembered him with shame and regret; their enmity to him changed into pity and commiseration; and they were daily regretting him, and speaking to his advantage; and this was the general sense of the public, whether amongst the knowing ones, or amongst the simple, whether in public or in private. What shocked exceedingly in Mir-djaafer-qhan’s character was, that after having rendered himself so conspicuous in Aaly-verdy-qhan’s time by his liberality and his sympathy to the soldier, he should have become now a wretch of the most sordid avarices, and a very carrion in parsimony and stinginess; just as if he had forgotten who he had been, or what character he had once sustained. One day, some one took the liberty to tell him his sense of that alteration, in these very words: “My Lord-Navvab, a time was when you were renowned for liberality. What is become of it now?” “Friend,” answered he unconcernedly, “in Aaly-verdy-qhan’s time, the matter consisted only in taking up water from a river, and in bestowing another’s money; but now that the river is become my own, my heart aches whenever I am obliged to part with any of its water, were it even to a friend.” This state of things having been reported to Mahmed-c8ly-qhan, Prince of Ilah-abad, he resolved to avail himself of it. Indeed he was a man of no genius, and proved wholly destitute of intelligence; but yet, he had abundance of courage; and as he was wholly dissatisfied with the confined limits of his principality, and the smallness of his income, he conceived the design of bettering his fortune by the conquest of either Azim-abad or Bengal. This scheme took so far possession of his mind, that he imparted it to his relation and neighbour, Mirza-djelal-eddin-háider, alias Shudjah-ed-döulah, Viceroy or Sovereign of A8d and Lucnow. The latter, who wished this long time to see his kinsman out of Ilah-abad, encouraged him in his scheme, promised his assistance, and offered to follow his steps, as soon as he should have made an impression on the enemies’ country. It was therefore resolved between them, that the Imperial Prince, Aaly-goher, now styled Shah-aalem, should contribute to the expedition by his name, at least, and his pedigree; and as this Prince, intimidated by the Vezir Umad-el-mulk’s power and cruelty, was leading the life of a fugitive, and enjoyed but a precarious subsistence with Nédjib-qhan, in whose dominions he had taken shelter; he listened with pleasure to the many invitations by which he was requested to put himself at the head of the undertaking; after which, there would remain nothing more, than to march down towards those Eastern kingdoms.^\(158\) All these matters having been adjusted between those two Princes, Mahmed-c8li-qhan repeatedly wrote to the Imperial Prince, to request his presence. The latter, who had been this longwhile putting up his fervent prayers to Heaven for some such opportunity, seized it by the hair, and taking with him what servants and friends he had about his person, he proceeded to Ilah-abad. On his march he received respectful letters from Radja Sunder-sing, who also addressed my father on the subject, as he acted as Prime Minister to that forlorn Prince; and he requested his presence in countries, that waited only for the moment of receiving him with open arms. And here it must be remembered that the Gentoo Prince, being bent on revenging Seradj-ed-döulah’s death, had provided a large force, which he had furnished with every thing necessary; and that he panted in his heart for that happy moment, when some man of consequence might lend his name to the undertaking, and put it in his power to take a full revenge from Mir-djaafer-qhan; for he had borne a strong attachment to Aaly-verdy-qhan, and thought his honour concerned in revenging the injuries offered to his family. For this purpose, he had likewise drawn Pahluvan-sing in his views, another Zemindar of consequence and it must be acknowledged, that this Hindoo Prince was a man of great merit, brave and valorous, greatly esteemed in the province, very intelligent in business, and very grateful in his attachments—in one word, he was a man of such uncommon qualities, and of such extraordinary talents, that it is highly probable, that had fate permitted it, Radja Sunder-sing, one of the most zealous friends of a revolution, is killed accidentally. he would have brought his enterprise to maturity, by overcoming every obstacle; but destiny cut him short in the flower of his age, and on the very eve of unfolding his project. Under pretence of making a tour throughout his dominions, and of seeing Radja Ram-naráin, he set out from his fortress of Ticavy, and encamped in the plain, where he assembled his troops silently. Unfortunately for him, the festival of Besent-panchmi,^\(159\) which is held sacred amongst the Gentoos, arrived at that time; and he was celebrating it with the usual rejoicings amongst the Commanders of his troops. Amongst these was one Sheh-gholam-ghö8ss, a son of the famous Sheh-hassen-cadyri, the Lucnovian, who had begotten him upon a Kencheni, or dance-woman, or actress. He bore the character of a brave man, had been employed in many difficult services by Sunder-sing, and had thereby so far endeared himself to that Prince that he often obtained whatever he had a mind to ask, the Radja having a paternal affection for him. This officer came that day, and with very little ceremony, requested the favour of a thousand rupees, to make merry with his friends. This request was introduced with no preamble at all, as he was accustomed to obtain much more important favours. These importunities at last had often fatigued the Radja, who on granting one some days ago, had chanced to say in company, that Sheh-gholam-ghö8ss had indeed inherited an heroical bravery, and many military talents from his father; but that as to a turn of mind for importunity, which rendered him sometimes a disagreeable man, he held it unquestionably from his mother. Such an observation sunk deep in the officer’s mind; and setting at nought all the obligations he owed to his benefactor, he resolved to sacrifice him to his resentment; and like a snake rolled upon itself, he only waited for a favourable moment; and to all appearance he had now come with such a design in his heart. This much is certain that his importunities to-day exceeded all bounds. Gholam-ghö8ss, said the Gentoo Radja, so much importunity is not likely to do you any good.—He had hardly uttered these few words, when the other swearing he could not part with him, unless he obtained his request, the Radja got up with intention to retire; but the other having laid hold of him by the hem of his coat, drew him so low as to give him a violent blow with his poniard in the breast. The blow was mortal, and the Radja fell dead. On sight of this, B8ni-sing, the Cahtree, one of the Prince’s friends, ran upon the murderer to seize him; but was laid dead with another such stroke; and the villain having again wounded another man, who was a relation to the two dead men, fled instantly, and ran to the gate, where meeting by chance a horse ready saddled, he jumped upon it, and fled towards the little river of P8n-p8n; where being incessantly pursued by several men on foot, four cosses together, at the head of whom was Sab8ri-sing, a relation of the murdered Radja, who lamed his horse, and called him a coward, much more capable to murder a defenceless man, than to fight an armed one; he turned about, dismounted and engaged his pursuer. In the scuffle, the officer’s sabre having broke, he closed with his enemy, and threw him on the ground, where the struggling continued; but where he was soon dispatched with sticks and stones by some peasants, to whom Sab8ry-sing’s reproaches had given courage. The man was punished; but the murdered Prince did not live long enough to carry that sort of consolation to his grave.

This accident proved of considerable detriment to the Imperial Prince; but did not check the expedition at all. He had with him several persons of character and distinction, all attached to his fortune; but all in as much distress as their master. The first of these was the poor man’s father, who went by the name and titles of Bacshy-el-mulk, Nassyr-ed-döula, Séyd-hedáiet-aaly-qhan, Bahadyr-assed-djung;^\(160\) the second was Medar-ed-döula, whose other titles I do not recollect at present; The Prince, Aaly-goher, undertakes an expedition against Bengal. the third was Fazl-ollah-qhan, Mumtaz-ed-döula,^\(161\) grandson to Yticad-qhan, the Cashmirian favourite of Feroh-syur’s; the fourth, Nob qhan; the fifth, Munnir-ed-döula, Reza-c8li-qhan, Nadyr-djung;^\(162\) the sixth, Bahadyr-aaly-qhan, the eunuch. Let not the reader of these sheets imagine, that it is out of tenderness to my father, that I have placed him at the head of this noble list. It is notorious that, on the Imperial Prince’s coming out of Shah-djehan-abad, his circumstances were so distressful and his poverty so complete, that not one man of character would think of either assisting him, or following his fortunes. Every one was, besides, in dread of the Vizir Umad-el-mulk’s resentment; nor had the Prince been able to come out at all, had not that Minister, who now breathed revenge against Shudja-ed-döula, set out on a journey to meet Ahmed-qhan-bangash, as well as the other Afghan Princes, whom he had brought over to his party; all considerable events, of which we shall speak fully in this Second Volume, when we shall come to recount the history of the Emperors, and principal men of Hindostan. Then shall we relate the events happened at the capital and its environs; then shall we mention, occasionally, what shall prove remarkable in them, as well as in the more distant provinces of the Empire, towards the Decan. At present our business is with the Prince Aaly-goher.—Zinet Mahal,^\(163\) his mother, having obtained leave He is strongly recommended by his mother to Hedáiet-aaly-qhan, father to our author. from her husband, the Emperor Alemghir the second, sent for my illustrious father at the gate of the sanctuary, where she put the Prince’s hand in that nobleman’s hand, tenderly recommended him to his care, interchanged with him the most solemn and most tremendous oaths; and made use of so many entreaties, and so many tears, that my forgiven father was overcome by such an unexpected scene; and from that moment resolved firmly to support him with all the vigour and fidelity in his power. He then took the Prince apart, and encouraged him to make some efforts in his own cause; as we are going soon to mention. For we intend to recount in this Volume, whatever concerns this Prince’s wars and journeys; and in particular, his expedition into these Eastern countries; and we shall reserve for the following sheets, whatever is relative to his taking possession of Shah-djehan-abad, or refers to the countries in the environs of that capital.

The Shah-zada having entrusted my forgiven father with his person and concerns, was seconding, as much as he could, the efforts which that nobleman was making in his behalf; he looked up to him as a zealous friend, and constantly followed his directions. It is true, that he was not a man of great qualifications, or great knowledge; but he compensated that deficieney by shewing himself studious to give that illustrious nobleman every mark of deference and honour in his power, both in his absence and in his presence. Nor did he relax in the sequel, but continued to oblige the brothers, relations, and friends of a man who was no more; and he did it to the utmost of his power and their own merits; and his gratitude carried such an air of sincerity, that even now it is probable he would, to all appearance, do something handsome for that nobleman’s descendants, were he so much as to hear of them. Munnir-ed-döulah, who had been before in the service of Intyzam-ed-döulah, son to the Vizier Cammer-eddin-qhan, as Superintendent of his war equipage, was introduced by my forgiven father to the Prince, and soon became his favourite and Minister. But it would be unjust to conceal, that even after his elevation, he conserved the most grateful remembrance of the services rendered him by that worthy nobleman, my father; never speaking to him but with the utmost respect, and in the humblest posture; and even after his demise, he never missed an opportunity of obliging his children and family; and of shewing me, the poor man, in particular, so much deference and such marks of respect, as greatly exceeded my merits, as well as my station in the world, and even my age in life. He was a valuable man, unquestionably. May God have received him in his mansion of mercy!

As for the Shah-zada, as soon as he had received the letters of invitation from Mahmed-c8li-qhan, he made haste to assemble a large number of men, especially from amongst the distressed Séyds of the ruined town of Barr; and with these he set out for Ilah-abad, leaving my father and Munnir-ed-döulah in those parts, as they had undertaken to prepare for him a field equipage, with some other necessaries; and to bring into his service, on the fame of this expedition, and on the hopes of bettering their fortunes, as many disbanded soldiers as they could persuade; after which, they were to march down to Ilah-abad. The Shah-zada having quitted Miran-p8r, the place of his residence, arrived on the frontiers of Shudja-ed-döula’s dominions, where that Prince marched out of his capital to meet him; and after having made him such a present, in money and effects, as he thought proper, he gave him much encouragement, informing him of his agreement with Mahmed-c8ly-qhan, and of his intention to march to his assistance; intention which, in fact, had never existed. The Shah-zada, having taken leave, proceeded to Ilah-abad, where on his arrival in the outskirts of that city, Mahmed-c8li-qhan went out to receive him; and after having had the honour to kiss the columns that supported the Imperial throne, he made him alight at a lodging that had been provided for the purpose; and there he imparted to him the particulars of his scheme; so that for some days, frequent councils were held on that subject. The hungry Grandees of the Prince’s famished Court were soon gained over by Mahmed-c8ly-qhan, and soon were of his opinion; especially Medar-ed-döula, who was a complete master of the art of becoming any one’s friend, no matter whether good or bad, for his money; for he knew how to accommodate himself to all tempers, soon took the lead of all the Shah-zada’s friends in this affair, and soon became the channel of all intelligence, and all consultation between the Prince and Mahmed-8ly-qhan. Whilst they were holding councils, Shudja-ed-döula, who never had any other view but that of deceiving his kinsman, and who only waited for a good opportunity, took a journey to Ilah-abad, where he made him understand that he was ready to follow him as soon as the Prince should have made an impression on the enemy’s country. “But then,” said he, “I cannot think of quitting my own ground to invade any one’s dominions, and especially the Eastern ones, unless I have some place of safety where I may leave my consort and family; and you know that I cannot leave them in an open country, every moment exposed to the invasions of Umad-el-mulk, of Ahmed-qhan-bangash, and of the other Afghan Princes. Now I see no other such place of safety, but your Fortress of Chennar; and although it has no accommodations for Princesses and ladies of rank, and its climate and air are sultry and unwholesome, on account of the proximity of the hills that come close upon it, yet we shall put up with such an inconvenience. Let me have then such an order under your own hand and seal, to Mirza-nedjef-qhan, the Governor of the fortress, as I may in an emergency avail myself of, to lodge my family and consort in that castle, together with your own; for after all, our families and interests, you know, are one and the same. Once my mind easy on that subject, I will soon follow you with such a force, as, joined to yours, may insure success. Believe me, what I say is advantageous to both sides.” Mahmed-c8li-qhan, who was a plain, unsuspecting man, incapable of deceit, and who was, besides, actually impelled by the decrees of fate, gave the order such as it was requested, together with another to the officers of the garrison; and he even repeated his order to Mirza-nedjef-qhan, then present, in these very terms: “You know that there is no difference at all between the Lord-Navvab and me; we are german-brothers to each other, and sons of two brothers. Whether I be present or absent, he is my representative. Take care to do, as he shall command you.” Such were the expressions he made use of; for that senseless man conceived, that in the present circumstances, such expressions, such a confidence, and such a management, were so many strokes of policy, and would infallibly promote his expedition, by engaging Shudja-ed-döula to join heartily in it; and in that notion of his, he gave the order couched in such terms as the other dictated. Shudja-ed-döula, Mahmed-c8ly-qhan,
Lord of Ilah-abad, joins the Prince. furnished with such a piece, returned to his capital; and Mahmed-c8li-qhan prepared to set out with what troops and artillery he was master of; adding only to his train two large pieces of brass cannon, which he brought down from one of the towers of the Fortress of Ilah-abad, and which he mounted upon field-carriages. After all these preparatives, he made choice of a favourable moment, and quitting his palace in the fortress, he encamped in the suburbs of the town. It was in the year 1172 of the Hejira. Two days after he set out on his expedition, taking the Shah-zada, and his whole retinue with him.

So mighty a scheme, and such movements could not long remain a secret, far, as well as near; and Ram-naráin, who had at all times regular intelligence, was soon informed of the intended expedition. He gave notice of it to Mr. Amiatt, the chief of the English factory; and forwarded it, at the same time, to his two masters in Bengal. But neither the old Navvab, nor his son were men to march against such an enemy, without the assistance of the English. They applied, therefore, to Colonel Clive, and proposed that he should accompany them in this expedition; but although the English are such cautious people, as to have always their artillery and other necessaries ready, without being obliged to make them anew upon an emergency, as is the case with our Hindostany armies and artilleries, which require to be fitted up anew upon every occasion; nevertheless they were not prepared for such a long journey, and could not set out on so short a warning. On the other hand, their confederates, that is, the Navvab and his son, were so ill prepared, that but for the Colonel, they would have been incapable to move at all; it being impossible for them either to evade, or to satisfy the demands of such multitudes of old troops and new levies. At last, after a deal of time spent in wavering, they found means to move just as Mahmed-c8li-qhan, with the Shah-zada, was arrived on the Keremnassa, which is a little river, that serves as a boundary to the province of Azim-abad.

