Dissensions all over Bengal—Azim-abad twice attacked by the Imperial Prince, Aaly-goher, now Shah-aalem—Detestable character of both Mir-djaafer-qhan and his son—He is dethroned by his son-in-law, Mir-cassem-qhan, who after a short reign, is expelled by the English, who re-establish the old Prince—Conspiracies—War with Shudja-ed-döulah, Sovereign of Awd, who is totally defeated by the English at Bacsar.
The Government of Oressa given to a Gentoo, who is bubbled out of his post by the Fakirs in the Marhatta Rhago-dji’s interest —Vigorous answer given by Aaly-verdy-qhan to the Marhatta’s proposal—Rhago-dji rejoins—The refuged Afghans rescued, and taken into pay by the Marhattas—A coolness and then a sharp dialogue between the Governor of Azim-abad and Abdol-aaly-qhan —A sharp action between Aaly-verdy-qhan and the Marhattas—Another action in which Dost-mahmed-qhan, a new man, distinguishes himself—The Marhattas overthrown at Catwa with great slaughter—Aaly-verdy-qhan tired of the war— Treachery in the Afghans of the Bengal army, discovered—He celebrates the nuptials of his two grandsons, Seradj-ed-döula and Ecram-ed-döula—Some account of Mirza-yredj-qhan, father-in-law to Seradj-ed-döulah—Some account of Mir-c8bra—Mir-djaafer-qhan and Ata-ollah-qhan conspire against Aaly-verdy-qhan —The conspiracy discovered and punished—The Marhattas defeated a fourth time—The Governor of Azim-abad aspires to independence, and takes the disbanded Afghans in his pay—Who conspire against him—And murder him—The Afghans spread throughout the city, which they plunder—The murderers resolved to stand their ground against Aaly-verdy-qhan —Affecting speech of the latter to his troops—He provides for his Capital, and marches to Azim-abad—Brave defence made by Din-mahmed—The Marhattas join the Afghans at Azim-abad. Pretensions of the latter against them—Battle of Barr, near Azim-abad, where the murdering Generals are all slain, and their troops put to the sword—The Viceroy sends for the Ladies of the Afghan Generals, and treats them with the utmost decency—His extreme delicacy and generosity on their account.
It must be remembered that Aaly-verdy-qhan had borne his part in the second campaign against Mustapha-qhan; and it was then that intelligence came to camp of Rhago-dji-bhoslah’s having invaded the Oressa. This invasion was brought about in the following manner:—Abdol-res8l-qhan, Governor of Oressa, had paid so much regard to the rupture between his uncle and Aaly-verdy-qhan, as to quit his post, and go over with his whole brigade to Mustapha-qhan’s assistance. He had left the Government to a Nàib or Deputy of his, which he appointed without, however, meddling with Radja D8lobram, who had been appointed his Agent-General by the Viceroy, and was son to a Prime Minister. Of course, on the Governor’s desertion, the Government devolved on this Gentoo, to whom the Patent and insignia of Governor came from M8rsh8d-abad soon after. But D8lobram was unfit for such an office. Scrupulously attached to his religious practices, he was much addicted to the company of Brahmans and Sanyassees,\(1\) or Gentoo Fakyrs, who intirely governed him; whereas he seemed averse to the company of his military officers, most of whom were Mussulmen; and it is observable that most of those Sanyassees were Rhago-dji-bhoslah’s spies, who thereby receiving frequent intelligence of D8lobram’s contemptible conduct, and of the weakness of his Government, erected his scheme upon that knowledge. He was confirmed in his resolution by letters which he then received from Mustapha-qhan, who invited him to a community of interests and warfare. The Marhatta Prince, who since his General’s murder, was like an untrodden snake retired within its hole, from whence he watched the moment of revenge, looked upon this invitation as on a particular interposition from Heaven in his behalf. Putting himself therefore at the head of fourteen thousand horse, he marched towards Bengal, crossed the mountainous tracts betwixt his dominions and Oressa, and arrived on the frontiers of that country; whilst D8lobram, meanly busy with his Sanyassees on the shore of the river, was kept in so gross an ignorance, that the enemy was close upon him, before he had suspected anything of the matter. Mir-abdol-aziz, that worthy officer, and venerable Séyd of Semana, of whom we have somewhile ago made mention, had somehow got intelligence of the enemies being close and at hand; and on the first intelligence, he got upon his horse, and went to Court immediately with about twenty troopers, that were at hand, giving orders to his people to mount, and follow him without loss of time. Being arrived at D8lobram’s door, he found that he was asleep yet, and knew nothing of the Marhattas; and a full hour more was spent in waiting for his rising; meanwhile a general uproar having risen throughout the city of Catec, people began to fly and provide for their safety. It was then, and not sooner, that D8lobram being awakened, came out half naked, and without a turbant, and in that condition, got into his Paleky, with intention to take shelter in the castle of Bhara-Bhaty, which was not far off. Mir-abdol-aziz was following him with the troops that were with him. They were advancing together, when at some distance, but still within the city, he stopped awhile to speak to one of his men, and on turning his head about, he saw some Marhatta troopers busy in stripping people, and D8lobram on foot, endeavouring to skulk about some ruined houses; on sight of this, he ran forwards, and seizing him by the arm, he reproached him with his cowardice. “Why are you frightened,” cried he, “and why do you render yourself contemptible? Get upon this horse, and follow me. These are no more than people intent on plunder and sac. Believe me, there is time yet to retire into the castle; and rest assured that I will not leave you here.” D8lobram, recovering from his fright, mounted upon his horse, and was immediately surrounded by the officer’s troopers, who carried him safe to the gate of the castle. Meanwhile some of D8lobram’s soldiers joined him, as did some detached soldiers from the other corps by a few at a time; so that in a little time he found himself with a good number of troops in and about the fortress. But Rhago-dji arriving a little after, besieged the castle immediately, and D8lobram was now frightened in earnest; and being informed also that Aaly-verdy-qhan, his master, was gone on an expedition against Mustapha-qhan, he yielded to the intreaties and suggestions of the Sanyassees, who proposed to mediate an agreement; and he resolved to make himself easy, as he wanted no more than his life. With this view he held a consultation with his Commanders and officers. Some of these, out of compliment to their Governor, voted for an immediate surrender; and some thought it was too late to make any effectual resistance in so unprepared a station. But they were opposed by Mir-abdol-aziz and some others, who thought such a surrender dishonourable to their master, Aaly-verdy-qhan, and disgraceful to themselves; and they were for fighting and defending the place. D8lobram inclined to an agreement; and he was deluded into it by his Sanyassees at last. After many days’ conferences D8lobram came out of the fortress, and went to pay a visit to the Marhatta Prince, accompanied by all his Commanders and officers, and even by a brother of Mir-abdol-aziz, who came out with ten or twelve of his men. But that Commander himself, with three or four hundred of his soldiers, remained in the Fort, together with a number of towns-men who had taken shelter in it. D8lobram, after his visit, wanted to return home; but was prevented by the Marhatta, who objected to his returning in the heat of the day, and desired his accepting of an entertainment prepared in a tent set up for his taking some rest; he also distributed the Governor’s officers amongst his own Commanders, recommending their being handsomely used and entertained, like so many guests. The officers seeing an entertainment spread for them, soon laid down their arms, loosened their girdles, and having partaken of the entertainment, they retired to take some rest; but on their waking up they found themselves prisoners and in confinement; and every one of them repented, but too late, of his credulity. On hearing of this treachery, Mir-abdol-aziz assumed the command of the fortress, and prepared for its defence. The Prince disappointed, sent him his own brother, to persuade him to a surrender; and this brother was accompanied by envoys which D8lobram himself had sent to his people for the same purpose. Abdol-aziz answered his own brother in these terms: “Sir, tell Rhago-dji that at present I have neither brother nor master; we are servants to one Lord, who is Aaly-verdy-qhan the formidable in war. Some ungrateful cowards have gone over to you, and listened to your words; but as for us, we shall defend this fortress, as becomes faithful soldiers, and as long as breath shall remain in our bosom; and this is our last resolution.” The brave Commander proved as good as his word; and for a month and some days, he sustained a vigorous siege. These events were taking place, at the very time when the Viceroy of Bengal recalled by the solicitations of Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, his nephew, who announced Rhago-dji’s invasion in the Oressa, had quitted his expedition of Azim-abad, to return to Bengal. Although he heard of D8lobram’s being entrapped, and of Abdol-aziz’s still defending himself, yet he forbore moving to his assistance, as he wanted to manage Rhago-dji, and had sent to him a gentleman, lately come from Delhi, called Munaam-aaly-qhan, a person of eloquence and abilities. Rhogo-dji, ascribing such an unexpected step to conscious weakness, answered “That he could not return home, unless he was complemented with three Corors of rupees.” The Viceroy embarrassed in his circumstances, spun out the negotiation to a length, until hearing of Mustapha-qhan’s defeat, he first of all returned his humble acknowledgment to God Almighty, and then taking another stile with the Marhatta Prince, he turned a new leaf with him, and lent him the following message: An agreement Vigorous message sent by Aaly-verdy qhan to the Marhatta’s proposal. brought about by dint of money, is the effect of either impotence, or some great hope. As to the first, I inform you that by God’s blessing, the intrepid warriors, those lions avide of slaughter and blood, are more covetous than ever of another engagement with you, and more desirous of fighting than hunters are of getting at their prey. And as to the second article, I must tell you, that they cannot expect any benefit from entering into a treaty with so unfortunate and so ill fated a Commander as you. Matters standing thus, the agreement you expect, cannot be brought about but by a battle, when the lions giddy with the fumes of an approaching slaughter, shall swim over the bloody plain, shall drag the crocodiles of Barar to the slaughter, and tinge the element with streams of their blood. Then, and not sooner, whoever shall have obtained the victory, will have it in his power to propose an agreement to his own mind. Rhago-dji on receiving this message, resolutely answered in these words. “I am come from a thousand cosses’ distance to encamp in this corner of the dominions of your Majestuous Highness,\(2\) and do not see that you have as yet moved so little as a hundred cosses to receive your guests.” This answer produced the following reply: “What you observe is nothing but truth. However, the reason is that the rainy season is at hand; please therefore to take some rest; and rest assured that, so soon as that season is over, I shall not only move to meet you, as my guest, but shall have the politeness to reconduct you as far as your own home.” Rhago-dji, after this message, advanced towards Birbohom, where he took up his quarters; from hence by parties he brought under his power the whole province of Oressa as far as Midnip8r and Hedjly, together with great part of the Bardevan. All this while the brave Mir-abdol-aziz was defending the fortress of Bhara-bhaty; but the place being ill furnished for a long defence, and, above all, wanting provisions, he agreed to surrender it, on condition of having his person, honour, and baggage safe, as well as that of his people; and that none of them should be forced to take party with the Marhattas. This treaty was insured by a paper sent him by Rhago-dji under his hand and seal, and under the hands and seals of all his principal Commanders, who signed as guarantees to the performance of the articles. On these conditions he surrendered the fortress; and after having tarried a few days in the Marhatta camp, he took his leave of the Marhatta Prince, and went to M8rsh8d-abad. D8lobram remained a prisoner one full year, or even some months more; nor was he released but by the mediation of some Bankers, who paid a ransom of three lacs of ruppes for him. After which he returned to M8rsh8d-abad, where the Viceroy repaid the money to his father, a Minister with whose faithful services he was perfectly satisfied.
Whilst the Marhatta Prince was encamped in the Birbohum, there came letters and petitions from M8rteza-qhan and B8lend-qhan, and the other Afghan officers who had taken shelter in the mountains of Macri-cogh after the loss of the battle. The Zemindars of those parts had suffered them to build themselves huts in those mountains, but cast a wishful eye upon some of those things which those refugees had been able to bring with them. On the other hand, the Zemindars of Sarseram, named Pahluvan-sing, and Sot-hur-sing, had received letters from the Governor of Bahar, which recommended their taking care, that those refugees should not find means to escape. But by this time, the Afghans tired with living in a country infested with myriads of snakes and ants, and to exist like men buried alive, had of themselves repeatedly written in the humblest terms to Rhago-dji, to supplicate “his taking the trouble of coming to their assistance; and they promised, in case of their being delivered from their loathsome habitations, to addict their whole lives to his service, without quitting his standards, unless dismissed.” They added, “that they would ever keep that favour of his as a ring hanging at their ears, and would carry all their lives on their shoulders the trappings of attachment and sincerity.” Rhago-dji finding his The refuged Afghans joined by the Marhattas. advantage in attaching to his person and cause some thousand Afghans, all old soldiers, equipped at all points, set out for Birbohum a little before the end of the rains, and taking his route over the mountains of that country, and through the hills and valleys of Carrick-p8r, he in his way across the province of Azim-abad, sacked and plundered the town of Ticcary and Sheh-p8ra, with their whole territory. After which he forded the Sohon, went into the hills of Sarseram, and delivered the Afghans from their misery; he then descended into the plain, and encamped at Arvel. His army, by the junction of the Afghans, amounted now to full twenty thousand horse. Immediately after him, Aaly-verdy-qhan arrived at Azim-abad at the head of twelve thousand horse, all old soldiers, determined to put an end to his quarrel with the Marhattas. His nephew, the Governor of the Province, went out to a great distance to meet him; and had the honour of kissing his uncle’s footsteps; after which he remained sometime in camp, Aaly-verdy-qhan having been pleased to spend some days in enjoying his relations, kinsmen, and friends.
And here it must be mentiond that some months before his arrival, a coolness and indifference had taken place between the Governor of Azim-abad and Abdol-aaly-qhan; and the coolness increasing, their faces had been obscured with the dust of so much discontent and disgust, that the former love and union had been succeeded by separation and distance. The subject was a certain note which the Governor had written to Abdol-aaly-qhan, in which were some sharp expressions, the purport and sense of which was this: “My brother, Radja Kyret-chund, has received wounds in the battle against Mustapha-qhan, and has rendered many services; and what has done your Lordship, that you should require so much gratitude at my hands, and require it as your due?” Abdol-aaly-qhan shocked at the drift of the note, abstained from going to Court; but on the Viceroy’s arrival, who was his maternal uncle, he resolved to attach himself to him, after having quitted the Governor’s service. He intended henceforward to spend the remainder of his life in that Prince’s Court, and to follow him to M8rsh8d-abad. With this view, he once after dinner, remained on purpose in the Prince’s tent where there were then only a few persons, such as Hadji-ahmed, his son the Governor, and myself; and finding the moment favourable, he brought the discourse upon himself and mentioned his intention, observing that he had now given up all his connections at Azim-abad, and wished to spend the remainder of his days in his uncle’s service, as he could no more bear to live in the Governor’s Court. The Viceory, who wanted to soothe his mind, answered with mildness, “that such was the complexion of the present times, that dissensions were arising between a son and his father, and enmities had been conceived by a brother against a brother; he added, that he had lived to see such things (he alluded in this to a very indecent dispute that had happened two or three days ago, between Sáid-ahmed-qhan and Hadji-ahmed, his father, upon a small object, in which himself (Aaly-verdy-qhan) had mediated a reconciliation). If such disagreeable quarrels and enmities can find their way amongst fathers and sons, continued he, and between brothers and brothers, where is the wonder that there should arise a dissatisfaction between you and Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan, who are sons only of two uncles?” Abdol-aaly-qhan answered coldly, that if quarrels should happen between brothers and children, he did not wonder at it, as they were co-heirs; but that he did not comprehend, why he, who was no more than a servant, should become the object of a quarrel? If I am fit for anything, added he, let me be kept on an honorable footing; and if I am not so, dismiss me at once, without wounding my delicacy with disagreeable expressions and odious reflections, which I cannot bear with any regard to my honour. What means such a letter as this, for instance? And who is that Kyret-chund, that such a pimp should be compared with, and even preferred, to me. At this expression, Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan took fire; his colour changed, and he said “that he would risk his life to defend the honour and character of a Kyret-chund.” He added, “that Kyret-chund was he, whose father’s slippers had been carried by the ancestors of every one; by all” (in this he alluded to this particular, that Kyret-chund’s father was Prime Minister or Divan to Shujah-qhan, and the fountain head of all preferment, at a time when Hadji-ahmed, and his younger brother, Aaly-verdy-qhan, made their appearance at that Court). Abdol-aaly-qhan answered coldly, “that as his father had never carried the slippers of any one’s father, he did not see why Kyret-chund should be a man of so much importance for him.” The conversation growing warm, the Viceroy interposed; by desiring Abdol-aaly-qhan to contain himself; and he added these words: Pray, friend, why do you become angry? Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan’s allusion refers to me. At these words of Aaly-verdy-qhan’s, the nephew held his tongue, and did not offer another syllable; and the dispute A sharp difference in the Viceroy’s family made up. subsided. A few days after, the Viceroy sent for his nephew in a private closet, and after having spoke to him, he desired his living upon good terms with Abdol-aaly-qhan; at the same time, he sent for the latter, and obtained of him as well as of the other, that they should embrace each other, and that their dissatisfaction should be brought to an end.
After this transaction, Aaly-verdy-qhan accompanied by his two nephews, and by Ata-ollah-qhan and Seradj-ed-döulah, decamped from Bankyp8r, and went to encamp at Nobut-p8r, without being able to find one single Marhatta by the way. In advancing farther, many screams were heard, and a moment after, it was found that the noise arose from some Marhatta troopers, who having fallen upon the baggage, had disappeared immediately with some plunder. The next day, having ranged his army in battle, and supported his flanks by artillery, he moved forwards; and it was remarked that there were not less than six persons in that army that enjoyed the honour of a kettle-drum, and no less than five, that were honoured with the insignia of the mahy or fish. The Commanders of the vanguard or the first line were Mir-djaafer-qhan, and Shimshir-qhan the Afghan; at his right was Ata-ollah-qhan and Serdar-qhan; at his left, Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan. The flank was put under the care of Sàyd-ahmed-qhan who was supported by Sheh-djehan-yar, and by Omer-qhan. Rahem-qhan was seated on the elephant that carried the Viceroy’s main standard; and that Prince was in the centre with a choice body of troops, commanded by Fakyr-ollah-beg-qhan, and N8r-ollah-beg-qhan, and some other officers of character. The army marched the whole night in that order of battle, eager to meet the enemies, and desirous of an engagement; but no enemy appeared. Only at day-break some of their horse were seen at a great distance from the reach of cannon, plundering some defenceless villages; and the victorious army continuing its march, arrived at the Ranie’s reservoir near Muhely-p8r, where it encamped. Rhago-dji happened to be encamped thereabout also, without ever suspecting that the enemy by a forced march would overtake him there. Mir-djaafer-qhan and Shimshir-qhan, who commanded the vanguard, and were the foremost, fell at once upon the enemy; and Rhago-dji surprised, but not dismayed, mounted immediately, without having time to range his army in battle; but he was directly surrounded by his guards; and the different corps of the Marhattas mounting successively, attacked the enemy in order to disengage their General. A furious engagement took place between Mir-Djaafer-qhan and them; and the combat became so serious, that a report ran unanimously, that Rhago-dji had never escaped, but for a neglect of Shimshir-qhan’s, or possibly by his treachery. In a little time the Viceroy himself came to the support of his troops, and the enemy was giving way. But whilst those two Commanders were engaged with a body of Marhattas, we who were with Abdol-aaly-qhan, were all engaged with another. That officer had only his brigade against some thousands of them; yet he stood his ground, until Medy-nessar-qhan mounted upon Sàyd-ahmed-qhan’s Engagement between the Bengal army, and the Marhattas. standard elephant, joined us with a body of troops. Here a deal of mutual slaughter ensued, and great things were intended, when night came on, and parted the combatants. The enemy giving way retired farther, and halted; and the Viceroy not choosing to advance in the dark, stayed where he was, and passed the night in a small tent provided for him, and for him only; for all the principal Commanders of the army, that is, his two nephews, and a very few others, took shelter under some trees; the rest of the army stood where it was; nor did any one know what had become of the baggage; nor did any one in so dark a night, choose to venture afar in quest of it. Some, more impatient than others, passed the whole night in inquiries, and filled the whole army with cries and tumult. Abdol-aaly-qhan, with the poor man and Allah-yar-qhan, half-brother to the Viceroy, and some other persons of distinction, passed the whole night watching in the Viceroy’s tent. At day-break the baggage was found in a neighbouring plain, abandoned by all, but untouched. The poor man’s baggage, as well as that of Abdol-aaly-qhan’s, was found also without a man to watch over it; but yet untouched. Every one having refreshed himself, the army marched again. The Viceroy offering battle every day to the enemy, and every day in vain, became tired of their backwardness, and he left the business to his officers, who would every day beat some party of the Marhattas, and always with loss to those ravagers. It was in those days that it appeared that the two Afghan Commanders were traitors in their heart, at least; it was then that Aaly-verdy-qhan conceived suspicions against them.