As soon as it became known at Azim-abad, that the Shah-zada had moved from Banares, Ram-naráin was struck with a panic, especially as neither the English made any motion from Calcutta, nor his two masters from M8rsh8d-abad; and meanwhile the enemies’ forces, of whose prowess he had heard wonders, as being part of the famous army of Ab8l-mans8r-qhan’s, were coming down upon him like a storm; and with all the terrors that always precede the Imperial name, were going to pour upon his country like a torrent swelled by heavy rains, or like a calamity that would overwhelm every thing. However, although overcome inwardly by his apprehensions, he thought it incumbent upon him to appoint an hour for putting himself at the head of his army; and he actually came out, and encamped at the garden of Fateh-bagh, close to Variss-qhan’s Reservoir.^\(164\) The intent of this ambiguous position was, to turn the motions of the Bengal forces to his advantage, should they make their Ram-naráin tempers with the two parties appearance first; in which case he would ascribe this manœuvre to his zeal, and to his readiness in serving his masters; and to close with the Shah-zada, should the Navvab abstain from opposing the enemy, and should his English confederates do the same, on observing the backwardness of their ally, in which last case, such a manœuvre of his would be naturally interpreted as a design of joining the Prince. He therefore remained some days on that spot, eager for intelligence, and anxious to see which of his two wives would first be brought to bed.^\(165\) In a few days it became ascertained, that neither the Navvab, nor the English, had yet moved from Bengal; and on the other hand, it became notorious, that the Shah-zada had forded the Keremnassa, and was marching to Azim-abad. This last intelligence turned the scales. Ram-naráin thought it prudent to close with the latter; but, first of all, he went to consult Mr. Amiatt, the English chief at Azim-abad; and he told him, “that to this moment, no one had thought of Ram-naráin in Bengal, and none had moved to his assistance; nor was it prudent in him to go to war alone with the Shah-zada and Mahmed-c8li-qhan. He requested, therefore, Mr. Amiatt’s opinion, about what might be proper to be done by a man in his distressed circumstances; and what party he thought convenient for him to take.” Mr. Amiatt answered in these words: With respect to ourselves, if our army comes, we shall remain where we are; else, we shall advance a few days’ journey towards Bengal, and there will stay until we receive orders from the council, and until the times shall point out what is proper to be done. As for yourself, it is convenient that you should manage with some art, and seem to humour the enemy. If, meanwhile, you receive assistance, it is very well; else, if you do not, take your own party.

Ram-naráin having received precisely such an answer as he wished, undertook to manage both parties. To Miren, and to the Colonel, he wrote “That he had come out in military array, and wanted no better than to fight; but that he had not the means in his power; and he added, that if the English should arrive in time, he would not fail to shew his zeal and attachment.” On the other hand, not thinking it proper to write letters to the Western army, he, by the means of convenient persons, assured the Shah-zada and his General, of his good will and attachment.

Whilst all this double management was going on, I lived retired in Azim-abad with my mother and all my brothers, being suspicious of the times, and fearful of involving myself in difficulties. But Naky-aaly-qhan, my second brother, who lived upon our estate, made cheap of these apprehensions; although I had every reason in the world to fear lest Miren, informed of the great figure which our father actually cut in the enemy’s camp, should so far listen to the dictates of that generosity innate in his character, as to write to his Deputy, Ram-naráin, to effect our total ruin. In fact, he wrote him word that the exciter of all this storm was no other than Séyd-hedáiet-aaly-qhan, the Shah-zada’s great adviser, whose sons, who lived in Azim-abad, had doubtless put that expedition into their father’s head, and were therefore to be carefully watched. Such was the purport of Miren’s letter. Now, I protest, that I was wholly ignorant of the Prince’s, as well as Mahmed-c8li-qhan’s, intentions; and that years had elapsed since I had not wrote to my father; for the old nobleman, trusting altogether to his connections and affinity with Aaly-verdy-qhan, whose grand-mother, was sister to my glorious mother, had married a second time in Shah-djehan-abad, with all the pomp of a mighty nobleman; after which he spent his time in taking fine women into service, purchasing pretty girls, to serve as saplings to his seraglio, and giving large salaries to singers and dancers, and especially to those that came from the school of the famous Lal-mia, the Cashmirian; and all this without having ever minded his family, or thought of us in any shape. So that in sixteen years’ time, in which he had been commanding armies, and spending monthly several lacs for his own household, and making the fortunes of an infinity of persons, he had never so much as thought of sending a single piece of gold to either my glorious mother or to any of his children. Meanwhile it had pleased the Almighty one, that feeds the whole creation, to make us find, with every one of Aaly-verdy-qhan’s nephews, a subsistence so honourable and plentiful, as put it in our power to live independently, without having been at any time under a necessity of applying to our father, or even of expecting that forgiven nobleman’s attention. We lived on both sides with ease and dignity; in so much, that months and years would elapse before an opportunity could offer to exchange a message or a letter. Will it not be surprising after this preamble, if Ram-naráin, on receiving the above letter from his two masters, should desire my attendance, and read it to me aloud? On hearing the contents, I answered, “That I took God to witness, that I had not the least connections with this affair, nor indeed any good will for it. That it was not probable that a fallen nobleman, like my father, should have conceived such mighty thoughts; but much likelier that the whole expedition originated with Mahmed-c8ly-qhan, who had a whole province at his disposal, with a full treasury, and an army trained by Ab8l-mans8r-qhan; and who, besides, was nearly related to Shudja-ed-döula, himself a powerful Prince, and the Vezir of the Empire. That independently of those considerations, it was known to all the world, that our family settled at Azim-abad these many years, had ceased to entertain any connections with our father, or even to keep up a correspondence of letters with that nobleman; article on which we felt our conscience thoroughly clear. But nevertheless, that if his masters found their advantage in injuring, ruining, and demolishing an innocent family; and he thought it prudent in himself to comply with such orders; we are ready, and at his command; nor could we entertain the most distant thought of resistance; nor are we willing, added I, to bring any blame upon you. Please then to execute your orders.” Ram-naráin on hearing these few words cast a glance at M8rly-dur, the head spy, who was one of the principal men of Azim-abad, and had Ram-naráin’s ear entirely at command; and both joined in desiring me to be easy, and to give my mind no anxiety at all on that Our author, rendered suspected on account of his father, clears himself. subject. I thanked them, but rejoined, you are pleased to say so at this moment; but should Miren come, and order you to make away with us, shall you put yourselves to the trouble of saving us then, or of protecting our persons? “Please, sir, to be easy on that head,” answered calmly Ram-naráin. “We can protect you; we will protect you; and if we should not be able to shelter you, we shall convey you safe out of the province, and recommend you to your own fate.” On hearing these declarations, I returned them my humble acknowledgments for their goodness and grateful remembrance; and I was yet with Ram-naráin, when intelligence came that the Shah-zada, with Mahmed-c8li-qhan, now styled Ytymad-ed-döula,^\(166\) was arrived, after having been joined at Banares by Séyd-hedáiet-ally-qhan, my father, at the head of a body of troops and a train of artillery. As soon as Ran-naráin had obtained a full information of this event, he imparted it to Mr. Amiatt, who did not seem dejected by it; but yet, as there were no news of any one’s having moved in Bengal, this Chief thought proper to embark on board of a number of badjarows and other boats which he had ready, and to descend the river for twenty or thirty cosses together, in company with a number of English gentlemen, which he had with him. He left in the factory a number of trusty musqueteers, of those since called Talingas; and he recommended them, together with the house, to Ram-naráin’s care. The latter seeing the Englishman’s retreat, thought proper to look out for an accommodation with the Shah-zada, and with his General. However, this was contrary to the opinion of Radja M8rly-dur, who, although an illiterate man, was a very extraordinary Brachman indeed, and a man incomparable for taking his party, or for pointing it to others. This man, who could neither read nor write, was a complete accomptant, and understood thoroughly every matter relative to revenue or to Government; but he spoiled all those qualifications by an insatiable ambition, which made him wish to have all the world dependent on his pleasure; and he was so covetous besides, that he endlessly busied himself in amassing and hoarding up immense quantities of money and wealth. This man objected to any agreement with Mahmed-c8li-qhan, and to any submission to the Shah-zada. He made cheap of their troops, and was firmly of opinion that they would never stand before the Bengal army, if the latter came supported by the English; and the event proved that he had guessed right; and that this man, who could not read in a book, knew very well how to read in futurity.

As to Ram-naráin, overawed by the very name of an Emperor, and intimidated by the fame of his Mogul troops, he made haste to conclude his agreement with the Shah-zada; and without informing himself of the wretched condition of those troops, or of the characters of their Commanders, he went to see the Prince; but it was to repent himself immediately, as we shall soon see hereafter. This resolution having taken possession of his mind, he sent for me, and going into a private closet, he desired me to repair to the Western army, and to endeavour by the mediation of my father, to gain the mind of the Prince, and to open a door for some terms of agreement; (and doubtless he had already sent another person to Mahmed-c8li-qhan on a similar errand, of which, however, I knew nothing, but by conjecture). He recommended to me not to disclose this desire of his to Radja M8rly-dur, or to any other person whatsoever; and he added to the injunction a very respectful message to my father, “where putting me in mind, at the same time, how he had renewed his acquaintance with his family, by the late services he had rendered me, he supplicated my father’s favourable interference in the consecution of his wish.” He was yet speaking, when Mustepha-c8li-qhan, brother to Mirza-iredj-qhan, father-in-law to Seradj-ed-döula, suddenly made his appearance. As he had had heretofore full liberty to enter, without being either stopped or introduced; and people even, after that Prince’s death, did not choose to make any alteration in their behaviour to him; he was not stopped by any mace-bearers, but went on through all the apartments, until he found the Radja and me in a close conversation by ourselves. He at once guessed what might be the subject of it; and the Radja unwilling to disoblige him, and thereby to expose his secret, took at once the party of disclosing the whole matter, and of associating him to me, in the negotiation. Turning therefore, towards me, “sir,” said he, “you shall explain all those matters to the Lord-qhan; but take care to keep clear of the encampment of Radja M8rly-dur, which is the foremost of all on your way. Take to the road of Baky-p8r.” Mustepha-c8li-qhan, after receiving this commission, came out with me to my tent, spoke much of his skill in politics, and talked strongly of the improbability of any army being likely to come from Bengal, as well as of the concourse of people that flocked from all parts to the Shah-zada’s quarters. He said all that, in hopes of my reporting his opinion to the Prince; and he even made it a request. A little after, there arrived a small sum from Ram-naráin, for the charges of my journey. It was brought by a trusty man of his.

My voyage being now determined, I wrote a note to my two younger brothers, and sent notice of it to my mother. Both my brothers availed themselves of that opportunity to kiss their father’s feet; and came to me, desiring to be of the voyage. I consented; we took, at first, to the road of Baky-p8r; but struck, afterwards, into that which led to the Prince’s camp. In the way, we met numbers of harcarahs and messengers, that carried to town hourly intelligence of the Shah-zada’s motions. Being The author on an embassy to the Shah-zada, or Imperial Prince. arrived about Arvel, I descried a man on an elephant, with a retinue of an hundred horses; it was Medar-ed-döula, who was going from the Shah-zada on an embassy to Ram-naráin. I could not help being amazed to see that, with such a man in camp as my father, who was well known in the province, and universally respected, they should pitch upon a stranger for such a message. One of the troopers having asked of my people who I was, and whither I was going; these answered by mentioning the poor man’s name, as well as that of my brother’s, to which they added that of my father’s. A moment after, a messenger came up from Medar-ed-döula, with his compliments, and some enquiries about my welfare and health; to which civility I made a suitable return; and then we advanced to Shimshir-nagar. There I was surprised to hear, that Naky-aaly-qhan, my other brother, had gone to meet my glorious father, upon that nobleman’s request; and I could not help lamenting, that he had made himself obnoxious to the Navvab of Bengal, by such a hasty step. About two hours before sunset, we descried from afar the Shah-zada’s army, which covered a plain that extended eastward of Da8d-nagar; but it was two hours after sunset, before we had the honour of kissing the paternal threshold.

A number of questions were exchanged between us, and this took up a deal of time. It soon appeared that His Highness, our father, a nobleman naturally haughty, and accustomed to command, had already declined behaving to Mahmed-c8li-qhan with that deference and that obsequiousness to which Medar-ed-döula and Munnir-ed-döula had soon submitted; and he had therefore become a stranger to all transactions. And, indeed, how could it be otherwise, whilst that General was the soul of the army, and governed absolutely the Prince and his whole Court? Mahmed-c8li-qhan had been the contriver of all this expedition —he was the soul of it; and the Prince, as well as every one of his people, were depending upon him for their very daily food, as well as for their hopes of victory and conquest. Surprised at such a state of things, and at a conduct so distant from the rules of prudence, I took the liberty to observe to His Highness, my father, “That if such was the state of things, he had come so far only to see a very unpleasant reserve in the leading persons of the Court; and a series of events, that might end in undoing our welfare, and in producing the confiscation of our landed estate, which last we had not been able to obtain without much trouble and much good luck.” I asked “What could be then the advantage of such a long journey, after such a length of time? And since His Highness had retired from the helm, and affairs had fallen into the hands of people without brains and without experience, it was to be feared lest the expedition should not end so well as might be wished.” These indirect strictures did not please His Highness, and he answered in a manner which discovered his secret displeasure at what I had taken the liberty to hint; nevertheless it appeared, that “he was convinced of the truth of my observation, as well as affected by his own situation; but that now that he had embarked in the undertaking, it was too late to recede; nor could that be done at all, without a proper opportunity; nor could it be expected, that Mahmed-c8li-qhan would choose to submit to his directions and advice.” Such was the purport of his answer; but what looks very curious is, that as the Prince was exceedingly light-headed, and often guilty of unaccountable proceediṅgs, every proceeding of his that did not please Mahmed-c8li-qhan, never failed to be charged to my illustrious father’s account, and to that of those that were of his party. In a couple days after this interview, my forgiven father took me in his company, and went with Munnir-ed-döula to see Mahmed-c8li-qhan; and as this General chanced to glance at some matters of discontent that affected his mind, he was answered in so proper a manner, and with such suitable excuses, that he seemed satisfied on that subject; but, however, he did not seem to relish my entering into a negotiation with him, as it would have been highly improper to exclude at that particular juncture the persons which had hitherto been employed in negotiating with Ram-naráin; and still more so, to change them for others, especially at a time when Mirza-issac, the Cashmirian, (styled Mir-c8li-qhan) by whose means the negotiation had been carried on, had much power over the General’s mind, who trusted altogether to his own abilities and penetration. However, the negotiation did not end well; and whether by the negotiator’s supineness, or by his master’s reposing, through ignorance and inexperience, an implicit confidence in his agent, Mahmed-c8li-qhan came at last to lose his pains, his dominions and his life.