I remember that once being myself seated within the inner
apartment of the Navvab-begum, consort to Aaly-verdy-qhan, he
came himself unexpectedly, and having taken his seat, he seemed
grieved and thoughful. The Princess having reproached him for
that behaviour of his, and asked the meaning of his appearing
with so clouded an aspect, he answered in these words: I know
not what is the matter; but I find some uncommon appearance
amongst my people. The Princess anxious about her consort’s
disquietude, pitched upon two men of parts and character, and
sent them as from herself, and in her own name, to Rhago-dji.
The first was Muzzaffer-aaly-qhan-Bahadyr. The second was
Faky-aaly-qhan, son to Hadji-abdollah, called the writer or
historian, who had been Divan at B8rhanp8r in the times of the
Emperor Aoreng-zib. They had orders to procure a pacification
upon an equality, if they saw any overture for it. The envoys
having landed at Mir-Habib’s, who was the main supporter of all
Rhago-dji’s schemes, were introduced by him, and they delivered
their message. The Marhatta, who had been often vanquished,
and did not think himself a match for Aaly-verdy-qhan, was glad
of such a proposal; but Mir Habib, who was the Viceroy’s mortal
enemy, did not consent to it; and he turned Rhago-dji’s mind
intirely, advising him to avail himself of his superiority in horse
to give the enemy the slip, so as to arrive before him at M8rsh8d-abad,
where Nevazish-mahmed-qhan commanded without troops,
and where mighty things might be done. Rhago-dji relishing
the advice, took to the road of M8rsh8d-abad, and was immediately
followed by the Bengal army. But as part of the provisions
that followed it had been forsaken and lost some days ago,
and none were procured but by force and with dint of sabre,
victuals became dear in camp, and then scarce, and at last invisible;
the country round being so ruined, as to furnish none at
all. In addition to all those evils, the river Sohon having become
fordable, did not afford sufficient security to the boats that might
have brought provisions. It was in such a distressed condition
that Aaly-verdy-qhan continued his march along the Sohon; and
it was in one of these marches, that he was joined by two officers
of valour and renown, both in Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan’s service.
They were both covered with wounds. These were Mehta-djesvent-nagur,
and Mir-gh8lam-ashruff. They had both been detained
at Azim-abad for some urgent business; and when it was done,
they had resolved to join their master, and to prove thereby
their zeal and attachment to his service. Athough the roads
were scoured day and night by the enemy’s horse, and there
was no passing undiscovered, nevertheless without minding the
times, they had the imprudence to sally forth from the city, and
to advance towards the army with a small number of brave men
that chose to stand by them. But they did not go far; the Marhattas
having overtaken them, wanted to plunder and strip them;
and as they refused to submit to that indignity, they were surrounded
and attacked with spears and long swords; and a sharp
engagement took place, in which the enemy mixed contumelious
language with heavy blows. At last both those officers were
dangerously wounded, and both were felled to the ground; and
both were stripped, and their baggage was plundered and rifled.
Nor was it but some time after, that they recovered so far their
senses, as to arrive at the army, both naked, and both very much
wounded; the Gentoo officer in particular, having lost the whole
of his nose by a stroke of a sabre. It was over a country so
totally ruined that Aaly-verdy-qhan arrived at Azim-abad, where
having observed that Rhago-dji was hastening his march, he
quitted that city, to follow the enemy to Baghal-p8r, where
having advanced towards the river that runs by Champa-nagur,
a suburb of that town, he took shelter under some trees, from
whence he sent forwards the brigade he had with him, together
with most of the officers present; and these had orders to look
out for a proper encampment. Rhago-dji who was always well
informed, availed himself of that opportunity; and turning the
brigade, he suddenly made his appearance at the head of five or
six thousand horse. The Viceroy without betraying the least
perturbation or fear, assembled those about him, and they did
not amount to above six hundred persons of all sorts; and putting
himself at their head, he advanced to the enemy, and charged
vigorously. He had at that time with him an officer whom he
had lately retained in his service, and who in paying his respects,
had spoke very advantageously of himself, and required a great
deal of distinction. The Viceroy recollecting the circumstance,
now sent for Dost-mahmed-qhan, (for such was the man’s name)
“and he told him that this was the time to approve himself the
man he had pretended to be, and to shew himself worthy of
those distinctions, which he had claimed as his due.” The man,
without waiting for another word, put his horse on a gallop, and
spying a body of men that cut a better figure than the rest, (and,
in fact, it was Rhago-dji himself surrounded by his best mounted
Another
engagement,
in which Dost-mahmed-qhan
distinguishes
himself.
spearmen) he rushed amongst them, overthrew one man, killed
another, wounded a third, and seized a fourth, with which he
came back to Aaly-verdy-qhan, to whom he presented his prisoner,
and who loaded him with encomiums. By this time assistance
had come; and Rhago-dji being surrounded in his turn with
this body of horse, was amply regaled with everything which
musquets, sabres, and spears could afford; so that finding that
he could stand no more, he turned about, and fled. His troops
after having plundered some baggage, took to flight also. But
this action did not please Rhago-dji at all. Keeping the highroad
became unsuitable to his circumstances, as it was impossible but
the two armies would meet at last; and being unwilling to engage
any more, he gave the enemy the slip, with intention to be
beforehand with him about M8rsh8d-abad. The Marhatta therefore
moved from Baghal-p8r, struck to the right, and got into the
hilly country; and Aaly-verdy-qhan having wrote to his nephew
at the Capital to be upon his guard, advanced by forced marches;
and he was so lucky as to arrive at the city one day after the
arrival of Rhago-dji’s, who had already burned and sacked the
two suburbs of Chapàideh, and that called Mir-djaafer-qhan’s
garden. But on the Viceroy’s arrival, he did not think proper
to remain so near him. Decamping therefore immediately, he
wheeled towards the southern and western suburbs of the city.
The Viceroy having given three or four days’ rest to his army,
marched on through the outskirts of the city, and went to encamp
at Amany-gundj; from whence he advanced on the enemy,
and having overtaken him at the Ranie’s reservoir, close to Catwa,
there ensued a sharp engagement, in which such a slaughter was
made of the Marhattas, that Rhago-dji despaired of success; and
fearing the destruction of his whole army, he turned about, and
Battle of
Catwa, in
which the
Marhattas are
slaughtered.
fled so earnestly, that henceforward he avoided the open plain,
and availed himself of the skirts of the hilly country on the western
back of Bengal. Aaly-verdy-qhan continued pursuing without
ceasing; and Rhago-dji having consulted his Generals, it was
thought proper, as they had lost so many of their men in their
last engagement, to make the best of their way to their own
country, from whence they had received terrible news a few days
ago. Leaving therefore two or three thousand Marhatta horse, and
six or seven thousand Afghans, under the command of Mir-Habib,
the Marhatta Prince departed, very much humbled by the ill success
of his expedition; and news were coming one after another
that he intended to quit Bengal, until at last it was found he had
really quitted the very frontiers of it.
This campaign had an advantageous appearnce. The enemy had been beaten and expelled; but the army fatigued by such repeated campaigns, and exceeded with toil in the last, had grown tired of the war; and Aaly-verdy-qhan perceived that officers as well as soldiers were equally weary with himself. He wanted himself some release from his toils, and wished to enjoy some rest, as having a variety of purposes in view. He intended to marry the sons of his several daughters, and to prepare necessaries for the ceremonies. He wanted to gain the hearts of the soldiery by Aaly-verdy-qhan tired of the war. affording them some release. He had some refractory Zemindars to bring to order. Lastly, the wish of his heart was to enjoy the nuptials of Seradj-ed-döula, and Ecram-ed-döulah, his two darling grandsons. All those objects required his presence in the city, to which he immediately returned; and first of all he applied himself to business, and especially to that of quieting the country, and affording some relief to the wearied husbandman. He next turned his views towards refitting the necessaries of war, and promoting his officers according to their merits. Dost-mahmed-qhan, that officer who had continued to distinguish himself in the late campaign, and was now rising up to that favour which he enjoyed in its height some years after, was promoted to the command of a brigade, and complimented with many favours; as did Mir-cazem-qhan, who was also promoted to the command of a brigade; this officer enjoyed already the title of Bahadyr or valiant, and had distinguished himself eminently. These two officers having conceived an affection for each other, marched together, attacked together, and were performing together heroical actions in imitation of each other. Their characters rising daily in the estimation of the public, as well as their mutual attachment to each other, they came at last to be the most renowned Commanders in the Bengal army; and it must be acknowledged, that they were both officers of inestimable merit; and that whenever an opportunity offered, they did not fail to perform such valorous actions, as acquired them the admiration of their brother officers, and the applause of the public, in bestowing which both enemies and friends became unanimous.
We have already mentioned that in the engagement with Rhago-dij at the Ranie’s reservoir Shimshir-qhan had suffered him to escape; and that a little after, indices of defection and treason had appeared in the behaviour of two of Aaly-verdy-qhan’s principal Commanders, namely, the Afghans Shimshir-qhan and Serdar-qhan. Such a discovery could not but impress the Viceroy with sorrow and inquietude, especially with regard to the latter. In the sequel there appeared some further indices, and something like a concert between these two Commanders and the Marhattas. So many extraordinary proceedings of theirs which hitherto had appeared unaccountable, were now ascribed to that cause, in so much that their master had long ago ceased to repose any confidence in them. The principal of those indices appeared on the following occasion: On Rhago-dij’s arrival in the environs of M8rsh8d-abad, and even whilst he was encamped in the Birbohum, the rains were drawing to their end, and the entrance of the river Bagraty becoming fordable, the boats which used to come laden with provisions, had ceased to come directly to the city, and were Treachery of the Afghans in the Bengal army. obliged to land them at Bagvangolah, at six or seven cosses’ distance, from whence only they could be brought over a tract of land; and as the road was infested with perpetual parties of the enemy’s, the provisions could not come up, unless escorted by Commanders of character and trust. It was for these reasons that the Viceroy, who remained at Amany-gundj, on the southern side of the city, appointed the two Afghan officers to escort the provisions, and to keep the road clear of the enemy’s incursions; but this precaution did not prevent the provisions and oxen from being several times plundered and seized. So many miscarriages having raised a suspicion in the Viceroy’s mind, he appointed his own nephew, Sàyd-ahmed-qhan, to take care of the safety of the roads; and this service having been effectually performed, the former miscarriages recurred to his mind, and were attributed to a want of fidelity; and the suspicions being confirmed by subsequent proceedings of theirs, that had been hitherto doubtful, cautions were given to his most trusty Commanders to beware of them, and to be on the watch. It was conjectured now that the neglect of which those two Commanders were guilty, and the undutiful behaviour for which they had been remarkable, were fomented by connections with Rhago-dji; and even some shrewd persons affirmed that the Marhatta had gained over to his party, on one hand, Ata-ollah-qhan, on promise of bestowing upon him the Government of Azim-abad, when it should be conquered; and on the other, had attached to his interest the two Afghan Commanders by a promise of a lac of rupees in money, with the command of twelve thousand horse, if they could manage so as make away with Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan, the Governor of the province; and in case the city of Azim-abad should be taken by their means, they were to have two lacs of rupees more, and the Fodjdary of Derbanga, over and above the command of the twelve thousand horse promised. Letters were passing likewise between the two parties. Others, however, were of opinion, that those two men being ambitious, and at the head of a great force, had of themselves conceived aspiring thoughts of dominion, and had applied to the Marhatta General for his support. Be it as it may, these two Commanders, either because they resigned of themselves the service, or because indices of a malevolent disposition had been perceived in their conduct, were both dismissed about the year 1159.