The reader, probably, will not find fault with our giving him some detail on that subject. Radja Ram-naráin having, as we have said, taken fright at the very name of Emperor, and at the fame of his troops, quitted the garden where he had encamped in the middle of his way, and retired within the city walls; where he applied himself to every measure that could strengthen the towers, and repair the whole extent of their circuit; appointing those Commanders, which he chiefly trusted, to the guard of the most exposed parts; and he was hardly seated, when hearing that Medar-ed-döula and Mirza-issac were approaching, as deputies from Mahmed-c8li-qhan, he sent to desire them to alight at a lodging which had been prepared for their reception; it was without the gates of the city, and at a distance from even the suburbs. From thence they received leave to come to see him; and they were admitted within the gates, with a small number of menial servants, and three or four of their friends on horseback. The Embassadors, after passing many encomiums upon him, opened the subject of their commissions, and held out the advantages that would accrue to him by attaching himself to the Shah-zada and to his General, to whom both they proposed his paying a visit. This overture could not fail to have its effect; and as Ram-naráin, already overcome by his fears, had resolved to come to some terms, it was soon agreed, that he would wait upon them, and submit to their dominion, under condition that his life, fortune and Government would be held sacred and inviolable. But before he should perform his part of the agreement, he requested a paper written and sealed by Mahmed-c8li-qhan, as well as signed by the principal officers of his army, as guarantees to the treaty. The Embassadors upon this, returned to camp, and brought back the papers under Mahmed-c8li-qhan’s hand and seal, and under the guarantee of his principal Commanders. Ram-naráin being now made easy, and no intelligence coming yet of any troops being on their march from Bengal, he resolved to make a visit to Mahmed-c8li-qhan, as a preparatory step, to his kissing the footstool of the Imperial throne. In an hour, which his astrologers pronounced to be favourable, Faithless proposal made by our author, rejected with indignation by his father, and by the General, and the whole army. he set out for the camp in company with the Embassadors, and the persons sent by Mahmed-c8li-qhan to meet him; and he landed in that General’s tent, pitched on the plain of P8lvary. The Shah-zada hearing of his coming, prepared by Mahmed-c8li-qhan’s advice, a tent of as much magnificence, as his circumstances could afford; and he placed a throne at the upper end of it, where he took up his seat, having on both sides of him, two rows of his Generals and Grandees standing, and all richly apparelled. It may be worthwhile to observe, that the day before Ram-naráin’s arrival, I happened to be with my father, and to say, that the Radja was extremely shrewd and cunning; and, “that as he had submitted to come so far, merely on the report of the Imperial power, and on the fame of Ab8l-mans8r-qhan’s troops, it was probable, that after having got a view of the weakness and misery under which they laboured in camp, he might repent of his submission so far, as to never return to camp, should he once get within the city again. That therefore, as he was forthcoming, and such a step of his ought to be deemed a most lucky event, he ought to be prevented from getting out of their power.” This speech of mine had a very bad effect. The old nobleman, who had no influence himself, seemed displeased with this advice, and he answered, “that to this day the house of Timur had never been faithless to any one.” I replied, “that I proposed no treason, neither; but only thought it incumbent upon him to stand to the terms of the treaty concluded, and therefore very proper to keep the Radja in camp, until the General should enter into the city in his company; a step which might inform the world that he had really submitted and joined you; and which would likewise render the Bengal army more cautious of advancing to the assistance of a man that had already surrendered.” To all this he answered, that Mahmed-c8li-qhan was the master. On this answer, “I proposed that he should impart the advice to that General.” He replied, that as the General never asked any advice of him, so he had not the least inclination to obtrude any upon him. At these words I lost my temper, and could not help saying, that, “if such was the case, then honour and character would suffer, and be gone; nor would they leave behind in their stead, anything but repentance. Since your Highness,” added I, “would not choose to be hearty in this affair, you ought to have taken no share in it at all.” To all this he answered by some angry words, and I remained silent. The next morning being the day appointed for Ram-naráin’s rendering his homage to the Prince, I went in my father’s company to the hall of Imperial audience, and had a full view of the whole ceremony. At last news came that the Radja was arrived, and in a private conference with Mahmed-c8li-qhan; at the conclusion of which, he would be conducted to the presence by that General himself. This intelligence put me upon proposing my advice to Munnir-ed-döula, and to some others. But every one excused himself upon his want of influence. Whilst I was speaking, Mahmed-c8li-qhan himself was descried, walking slowly with the Radja at his side. He left him at the outer door, and having advanced forwards, and made a profound bow, he took his post as Vezir, at the Prince’s left hand;^\(167\) after him stood Byram-qhan, Medar-ed-döula, and Yahia-qhan, with a few other noblemen that had come with the Vezir. My father in his right of Paymaster-General, stood at the Prince’s right hand, and immediately after him stood Munnir-ed-döula, then myself; next to me a number of noblemen and Generals of the Prince’s Court. The General on getting in his place, commenced mentioning Radja Ram-naráin, and making his eulogium. “He is” said he, “a Gentoo very intelligent, and of a conciliating mind. He speaks Persian grammatically, and, there appears so much sense and wisdom in everything he says, that I have made him my Divan, and my Deputy at Ilah-abad.” The Prince, whether from having heard of my proposal, or from his own good sense, answered in these very words: As you have been so very little time together, how does it happen that he is become your trusty man at once? On this Medar-ed-döula answered, by passing a general encomium upon the Radja’s fidelity, and upon his attachment and zeal to the Imperial service. At these words Mirza-issac, intent on cutting some figure at any rate; broke forth and enumerated anew all his good qualities; and he went so far as to pledge himself for his fidelity and his submission to the Imperial pleasure. These noble persons, gained by two or three thousand rupees spread amongst them with some other presents, had lent a willing ear to the Radja’s ambiguous promises, and to his general professions, and of course, were now unanimous and profuse in his encomiums. This was very natural; but what could be the reason why neither the Prince, nor the General, nor any one well-wisher to their cause, had ever thought of putting this plain question to the Cashmirian? Suppose that the Radja, after returning into his fortress, should refuse to come out again, (as in fact he did) you that pledge yourself for the man’s fidelity and submission, how shall you make him perform his promise, or bring him out again? This man has been faithless to his master; and you, a Cashmirian, pretend to pledge yourself for his zeal and attachment!

Whilst the envoys were passing encomiums on Ram-naráin, he was already come into the presence, where having been made to bow in a manner which he had never seen in his life, he advanced with limbs trembling, and lips dried up by fear, near to the throne, where Medar-ed-döulah laying hold of his hand, which was full of Eshruffies, made the Shah-zada accept his nuzer and his homage. Immediately after the General mentioned the Radja’s zeal and submission, and supplicated that a qhylaat might be put upon him. The Prince complied with the request; and the Vezir having carried Ram-naráin into an adjoining tent, put the dress of honour upon him, and adorned his head with a circlet, and an aigrett, remarkable by Phœnix’s feathers;^\(168\) such as is worn by the Imperial Princes. Radja M8rly-dur having refused to be of the party, only two persons more received a qhylaat; and it was Ahmed-qhan-coréishy, and Mustepha-c8ly-qhan, who were both with the Radja, and had bowed to the Prince. Being all dressed in that manner, they all returned to the presence; but the Radja, who had always acted as a master, and who had never been subject to any constraint, was confounded at the respectful posture he was obliged to take, and at the repeated bows he was directed to make, at every word spoke to him—he was overcome with heat and fatigue, and quite astonished at what he beheld. However, as soon as he had returned to himself, and found time to breathe freely, and to recover from his fatigue and surprise, he doubtless reflected in his mind, on that air of wretchedness and misery that pierced through all the flimsy gaudiness which was intended to disguise the Prince’s condition, and that of his famished courtiers. The misery of what was styled the Imperial army, struck his senses forcibly; and he repented heartily of his coming. It is true, he did not utter a word of all that; but I comprehended very well his sense of it, from his humbled looks, the colour of his complexion, and from the whole cast of his features; he wished himself gone, and out of the clutches of those famished vultures. A moment after, the General took his leave, and carried the Radja to the head-quarters, from whence, he had the folly to let such a game escape out of his paws, and to dismiss the man with all the ease imaginable. He had been lodged in a tent apart, but close to that of Mahmed-c8ly-qhan’s; and he had hardly commenced to breathe freely, when Mirza-m8suvi, one of those who had been dispatched in company with Medar-ed-döulah, to bring him from the city, was sent to him with a message in these words:—The Government of Azim-abad has been bestowed on the man you know, (meaning Mirza-hassen, younger brother to Mahmed-c8ly-qhan), and you have been yourself appointed Divan to both the Governments of Azim-abad and Ilah-abad; for which I wish you joy. This particular has been affirmed by persons of great credit; who add, that Mirza-issac, who happened to come in at that particular moment, and to be joined to Mirza-m8suvi in the same commission, could not help expressing his surprise at the numerous improprieties of the message. Both the envoys excused themselves, and respectfully represented, “that such a message was not yet of season; and that they were certain it would never produce any good at all.” But these objections having answered no other purpose than that of putting the General in a passion, he sent one of his guards to bring the Radja; and on his coming in, he informed him of the dispositions that had been made. The man very wisely inclined his head in token of consent, congratulated the new Governor on his promotion, asked his protection, and then took his leave and went to his tent. In the evening he sent a trusty man (it was Mahmed-afac, the cutwal of Azim-abad) to inform the General, he was going to town to refresh himself. The General answered: “You may; I wish you a good journey.” At these words, some persons present repeated to him the advice I had given; but he heard it with detestation, and said, that it was downright treason; nor was any such matter stipulated in the treaty. They answered, “that they proposed no harm at all; but that it was not stipulated neither, that he should return to his castle.” At these words, the General’s indignation rose to a height; he refused to listen to any thing more on that subject, and added this remark: Let him return to his castle, as much as he pleases. Where is the ??aring enough to stand the brunt of my unsheathed sabre?

On the Radja’s coming out of the tent, a person, upon an elephant, received him into the chair, by the General’s directions, and he offered to carry him to the city. The Radja consented; but after having gone a few hundred paces with him, he excused himself on his being, as a Gentoo, forbidden drinking water in the same place with a Mussulman; and calling for another elephant of his own, he got on his back, and drank water; and then pushed forwards with all the speed which fear and anxiety could give him.

The first words he uttered, on coming within the city, was an order to the garrison to stand to their arms, and to man the ramparts, the towers and the gates; and it was in this manner that an affair concluded for Mahmed-c8li-qhan, and that lay at his feet, was suffered to escape out of his hands. That General, proud of his prowess, and full of his own mind, passed his days, as well as nights, in amusing himself with the performances of a number of dance-women, with whom he was plunging headlong in all kinds of pleasures, fully persuaded all this while, that the Radja was his servant, and would never prove refractory. Impressed with this notion, he was every day sending some new order to his new subject, with which the other complied in some shape or other.—These words were always carried by either Mirza-issac, or by mace-bearers, who talked high, but who were suffered to talk, the Governor being anxious only to hear of the Bengal army; and matters remained on that footing, until the sun, getting in the sign of Aries,^\(169\) the new year’s day drew near; and people, anxious to put their predictions to the test, were waiting to see whether Ram-naráin would come out or not, to present the nuzurs and offerings customary on that day. If he should come, then fortune had been more favourable to Mahmed-c8li-qhan than he had deserved; if he should not, then all that had been fancied and schemed by that General, was nothing but whim and dream. At last the new year’s day came, and then Ram-naráin sent to both the Prince and General the number of eshruffies usual on that day, together with a vast quantity of eggs, plain, red and painted; as well as a number of trays full of several kinds of sweetmeats and confectionery, made lozenge ways, and covered with gold and silver leaf; but he did not move from his lodgings. He excused himself at the same time on his being entirely taken up with executing the orders sent him; and he likewise wrote letters of excuse to the principal Grandees; so that it became ascertained now, that he would come no more. This was the general opinion, excepted, however, that of the senseless Mahmed-c8li-qhan, who, trusting to his own idea of the matter, continued to believe him as much his servant as ever.

The Prince and his Vezir having spent much time in celebrating the new year’s day, and in enjoying to satiety every kind of pleasure, which fine women could afford by their voices and dances, they came at last to remember of politics; and it was resolved that the army should move from that spot, and encamp on the other side of the city, in that part which looks eastwards to Bengal. But as the highroad goes through the main street, and through several markets of it, Ram-naráin sent word to camp, “that the Imperial army, consisting mostly of Moguls, a sort of people from which the inhabitants were particularly afraid, it was apprehended, that if they came to pass through the city with those swarms of plunderers that always followed armies, many disorders and violences might take place, which might induce the gentlemen of the city to take arms in their own defence, and would give occasion to much quarrelling and much bloodshed in the very heart of Azim-abad; that he hoped, therefore, it would be found convenient and proper to send the pioneers of the army to make a road southward of the city, on the skirts of a lake now dried up, along which the artillery, and carriages of the army would roll with more facility, as they would be assisted by the city pioneers, which were no less his servants, than those of the army; and that once the road made, he conceived that the General himself would find it more commodious for going to encamp at Djaafer-qhan’s seat, which was eastward of the city.” An expedient so artfully proposed could not fail of being adopted by Mahmed-c8li-qhan, who ordered the army to march that way, firmly persuaded still that Ram-naráin was his servant, and a man incapable of entertaining thoughts of resistance or independence. Some days were spent in the encampment; and every day used to produce messages, with new orders about sending the papers relative to the income and expenditure of the province; and every day the messengers and mace-bearers assumed a higher tone of voice, and exercised authority wherever they went. All that was borne with calm and patience by the Radja who submitted to every thing, and endeavoured by every means in his power to keep the General in good humour. At last news came to the Radja, that Miren, eldest son, as well as deputy of Mir-djaafer-qhan, had set out of M8rsh8d-abad with the tried in battle,^\(170\) and his English. This chanced to be at the very time when Mahmed-c8li-qhan’s mace-bearers and messengers, presuming on their master’s power, had exceeded all bounds in their threats and violences; insomuch, that both M8rly-dur and Ram-naráin had lost all patience. The latter still intended to go on with dissembling, and with a submissive behaviour, until Miren and the Colonel should be near enough to administer corporal chastisement to that senseless General, as well as to his insolent troops, without his being at any trouble for it himself. But such was the overbearing and outrageous behaviour of the mace-bearers, that they disturbed this arrangement. M8rly-dur himself had lost all patience; and he was anxious to re-establish his character, by throwing away the mask at once, and fighting the enemy for a few days; but the Radja prevailed upon him to keep his temper, and to wait a few days more, after having waited so long; and he added, that as soon as the English should make their appearance, it would be then time to cudgel these insolent mace-bearers into better manners, and to drive them totally away. It is a common adage, that many a fool will sometimes act like a wiseman; but Mahmed-c8li-qhan was none of those. His conduct was a continual scene of ignorance and folly; nor was it but after an immense deal of misery and trouble, that he found out his having been mistaken. Prepetually despising any opinion, not his own, he rendered useless, and of no avail, that very small stock of wisdom that might be in his camp; and he went bluntly on with trusting none but his own insufficient genius. Matters came to such a pass at last, that nothing remained to him, but to bite his own hands out of despair; and this is what we shall explain briefly.

Radja Ram-naráin having kept the mask on, and put up with the insolencies and extortions of the mace-beares, until his time was arrived, at last drove away those men, and made use of their ministry to ask Mahmed-c8li-qhan, “What he meant by endlessly sending his disorderly servants with haughty messages, about the accounts of Azim-abad, and the expenditure of the public money?” I owed you, added he, as to my superior, a visit and a present, and that ceremony I have gone through. But that is all; for I acknowledge no master, but the Nazem of Bengal; and if you are displeased with this message, take your party by all means. This message awakened Mahmed-c8li-qhan from his lethargy. He fell into a passion, exhaled his anger alternately in a abusive language, and in high-flown threats, and at last he swore that to-morrow he would unkennel from his hole, that man who was so daring as to talk with a tone of independence with him. At the same time he sent word to the Prince, that to-morrow he would make an attack upon the place; requesting that the troops of His Majesty might assist in punishing that deceitful, faithless man. Accordingly the Prince sent for my father, and directed him to be ready at day-break, with all the troops and Commanders in his service, in order to attend Mahmed-c8ly-qhan, whom he was to obey in whatever he should command. On hearing this order, Yahya-qhan, who was cousin-german, as well as son-in-law, to the Vezir Camer-eddin-qhan, got up directly, and with a view to shew his bravery and zeal, as he thought, but, in fact, only his ignorance and impudence, he mounted his horse, and having assembled his people, he advanced with them close to Haider-nevaz-qhan’s seat, where my father was encamped. There he kept his people under arms the whole night, and threw up what he thought an intrenchment, for his protection; without it once coming into his head, that such a work, in the middle of an encampment, and at such a distance from the walls, would answer no other purpose than that of tiring his people, spending his money uselessly, and betraying his ignorance. At day-break my father, at the head of the Generals and Grandees of the Prince’s Court, mounted; and all, with their soldiers, ranged themselves before their Lord’s tent, as did Mahmed-c8li-qhan’s Commanders and men, before that General’s quarters; and I, the poor man, was in my father’s company. They all received orders to prepare for an attack, and were dismissed accordingly. Amongst the Commanders of Mahmed-c8li-qhan’s troops, was one Mir-hossëin-qhan, a man who had so good an opinion of himself, as to think he was the principal Commander, and also the bravest soldier in the army. This man set out with his own men, and took post at Ram-naráin’s seat, over against the little gate, or wicket of the city. Every one in the same manner sought out some spot which he thought would answer his purpose. My father with both his old soldiers, and his new levies, took post in the plain over against the horse-market, and the tower opposite to it; and as most of the Prince’s Commanders had been formerly in my father’s service, or were otherwise attached to him, they strove to be in his company, and wished to distinguish themselves under his eyes.

At this very moment, and whilst my father was advancing to the attack, his younger brother, Abdol-vehhab-qhan, who was of the same age and temper of mind with me, the poor man, and who had for me, his idiot nephew, the utmost kindness, made at once his appearance. This nobleman, after having kissed his elder brother’s stirrup, said that he had brought his family with him, and landed them at the garden or seat of Lon-golah, close to the mausoleum of their forgiven father, where he wanted to plant a standard, which he requested from my father, as a safeguard for his family and baggage. As it appeared that there would be an attack, and he was apprehensive lest his family should suffer by the garrison’s making a sally, the standard was granted; but as I had by no means any confidence in it, I requested that his family should be brought directly to the place where we were, as being more to be depended upon, than any standard whatever. My advice was not attended to. He took the standard-bearer with him, placed him at the door of the garden, took leave of his family, and came back to the field of battle, being unwilling, said he, to part company with his good brother and good nephew in a day of battle. That nobleman had come from Bagal-p8r, notwithstanding all the representations of Alla-c8li-qhan’s sons, with whom he lived, and who objected, but in vain, to the journey he intended. These representations did not affect him; for so soon as he came to hear that his elder brother cut such a conspicuous figure in the Prince’s army, and Court, he quitted his place of residence, and setting out with his consort, family, children, and dependants; and with whatever savings he had been able to set by these many years, he came to render his brother a visit. A moment after, a ball of cannon came amongst us from the city walls; and, as if this had been only a signal, the cannon commenced firing everywhere against those parts where they could descry bodies of our troops. So that balls in plenty went over our heads, and spread in Ram-naráin’s seat, which was near the city-walls, and over against the small gate called the Ranny’s wicket, where Mir-husséin-qhan had taken his station, in expectation of an assault. By this time the fire of cannon and musquetry was increasing on both sides; and it appeared that ours was somewhat superior. Mahmed-c8li-qhan himself, mounted on an elephant, and surrounded by a great number of men, came amongst us. This was over against the horse-market-tower, where commanded M8rly-dur. This man, on observing an uncommon throng of men against that part, concluded that Mahmed-c8li-qhan himself must be there, or possibly some other principal Commander; and accordingly he exhorted the gunner to fire amongst that multitude, and if possible, to hit the man on the elephant. The gunner did as he was bid, and sent his balls in plenty, killing people at the right and left of Mahmed-c8li-qhan, over whose head some balls passed every moment. One of these passed a very little way above mine, and furrowed the ground for some time. Such an unprofitable bravery being not of my liking, I could not help saying something of it to my father, who was in his palenkin at a small distance from Mahmed-c8li-qhan. “My Lord,” said I, “what advantage are we likely to reap by standing like so many marks against these cannon-balls of the enemy’s?” To this he answered coldly by these words: You know that I meddle with nothing. “It may be so,” replied I; “but then the matter must be mentioned to the General of the army; and it must be represented to him, that if an assault is intended, it would answer no purpose at all to stand there mounted on an elephant, and to offer so fair a mark to every cannon-ball from the rampart. I added, that should his amhary chance to be hit, such an accident would be enough to put the whole army in an uproar, and to dishearten the bravest, in which case the whole would take fright, and disperse immediately. If we intend to take the place by assault (an operation after all, which requires more vigour of mind than I see anywhere in this army), it is such a piece of work as cannot be reckoned easy; for the Governor has within the place to less than four or five thousand horse, and ten or twelve thousand musqueteers, with a large number of swivels, and a quantity of large cannon, disposed over every part of the walls. He has abundantly every thing necessary for a vigorous resistance; and in case of need, he would be supported by the whole body of the nobles and gentlemen settled within the city. But there is more than all that. Even after having got within the city, an enemy would find a resistance in every street, and would be obliged to renew the engagement; nor does it appear, that the artillery which I have seen, will ever be able to make a breach into such stout walls and ramparts. A few days ago, when a salutary advice was given, no one would hear it; and now, that all men talk of fighting, they only come to a slaughter, and to no purpose stand exposed round the walls, mounted upon their elephants, like so many marks to shoot at. One would think that the best expedient would be to avail themselves of some buildings close to the walls, in order to get over them; after which they might march under cover of houses and streets, up to Moorid-qhan’s house, which is on the water-side, and close to the citadel. Under cover of that building, and of the neighbouring ones, the troopers might alight, and stand ready for an assault against the walls of the fort, which being an old building of two hundred years standing, and entirely out of repair, so that hardly the bricks and stones can stand together, it might be brought easily down by a couple of guns properly served for one day, or even less; and as soon as such a large breach is effected, the place may be easily taken by assault, or by only ordering the musqueteers to march up. I concluded, by saying, that such a scheme was far from being impracticable; and that it was likely to be attended by success.” My father listened attentively to this advice, and he was going to impart it to Mahmed-c8li-qhan, when the latter, of his own motion, quitted the place where he was, and advanced westward. My father followed, and I went with him, towards some ruined buildings, over against the horse-market-tower; there Mahmed-c8li-qhan stopped, and making his elephant kneel, he sent for my father, whom he desired to mount on his amhary, where he commenced speaking earnestly to him. After advancing some hundred yards, my father sent for me, and I ran up thither, and made a bow to the General; on which my father said, that the Lord-Navvab wished to send me on an embassy to Ram-naráin. I expressed my readiness, but observed, that it would not be possible for me to get admittance, at a time when the Radja, shut up within the walls, was intent on his defence, and nothing came from the ramparts but bullets and balls. At these words, the General beckoned to a man on horseback, and on his coming near, he said: “This gentleman is an acquaintance of mine, and belongs to the corps of Sheh-hamid-eddin, a Commander of Ram-naráin’s; he was yesterday entertained within the walls in that Commander’s house, and he is now coming out of thence. It appears by his report, that Ram-naráin said to the above Commander, that he (Ram-naráin) had made a visit to me, had submitted to my will, and thereby incurred the resentment of the Viceroy of Bengal for ever; and that nevertheless I had attacked him, and sought his destruction, at the very time he thought that all was adjusted and settled. On these overtures,” added the General, “Hamid-eddin has thought proper to send with this gentleman a message to me, to give me notice, that if I could resolve on forgiving Ram-naráin’s behaviour, he would undertake to bring him to me again. Now I desire you to go to Ram-naráin, and to tell him from me, that if he chooses to shew himself at the gate of submission and love, we also shall forget what is past, and remain firm in our promises and agreement; as we bear him no ill will at all, and on the contrary, we are desirous to see him obedient and faithful.” To this I answered, that if all that had any foundation, how came it that Ram-naráin had not sent out a man of his own with a message? On this objection, the man on horseback answered, that the message he had brought was from him, and in consequence of his order to Sheh-hamid-eddin. On hearing which words, the General added: “No matter. Where is the inconvenience in our sending a message to the Radja? So soon as you shall be returned from the city, we shall know better what we are to think of the truth or falsehood of this piece of news.” These words imposed me silence; and finding that he was incapable of distinguishing the probable from the improbable, I said that I had no objection, and that if such was his pleasure, I would go; but that I thought the Lord-Navvab ought in the meanwhile to retire to some place, and to recall his people; this being the shortest method for silencing their fire, and for rendering the way to and from the city, as free as before; indeed, the only one that could put it in my power to find access to the Radja. I added, that on my coming back I would give an account of what I had seen and heard. The General replied, that unless the Radja ceased firing on his own side, his people could not slacken their fire. To this I answered, “That the Radja was necessitated to do as he did, as the enemies were marching up to an assault, and he had only put himself upon his defence; that should he cease firing, the besiegers would in a moment get over the walls, and master the city. How then could he cease firing? And unless firing should cease, how could I make my way good into the city? Musquet-balls and cannon-balls do not make any distinction between an enemy and an embassador.” The man on horseback, on hearing these words, said: “Let him come with me, and I will carry him thither in all safety.” With all my heart, answered I, I will go wherever he will go himself; and so saying, I took my leave. We went together for some while, when Abdol-vehhab-qhan, my uncle, out of tenderness for me, joined us by the way, and said that he would never suffer his good nephew to go alone. The man on horseback availing himself of every cover to shelter himself from the balls that flew about, went on until we arrived at Ram-naráin’s seat, which was the post which Mir-husséin-qhan, with some thousand musqueteers, had chosen for his station; and as the balls flew about like a storm of hail, it became utterly impossible to get out of the garden, or even to shew one’s head without the enclosure of it, as it was close to a tower, and there was no such thing as a shelter or a cover in the interval. There I took some repose, and getting up again, I bid the man proceed, and that I would follow. The man, astonished at the danger, excused himself, and said that we must first of all look out for our way, and then set out with it; but the balls rained in such quantities, that there was no venturing out at all. The man nonplused, wrote a note to Hamid-eddin, and prevailed upon his servant to carry it. The servant came back in a little time, and said there was no passing forwards. The man, instead of being quiet, commenced urging his servant, and at last he offered him five rupees to carry the note.—The servant, impatiented, asked, “Whether he thought money more precious than life? And since you,” said he, “that are my master, dare not venture out, how can I, who am but a servant, venture upon such an attempt? I am a man myself, and have about me some of that very flesh and that very blood, which my betters are so careful of. Poor men are just such men as the rich ones.” This dialogue diverted me a little; I was inclined to listen, but the man nonplused said, that we had better go back. I answered, as I had hitherto done, that he was my guide, and that I would follow him. The man, ashamed of himself, returned; and on our being arrived close to Mahmed-c8li-qhan, that General asked us, “What news?” I answered, “Please to ask my guide.” The General soon found out what was the matter; and the man confounded, hung his head, said not a word, and shrunk away.

As to myself, I remained on the spot, looking at what these senseless Generals, and officers were doing. In the evening I returned home, and in an hour’s time, was followed by my father. Most of the Commanders likewise returned to their quarters; but the troops remained where they were, to guard their posts, and their artillery. At night, the plunderers of both sides, availing themselves of the security in which the inhabitants of the out-houses of the city were sleeping (and these trusted entirely to the safeguard of the Prince’s presence, who, in fact, was encamped amongst them), plundered those poor people, set their houses on fire, and deprived them of their little all. In the confusion, the family and baggage of Vehhab-aaly-qhan underwent the same fate; and his lady and children found themselves in the morning without a single farthing, or a yard of cloth, or apparel. Luckily for them, that some generous officer passing by at the very nick of time, interposed timely enough to save the honour of that forlorn family, which, but for his interference, was going to be wrecked. He brought those hopeless women to camp, and having lodged them there, under some trees, he went away. All this time the unfortunate owner was searching for them throughout the whole plain, and throughout the whole camp; he spent the night in running about, and about the dawn of day, he was returning in despair, to my father’s quarters, when he unexpectedly found them under the trees that were behind his encampment. The unfortunate nobleman, without minding their being almost naked, returned thanks to God, for their having escaped with their honour. He then remembered the advice I had given him; but remembered it when it was too late.

Matters being as we have been observing, there is no wonder in my resolving to quit this camp, although indeed, on my very first casting my eyes upon these blundering Generals, and senseless politicians, I had long ago despaired of their ever being able to do any thing. At last I took my final resolution, being anxious about my own family which I had left in the city. But it chanced that my illustrious mother, with all our families, was already in camp. On the evening of the day which preceded the attack on the city walls, Her Highness, my mother, (whose shadow may long remain stretched over me!) hearing that her husband, my father, was in Mahmed-c8li-qhan’s army, had set out, with a number of ladies, our relations, each of them in a covered chair, and each with a female servant, a few clothes, and some bedding-apparel; her intention being, to pay her respects to her husband. With that view, she advanced towards the western gate, where the guards opposed her passing further; but notice of this being sent to Ram-naráin, he ordered that no one should presume to molest her, or her retinue; and this was an important service which he rendered our family; for had Miren, on his arrival at Azim-abad, found them within the city, God knows what merciless usage he would have offered them. God Almighty be thanked for this signal proof of his providence.

Sometime after, Mahmed-c8li-qhan having found his present encampment incommodious, quitted Djaafer-qhan’s garden, and went to encamp southward of the city, in a part which the lake had left dry, and which was out of the reach of the enemy’s fire. As for me, having tarried two or three days more in camp to examine a little more into the perverse intentions, and the blundering schemes of those ignorant Generals and famished Grandees, with which it swarmed, I became tired of my situation; and could not help expressing my uneasiness to my forgiven father. “I observed, that the number of unfortunate objects that were now present with him, were not capable of following on foot; that such a city was not likely to be taken, by such an army, in many months to come; that meanwhile the army from Bengal, with the English at their head, would soon arrive; and that Mahmed-c8li-qhan would in time be tired, and in time return to his own country. So that if His Highness chose now to do something for those unfortunate objects, and to provide a retreat for them, it would be very well; else, the matter would become impossible in a few days.” At these words he assumed a peevish countenance, and he answered, that as to himself he could do nothing; and that they had better do as to them might seem best. On receiving this answer, I provided some covered coaches and carriages for them, and their little baggage, and I procured a further supply from the head cartman of Alem-gundj, one of the suburbs of the city, who was my acquaintance. With these, and a supply of chairmen, I contrived to obtain an escort from the Zemindar, Pahluvan-sing, with which I set out with my mother, my consort, and my family, together with the families of Mehdy-nessar-qhan, of Abdol-vehhab-qhan, and of my two brothers. We passed the Sohon about Col8r, and we arrived safe in that Zemindar’s country, where I took my abode for some days at Saharseram, in the habitation of Shah-kyam-eddin, grandson of Shah-cahlen, who was still living; and I was waiting the events which time might bring forth, when one day the Shah-zada and Mahmed-c8li-qhan, led by their ill fortune, made suddently their appearance at Saharseram, and afforded me again the opportunity of kissing the dust of the paternal feet. This strange event was brought about in the following manner:—

After my departure from the army, Mahmed-c8li-qhan, with the Shah-zada’s Generals, made many efforts to take the city. He advanced his trenches very near the foot of the wall, and lost a great number of men in killed and wounded; but as all these pains and all this trouble were taken with no knowledge, and no intelligence at all, they produced no advantage; and they only served to betray much ignorance and incapacity. Mahmed-c8li-qhan, who had directed his efforts against the tower of Mehdy-gundj, ordered his pioneers to sap the bottom of the wall. It was on the ninth day of the siege, and five men ventured to execute his orders. But the wall from above, having given way, smothered three or four of them; and the fifth only escaped. The assault was given immediately. The besieged, without being dismayed, were throwing on the assaulters such quantities of powder-bags and other fires, and the neighbouring tower sent such a shower of bullets amongst them, that numbers that had got on the third part of the height of the breach, as well as some that had been higher, were scorched by the powder on fire, or wounded by the bullets, and they rolled down in heaps. Great numbers besides, were slain or wounded at the foot of the breach. They say that about two hundred men, or more, lost their lives in that manner; nor could the breach be got over. At night the troops retired within their trenches; but in the morning, in consequence of some messages that passed between the Shah-zada, and Mahmed-c8li-qhan, the latter took offence; and having ordered his troops to withdraw from the foot of the wall, he talked of returning to his country. The Prince, informed that he had already sent away part of his baggage and tents, thought it expedient to pay him a visit where he made some concessions, and where he engaged him to send a contra-order to his baggage, and to attack the wall anew. But much time having been already spent in messages, before the troops could return to their posts, it became too late to recommence an attack the next morning. Therefore another assault was given, and this was supported with so much vigour, that Ram-naráin and his people, intimidated by such a perseverance, were on the point of abandoning the walls, and of flying by the opposite gate; and this was the state of things, when in the afternoon it appeared that the besiegers were retiring of their own accord.