It was in this same year, and at the beginning of the rains, Aaly-verdy-qhan celebrates the nuptials of his two grandsons, Seradj-ed-döulah and Ecram-ed-döulah. that Aaly-verdy-qhan assembled his relations and friends of Azim-abad, to celebrate the nuptials of his favourite grandsons, Seradj-ed-döulah and Ecram-ed-döulah. Hadji-ahmed, their paternal grandfather, had for some particular reasons excused himself, and did not come to the feast; but Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan and Abdol-aaly-qhan arrived with their consorts, families, and dependants. The nuptials were celebrated with the utmost pomp and magnificence. The feast commenced by the nuptials of Ecram-ed-döulah, the younger brother. The reason was, that Ata-ollah-qhan’s daughter, the virgin that had been betrothed to Seradj-ed-döulah, had died two or three years before; and it was intended by marrying Ecram-ed-döulah first, to another daughter of that nobleman’s, to console and oblige Rabiah-begum, their mother, a Princess who was niece to Aaly-verdy-qhan, as well as consort to Ata-ollah-qhan. One thousand Qhylaats were bestowed on that occasion on the Viceroy’s relations, kinsmen, friends, favourite Commanders, and household servants; and two thousand more on occasion of Seradj-ed-döulah’s nuptials; nor was any one of those below a hundred rupees; and numbers were of a thousand, and several more above that sum. Several persons of high distinction were besides complimented with jewels according to their respective rank and station; and for a month together or more there was a continual feasting, and a continual series of entertainments at the palace of Aaly-verdy-qhan, and that of his eldest nephew and son-in-law, Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, where all comers were received without exception; nor was there a family or middling or low in the city that did not partake of the festivity, by receiving several times tables of dressed victuals, called in India T8rrahs; nor did any one of those T8rrahs cost less than twenty-five rupees, and some did cost a great deal more; and thousands and thousands of such prepared T8rrahs or entertainments were sent all over the city to every Mussulman’s house. There is no describing the illuminations, feux de joyes, and the artificial fires that seemed to have set both heaven and earth in a blaze, and to have given the inhabitants of M8rsh8d-abad an idea of the Garden of Arem.\(3\) It was in this time of public and private festivity, that Sàyd-ahmed-qhan, second nephew and son-in-law to Aaly-verdy-qhan, married his own daughter to Fahr-eddin-hussëin-qhan, son to Sèif-qhan, to whom she had been betrothed; and as that young nobleman, in consequence of the Government and riches hereditary in his own family, was extremely wealthy and oppulent, and had made preparatives equal to those of Aaly-verdy-qhan himself; Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, who enjoyed high offices and dignities, and was nephew to the reigning Prince, felt himself fired with emulation in such a manner, as not to betray the least inferiority in his expense. In this manner the three nuptials were celebrated with equal magnificence and pomp. By one of those accidents that disconcert the best laid schemes of men, the virgin, three days after her being carried by the bridegroom to his home, which day is always dedicated to bathing, and is called Chöuty,\(4\) died suddenly, a death that amazed all the world, and was ascribed by many to a variety of causes, the most probable of which was then reputed to be an indigestion. Some ascribed it to the practices of one of the father’s favourite women, who took umbrage at the profusion of presents made to the bride. Be it as it will, the bridegroom who if he had acted prudently and moderately, would in all probability have been complimented with another daughter, unaccountably gave way to his suspicions and resentment, and took it into his head that they would make away with him likewise, and that the tragedy was only at its commencement. He quitted M8rsh8d-abad without taking leave from any of these illustrious Princes with whom he had come to contract an alliance, and returned to P8rniah, a precipitation by which he dishonoured his character and family, whilst he rendered himself ridiculous by such a want of decorum.
But as we have so often mentioned Ata-ollah-qhan, the reader will not object to our giving here some account of that nobleman. Ata-olla-qhan was a near relation of Car-taleb-qhan, who was himself a cousin-german of Shudjah-qhan, once Viceroy of Bengal. On Aaly-verdy-qhan’s appointment to the Government of Azim-abad, Ata-ollah-qhan had been invested with the Government of Acbur-nugur-Radjemahl, in which office he remained for a length of years, with the grade of six thousand horse, and the command of as many effectual ones; he was also decorated with the insignia of a fringed Paleky and a kettle-drum, and with the titles of Yzaz-ed-döulah-bahadyr-Sabut-djung.\(5\) But we shall soon have occasion to mention him again in this history.
After the death of that daughter of his which had been
betrothed to Seradj-ed-döulah, that young Prince was married to a
daughter of Mirza-iredj-qhan’s, a nobleman whose history is in
Some account
of Mirza-iredj-
qhan, father-in-law
to Seradj-ed-döulah
few words as follows: His grandfather, Mustapha-c8ly-qhan, was
Divan or Prime Minister to, and in high favour and trust with,
Aazem-shah, son to Aorengzib; and so long as that Prince made
his residence at Ahmed-abad, being Viceroy of G8djrat, he was
after him the principal man in that kingdom, where he enjoyed the
highest offices and dignities. That nobleman had three sons:
Acbar-c8ly-qhan, (father to this Mirza-iredj-qhan) Shah-c8ly-qhan,
and Mirza-mahmed-naky; all three, noblemen of high rank and
character, and greatly esteemed, especially the two former.
Mustapha-c8ly-qhan dying in Azem-shah’s life-time, Shah-c8ly-qhan,
to whom that Prince had bestowed the command of the
artillery some days before his giving battle to his brother, Bahadyr-shah,
was found amongst the slain; and his elder brother, Acber-c8ly-qhan,
who had been appointed Governor of Baghal-p8r, repaired
to Bengal, where mindful of the cosequences of a change
of times, he lived with honor and credit during the whole of
Feroh-syur’s reign. His son, Mirza-iredj-qhan, attached himself
to the Séyds, and in particular to Hossëin-aaly-qhan, the youngest
of the two, with whom he was united in friendship, as well as
with Ghaáiret-aaly-qhan, cousin-german to Hossëin-aaly-qhan,
with whom he always appeared with splendour at Court. On
the catastrophe that befell the two Séyds he attached himself to
the famous Ser-b8lend-qhan, whom he accompanied into G8djrat,
being in high favour with that General. He parted with him,
however, and repaired to Bengal, where Shudjah-qhan, who knew
all his family, and had a high esteem from them all, took him near
his person, and always shewed him the utmost regard. He was
in the battle which Ser-efraz-qhan gave to Aaly-verdy-qhan at
Gheriah, where he lost his son, and where he was grievously
wounded. After this, he retired to his house at M8rsh8d-abad
without ever appearing at Court; but Aaly-verdy-qhan, who knew
his merit, sent for him, took him in his service, and constantly
shewed himself his friend and patron. He was much esteemed
in that Prince’s Court, and had particular connections with him;
and as that Prince was fully apprised of the eminent character of
all his ancestors, and he knew all the lustre of his family, he
proposed to him a match between his daughter and Seradj-ed-döulah,
to which Mirza-iredj-qhan consented. After the consummation
of the marriage, the Viceroy desirous to raise his new relation
to dignities and employments, bestowed upon him some of the
best Governments in Bengal, over and above the command of a
brigade; and it was this brigade that stood in arms whilst all
was festivity in M8rsh8d-abad, on account of Seradj-ed-döulah’s
wedding; and it was to him that orders were given to keep a
watchful eye upon the quarters of the suspected Afghan Commanders.
The weddings and festivities being over, Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan
and Abdol-aaly-qhan with their consorts and families,
took their leaves of the Viceroy and their noble relations, and
returned to their palaces and offices at Azim-abad. But as soon
as they were departed, the two Afghan Commanders, who figured
amongst the principal officers of the army, as being at the head
of six or seven thousand horse of their own nation, suddenly asked
and obtained leave to return to Derbanga, their native country;
and having received their arrears in full, they set out for Mongher,
from whence they crossed over in boats; and two months had
already elapsed since this departure, when Mir-aaly-ashgar-kobra,
who had been sent for by Ata-ollah-qhan on the fame of his
character, made his appearance at M8rsh8d-abad.
kobra.