This singular retreat was owing to two important pieces of intelligence, which Mahmed-c8li-qhan received at the same time. The first was, that the Bengal army, with the English at their elbows, was at hand. The second, that the fortress of Ilah-abad was lost for him; Shuja-ed-döula having artificiously availed himself of Mahmed-c8li-qhan’s absence, to deceive the Governor, and to take possession of that fortress. The General astonished and confounded at two such pieces of news, thought it better for him to abandon the siege, and to turn himself towards Shuja-ed-döula, in hopes of being able to impress him with some regard for those rights of consanguinity, which subsisted between them. The event proved, that he presumed too much upon such ties; and as fortune had now turned her back upon him, and the day of his death was drawing near, he did precisely what he ought never to have done. Having once resolved to return, he neglected the attack; and on the evening of that same day, he appointed the next morning for his march. He then retired to his quarters, and gave the Shah-zada notice of his intention, and of the arrival of the Bengal army with its English. The Shah-zada advised him to shew more firmness; and he repeated two or three times his entreaties and messages thereon; but with so little effect, that finding the General inflexible, he determined to retire likewise, and to seek out some asylum somewhere. In the morning, every one found out, by the total change in the disposition of the army, that they were going to decamp. In vain did Pahluvan-sing, the Zemindar, and some others attached to Mahmed-c8li-qhan, strongly reflect on the impropriety of expecting to pacify Shuja-ed-döula, and on the necessity of tarrying some days more, as whatever remained for him to do, was to be done at those foot of the walls, until some other party might be taken. These remonstrances availed nothing; and in the morning he beat the General, and prepared to return to his own country. It was at this very moment that the Fransis, M8sher Lass^\(171\) arrived in camp. This foreigner entreated him to stay a couple of days more, to see how he would manage with the walls. “He observed that this was the purpose for which he had come running, and out of breath, from Chitur-p8r; and he offered to let him do as he should think proper, as soon as that short delay should be over.” But Mahmed-c8li-qhan would hear nothing; so that M8sher Lass, amazed at this sudden disposition of Providence, resolved to return likewise; but thought it incumbent upon him to pay first a visit to the Shah-zada. The Shah-zada listened to the message, and deferred his departure accordingly, until the troops that followed M8sher Lass should come up. As soon as they arrived, M8sher Lass paid his respects to the Prince, and asked what part he intended to take? The Prince frankly acknowledged, “That hitherto he had joined Mahmed-c8li-qhan’s cause, on the hopes of finding with him, resources to support his troops and his dignity; but now that the General was bent on returning to his own country, he (the Prince) did not find in himself either those treasures, or those necessaries requisite for fighting the Bengal army; and that his circumstances being such, he was forced to retire towards Chitur-p8r, in order to wait what should happen next.” As M8sher Lass himself was settled in that country, he approved his resolution of retiring thither; but he always made it a point to precede him by some cosses. On his passing at Saharseram, I went to see that foreigner; he much complained of the Grandees of Hindostan, who by their misintelligences seemed to mind nothing but themselves, to the ruin of all the world besides; and he severely reflected on Mahmed-c8li-qhan’s precipitation, which he ascribed wholly to his ignorance and incapacity. “I have seen,” added he, “all the country from Bengal to Shah-djehan-abad, and have been able to observe nothing but the ruin of the poor, and the oppression of the lesser ones, by their rulers and superiors. And although I have proposed to some of those ignorant inconsiderate Princes, namely, to the Vezir Umad-el-mulc, and to Shuja-ed-döula, to endeavour to bring order, tranquillity and union in the empire, after which, Bengal might be easily recovered from the English; I have found attention nowhere; and nowhere did any one pay any regard to my representations; nor did any one so much as once examine the good and bad side of my proposed expedition.”

This stranger, after some conversation on the same subject, proceeded on his journey; and Mahmed-c8li-qhan, with the Shah-zada, arrived some hours after. My father was with him; but I could easily observe a great change in him. He took up his abode in the same house with me; bitterly complained of the ignorance and supineness of these two men; professed himself sick of following them; and asked me what I thought was to be done? I answered, “That it would be improper in him to return to Shah-djehan-abad, where he had every thing to fear from Umad-el-mulc’s resentment; nor was it probable, that the Shah-zada’s friendship and power would answer any purpose in protecting and bringing away his family, now forsaken in that capital. That on one hand, there was no similarity sufficient between His Highness’s character, and that of Shuja-ed-döula’s, to countenance such a step, as that of his going to take service with that Prince; and on the other, an end had been put to the connections of our families with the people of Bengal, by our having followed our father’s fortunes, and attached ourselves to the Shah-zada. So that I saw but one party left, which might possibly give umbrage to His Highness, but which required our acquiescence; and this was to attach ourselves to Pahluvan-sing, a powerful Zemindar of this country, who was in high repute in the province, in great credit with both M8rly-dur and Ram-naráin, and who, besides a good body of troops, was master of more treasures than would be imagined. That to all appearance he would find means to make an agreement with Government; but that I thought likewise, that out of a point of honour, he would so far comprehend him in the treaty, as to do nothing for himself, unless he had done something handsome for his guest. That by such a management, there was a possibility of our family’s recovering our landed estate again, upon the product of which His Highness might pass his days in peace and plenty.” My illustrious father heard attentively, but remained silent awhile, and he then said: “That he would not be much pleased, indeed, with the expedient I had proposed; but that nevertheless we ought to take it up, as we had no other at our disposal.” Upon this resolution, His Highness decamped from Saharseram, and went to pitch his tents close to those of Pahluvan-sing’s, upon the little river of Durgaoty. The Radja no sooner heard who he was, than he made him a visit, in which he behaved in the most respectful and most obliging manner, thinking it a happiness, as he expressed it, to travel in his company. He also imparted to His Highness his own scheme, which was, first, “to prevail upon the Shah-zada to return towards the east, for the purpose of fighting Miren and his English; secondly, to take M8sher Lass in his own pay, in which case he would furnish all the money necessary for assembling a powerful army, and would find means to afford to the expenses of the expedition; his sole aim being to acquire a name that might reach the latest posterity.” He added, “that he was bent on this design; had taken his chance; had submitted, beforehand, to his destiny; and would encounter whatever might happen, provided he could avenge his master’s death.” The Radja sent me several times with messages to the above purport, both to the Prince and to M8sher Lass; but as he was a Zemindar by trade, neither the Shah-zada, nor M8sher Lass, would repose any confidence on his promises. The Shah-zada at last took the party of writing to Colonel Clive. This letter was intended to give a fair colouring to his retreat, to lessen the levity and disgrace of all that undertaking, and to impress that General with some concern for the Prince’s forlorn situation. With that view he sent his Secretaries and seal to my father, with a request to draw up a minute of the intended letter. But the several minutes brought in, not proving consonant to his mind, he bid me write what I thought proper on the subject; upon which order, I took pen and wrote down what occurred to my mind. The minute having been everywhere approved, the M8nshies or Secretaries received orders to write it fair; after which my father presented it to the Prince, sealed it in his presence, and sent it to the Colonel. But as we have interrupted our history by these particulars, it is proper to put an end to the readers’ surprise and anxiety, by resuming our narrative of the consequences of Mahmed-c8li-qhan’s retreat, as well as of what relates to M8sher Lass, and to the Shah-zada’s history; we shall add, likewise, a few words about the good luck with which I saved my consort and family, from that scene of confusion and danger; and then we shall revert to the history of Bengal, and shall speak at length of Miren’s arrival with his English, and of their march towards Saharseram; our account shall be closed by saying a few words about what was the result of the friendship that had lately taken place between my father and Pahluvan-sing.

As soon as Shuja-ed-döula heard that Mahmed-c8li-qhan was returning from his infructuous expedition, he forgot at once all those ties of blood, friendship, and consanguinity, which subsisted between them; and giving way to his inhumanity, and to all the faithlessness of an unfeeling temper, he ordered his Deputy, Radja Beni-bahadyr,^\(172\) to join Radja Belvent, Zemindar of Banares, and to oppose that unfortunate man’s return. The two Radjas having joined their forces, posted themselves about two cosses below Ram-nugur, a town built by Belvent-sing, over against Banares, and where he had his palace; and after having placed their cannon and troops in such a manner, as to intercept the passage entirely, they sent a message to the Shah-zada and to M8sher Lass, to inform them that, as they had no business at all with them, they were at liberty to go whithersoever they might think proper; but that they would oppose Mahmed-c8li-qhan’s moving from his place. The Shah-zada thinking himself happy to escape unhurt from such a scene of confusion and perfidy, took M8sher Lass in his pay, and struck into the road of little Mirza-p8r; his intention being to repair to Chitur-p8r, in the Bondul-cand, where he intended to take up his residence. Mahmed-c8li-qhan remained encamped at the little town of Séyd-radja, but was so narrowly watched, that if any one from his camp presumed to part with the main for ever so little a distance, he was presently plundered by the Zemindars of Belvent-sing’s country. However, Yahia-qhan, one of his Commanders, having obtained the Shah-zada’s leave, went out and encamped at Mirzap8r with an intention to repair to Shah-djehan-abad; whilst Mahmed-c8li-qhan, with an army entangled in the net of a reverse of fortune, was losing his time and character in messages and negotiations. Most of his Commanders, who were men of valour, advised him to fight his way through the troops of the two Radjas, as the best party he could take; and indeed it was the only one advisable, the only one, at least, that would have saved his honour, and rescued his character from reproach, even on the supposition that he would have miscarried in the attempt. But the unfortunate man was confounded, and like one bewildered; and he had lost his presence of mind totally. As to myself, after having seen my father’s junction effected with Pahluvan-sing, and made my mind easy on that head, I took my consort and family, with my brother, Séyd-aaly-qhan, and lodged in the caravansera of Keremnassa, with an intention to repair to Banares; and it is at that spot that I heard that my other brother, Ghalib-aaly-qhan, was safely arrived in that city with his consort, his mother-in-law, and his whole family. I wished to join him; but there was no crossing the Ganga, the Radja Belvent having seized, and confined under his fort at Ram-nagur, all the boats in the river, whilst his people, meanwhile, were plundering and stripping, indiscriminately, every one that came from Mahmed-c8li-qhan’s army. Fain I was to return back, and to apply to Radja Pahluvan-sing for his recommendation to Radja Belvent; and this he did with the best grace in the world, requesting his friend to send an escort for my safety, to furnish me with boats, and to lodge me decently at Banares. My father was pleased to write on his side a letter to Belvent-sing, of the same purport. Having dispatched the two letters, I took some soldiers of Pahluvan-sing’s with me, and set out with my family and with Séyd-aaly-qhan, by the road of Chéinp8r, which road goes along the skirts of the mountains. Naky-aaly-qhan remained with my father. In the middle of my march, two servants of Radja Belvent’s came to me, with an order of his to all his officers, by which they were directed to watch over my person and effects, to escort me by the road, and to provide me with lodgings and provisions. The two men, moreover, had orders to attend me as my guides. Notwithstanding all those attentions, no sooner was I arrived near Mirzap8r, than I was stopped by the guards, and obliged to a second application to the Radja, who sent an officer to disengage me; this man carried me to Mirzap8r, where he made me alight in a good lodging. The next morning he furnished me with boats; so that with the favour of God, we crossed the Ganga, and arrived safe at Banares. There I passed some months in enjoying the precious honour of attending on His Holy Highness, His Highness Saint Mahmed-aaly-hezin, (whom God may station amongst the highest of his elect!) I had also the inestimable advantage of enjoying the company of my maternal uncle, Séyd-abdol-aaly-qhan, the impetuous in battles. In a few days more, another person of distinction contrived to escape out of Mahmed-c8li-qhan’s army, and arrived safe at Banares. It was Bayram-qhan, grandson to the Navvab R8h-8llah-qhan, once Paymaster-General to the Emperor Aoreng-zeb; he had already sent to that city his consort and family. A few days after my arrival at Banares, I heard that Mahmed-c8li-qhan having applied to the two Radjas for liberty to repair to Shuja-ed-döulah’s Court, with only a few servants, they had thought themselves obliged to write for it to their master, who sent his consent. On that single consent he was simple enough to cross the Ganga, with a dozen of troopers and a few servants, and to advance towards that Prince’s capital. But at the same time, the two Radjas had received an order to seize his effects, to plunder his camp, and to strip his troops, as soon as he should have proceeded on his journey. The senseless man was hardly gone these three or four days, when the two Radjas mounted, and getting into his camp, they gave the plunder of it to their troops, whilst they proceeded to seize his effects; so that there arose in camp such a scene of confusion, screams and distress, as retraced to the mind the Day of Judgment. Numbers of soldiers and officers were ill used; and every one of them lost their little all. Those only escaped the general wreck, who having acquaintances in the enemy’s army, had the good luck to retire by times thither in the night time. Numbers of others, especially of the Séyds of Barr, who formed a numerous body, threw themselves on the protection of a Séyd who had a command in Beni-bahadyr’s army; a man of honour and character, who found means to protect them. Others had in the night time escaped to his quarters, where they remained safe from those rapacious hands, or were passed unnoticed in the confusion of that day. What seems singular is, that out of so many Commanders of character, one only should have thought of putting himself on his defence; and this was Zin-el-abedin-qhan, the same who having in the sequel become Vezir to Shah-aalum, lost his life at the assault of Azim-abad; an illustrious Commander, of whom we shall speak in the sequel. He escaped with his honour and his property in consequence of his own bravery and resolution, and of the attachment which his men bore to his person. This glorious action was performed in the following manner:—

This gentleman, who was son to a General officer in the armies of Iran, and himself a man of character and valour, had, long before his taking service with Mahmed-c8li-qhan, served with distinction under Ab8l-mans8r-qhan, under whom he had enjoyed offices in most parts of the province of A8d, and was highly respected everywhere. He was of a generous temper, keeping open table, and obliging with his purse and credit, as many as applied to him; shedding over the thirsty fields of every needy suitor’s heart, the refreshing showers of his liberality, without ever making any distinction between an acquaintance or a stranger. It was enough to be in distress, in order to have a claim on his assistance. This officer finding how matters went throughout the camp, retired with a small number of men into some ruined houses, that were close to his quarters; and there having shewn himself on the top of the house, and at some crannies, he cried out, that whoever would approach him with a hostile intention, would soon find that he must be slain first, and then only stripped. Intelligence of this being carried to the two armies, some officers of Beni-bahadyr’s, who had served under him, joined some other Commanders of Radja Belvent’s, who had likewise Noble character of an officer. been obliged and relieved by his munificence; and these going in a body, represented to the two Radjas, “that the officer, who with a dozen of soldiers, had put himself upon his defence in those ruined houses, was no other than the brave Zin-el-abedin-qhan, a man of great character, and to whom every one of their servants, now present, was indebted for favours received, and for assistance most generously bestowed. They added, that several there present had likewise served under him; and that impressed with very high sentiments of respect and gratitude for his person, they supplicated for leave to go in a body, in order to bring that Commander away with all the honour and respect due to his merit; or for permission to share his fate, and to perish with him.” The two Radjas, hearing the strain of the request, and being themselves in admiration at the man’s behaviour, gave their consent, with permission to bring him under whatever conditions and stipulations he should himself desire. The officers and Commanders having received this consent, marched in a numerous body to that brave man’s quarters; and there some of the principal ones having alighted at a distance, made a profound bow, and then advanced on foot in a friendly manner. Being within hearing, they exposed their errand. The officer surprised at this unexpected turn, passed many encomiums on their generous interposition, and returned his acknowledgments to the Almighty for his signal delivery; he then mounted his horse, and followed by the companions of his fortune, he was conducted with the utmost respect to camp, where he was lodged, and treated with much regard, and from whence he, in a few days, repaired to Banares, as soon as the tumult of sack and plunder had subsided. Let men of sense and honour peruse carefully the anecdote which I have been stammering out here. Let them hang it at their ear as the most precious pearl, that it may remind them hourly of the advantages of beneficence. Let it inform them, that as that celestial qualification is at all times of so great a resource in this world, by insuring a liberal man’s peace of mind in it; so it never fails to insure his happiness in the other, by laying up for him a store of comfort and consolation. Whilst Mahmed-c8li-qhan’s troops were undergoing such a merciless stripping, he was himself under confinement at A8d. But we must now leave this event, together with its consequences, as we reserve it for Shuja-ed-döula’s particular history; for we are now to revert to that of Bengal.

As soon as Mir-djaafer-qhan (and he had no other Deputy and no other trusty General but his son) came to hear of Ram-naráin’s junction with Mahmed-c8li-qhan, and of his having acknowledged the Shah-zada, he was struck with amazement and fear; and as the English were now the only resource which remained either to the father or to the son in the world, they both wrote to Colonel Clive, whom they intreated, besought, and supplicated to come to their assistance. The Colonel objected; but at last he consented. On his arriving at the head of his troops at M8rsh8d-abad, a council was held, in which it was resolved to march immediately. It must be observed that some time was spent in overcoming that General’s reluctance; for the English, uninformed as they were of the real state of affairs in Hindostan, and unapprised of the strange cast of mind that formed so principal a feature in the character of the Grandees of that country, were impressed with awful ideas for the very name and sound of Imperial Prince; and they bore a high respect to the Imperial race. The words, throne, and hereditary right excited their respect so far, that they felt a thorough disinclination against appearing in arms in opposition to such sacred names; and so little inclined were they to entertain sentiments of enmity, that, to all appearance, they would have preferred the part of mediators, had they observed in the Prince, or in his Minister, any firmness, or capacity or concert. On receiving intelligence, therefore, of the misunion that raged amongst them, and of the wretched conduct which it occasioned, they shook off all regard for his concerns, and heartily joined their own confederates, the Navvab and his son. By this time certain advices having reached M8rsh8d-abad, of Ram-naráin’s having quitted the Prince’s party, and of his being closely besieged in Azim-abad; this intelligence engaged the father and the son to march with the Colonel to his assistance; and they set out together with a numerous army. In the way Miren, who was very much dissatisfied with that air of independence, which Qhadum-hassen-qhan had assumed at P8rania, became apprehensive, lest the man should avail himself so far of the confusion as to conceive higher designs; and he resolved to be beforehand with him, and to seize his person, if possible. With this view he encamped for some time at Pointy, which is over against P8rania; but this intention of Miren’s having gone abroad, Qhadum-hassen-qhan, who was a shrewd wary man, and who, besides, greatly suspected Miren’s sincerity, thought proper to march from P8rania with his army, artillery, and effects; and under pretence of going to join the Bengal army, he encamped at Carangolah, which is the landing place of the province of P8rania; from thence he sent to Colonel Clive, and put himself under the safeguard of the English. The Colonel interposed his good offices, advised Miren not to think of troubling the man at present, and engaged the two parties to come to a new agreement together. Qhadum-hassen-qhan being now fully confirmed in his suspicions, declined going to camp; but he offered to come to an interview in the middle of the river Ganga, where each The refractory Governor of P8rania patches up an agreement, by the interposition of the English. party should come in its own badjaraw.^\(173\) He added, that after having in this manner satisfied himself with the sincerity of Miren’s intentions, he would return to P8rania with a mind eased of its burthen, and would henceforward attend steadily to the duties of friendship and attachment. Such a treaty was by no means conformable to Miren’s mind; but it became obligatory on both parties in consequence of the interposition of a Commander of high character, who found his own advantage in it, and insisted that this was not a time to engage in new broils. The interview took place, as it had been agreed to; and a new treaty was concluded and confirmed by the Colonel’s mediation. This General having now got rid of this affair, advanced with Miren towards Azim-abad; and this intelligence having soon reached Mahmed-c8li-qhan, the latter concluded that it would not be advantageous in any shape to tarry any longer in his camp; and raising the siege, he decamped instantly. The Colonel being arrived close to Azim-abad, was met by Ram-naráin, who came out with all the officers of Government, and all the principal persons of the province and city; and although it is not known under what point of view he had the art to represent his joining the enemies of the State, yet it is certain that he was received with more regard than ever; nor did it appear that his character had anyways suffered by his late double-dealing; but what is singular is, that this same Ram-naráin, who had made use of entreaties to send me on an embassy to Mahmed-c8li-qhan, whom he would have joined infallibly himself, had he not been deterred by M8rly-dur’s representations, now made it a point to complain of me; thinking, doubtless, that so much as he might charge on my character, would go far towards clearing his own. He, therefore, made it a practice to complain of me everyday. “Gentlemen,” would he say, “strange are become the times, indeed, and strange characters do they sometimes exhibit! What wrongs had I done to Gholam-husséin-qhan, that he should have quitted my service, to go and join his father? This gentleman, after such a shifting of hands, and such a changing of sides, doubtless thinks himself a very honest man.” This was his usual language. It might have been answered to him that, “Strange men, indeed, must be the English, and strangely infatuated must they be, who after having seen him repair to their enemy, and join his party, still thought Ram-naráin their fast friend! But the matter is this, that in these days, whatever a wealthy man is pleased to do, is never imputed to guilt; and money covers every defect and every vice, nay, gives it very often the appearance of policy; but still there remains no difference on the subject betwixt the opinions of the adorers of gold, and those of the men of sense and penetration; both parties agree in distinguishing the man of merit from the man of the crowd; nor do they mistake his worth.”—But we have spoken enough of private concerns; let us revert now to the affairs of State.

Colonel Clive, after tarrying a few days in town, marched, at Ram-naráin’s request, against Radja Pahluvan-sing. But this wary man, unwilling to cope with such an adversary in the field, kept himself at the foot of the hills; and for a few days preparations were made for war and battle. At last, however, matters turned to a negotiation, and Ram-naráin having proposed to send Miren back to Azim-abad, where he might enjoy at his ease the performance of the finest dance-women, and of the best voices, he pledged himself that, provided the Colonel remained with him, he would find means to bring the Radja to reasonable terms. Miren, who wanted no better, returned to the city; and Ram-naráin, with the Colonel, having tarried a few days at Shaharseram, soon brought the Radja’s affairs to a conclusion. But what will hardly be believed of a Zemindar is, that Pahluvan-sing, instead of beginning by his own concerns, had the generosity, first of all, to bring my father’s affair upon the carpet, and to finish it to that nobleman’s satisfaction. He had the attention to stipulate, that “He should have liberty to return to his estate; that his Djaghiry lands should be restored to him; and that no injury should be offered him on account of the past.” And God Almighty be thanked, that matters turned out precisely as I had imagined!

About the same time the Shah-zada’s letters came to hand; it produced its full effect, and the Colonel seemed pleased with both its style and purport. Ram-naráin himself, who was a man of letters, greatly admired the energy and dignity of its language; and the English, having once inclined to a sense of compassion for the Prince, paid many encomiums to the writer. As I chanced sometime after to commence an acquaintance with those gentlemen, I heard them speak so much in praise of the Secretary, who had penned that letter, that I could not help acknowledging myself to be the pen-man whom they so much approved; and this produced a new flow of encomiums. Some years after, I heard it praised by the Hope of the State, the valorous Mr. Hushtin, the daring in war,^\(174\) who had knowledge enough to distinguish the poor man’s productions from ordinary ones, and condescendence enough to honour them with his praise. This letter, I say, having greatly affected the Colonel, he not only answered it in the most respectful manner, but he added thereto, some thousand eshruffies by way of homage. As to my forgiven father, as soon as he had obtained possession of his estate, he repaired thither to lead a life of ease and dignity; and the Radja Pahluvan-sing returned to his zemindary, where he applied himself to every art that could restore husbandry, and industry in his country. This campaign having ended so happily, Ram-naráin returned with the Colonel to Azim-abad, where he made it his affair to pay his court assiduously to Miren.

This young Prince who had the good luck to see this expedition finished with so much ease, resolved to return to Bengal. But, first of all, he determined to rid himself of Assalut-qhan and Dilir-qhan, as well as of the other sons of Umer-qhan, whom he could not drive away openly, as they had been so long attached to his family, and whom he did not love, as they were of a daringness which he dreaded. His father, at his departure, had recommended to him to rid himself of those officers; but in such a manner as should not disoblige them, as they were men, who in such a case, would make nothing of murdering both the father and son, happen what it would. Miren, therefore, thought it expedient to dissemble, and to take those officers with him in his expedition against the Shah-zada. What is strange, and yet exactly true, is, that those very men whom he wanted absolutely to be rid of, were so far from having harboured at any time, any ill design against either the son or the father, that they had all along approved themselves Mir-djaafer-qhan’s supporters and zealous friends; and that too so early as the very beginning of his fortune under Aaly-verdy-qhan; and their attachment, as well as that of Umer-qhan, their father, was so strong, that Seradj-ed-döula had taken umbrage at it, and had dismissed them from his service; insomuch, that for a year together, that is, so long as that Prince sat upon the throne, they had miserably lived at Azim-abad, without receiving any satisfaction about those considerable arrears due to them from the treasury. Three years after, as I chanced to repair to the Shah-zada’s army, where I was necessitated to join his cause, in the manner already mentioned, I recollected Dilir-qhan’s unhappy situation, and I wrote him a letter to recommend to him my consort, and my family, left at Azim-abad; and also to invite him over to the Shah-zada’s service; for we had been intimate friends together, and in pursuance of a custom in Hindia, we had exchanged turbans. He answered me, “That my consort and his head must stand or fall together, and that I might make myself easy on that subject; but that as to passing into the Shah-zada’s service, he was glad to inform me that, if even Mir-djaafer-qhan should be reduced to his last soldier in the world, that last soldier would be himself.” He added these words: Pray, my friend, put up your prayers to Heaven, that to whomsoever I may be once attached, to him I may remain faithful for ever. Miren, who was of himself too infidious in his temper to need the caution given him by his father, kept fair with Dilir-qhan, until Ram-naráin’s return, and he thereby put him off his guard. For Ram-naráin’s return was the time fixed for paying the arrears due to that Commander; and as soon as he saw him arrived, Miren resolved to return to M8rsh8d-abad; but he recommended to the Governor to put trusty guards on the outside of the Western gate of the city, and a body of English Talingas within, with orders to hinder Dilir-qhan, or his people, from getting admittance. At the same time he embarked in his boats, and went thirty or forty cosses down the river; after which he continued his route by land. Dilir-qhan finding himself deceived, was at a loss what to do, especially as Ram-naráin took care to exculpate himself, by informing him that he had no orders about his arrears, and that it was better for him to quit the city, and to abstain from coming within the walls. Dilir-qhan himself, sensible that all was lost, quitted the environs of Azim-abad, and with his friends and soldiers, he went towards Ticary, where he was entertained in the service of the two Zemindars, Fateh-sing and Buniad-sing, who were sons to Radja Sunder-sing, and who gave him a pension, upon which he made a shift to subsist himself, and his men. He was so much esteemed, that the two Radjas thought themselves very much honoured by affording shelter to a Commander of that character. Some time after, Fateh-sing repaired to M8rsh8d-abad to strengthen himself in his zemindary; but his concerns were little minded, as Miren spent his time in all kinds of pleasures at M8rsh8d-abad, whilst Ram-naráin did the same at Azim-abad.

It must be observed that Mir-djaafer-qhan had advanced as far as Radj-mahl to support his son; but that hearing by the way of the prosperous turn of his affairs, he had returned full of joy to his capital, where he availed himself of that accession of authority, which prosperity confers, to get rid of a man whom he had this longwhile in his eye; this was Sadacat-mahmed-qhan, son to Aga-bakyr, Zemindar of Dacca, of which latter we have made some mention, in our account of Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, and of his deputy, Husséin-c8li-qhan, who was, properly speaking, Governor of the province of Djehanghir-nugur-dacca. The Navvab who had conceived some unjust suspicions against this Sadacat-mahmed-qhan, had him blown off at a gun; an atrocious action, by which he laid up for himself a store of merits in the next world.

Whilst Dilir-qhan lived at Ticary, Cam-car-qhan, Zemindar of Narhut-semái, incensed at the usage he had met with from Mir-djaafer-qhan, who on Ram-naráin’s persuasion had put him under confinement, resolved to be revenged; and joining his cause to that of Dilir-qhan’s, they both wrote to the Shah-zada, to invite him to a junction with them, under assurances of their being ready to join him. The forlorn Prince, who had neither house nor home of his own, wanted no better; and assembling again his friends and soldiers, he quitted Chitur-p8r, and advanced towards Azim-abad. As to myself, I quitted Banares, and came to my forgiven father on his estate, where, for a variety of reasons, I did not think proper to remain, but proceeded to Ticary upon some business, where I was entertained by Dilir-qhan in his house. However, as I soon came to find out that he had written letters to the Shah-zada, I quitted Ticary, sensible that no good could result from an attachment to that Prince. Dilir-qhan pressed me to stay, and to join him; I objected to that party, shewed its disadvantages, and took my leave. Dilir-qhan was unwilling to part with me; but his discourses availing nothing, he made me accept such a sum of money for the charges of my return, as he could afford, and I repaired to Bahar, where Séyd-aaly-qhan, my youngest brother, had taken up his residence some months before; and I was yet in that town, when news came that the Shah-zada was approaching; and that Cam-car-qhan would be soon in the neighbourhood of Bahar with his troops. As by tarrying in that town I brought on myself the necessity of waiting on the Shah-zada, and of feeding again upon that same mess, and out of the same platter, I resolved to quit Bahar, before a longer delay should have rendered it impossible for me to find admittance in Azim-abad; nor was the last party without its full measure of inconveniencies, although it proved to be the only measure that remained; for Ram-naráin had rendered me odious in that city, and was not pleased with my coming back. By good luck it happened that I recollected my being acquainted with the Physician, Gh8lam-aaly-qhan. As this gentleman, who had acquired the Governor’s good will and confidence, by curing him of a distemper, was greatly attached to me, I availed myself of this particular, to write him a short note, in which I requested his interest in obtaining Ram-naráin’s leave for my residing at Azim-abad. By the return of the messenger, I received the permission I had requested, upon which I repaired to the city with my brother, Séyd-aaly-qhan. But this permission did not please Radja M8rly-dur, no more than some Mussulman friends of his; they took umbrage at it. Luckily for me, that a few days after, I went to see Mr. Amiatt, Chief of the English factory at Azim-abad, and also Doctor Fullerton, the physician appointed by the council, to its service; and as I had an acquaintance with these gentlemen, but especially with the latter, I could not help telling them my story. Both those gentlemen joined in giving me assurances that I might stay in all safety; nay, the Doctor offered me his own bungalow for my accommodation; so that on seeing myself so strongly supported, I took again to my ancient abode, as I had a good house of my own at Azim-abad.