This Mir-aaly-ashgar-kobra was a Séyd of the town of Fateh-p8r-sicri, in the province of Mevat, and had been in the service of the famous Emir-qhan, Viceroy of Illah-abad, who was himself son to another famous Emir-qhan, Viceroy of Cab8l. His father, Mir-gholam-ahmed, a very shrewd, and very wary man, was likewise famous for courage and personal prowess. His son, in his youth, attached himself to a Dervish or Fakir, that is a Friar, who took care to initiate him early into many practices and customs used amongst those sort of people; so that he became an adept in all their arts, and in all their ways of life; and now become himself a proficient, he returned into the world, where he endeavoured by spreading the net of saintship and of holiness, to acquire power and authority; in fact he catched many a fish, and many an idiot, rose into celebrity, and assumed the surname of Kobra, that is, the great. But he had forged out another surname for himself, and this was that of Maass8m-el-arefin, a strange title, the signification of which we must suppose he well knew. In his speeches to his idiot hearers, he made use of such a lofty style, that they thought him endowed with those celestial gifts and graces to which he laid a claim, and which he said had not been communicated to the most glorious Prophets and envoys.\(6\) But as he had introduced some new laws about what is lawful and unlawful, (for instance, he held it unlawful to eat hen’s eggs) some intelligent person asked why he had made them unlawful to his disciples? He answered, that he had never said such a thing; but only that for his own part he did not eat any. His followers had trumped up several strange stories about him; for instance, that he once fell into a well, and on his being enquired after, and searched for, he was found standing in the air, without touching the surface of the water. This miracle having been immediately rumoured abroad, about five or six hundred persons flocked to his lodgings, professed their belief in him, and had the honour to be admitted amongst his disciples. In his youth he had associated to himself a learned young man, with whom he used to retire into a corner, there to read in his presence, some books of grammar and astrology; and having thereby provided himself with store of scientific words in Arabic, he used to retail them to his starers-at with a deal of emphasis in his discourses. Some persons put questions to him about his knowledge in the sciences; and to these he used to give this answer: “Yes, I have learned them all in the school of the Most High, in company with my master’s sons; there did I make my acquisitions.” He alluded to the infused science which had been bestowed on the two handsome ones.\(7\) When in company with some new persons, he used to make use of such obscure ambiguous expressions, as made the by-standers suspect that he knew more than he would express; and that he had the gift of seeing into men’s hearts, and of guessing at their thoughts. In short, he was a shrewd, artificious, knowing man, who had found means with some of his disciples to be entertained in Emir-qhan’s house, where he had a pension. After that nobleman’s death, he had the good luck to be mentioned to Ata-ollah-qhan by a certain Vezir-qhan, an Afghan in his service; and that nobleman becoming desirous to see so extraordinary a personage, obtained Aaly-verdy-qhan’s leave to invite him over; and he sent him a great sum of money, desiring him to accept it for his charges, and to repair speedily to Bengal with all his people. The man on this invitation assumed all the insignia of grandeur, as the fringed Paleky, and the kettle-drum; and drawing together six or seven hundred horse, all of them his relations and disciples, besides a great multitude of other people, that followed on foot, he made his appearance in Azim-abad, with a retinue and a pomp that impressed every one with respect and awe. It was in the year Eleven Hundred and Sixty. After tarrying two or three days in the outskirt of the city, he continued his route to M8rsh8d-abad. In that short stay of his, he was visited by men of the highest distinction and rank, such as Hadji-ahmed, and Abdol-aaly-qhan, who hearing of his fame, and struck with his celestial gifts and celestial qualifications, flocked to see him; and he returned their visits with a great deal of composure. It is in Abdol-aaly-qhan’s house that, I, the poor man, had an opportunity to see him; and there I soon guessed by his actions and words what kind of personage he could be. But the many visits he had received from persons of high rank, and the singular respect with which he was treated, had rendered him so proud and assuming, that Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan, who was no less a man than the Governor-General of the Province, and a nephew of Aaly-verdy-qhan’s, having not thought it proper to pay him a visit, the man took offence, and spoke of it: a particular which the young Prince mentioned to his uncle in his letters; whilst on the other hand, Hadji-ahmed wrote to his brother in high terms of him; and after having said that the Lord Séyd was this, and that,\(8\) he added, that he was nothing inferior to Mustapha-qhan.
Aaly-verdy-qhan’s thoughts were then engrossed by the affairs
of Oressa, where he found that the vanquished Marhattas, although
expelled from the frontiers of Bengal, had taken shelter, together
with many of the dismissed troops of Shimshir-qhan’s and Serdar-qhan’s;
and as same the departure of Abdol-res8l-qhan, and
D8lobram’s imprisonment, there had not been any person of consequence
and authority in those parts, he resolved to send thither
Mir-djaafer-qhan with such a number of troops as the occasion
required. On this principle, he gave the supreme Government of
the Oressa to his son-in-law, Sàyd-ahmed-qhan; but appointed
Mir-djaafer-qhan to be his Nàib, or deputy in that province, complementing
him at the same time with the two Fodjdaries of Midnip8r
and Hedjly, over and above the office of Paymaster-General, which
he enjoyed these many years already. This new appointment was
conferred upon him in a public audience, where he was honoured
with a rich Qhylaat, an elephant, a horse, a sabre, and a poniard,
with a serpich, and a Djica of jewels; after which ceremony, he
was complimented with another set of jewels, elephants, and other
presents by Sàyd-ahmed-qhan, the Governor-General, as from
himself. These appointments being over, that General deputed
Mir-Ismàil, son to his maternal uncle, to act as his agent at Court,
and likewise, as his substitute in the Paymaster’s office; and he
sent a gentleman called Sudjan-sing to govern, as his deputy, in
the District of Hedjly. After these regulations, Mir-djaafer-qhan
departed for Catec at the head of seven thousand horse, and
twelve thousand foot; and in several days’ march, he met in the
territory of Midnip8r, a body of Marhattas and Afghans whom
he defeated. The Marhattas fled to Djalisser whither they were
pursued by Mir-djaafer-qhan, who encamped on this side of the
Kehnasa river, taking up his quarters on its banks; but without
daring however to cross it, being intimidated by a report of some
new troops of Marhattas which were to come from the Oressa.
In a few days more another report ran that Djano-dji, son to
Rhago-dji, was coming into that province with a numerous army.
This intelligence frightened Mir-djaafer-qhan. He suddenly decamped
from his post; and without leave from Aaly-verdy-qhan,
without even sending him advice, he marched back, and took
shelter in Bardevan; and all this with so much precipitation, that
Djano-dji’s vanguard, that pursued briskly, could only overtake
some elephants and some baggage of his, in his rear. This young
Prince was encouraged by Mir-djaafer-qhan’s timidity, and he kept
pursuing him for some time, to the surprise of all who knew that
General to be at the head of sixteen or seventeen thousand men.
Notwithstanding such a force, he retreated far off, without first
ascertaining whether he was really inferior; and without having
perviously tried the expedient of spears and swords. But Aaly-verdy-qhan
who was perfectly informed of the state of things,
sent beforehand Ata-ollah-qhan to the fugitive’s assistance, with
a body of troops; and it was at this conjuncture that Mir-aaly-ashgar
arrived at M8rsh8d-abad. However as Ata-ollah-qhan, on
whose invitation he had come over, was already gone, he did not
think it proper to pay his respects to the Prince, in that absence;
but taking his route by the outskirts of the city, he went, and
joined his patron with what troops he had brought with him. Ata-ollah-qhan,
who on Vezir-qhan’s narrative, had become a greater
admirer of Mir-aaly-ashgar’s, than the Afghan was himself, had
no sooner beheld the man, and seen the many tricks with which
he used to entrap the sots, than he became enamoured with him;
and giving him his confidence, he carried him to Bardevan, where
Mir-djaafer-qhan was arriving on his side. Djano-dji who had Mir-habib
with him, and a numerous army of Marhattas and Afghans,
finding Aaly-verdy-qhan absent, attacked the two Commanders;
and a sharp engagement took place, in which Ata-ollah-qhan
distinguished himself greatly; but none so much as the new comer,
Mir-aaly-ashgar-cobra, who at the head of his brigade, composed
Mir-djaafer-qhan
and Ata-ollah-qhan
conspire
against the
Viceroy.
of men of his family or of such as were his disciples, pushed
forwards with so much bravery and conduct, as deserved the
encomiums of both friends and foes. But he was a man of projects
as well as of heroical courage; and he inspired his protector with
such ambitious views, that the latter finding himself at a distance
from his master’s sight, and giddy with the fumes of his high command,
as well as elated with the little success he had had against
the Marhattas, thought himself a man of importance; and he conceived
the project of associating with Mir-djaafer-qhan, and making
use of his assistance to entrap and kill Aaly-verdy-qhan, whenever
he should come to his support; after which performance he
intended to assume the Government. All this was imparted to
Mir-djaafer-qhan by the medium of one Mir-mogholy-qhan, a light
headed foolish man, who was deeply rooted in that General’s
confidence; and the latter, in the natural supineness and carelessness
of his temper, gave into the scheme, and agreed that after the
intended revolution, himself should take possession of the Bahar
and of Azim-abad; and Ata-ollah-qhan, of Bengal. But so many
practices and parleys could not long remain a secret, and as soon as
this partition-treaty came to the knowledge of Mir-abdol-aziz and
of some others of Mir-djaafer-qhan’s friends, it was opposed with
all their might, and their reasons made such a strong impression on
that General’s mind that he repented of his mischievous scheme.
So that his favourite, Mir-mogholy-qhan, fearing the consequences
of what he had advised, quitted his service, and fled for his life.
By this time Aaly-verdy-qhan, who had got intelligence of the whole matter, was arrived with his army close to his two Generals, against whom he was highly incensed. Mir-djaafer-qhan immediately went to pay his respects, and was sharply reprimanded for his behaviour against the Marhattas, and for his precipitate retreat; after which he was dismissed to his quarters. But the General took so much offence at the bitter expressions made use of on that occasion, that he abstained from going to Court. As to Aata-ollah-qhan, the Viceroy thought better to gain his heart; and by way of complimenting him upon his success, he went to make him a visit, intending also to do him honour, by so unusual a condescendence, and to raise the man’s character. And it was there that Mir-aaly-ashgar-kobra had an opportunity of paying his respects to the Viceroy for the first time. Here it was observed of Ata-ollah-qhan, that he received this visit in an extraordinary manner, that did not become those relations of servant and Lord which subsisted between himself and his master; so that the Viceroy after some conversation got up and retired, highly displeased at what he had seen; but still resolved to stifle his resentment. On his return home, he received a petition from Ata-ollah-qhan, requesting that Mir-aaly-ashgar-kobra might be admitted into the service of His Highness at the head of a thousand horse, that should serve in Ata-olla-qhan’s brigade. The Viceroy, without betraying what he thought of the man, contented himself with writing at the bottom of the paper these words: “Do you take him in your own pay, if you will; but I cannot afford to add any more to your brigade.” Mir-kobra informed of this answer, took it ill, and wanted to quit the army directly; and this discontent affecting his patron, the latter took occasion to observe to the Viceroy, that should the Lord Sëyd come to quit the army, he should be necessitated to quit it himself. He was answered: That shall be just as you please. Ata-ollah-qhan, to whom Mir-kobra had promised as by a revelation from above, the possession of Bengal; and who had been so simple as to take that promise by way of bond, under the inspired impostor’s handwriting, and also so senseless as to believe it equally authentic with any revelation in the world; no sooner heard those words, than he quitted the army without giving himself one moment of delay; he took Mir-kobra with him, and retired to his house of M8rsh8d-abad. At this very time one of Mir-djaafer-qhan’s kinsmen having departed this life, the Viceroy conceived the scheme of regaining that General’s affection, by paying him a visit, under pretence of joining in the ṛitual prayers, that were to be pronounced over the deceased. The General elated at finding himself at the head of six or seven thousand horse, and at being decorated with some of the insignia customary to importance and grandeur, forgot himself so far, as to omit the usual demonstrations of respect: such as advancing a great way out of the tent to receive the Prince at his alighting; bowing to him in a proper manner; addressing him in a respectful strain; and besides that, he was guilty of some attitude and expressions unbecoming an inferior. Aaly-verdy-qhan who had already become sensible by the General’s behaviour, of the levity and sillyness of his character, returned home; and under The conspiracy discovered and punished. pretence of auditing the account of his Government of Hedjly, he sent for Sudjan-sing, deputy to Mir-djaafer-qhan in that district, a man whose secrecy was of all necessity to that General. Mir-djaafer-qhan answered: “That there was no sending for Sudjan-sing unless the Viceroy sent also for his (Mir-djaafer-qhan’s) head; and the order remained uncomplied with. The Viceroy shocked at an answer so extravagant, ordered Sëyd-mahmed, one of his Yessàols or Mace-bearers\(9\), to take some men with himself, and to bring Sudjan-sing by force. The Mace-bearer, who was a man of a peevish, violent temper, no sooner received the order, than he went to Mir-djaafer-qhan’s, and after having spoke roughly to him, he laid hold of Sudjan-sing by the hand, and brought him to his master. The latter for reasons of policy, bestowed the Fodjdary of Hedjly on Sudjan-sing himself, for the present, and the Paymaster’s office, on N8r-ollah-beg-qhan; and after having mulcted the General in those two lucrative employments, he also broke the Brigade which the latter commanded. An order of the new Paymaster’s office came out importing that whoever wanted to be inlisted, might enter into Seradj-ed-döulah’s Brigade, or get himself inscribed in the corps immediately paid by the Viceroy’s military chest. On the publication of this order, the troops of Mir-djaafer-qhan’s Brigade quitted him to a very few men; and that General finding himself alone on a sudden, thought proper to abate much of his high notions of himself. The fumes of pride that had shot up into his brain, and had obscured his understanding, subsided at once; and confounded as well as humbled, and even ashamed to shew his face, he quitted the army, and repaired to M8rsh8d-abad, where he threw himself into the arms of Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, for protection. It was at this very time, I, the poor man, arrived from Patna; and as I went often to this Prince’s palace, I had a full opportunity of learning all the above particulars.
But to return to the affairs of war, as soon as Aaly-verdy-qhan heard that Djano-dji was come into his neighbourhood with a numerous army of Marhattas and Afghans, he made haste to encounter them; and after a short march, he gave them battle, when the valorous of his army falling on the troops of Decan, with arrows thirsting after Marhatta blood, and with muskets vomiting fire and flames, made them drink plentifully of the wine of destruction, that flowed in torrents from their inflamed sabres; and having in this manner intoxicated vast numbers of them, they sent them to hell by shoals. Djano-dji, equally confounded and The Marhattas defeated a fourth time. overborne by the heavy blows of the Bengal troops, and now greatly crestfallen, resolved at last to recover his character, by quitting the enemy, and rushing upon the city of M8rsh8d-abad, which he expected to plunder in part at least; but he was so closely pursued, that he found no opportunity to accomplish his design. Obliged, therefore, to abandon his scheme with loss and shame, he took to the road of Midnip8r, always followed by the Bengal army, which he had no stomach to fight, and which did not allow him time to take breath. The Viceroy finding that the rainy season was at hand, returned to his capital, after having sent repeated orders to his son-in-law, Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, to banish Mir-kobra out of his dominions. That nobleman out of regard to Ata-ollah-qhan, had stayed the execution of the order; but the Viceroy being now near the city, wrote a sharp note to his deputy, informing him that he was now sending Rahem-qhan to see the man out of M8rsh8d-abad, or to bring him out of it by force, if the order should have failed of punctual execution. Ata-ollah-qhan hearing of the order, and of the character of the person dispatched to see it executed, sent for Mir-kobra; and after making him many presents, and giving a large sum of money for his charges, he expressed his regret and sorrow in a most extraordinary manner, and advised him to depart; but what looks singular, is that the impostor even in such an awful moment, had the impudence to put in his hand a paper under his seal and hand, by which he promised, as by a particular revelation from Heaven, that in two years’ time, he would be raised to the sovereignty of Bengal; after which he set out for his own country, very much humbled by the success of his journey. On his being arrived about Azim-abad, the Governor who had reasons to be dissatisfied with his conduct, sent him word that, as he had in his way to Bengal taken his route by the outskirts of the city, he must take the like circuit to return to his country. Unluckily for him, the lake which occupies all the western ground about that city, overflows all the environs in the rainy season; so that there remains no other road but through the markets and streets of Azim-abad itself. The man thunderstruck by that message, fell into the whirlpool of amazement and confusion; and he was at a loss what to do with himself; when Mehdy-nessar-qhan, taking pity of his situation, obtained that he should have leave to take his journey through the city. But his miseries were not over yet. Arrived at the river Sohon, he found Pahluvan-sing, the Zemindar, who with the Governor’s consent, had come on purpose to stripe him. The man humbled to the dust by the wretchedness of his situation, applied again to Mehdy-nessar-qhan; and by his intercession, and that of Hadji-ahmed and Abdol-aaly-qhan, he obtained an order to the Zemindar to let him pass with safety, and to furnish him with boats to cross the river. Moreover those two noble persons having asked leave of the Governor, sent jointly some of their troopers to see him safe out of the frontiers of the province.
Three months were already elapsed since his departure, and the season of rain was already over, when Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan conceived the scheme of becoming independent, as had done Mustapha-qhan, and of submitting his two brothers to his own power and influence. In his late journey to M8rsh8d-abad, he had cast a prying eye on the power and wealth of his two brothers, and on the Court of his uncle; and having reflected on the weakness of the two former, and on the old age of the latter, he had concluded that he would prove an overmatch for both. Full of this idea, he sent an agent to his uncle at a time when the cold season was setting in. The old Prince had come out of the city, and encamped at Amany-gundj, with intention to chase the Marhattas that had nestled themselves in the District of Midnip8r. The Governor Azim-abad aspires independence. The agent was one Mir-abdol-maaly, who had once been steward to Saadet-qhan, and lived now in Azim-abad, highly respected by the Governor. The purport of his speech was this: “That Shimshir-qhan and Serdar-qhan, the two dismissed Afghan Commanders, who on the supposition of their returning to live retired in their country of Deherbanga, had been suffered to repair quietly thither, were now inlisting vast numbers of their own countrymen, so far from dismissing those whom they had brought over from Bèngal with themselves. That to drive these people out of the province, was not without its difficulty; and to suffer them to fortify themselves in the heart of it, was highly impolitical, and full of danger. That, if His Highness should approve of the scheme, he thought that a middling way would be the safest, namely, that of attaching them to the service. For which purpose, he asked leave to retain those two officers with three thousand of their best horse; but that as the province of Azim-abad could not afford that additional expense, he submitted it to his pleasure, whether it might not be expedient to have the pay of those additional troops made disbursable by the treasury of Bengal.” This message seemed unwelcome to the Viceroy; and he appeared displeased with it at first. Nevertheless, he admitted the expediency of the scheme, as he saw some advantages likely to result from it, and he did not choose to disoblige his son-in-law. The envoy therefore having carried his point, returned to his master, with a very favourable answer to his request. And the Governor, being now at liberty to act, sent three persons of weight to invite the Afghans to take service with him. These were Aga-azimái, Taky-c8ly-qhan, and Mahmed-asker-qhan, now all three deceased; and it was by their channel that the whole negotiation was carried forwards. The envoys having gone over to Deherbanga, proferred their advantageous proposals to the two Commanders; and as these, on the other hand, had a mighty design of their own in their heads, the proposals were soon accepted; and soon reciprocal promises were confirmed by tremendous oaths on both sides. So that at the end of the month of Zilhidj in the year 1161—A.D. 1747, the Afghans marched down in great numbers towards the Ganga, and encamped over against the city of Azim-abad, where the The Governor takes the disbanded Afghans in his pay. Governor-General’s people as well as the citizens soon intermixed with them. They were commanded by four chiefs; Shimshir-qhan; his nephew, Morad-shir-qhan; and Serdar-qhan; and Baghshy-bó8liah. These four men pretended to be afraid of going to Court, where they apprehended some such fate might await them as that which had befallen both Abdol-kerim-qhan and Roshen-qhan in the beginning of the Viceroy’s administration, as well as that of his nephew’s. And as these apprehensions of theirs were not without foundation; and the Governor was not without some inquietude about their great numbers, and their being close to his capital; he went to make them a visit, his views being to shew how much confidence he reposed in their integrity, and how much he wished to dispel their apprehensions by so open a proceeding. This intention of his was sudden; nor did he impart it to any one; nor was he accompanied, as usual by his guards, or by any other troops, nor even by his household. He had with him only his younger son, Mirza-mehdy, and the poor man’s second brother, Sëyd-aaly-qhan, to whom the Prince had betrothed his daughter. He had also Mahmed-asker-qhan, his favourite; and getting upon one of those elegant boats of twenty or thirty oars, called Perendas,\(10\) he went to make a visit to Shimshir-qhan, whose tent was pitched on the other side of the river. That officer having descried his noble visitor from afar, came out of his tent, and received him at the landing place, where he made a profound bow, and presented his Nazur; after which he conducted him to his tent, made him sit in the Mesned, and after having made another bow, he went at some distance, and remained standing, as one in his service; nor would he sit down unless after repeated entreaties, and then only at a distance. A moment after M8rad-shir-qhan entered with some other officers; and in a moment the tent was thronged with Afghans that came to make their bows. M8rad-shir-qhan had his sabre in hand, as had all the others, and this was no more than conformable to the custom. However as soon as he was seated, he asked Shimshir-qhan whether he should fall on the Governor, immediately. This was in the Peshto language,\(11\) which is the vernacular tongue of the Afghans. Shimshir-qhan without uttering any answer, put his hand into his beard, as if to scratch himself, and shook his head very hard in token of disapprobation: and the sign was immediately understood. Séyd-aaly-qhan, my brother, who was present, told me all these particulars, on my return from Shah-djehan-abad. As to the Governor, he did not observe either the asking leave, or the sign of disapprobation; for fate had blinded him thoroughly. Shimshir-qhan a little after, produced in compliance with the custom, some horses and an elephant, for which he entreated his acceptance. The Governor excused himself, and getting up much to his own, and as he thought, much to their satisfaction, he commanded the Superintendent of the river to afford the Afghans as many boats as they should want, and to facilitate their passage; after which he returned to his palace. Boats were immediately brought, and numbers of Afghans being ferried over, they encamped at Djaafer-qhan’s garden, the chiefs passing first with their private retinues. The next day the Governor getting into his Paleky, almost alone, and without any other retinue, but two or three servants, went out of the city to look at them from Nedjm-eddin’s buildings. As soon as he was descried from afar Serdar-qhan marched up with his corps, and paid him his respects, which he did with a deal of cordiality; and indeed, it appeared afterwards, that he was not of the plot, and not so much as privy to it. For that officer being in the sequel on a visit to Shah-mahammed-zamin and Shah-rustem-aaly, openly disclaimed his knowing anything of the conspiracy. These were the principal Fakyrs or religious of those parts; two venerable personages, equally sincere and candid, and who had also the gift of knowing by intuition men’s innermost thoughts. That officer was heard to protest of his innocence, and to say that he knew nothing of the action intended by those two senseless impudent fellows, (for such was his expression) meaning thereby Shimshir-qhan and M8rad-shir-qhan; else, added he, I would have quitted their company, and abstained from their society. Now it is out of my power to part with them; and were I to do it, no man would believe me; moreover, my retreat would be attributed to cowardice and to unworthy motives. Out of a principle of honour, therefore, and out of regard to the name of Afghan, which they bear in common with me, I am obliged to stand by them; but it goes much against the grain.” These were Serdar-qhan’s expressions. But I have this anecdote from a person of weight and veracity, who has asserted that in fact, Serdar-qhan knew nothing of the plot; and that this was so far true, that the conspirators after having finished the Governor-General, intended likewise to fall upon that officer too, as upon an inimical man, whom it was proper to put out of the way before they should take possession of the country and Government. Be it as it will, at the end of the ten holy days of Muharrem, being the beginning