Intelligence being now come that the Shah-zada was in full march, Ram-naráin assembled his troops from all parts, and having got himself joined by Pahluvan-sing, and some other Zemindars at the head of their troops, he found himself further reinforced by the arrival of a good body of Afghans, that came to his assistance from M8rsh8d-abad, under the command of Rehem-qhan, the Rohilah, a famous officer, who had acquired a Second expedition of the Shah-zada’s in Bengal. character under Aaly-verdy-qhan, and whom Mir-djaafer-qhan had selected on that very account. Ram-naráin thus strengthened, marched out in a favourable hour, pointed out to him by his Brachman astrologers, and he encamped at five or six cosses on the road to Ticary. He had twelve thousand horse, a great deal of infantry, and several large pieces of cannon, together with a large number of swivels and rockets, as well as every requisite for war. Over and above all that force, he had a body of European English, commanded by Captain Cocran, who was accompanied by some other officers and Sergeants; the latter commanded a body of Hindian soldiers, armed and accoutred, and disciplined in the European manner of fighting; I mean those soldiers that are become so famous under the name of Talingas.^\(175\) They may have amounted to a thousand and some hundred men, all armed with flint-locks. They had likewise two brass guns, followed by their carts, loaded with ammunition ready made up; and these guns, furnished with their carts, were so handy, as to follow the troops everywhere.

Hardly had the Shah-zada passed the little river of Keremnassa, which is the boundary of the province of Azim-abad, when he received intelligence of the death of Aalemghir the second, his father. This event happened in the following strange manner:— A friend of the Vezir Umad-el-mulk’s^\(176\) artfully turned the conversation upon a Fakir or religious, freshly arrived at the monument of Firooz-shah, who performed wonders and miracles, and was visited by multitudes of persons. Aalemghir, on hearing this, had the simplicity to wish to see the holy man; and he mounted on his elephant to make him a visit. This was on the persuasion of Mehdy-nessar-qhan, the Cashmirian, brother to Ala-c8li-qhan; this nobleman accompanied the monarch thither, and carried him to the very room where the holy man was sitting, and he raised the curtain to afford an easier entrance to the Emperor, who, giving him the long sword^\(177\) which he carried in his hand, got into the room. This was immediately made fast from without; and the Monarch was hardly seated, when the murderers, who were all T8ranians of the most merciless kind, fell upon him with their poniards, and dispatched him in a moment; after which the door being set open again, the body was drawn out by the legs and tumbled downstairs, at the gate which looks eastward towards the river, and was now on a plain of dry sand. Mirza-babr, nephew and son-in-law to Aalemghir, seeing this scene, drew his sabre and wounded one or two persons; but he was soon overpowered by Mehdy-nessar-qhan’s people, who threw him into a covered paleky, and conveyed him to the Fortress of Selimgur, which is the usual place of confinement for Princes of the Imperial blood; from thence they brought out a Prince whom they seated on the throne, under the name of Shah-djehan-sani or the second. Meanwhile the body of Aalemghir remaining neglected, the l8ch-chas, or vilest part of the populace, had the generosity to assemble, and to carry it to H8mai8n’s monument, where they committed it to the ground. So sudden and so mournful a revolution could not but confound and amaze the Imperial Prince. His feelings were deeply affected; but he soon recovered spirits enough to write with his own hand an account of this unhapppy event, and to send it secretly by a trusty person to my forgiven father, who then resided with his consort and family upon his estate, in the town of Husséin-abad, which he had just founded and built. The letter, besides an account of the revolution, contained a request of some advice on what he thought was to be done. My forgiven father, on receiving the above letter, took pen, and without loss of time, wrote with his own hand a full answer, in which “he advised the Prince immediately, on his receiving his letter, to sit with the customary ceremonies^\(178\) upon the throne he had inherited; to send without loss of time the casket of the Vezir’s office,^\(179\) to Shudjah-ed-döulah, together with a rich qhylaat in investiture of that dignity; and meanwhile to appoint some able Mogul, of those now present about his person, to act as Deputy-Vezir. He likewise advised the Prince to invest Nedjib-ed-döulah^\(180\) with the office of Lord of Lords, which implies that of Paymaster-General and Commander of the forces; and to send him the qhylaat of that high office, which is next to the Vezirship; to send Munnir-ed-döula in embassy to the Abdaly King, with a letter informing him of his accession to the throne of his ancestors; and inviting him to come over to his assistance, as that Monarch had already done in favour of Shudjah-ed-döula, of Nedjib-ed-döula, and of some other Princes of Hindia, who had once made the same application.” To those advices he added these words: “Your Majesty, above all, must neglect nothing to gain the hearts of the principal men of your Court; nor is it necessary to appoint me, your old servant, to the office yau have intended. At present I am satisfied with the subsistence which I find in my humble retreat; but whenever I am so happy as to hear of your throne having been firmly established, and of your Empire being supported by the columns of consent and unanimity; whenever I hear that the Grandees of your dominions have attached themselves to their duty, and act unanimously in your service, then lhere will be found places enough for your ancient Minister, and bread enough for your old servant. At present I wish for nothing but to see you both prosperous and happy.” The Prince was then at Catoly. On receiving The Shah-zada hearing that his father had been murdered by the Vezir, ascends the throne under the title of Shah-aalem. my forgiven father’s letter, he ordered a throne to be erected, according to the usage of the House of Babr; and taking his seat upon it, he commenced his reign, under the titles of Shah-aalem-bahadyr, Emperor. He then sent the Vezir’s casket to Shudjah-ed-döula, with a rich qhylaat; forwarded another to Nedjib-ed-döula; and appointed Munnir-ed-döula to go as his Embassador to the Court of the Abdaly Monarch; in a word, he made every disposition that had been pointed out to him by my father’s letter; and he was waiting for the divine assistance, when Cam-car-qhan, with five or six thousand horse, made his appearance, and had the happiness to kiss the footsteps of the Imperial throne. Dilir-qhan, and Assalet-qhan, his brother, arrived at the same time, at the head of a thousand horse and foot, and were received with marks of favour and distinction. Cam-car-qhan at the same time undertook to furnish the expense of the Imperial household; and he soon found means to introduce plenty in camp. Dilir-qhan, who listened only to the impetuosity of his temper, and to the fury of his deep-rooted resentment, wanted to come immediately to a general engagement, as soon as Miren should arrive, that he might have it in his power to punish that coward in the field of braves, for the infamous deceit he had put upon him. But Cam-car-qhan, who was a man of sense and experience, requested that first of all they should fall upon Ram-naráin, before he should be joined by Miren; after which they would provide against Miren himself, thinking it dangerous to let them effect a junction of their forces. This advice having been approved by the Emperor, multitudes of men that presented themselves, were gradually and silently enlisted, insomuch, that in a little time he found himself in a condition to encounter Ram-naráin.

This Governor was encamped on the river Dehva, when the Emperor advanced upon him. Some skirmishes took place, and these ended in a battle. The engagement soon became general. The first line of Ram-naráin’s was led to action by Ahmed-qhan-coréishy, and by Rehem-qhan, the Rohilah. Radja M8rly-dur, the head spy, and Pahluvan-sing, with his Bodj-p8riahs, followed next, backed by some others of Ram-naráin’s troops. Captain Cocran was stationed close to that Governor’s troops, but without mixing with them. His men were ranged in the utmost order, as it is customary with the English troops, who always look like a wall. On the Emperor’s side, the troops were ranged in two large bodies. The one was led to action by Cam-car-qhan; the other, by the two brothers, Dilir-qhan, and Assalet-qhan. The Emperor, with a small number of select friends and servants, took his post in the rear. But hardly had the engagement become warm, than the two brothers, like two tigers avide of slaughter, and two elephants in rut, rushed on the flanks of Ram-naráin’s army, and made it give way; and as they were the foremost of those that had penetrated within the enemy’s ranks, they soon were aimed at like so many marks; and now musket-balls were falling from the English line like a storm of hail. The Bodj-p8riahs were firing at the same time, and all with a variety of other missiles were aiming at those two heroes, and at that intrepid troop that followed them. At last the elephant that carried Dilir-qhan’s standard, being attacked on all sides, took fright and turned about. This was observed to that officer. You talk to me of an elephant only, answered the man; I would not shrink for Heaven itself, were it to turn about. At these words he jumped down from his horse, and with two or three hundred of his old soldiers, all dismounted, he rushed on the enemy with sabre and buckler in hand. His brother, Assalet-qhan, did the same. The two brothers pushing forwards, broke the enemy’s ranks, and made them turn their backs a second time. It was not so with the English. These men stood their ground like a wall, from which fell such a rain of balls, as appalled the most daring. Nevertheless the enemy was flying. In this state of things Dilir-qhan was wounded by a musket-ball, that pierced both his cheeks, and Assalet-qhan, his brother, was run through by a spear, which made a large wound. Thirty of his bravest men were slain outright, and forty more disabled by their wounds; they all drank with open cheerful countenances, the bitter cup presented them by death, and plunged together in eternity. Forty more were wounded, most of whom followed their heroical Commanders, as few of these recovered of their wounds. But yet, in consequence of this vigorous attack, the enemy had been Noble character of an officer. put into much disorder, and had turned their backs; and the English fire seemed silenced. Rehem-qhan and Gh8lam-shah, two principal Commanders on Ram-naráin’s side, were taken prisoners by some of Cam-car-qhan’s and Medar-ed-döula’s soldiers. M8rly-dur was taken by Cam-car-qhan himself, and became his prisoner. M8rad-qhan, the Ball8ch, and Ahmed-qhan, the Coréishy, escaped by flight; in one word, all that line fled. As soon as the English fire was silenced, and the enemy was seen flying, Cam-car-qhan fell upon Ram-naráin, who yet stood his ground with a small number of men. This Governor, unable to stand such an attack, sent to the English Commander to request one-half of his men. The latter had, at the beginning, warned him, that he had better take his post amongst the English; but this he would not hear, as he found his pride wounded by the proposal, or he had some other object in view. This much is certain, that the Captain who had orders to be careful of the Radja’s person, was obliged to send him part of his men; and as his whole corps, which was but a handful, had already suffered much, his men on seeing themselves parted asunder, were confounded, lost their usual firmness, and dispersed; for Cam-car-qhan, making his attack at the very moment of their parting, rendered it impossible for them to form again, and afforded an excuse to their flight, which became less disgraceful on that very account. The runaways being vigorously pursued by that Zemindar, that flight became general, and thereby ceased to be a disgrace. The whole of Ram-naráin’s army was put to the rout, and the Radja himself obliged to fly for his life. Cam-car-qhan joining him at that very moment, ran a spear at him, wounded him grievously, and would have killed him infallibly, had he not been vigorously opposed by the late Mir-abdollah, the illustrious gentleman whom we have mentioned to have been recommended to the Radja, by Mr. Watts; this officer, on covering his master with his body, received several wounds from arrows, and from spears, but still covered and saved his master. The latter, already wounded dangerously, fell speechless in his háodah, where very luckily for him, he was sheltered by the boards of it from Cam-car-qhan’s fury; for the latter struck his spear into it a second time, and hit him again. After that there was no remaining any more on the field of battle; and Ram-naráin appearing senseless, his driver turned his elephant about and fled with all his might. Captain Cocran and Mr. Barwell,^\(181\) with some other English officers, were slain one after another, in consequence of that improper division which they had made of their forces, and which had occasioned a dispersion. What remained of their people was rallied by Doctor William Fullerton, a friend of mine, and possibly by some English officers, whose names I know not, who ranged them in order again; and as one of their guns was to be left on the field of battle, they found means to render it useless and of no avail, by thrusting a large needle of iron into its eye. The other being in no good condition, they took it with them, together with its ammunition; and that handful of men had the courage to retire in the face of a victorious enemy, without once shrinking from their ranks. During their journey the cart of ammunition chanced to receive some damage; the Doctor stopped unconcernedly, and after having put it in order, he bravely pursued his route again; and it must be acknowledged, that this nation’s presence of mind, firmness of temper, and undaunted bravery, are past all question. They join the most resolute courage to the most cautious prudence; nor have they their equals in the art of ranging themselves in battle array, and fighting in order. If to so many military qualifications they knew how to join the arts of government; if they shewed a concern for the circumstances of the husbandman, and of the gentleman; and exerted as much ingenuity and solicitude in relieving and easing the people of God, as they do in whatever concerns their military affairs, no nation in the world would be preferable to them, or prove worthier of command. But such is the little regard which they shew to the people of these kingdoms, and such their apathy and indifference for their welfare, that the people under their dominion groan everywhere, and are reduced to poverty and distress. O! God, come to the assistance of thine afflicted servants, and deliver them from the oppressions they suffer.^\(182\) The Emperor satisfied with his victory, ordered his music to play in token of rejoicing, but forbore pursuing the vanquished. After the battle, it was found that Dilir-qhan had drank with the utmost courage and alacrity, the bitter cup presented him by death; that Assalet-qhan, his brother, was yet mounted on the pinions of death, The Shah-zada beats Ram-naráin in battle, but misses Azim-abad. and was hastening to the gates of eternity; and that a number of their lion-like companions were taking the same route, in company with their intrepid Commanders. M8rly-dur who was deprived of an eye, which he had lost in the battle by the stroke of a spear, was a prisoner; and so was Rehem-qhan also; but without being confined. The bodies of Dilir-qhan and Assalet-qhan were taken up from the field of battle, and inhumated in a monument betwixt Fat8ah and Bycant-p8r; and the slain in general were brought together, and all committed to the earth. Had the victorious followed their blow, and pursued the vanquished, they would have mastered the city of Azim-abad at once, as there did not remain in it so much as a single soldier; they would have plundered it, and would have finished Ram-naráin, who could not move. But as it was ordered by fate that the city should be saved, and the honour of so many noble families preserved, Cam-car-qhan contented himself with plundering the flat country, and laying it under contribution, without it having once come into his head to rush at once into a city that would have cost him no trouble at all, as it was totally undefended. I was talking with my friends in Doctor Fullerton’s bangla,^\(183\) when news came of Ram-naráin’s being defeated. It was not believed at first; but the intelligence being repeated in several places, and some known persons returning wounded, news came at last that Ram-naráin and Mir-abdollah were coming, both very much wounded. On hearing this, I went to see and to console that officer, who was extremely my friend. Meanwhile the inhabitants were seized with a general consternation, especially the rich ones; so that Mustapha-c8li-qhan, brother to Mirza-iredj-qhan, put his family and wealth in a number of boats, and brought them under the windows of the English factory, ready to cross the river, whilst he repaired to Mirza-abdollah’s lodgings, which were close to that factory; on the outside of the city walls. For my own part, as I had neither family nor money in the city, I was easy enough, and could not help reprimanding Mustapha-c8li-qhan for his hastiness; but he made no account of the admonition, and leaving his family in the boats, he took up his abode elsewhere. Mr. Amyatt hearing of Ram-naráin’s being come, went to see him, and to administer some consolation to his mind; but finding every thing in confusion in that family, he appointed some of his own people for the safety of that Governor’s person and house, and went away. Ram-naráin asked him, what was to be done? The other answered, “That it was not customary in his nation to give groundless hopes, or to write falsehoods. That as matters stood now, he ought to take such measures as might secure his person, by acting according to the complexion of the times, until an army should come from Bengal.” This undisguised advice engaged Ram-naráin to write a letter to the Emperor, in which he excused himself on the pains he suffered from his wounds, for not paying him his respects, as it was his duty to do; and this correspondence having taken up two or three days, in which time the enemy neglected to push on to the city, which was incapable of making any defence, this interval afforded the runaways time to return thither in greater numbers, and to fill all the parts with armed men. News coming at the same time to the Emperor and to Cam-car-qhan, that the Bengal army was on its march, with the Colonel and the English at its head, they raised their camp and marched forward to meet the enemy.

And here it will not be improper to remark that Miren, who was the General of that army, having never been in any engagement, Marches to fight the army of Bengal, and the Colonel. or chanced to be fixed by the piercing eye of a warriorz accustomed to quench his thirst in hostile blood, he was inclined to entertain so very high notions of his own prowess, that he thought himself the most valorous man in the world; insomuch, that with his own troops only (and on those he reposed the greatest confidence) he intended to give the enemy battle, and to gain the victory, without the assistance of the English. Now it must be remembered, that the English in an engagement, always fight apart, never mixing with any auxiliaries or confederates, lest these last should disturb their order of battle; only, if some man of consequence should choose, for his own safety, to take shelter within their ranks with a small number of guards and friends, he is always welcome. In consequence of this disposition, the two armies of the Colonel’s, and of Miren’s, approached the enemy asunder from each other; and this was in an open plain, where the eye could reach every object from afar. Miren on descrying the enemy, mounted his elephant, and ranged his troops apart from the English. The English ranged themselves in their customary order, with their artillery in front, and their Talingas on the wings. As to the Emperor’s army, where there was not a man capable of equalling Dilir-qhan, it was divided by Carm-car-qhan in two parts: the first, being his first line, he put under the orders of two Commanders of character, namely, Cadyr-dad-qhan, son to Qhalyc-dad-qhan, the Tirinian. and Gh8lam-shah, the Lucnovian. At the same time he took charge of the other, with which he formed the second line. The Emperor himself, with his household, took his post in the rear, and became an uncommon spectacle for both friends and foes. The armies having approached each other, Cadyr-dad-qhan, and Gh8lam-shah left the English army at their right, and falling at once upon Miren’s troops, they afforded him a specimen of a furious attack, rendered dreadful by a promiscuous slaughter. On the first onset, numbers of Miren’s troops were so appalled, as to confound their ranks. Miren himself, without minding his high rank and conspicuous station, was struck with a panic, and turned about; he fled for sometime, followed reluctantly by some of his Commanders, who in vain called on him to return; some even chided him; but the cowards who were flying with him, finding that his flight went so much to their own discharge, thought only of mending their pace. It was at that time that the English having commenced firing, the battle blazed out; and Miren chided by his Commanders, plucked up some courage, and resolved to return to the field of battle. A number of braves took him in the middle of their ranks, and returned to the charge, where they behaved so as to be remarked from both sides. This was no sooner observed by Cadyr-dad-qhan, than he advanced, and let fly a shower of arrows; the very first of which having lodged in the breast of Mahmed-amin-qhan, who had espoused Miren’s aunt, and was mounted on an elephant close to him, it killed him outright, and dispatched him to the other world. Another arrow hit Miren himself, and broke one of his teeth; and whilst he was carrying his hand thither, another arrow lodged itself in his neck, without finishing him, however; for his last hour was not yet come. After this flight of arrows, Cadyr-dad-qhan’s men falling upon the braves that surrounded Miren, came to hand-blows with them; and being warmly received, the business of wounding and killing with sabre, and arrow, Beats the Indians, but it beaten by English. and spear, went on briskly; and numbers on both sides being wounded and slain, the engagement became hearty and warm. In a little time the ground was strewed with a vast number of bodies. But Miren had lost his presence of mind; he held his empty bow in his hand, without once remembering to put the other into his quiver; shook his head to and fro, like the flame of a burning taper, for fear, doubtless, of being hit again by some other arrow; and he was ready to turn about a second time. At this critical moment, the English army moving forward, took Cadyr-dad-qhan’s people in flank and rear; and a ball hitting that Commander, killed him on the spot. Cam-car-qhan, who had advanced to that General’s support, having had a full view of the small number of his troops, and of the havoc which the English fire was making everywhere, did not think it prudent to stand his ground; and he turned about and retreated. Gh8lam-shah, the second Commander, was wounded, as well as Aziz-8llah-qhan, Comptroller of the Emperor’s household; and both being surrounded by Miren’s people, were mercilessly hacked to pieces; so that victory remained to that Prince. Cam-car-qhan, who had quitted the field of battle, thought proper to carry the Emperor to Bahar; whilst Miren returned to his quarters, where having ordered the music to play in token of rejoicing on this victory, he spent his time in providing for his wounds, and those of his people, as well as in purifying and inhuming the remains of the late Mahmed-amin-qhan. He also took care to render the last duties to the slain that covered the ground; and some days were spent on that spot; where meanwhile he was visited by every person in town, myself only excepted, every one striving to gain his favour. But Ram-naráin and Mir-abdollah were retained at home by their wounds.

We have said that Cam-car-qhan had carried the Emperor to Bahar. He tarried there no more than two or three days; for as he expected nothing now but from his alertness, he resolved te leave the enemy behind, and by cutting his way through the hills and mountains, to be beforehand with them at M8rsh8d-abad, where he would possess himself of Mir-djaafer-qhan’s person, and of the wealth of so rich a capital. With this view, he made every preparative which his time would permit; and throwing away, or possibly putting into some castle, his artillery and carriages, (articles which might prove so many incumbrances in his passage through the hills and in a warfare of expedition) Cam-car-qhan detaches himself from the Shah-zada to fall by stealth upon M8rsh8d-abad. he set out with a disincumbered body of troops; and turning to the right, he struck into the hilly country, from whence he marched straight to M8rsh8d-abad. Miren being informed of this, dispatched a letter by the post to his father, and taking with himself most of Ram-naráin’s troops, which the latter had put under the command of his own brother, Durdj-naráin, he in a few days set out for M8rsh8d-abad, by the very road by which Cam-car-qhan had proceeded. Such an intelligence could not but astonish the old Navvab; but nevertheless he put himself at the head of what troops he could assemble, and of a body which he obtained from the English rulers of Calcutta; and quitting M8rsh8d-abad in a favourable moment, he marched out at the head of a respectable force. He was mounted on an elephant, and surrounded by his household and women, but always took care to move betwixt the lines of the European English, who marched, as usual, with their artillery in front, and their Indian soldiers, so famous under the name of Talingas, on their wings and flanks. The Navvab’s own troops marched in front of these, and to the right and left, but at a great distance. Is prevented in his design. He also encamped in the same manner, and always in the middle of the European English; and this disposition continued, until his son came up, and their two armies joined.

During all these movements, two Marhatta Commanders of character, namely, Shy8-bahat and Bab8-djan, with the Radja of Bishen-p8r, came to join the Emperor, to whom they paid their respects. This junction of so much light cavalry, put Cam-car-qhan upon exerting himself. It happened that Mir-cassem-qhan, son-in-law to the Navvab, and who had been sent for with his troops from his Fodjdary of Rangp8r, was encamped on the river Dam8der. Cam-car-qhan, who had received intelligence of it, marched sixteen cosses in one day, to fall upon him by surprise; but the other having betimes found out his danger, retired to the grand army, and only some of his people were intercepted by the Marhattas, who just shewed themselves, and overtook his rear. The Navvab after that junction with his son, put himself at the head of that numerous army, and trusting to his numbers, and to the prevalence of his English, he presented battle to Cam-car-qhan, who had been encamped on the other side of the Dam8der; the latter not thinking himself a match for such numerous forces, resolved to deceive them, and to go back towards Azim-abad. He tarried only that night in that post, and at day-break, he beat his nagara, and took to the road of Azim-abad. Mir-djaafer-qhan finding that the enemy avoided an engagement, crossed the Dam8der with intention to pursue; and this being perceived by the enemy, Cam-car-qhan and Shy8-bahat detached themselves from their main, and kept the enemy in play for some hours together with repeated skirmishes, until their baggage and main had advanced on their journey by four or five cosses; after which they left the enemy and rejoined their main. This retreat having set at ease Mir-djaafer-qhan’s mind, who was already elated by his son’s victory, he resolved to get rid in his own way of a man on whose account he harboured some suspicions, as he was accused of some correspondence with the Emperor. This was no other than Sheh-abdol-vehhab-canb8, An officer of distinction blown off at a gun, by the Navvab’s order. a Commander of character, who had served with distinction under Seradj-ed-döula. On this single surmise, the old Navvab got him seized and blown at a gun; this being his second performance in that style.

Meanwhile Cam-car-qhan finding himself so much outnumbered, had thought proper to go back to Azim-abad; and on the other hand, Mir-djaafer-qhan and the English troops, who are all infantry, had become tired of such laborious marches, and of such a desultory kind of war. Both nations were to a man desirous of some repose. They, therefore, made choice of a proper spot near Bardevan, where they rested for some days, waiting to see what might be Cam-car-qhan’s operations with his Marhatta auxiliaries, and in what part of the country he would emerge again; for the Emperor had invited M8sher Lass, the Frenchman, to join him again; and the latter had quitted his residence of Chitur-p8r, and was arrived in the neighbourhood of Azim-abad, whilst he that had invited him over, was yet in the Bardevan. On his approach, a general consternation seized the whole city, as there were not in the place any troops, either Hindostany or English. Ram-naráin himself stood amazed; nor were Mr. Amyatt and the other gentlemen of the English factory without many apprehensions on their own account; for far from being elated by the victory which their friends had gained, they did not think themselves on a state of defence against M8sher Lass; and on the other hand Ram-naráin, as well as Mustapha-c8li-qhan and the other Grandees of the city, were all out of their minds; nevertheless, they sent a gentleman of distinction to compliment M8sher Lass. It was one Mir-djaafer, who had got acquainted with that Commander, when the latter had some years ago hired his house for lodging his people; his orders were to sound the Frenchman upon his intentions. The envoy soon returned, and brought intelligence that at present he had not so much as a thought about mastering the city; and there was a good reason for it; for as he had come from afar, and by continual marches, he had no information at all about the state in which the place could be; nor did he know whether it contained any troops, and in what number. Had he been informed how destitute it was of every thing that might be called soldiers, he would have not failed to lay hold of so fair and so easy an opportunity. There were no troops in the city; and all the force in the English factory did not amount to more than one company of Talingas, and a few gentlemen; for I reckon for nothing those that had escaped from the engagement with Ram-naráin. These were too much disheartened by their wounds and by their shameful defeat, to stand the brunt of an escalade, or an assault. The envoy having satisfied himself with the Frenchman’s intentions, strove to render others easy; but this proved a difficult task; and the consternation remained until the Frenchman having decamped and marched by the outskirts of the city, and the suburbs of T8lsymonduvi, went round and advanced two or three cosses, where he encamped on the road to Bahar; then only did the inhabitants of Azim-abad think themselves safe; and then only did they commence to breathe freely, as if they had come to life a second time. Mir-djaafer reported, that M8sher Lass had asked about his friends in the city, such as Mustapha-c8li-qhan, Mir-abdollah, and Mir-afzul, and some others; and he added, that on his asking in the name of those friends of his, how matters went with him? The Frenchman had contented himself with answering those questions by these two verses of the poets:—

On his arrival at Bahar, he spent his time in manufacturing gunpowder, and making every preparation which his circumstances could afford; but they had so good intelligence at Azim-abad, that his preparations were known day by day.

It was at this very time that Cam-car-qhan returned with the Emperor from his expedition of Bardevan; but hardly were they arrived, when they heard several good news at one and the same time; for it was about this time that Qhadem-hassen-qhan, Governor of P8raniah, wrote word, “That he was attached to the Imperial service, and would soon come up with his forces to the Emperor’s assistance;” and meanwhile sums of money in small parcels came to the Imperial treasury from Radja D8ll8b-ram, by the channel of the Sanyassee Fakyrs, who also brought letters which assured the Emperor of his attachment and devotion to his Imperial service. Nor was that silent manner of transacting business unknown to Mir-afzul, the Cashmirian merchant, a man of eminence, who assisted the Emperor both with The refractory Governor of P8raniah wants to join the Shah-zada. money and information. Unluckily for that Prince, Qhadem-hassen-qhan was faulty in delaying his departure so much; for had he come at that time, it is certain that he would have mastered the city of Azim-abad with ease, and that such a conquest would have added a great deal of renown and influence to the Imperial name. And indeed, although the Emperor and Cam-car-qhan had thought proper, on their arrival at Bahar, to give their forces some repose, nevertheless all was confusion in Azim-abad, as there were not in that city any troops that could be trusted; and the Governor, as well as the inhabitants, trembled for their own safety, even at the very time he did every thing in his power to encourage his people, and to put his towers and ramparts in repair. At last he found himself at the head of some thing that looked like a force; and his city was put in a state of defence. Meanwhile letter after letter was going to M8rsh8d-abad to represent the state of impotence, to which the departure of his brother, Dirdj-naráin, with all the forces of the province, had reduced him. These efforts were seconded by Mr. Amyatt, who was preparing for his own defence, and had assembled in the factory about three companies of Talingas, who had been hitherto dispersed in several outposts. But hardly were those preparatives finished, when the Emperor made his appearance with his General, and at last besieged the city. Immediately the garrison was distributed everywhere, and every thing prepared for a vigorous resistance. But amongst those proposed to the defence of the walls, none cut so conspicuous a figure as Ráo-shitab-ráy, who although but one of the many that had been in the battle lost by Ram-naráin, seemed to be the most humbled by that disgrace, and the most active in endeavouring to retrieve his honour. He passed every night on the ramparts without sleeping, whilst his corps, that did not amount to more than two or three hundred men, was so much encouraged by his example and by his liberalities, that his soldiers proved at all times the boldest and most active of the whole garrison. The Emperor and his General were encamped at the Eastern gate, near the citadel; and an assault had already been given to it. The fifth or sixth day of the siege, M8sher Lass having spied in the southern part of the wall a spot proper for his design, applied a ladder, upon which some of his men mounted directly. Luckily for the besieged that Doctor Fullerton, with some officers and a few Talingas, immediately ran to that part, where one of the officers finding a rocket under his hand, set fire to it, and threw it against the Frenchman, whom it overthrew in the ditch whether dead or alive. The report having brought Shitab-ráy to the spot, he ordered his men to go round out of the gate, and to take the assaulters in flank; which being bravely executed by those people, whilst the Talingas fired upon them from the wall, the French were repulsed and obliged to desist. Two days after, at about four o’clock in the morning, M8sher Lass commenced another attack on the western side of the city; and he played his cannon and mortars with so good effect, that a general terror seized the inhabitants. At the same time another attack was formed on the eastern side by Zin-el-abedin-qhan, of whose valour and high character we have made mention in our account of Mahmed-c8li-qhan’s retreat. Part of the wall, which was of masonry, had been thrown down by the French artillery, and Zin-el-abedin-qhan having ordered his standard-bearer to precede, planted some ladders, and mounted immediately, himself the foremost. Being arrived upon the top of the wall, he planted his standard with his own hand, and was soon joined by a few men that were emulous of his bravery; and these commenced firing upon the garrison, which stood below, and killed so many men, that the others thought proper to seek their safety by flight. Nevertheless that brave officer was not within the place as yet. The wall was lofty, and it became necessary to draw up the ladders, and to let them down again; a manœuvre that took up some time, and put it in the power of P8r-dil-qhan-ball8ch, the Djonp8rian, to come up with his corps, and to support the garrison. A warm firing ensued, which soon brought Doctor Fullerton with a few Talingas thither; and matters became doubtful, when some musket-ball hit Zin-el-abedin-qhan in the leg, and shattered the bone into shivers. He was supported by his men, who took him up in their arms, and were at the pains of letting him down the wall in that condition, and thither they all followed him, no one daring to stand his ground without their brave Commander.

All this while I had been fast asleep; but being now awakened by the roaring of the cannon, I got up, and went on the terrace of Mir-abdollah’s house,^\(184\) (a gentleman of whom mention has already been made more than once) from whence I had a good view of the double attack carrying on at the eastern and southern sides of the city. Our whole quarter was up now, and Azim-aba?? greatly distressed, but relieved in time by Captain Knox. in the utmost terror and confusion. Luckily that the day clearing up, I discovered beyond the sands which were in the river’s bed, and on the opposite side of the shore, some English colours and standards flying. At the same time I observed some badjarows and other boats putting off from the English factory, and making towards the opposite shore. On sending for intelligence at the factory, I learned that Captain Knox had brought up in so short a time, as thirteen days only, a detachment from Bardevan, and that Mr. Amyatt was sending boats to bring them over. It being now broad day, I took Mir-abdollah with me and went to see Ram-naráin, who lived in Ismáil-qhan’s seat, whose garden came close to the city’s berme. He was pale, his lips dry, his whole person impressed with fear; nor was Doctor Fullerton himself without some emotion. And no wonder, people were now under general apprehensions that, although the last attack had been got over with the utmost difficulty, yet the next might prove more difficult, the general opinion being now, that the enemy had found out the way to get within the city, and had only miscarried by an accident. It became notorious now that