of the year 1161, the conspirators resolved to go to the Governor’s palace, at a time when they knew that Mehdi-nessar-qhan, uncle to the poor man, an officer extremely trusted by the Governor-General, and sincerely attached to his person, was to repair to Seress and Cootombah, to bring to order the Zemindar of that country. And as most of the principal Commanders, like Qhadum-hassen-qhan and Ahmed-qhan-corèishy, and some other men of note, together with Radja Sunder-sing, Zemindar of Ticary, were under orders to attend him in that expedition, they were all absent from Court; and by a strange fatality, even those that might have attended, could not go thither, as the Governor to shew his thorough confidence in the Afghans, and his intire freedom from any designs that might give them umbrage, had sent the preceding day a Circular Order throughout the city, that no officer, no soldier, and no military man, should attend on the day appointed to receive the obeysance of the Afghans: a strange order indeed, so contrary to order, so opposite to the ordinary rules of decence, and which had never been issued, had not the unfortunate man been actually under the impulse of an inevitable destiny, that had blinded his understanding, and made him give precise orders for the very measures which were to operate his ruin. For so far was he from being deficient in intellects, that it may be said that having taken his uncle for his model and pattern, he had added that accession of keenness and judgment to his own stock of good sense and penetration; in so much that he seemed to have gone in those two qualities some degrees even beyond his prototype. It was myself absent at this very conjuncture, having been for a length of time abroad to pay my respects to my glorious father, who had received from Ghazy-eddin-qhan, (son to Nizam-el-mulk) the Government of Berheily and of some other neighbouring districts, that were of his Djaghir; and as he was not there, I advanced two or three stages farther; when by one of those singular events, that seem unaccountable to-day, I heard a voice which mentioned that Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan had been killed by Shimshir-qhan. I was alone. It was noon-day; nor could I discover any speaker either far or near; and this happened the very day he was killed. But the day after, as some wounded men whom I knew to belong to the Superintendent of Bodjp8r, chanced to come to Merli about Ghazip8r, I heard them say positively that the unfortunate Governor was killed, and that the Fodjdar of Shah-abad had been plundered by the Zemindars of those parts, who did not fail to avail themselves of the confusion that followed that nobleman’s death to commit their accustomed disorders. This event happened in the following manner:—
Shimshir-qhan and Serder-qhan, one day before the intended one, came with their people and paid their obeysance to the Governor by whom they were dismissed, each with a Biry of Paan\(12\) according to custom. The second day, which was the day appointed, the Governor, early in the morning, went and seated himself in the Chehel-s8t8n,\(13\) a building for which he had a predilection, it being founded and built by himself. He had with him Mahmed-asker-qhan, one of his favourites, who had been so useful in the negotiation with the Afghans; he had also, Mir-morteza; and Mir-beder-el-dehy, together with M8rlydur the head-spy, and Ramzani, the keeper of his arm-office, a man who had been originally a butcher. There was also one Sytaram, Comptroller of the light train of artillery, and agent to Qhadum-hassen-qhan. All these were seated; and numbers of mace-bearers and menial servants and footmen, were standing, with the Governor’s slave-boys. All these stood facing their master, as usual, and were there only likewise to augment the pomp of the solemnity. There were some others; and such were Mir-abdollah of the Royal race of the Seffies, who was one of the principal persons of Azim-abad, and enjoyed a small portion of land hereditary in his family by way of Altumgha; and Shah-Bendeghy, one of the principal Religious of the city, who resided in Djaafer-qhan’s garden, and had in his dwelling an impression of the holy foot\(14\). There were two or three persons more of that distinction, and two or three more that had come to pay their respects; for instance Mahtab-ráy, a Cahtry’s\(15\) son, who had been bred by Mahmed-asker-qhan, and was now attending his benefactor. He was sitting behind the Governor, and close to him, but unarmed like all the others; nor had any one of them a sabre in his hand, although it is so customary; and some had not even a poniard, although it is always worn as a part of a full dress; and this was the case with Mahmed-asker-qhan, Mir-m8rteza, Mir-beder-el-dehy; and M8rlydur; nor had one of them even a cattary in their girdles.\(16\) Only Ramzani held in its scabbard according to custom, his master’s long sword;\(17\) and he was standing behind him. Radja Ram-naráin with some M8tusuddies or Penmen, belonging to the Accomptant-office, was in a room apart, about the Moonshy-qhana or Secretary’s office. At forty or fifty yards from the Chehel-s8t8n, towards the east, in face of the Governor’s, but at a distance from him, stood Ynàiet-bhày-djan, who had been in times of yore steward to my father of glorious memory, and held actually the like office in the Governor’s household. And now the Afghans drawing near, Backshy-bö8liah came in first, with about a thousand men, who had their muskets loaded and primed, and their matches lighted. He with his people made a profound bow from a great distance, according to custom, and then bidding them range themselves on one side close to the wall, he with a few men of note in his corps, advanced nearer, but still at a distance, and made his second bow; after which he approached in a respectful manner, and presented his Nuzur and theirs. After him came that wretched M8rad-shir-qhan with five hundred Afghans armed and accoutred at all points, as well as covered with thick quilted coats. They all bowed from afar, and ranged themselves on the other side of the yard, fronting the former troops; whilst M8rad-shir-qhan moving forwards with a few of the most distinguished men of his corps, made his bow, and presented his Nuzur and theirs in the most respectful manner; after which he stood over against the Governor, and mentioned the names of those whose Nuzurs had been just received. Whilst he was speaking, the Governor-General asked where was Shimshir-qhan; and he was answered both by the speaker, and by some harcarrahs and messengers, that he was coming, as they had seen him mounted; and that he would be here in a little while. At this moment Shimshir-qhan himself was arrived at the C8tval’s Chab8trah or tribunal, where getting into his Paleky, he was surrounded by his Afghans, who could not be less than three or four thousand men, and had all dismounted, marching on foot with a slow, composed pace, but all armed and ready at all points. Their numbers were such, that the main street, as far as the castle gate, and eastern city gate, was filled with these miscreants. Shimshir-qhan’s arrival being announced, M8rad-shir-qhan dismissed this people out of the Chehel-s8t8n, to make room for others. On hearing these words they approached the Governor in crowds, and were receiving each their Biry of dismission,\(18\) until it came to be one Abdol-reshid-qhan’s turn to receive it. As it had been agreed amongst them, that this man should give the first blow, his hand happened to tremble, and his Biry of Paan fell to the ground. The Governor smiled at the accident, and mildly said, I suppose this Paan was not in your destiny; but here is another. Upon which he stopped to The Governor of Azim-abad murdered by the Afghans. look at the Paan-dan, or plate containing the Biries of Pann; and whilst he was taking another, that wretched drawing his cattary, made at the unfortunate man’s side; but as his hand was shaking, the blow had no effect. At sight of this, Mahmed-asker-qhan, who sat close to the Governor, screamed out: Traitor! What treason is this? And meanwhile the Governor raising his head to see what was the matter, and putting his hand to a sabre that was before him, as is customary, the wretched had time to draw his own sabre, and to give him such a violent blow, as cleft him from the shoulder down to the stomach, cutting down as far as the navel. Instantly the Prince fell dead on the pillow at his back. After this, the wretched or some one like himself, cut the Prince’s head as well as his right foot, and lodged them in his cleft stomach; doubtless thinking he was doing some fine action, or more probably, he was persuaded that this would operate like a charm upon his uncle and relations, and prevent their ever taking their revenge on him. Mir-m8rteza hearing the tumult, and thinking the Prince only wounded, ran to him and covered him with his body; but he was hacked to pieces in an instant. Mahmed-asker-qhan laid hold of the Prince’s sabre,\(19\) and after having defended himself sometime, was cut down. Mahtab-ráy having received a wound that left his side quite open, seated himself down, and taking the head of his murdered patron on his lap, he expired in that posture. Padeshah-nevaz-qhan, a Mansubdar, and a nobleman of great rank, who had been a man of great consequence and power in Fahqr-eddöulah’s Government, and was now commencing an acquaintance with the Governor, having just got up in this tumult, was immediately dispatched by those ruffians. Ramzany, the Daroga or Superintendent, who with the long sword of his master’s in his hand stood over against him, unsheathed it instantly; and being joined by Sitaram, the clerk, who took up another sword, they both rushed amongst thousands of Afghans, and after having fought with a strength and fidelity that did them honour, they both fell together, and together departed for the other world, where they arrived with a rosy face, and a glorious countenance. M8rlidur, and Mir-beder-el-dehy, with both their hands wounded, found means to escape from that scene of slaughter and confusion. Ram-naráin, and some other penmen, after having been stripped to the skin, were suffered to depart, some wounded, some not. Mir-abdollah himself could not escape the hands of those murderers, but after having parted with his Cattary, his Camur-bund or girdle, and his Shawl, which he threw amongst them. Shah-bendeghy was killed on the spot; the rest fled, every one as his mind could prompt him. The doorkeepers of the Seraglio seeing how matters went, quitted their stations, and fled every one to their own homes. Séyd-aaly-qhan, my youngest brother, who was then in the library, and getting ready with his masters and teachers to wait on the Governor who had sent for him, hearing the tumult and screams, was at a loss what to do with himself. His masters threw him into the women’s apartment, and dispersed immediately. In such a scene of confusion and dismay, Amina-begum, daughter of Aaly-verdy-qhan, and consort to the murdered Prince, had the presence of mind to order the gates of the Zenana or women’s apartment to be shut up; and getting Séyd-aaly-qhan upon the terrace of the building, which was contiguous to Shahamet-djung’s house, she bade him provide for himself just as he could, but by all means to find his way to the house of his uncle, Abdol-aaly-qhan; and unfortunately it happened that Abdol-aaly-qhan himself was gone on a visit to Sheh-abdol-ress8l-belgrami, an ancient Commander of character, who had served with honour under Ser-b8lend-qhan, and who having taken his leave from Aaly-verdy-qhan, was now returning to his own country. By a particular providence this gallant man, on passing by, spied a boy with a turbant of cloth of gold upon his head, who was staring in the street, and seemed much at a loss what to do with himself. He stopped short, and having recollected who he was, he was moved with pity, and throwing away the boy’s showy turbant, he put upon him some old clothes, with an old dirty blanket, and in that condition he took him along the water-side and carried him to Abdol-aaly-qhan’s house: an action by which he rendered an important service to the boy’s father and mother, as well as to all his relations.
Shimshir-qhan after having tarried awhile in that spot, sent order to Haiàt-qhan to bring Hadji-ahmed, father to the murdered Prince. That officer had already been sent to him, as if upon a visit; and he was there, when the order came. The Hadji on hearing of the order, was confounded and thunderstruck; but yet he would have escaped upon some good horse, and would have taken shelter at Radja Sunder-sing’s or in some other place of safety, had he not been withheld by an attachment to his money, and to his women, and above all, had he not been kept back by the force of a destiny which blinded him intirely. Whilst the satellites were breaking open his gate, he escaped by a breach in his wall, and went to a neighbouring house, where he was found at last, and confined; and for seventeen days together he underwent a variety of supplices inflicted upon him to oblige him to a discovery of his riches. So that they took from a secret part of his house, where he kept an impression of the sacred foot, about seventy lacs buried underground; and continuing to torment him, and to extort confessions, they got from him besides that sum, a great quantity of jewels and uncoined gold, which were buried in divers parts of his house; and yet from the house of his son, the Governor, they could get no more than about three lacs, as the report goes, and very little from all the houses of his murdered friends; the utmost they could get from each family, not amounting to more than a few thousand rupees a piece. At least this is as much as is come to the public knowledge. Hadji-ahmed spent with a variety of tortures, expired at the end of sixteen or seventeen days; and he was buried close to the Samelp8r quarter on the water side, a few paces beyond Djaafer-qhan’s garden; and it was in such a tomb as fell to his lot. After this, a guard was sent to the houses of both by Shimshir-qhan, who went and took up his residence in Djaafer-qhan’s garden, (leaving M8rad-shir-qhan to command in the city) his intention being to fight Aaly-verdy-qhan, who was reported to be coming. This intelligence made him spend his money and favours with an unsparing hand. He wrote everywhere to his countrymen, inviting them to come to his assistance; and it happened by a particular dispensation of Providence, that Afghans seemed that year to shoot up out of the ground like so many blades of grass. For it was at that very time that Ahmed-abdaly, the Afghan Monarch, had brought from his dominions of Herat and Candahar\(20\) an army of seventy thousand horse against Shah-djehan-abad; and about the same time, and whilst people were in daily expectations of that Prince’s arrival, Aaly-mahmed-rohilla, another Afghan, had quitted Serhend, where he commanded; and cutting his way through Soharen-p8r, he had come to Berhéily, where he had put everything in combustion. So that all India being now in arms, and every part of it full of Afghans, not a day passed, but the inhabitants of Azim-abad had their attention roused, and their fears awakened five or six times a day, by the sound of the Nagara or kettle-drum; and on inquiry it was always found that this was occasioned by some Afghan Commander who was coming to Shimshir-qhan’s assistance with so many men.
During all this time the city was a prey to all the horrors of sack and plunder. That General’s people as well as those of Bacshy-bö8liah’s, being restrained by no discipline, nor overawed by any constraint, spread throughout every quarter of that unfortunate city, where not a day passed without some houses undergoing all the horrors of violence and defilement. Dishonouring whole families became familiar; and few houses, and few persons did escape the defiling hands of an unbridled soldiery, and the infamous practices of that nation of miscreants.
But let us draw a veil upon all those infamies, and let us look out for Abdol-aaly-qhan, to whose house we have carried his nephew then a boy. That officer after having thought it expedient The Afghans spread throughout the city, which they sack and plunder. to pass the whole day in Sheh-abdol-ress8l’s house, was now (and it was night) retiring to his own lodgings on the water-side, where he had ready a number of boats for his baggage, together with one of those commodious vessels, called Badjaras, for his own person and family. All these were manned and ready; and the head boatman advised and intreated him to avail himself of the night to get in the boats with his family and effects; promising that “before the enemy could know precisely where he might be, he could carry him to thirty cosses distance, where he would not be overtaken, and where he might take what resolution he should judge proper.” He added, “that the city resembling now a place taken by assault, and given up to sack and plunder, the Afghans were not thoroughly acknowledged in it, yet.” And really this was the best resolution that could be taken; but Fate had determined it otherwise. Nor is it uncommon to see every day people who overwhelmed by the force of their destiny, neglect the most obvious means, in order to addict themselves to far fetched schemes and whimseys, and to expose themselves to mighty dangers, which it was in their power to have escaped. In one word, he chose to stay at home. After a few days, M8rad-shir-qhan having been appointed Superintendent of the city, sent Abdol-aaly-qhan word, that he wanted to see him. That Commander on receiving the order, got into his Paleky immediately with his usual train, that is, with a number of horsemen, mace-bearers, soldiers and servants of all sorts, that preceded and followed him at all times; and being arrived at the Afghan’s lodgings, the soldiers of the guard desired him to leave his people and arms at the gate, and to go in only with two or three servants, unarmed. The officer concluding that had any ill usage been intended for him, he had not been sent for by a single messenger, complied with the request, and went in on foot; and that wretched of Afghan, no sooner saw him, than without paying any attention to his high rank, he gave his arms and things to be plundered by his soldiers, and then sent him only with two or three servants to Shimshir-qhan, in a Paleky of his own. This General hearing of this affair, got up just as he was, and running bare-footed out of his tent, he expressed the greatest concern at what had happened, and asked repeatedly pardon for the mistake. Sending at the same time for his Paleky, he requested his making use of it; and dismissed him to his home with every demonstration of honour and regard, appointing a guard of a few men to see that no insult should be offered to his dwelling or person. Sometime after he was obliged to alter his conduct; and hearing that his people vented their resentment in bitter reproaches, and likewise that Aaly-verdy-qhan was coming, he sent for him again, and got him confined in a tent close to his own. At last importuned by M8rad-shir-qhan, and by Mustapha-qhan’s son, he gave orders for his execution. Abdol-aaly-qhan was put in a boat, which was rowed to the other side of the river; and the satellites were going to put their order in execution, when that officer with his companion, Séyd-nevaz-qhan, being informed of their intention, requested just time enough to purify himself by a legal ablution, and to offer a short prayer, after which he would submit to their pleasure; but whilst they were performing their prayers, a controrder arrived, and they were carried back. A religious person of great weight, named Shah Sadyc, was the cause of the controrder. He became surety for Abdol-aaly-qhan’s peaceable behaviour, and he carried him to his home that very day; but it was under condition, that should Aaly-verdy-qhan come, the prisoner would keep himself quiet, without offering in either action or word any injury to the present Government. As to Mehdy-nessar-qhan, my other uncle, he was in Seress-Cotombah, a district where by his master’s order he had been expelling the Zemindar from his lands; but as soon as the news of the Governor-General’s death became public, the Zemindar came back with his people, and attacked him. Mehdy-nessar-qhan with the few people that remained with him, and the money he had collected, made his retreat good to Rhotas, where Aaly-qhan, the Governor, received him as his guest with every demonstration of honour and regard, and lodged him in the fortress. As for the poor man’s house, that is, my mother’s house, I thank God, that it was preserved from disgrace and plunder; and it was in the following manner: The first day it was preserved by the presence of an Afghan officer, who had served under the poor man’s father, and who that day abandoned the out-houses, but saved the audience-hall with the women’s apartment. The second day it was secured by a guard sent by Bahtaver-qhan, another Afghan Commander, who had long been in my father’s service, and in whose presence my father had torn several bonds of his, to the amount of ten or twelve thousand Rupees. Bahtaver-qhan, who was a man of authority, and of great credit with Shimshir-qhan, requested that General to bestow our house upon him as his share of the plunder. He at the same time expressed the great obligations he had received from my father; and also the many important favours likewise which he had conferred on Sheh-mahmed-selah, the Lacnovian, and on Caly-qhan the Belminian, two Commanders of character. Bahtaver-qhan, in requesting Séyd-hedàiet-aaly-qhan’s house to be spared, had once threatened to part with Shimshir-qhan, and to give advice to the Governor of the conspiracy. His request was complied with; and as Shimshir-qhan, God knows for what reason, had the highest regard for that officer, he promised him whatever he had asked. After the revolution, the three officers above took their quarters in the audience-hall, from whence they used to repair to the Derbar or Court of Shimshir-qhan; and whenever they heard that any Commander was marching towards our lodgings, they would assemble their people, whose number could not amount to less than two or three thousand men, and would prepare for an engagement; and it was by such methods as these that it pleased God in those days of confusion, plunder, and insubordination, to preserve that spot from the most imminent danger of pollution and infamy.
All this while the body of the Governor had remained unattended to. At last, however, after two whole days, it was taken up by Séyd-mahmed the Isfahamian, father-in-law to Mir-háider-aaly, Cutval of the city, and son-in-law to the late Mirza-darab. Séyd-mahmed on the intreaties of Mir-háider-aaly, brought the body to his house, where he performed the religious rites over it, and wrapping it in a winding sheet of great value\(21\) which he had brought from Kerbela for himself, he committed it to the earth in that particular spot, that goes by the name of Hàibet-djung’s Monument, and which the deceased had bought for that very purpose in that quarter of the city, called Begum-p8ra.
Whilst that unfortunate city was in prey to all the atrocities that can be expected from the rage of an unbridled soldiery, a report spread that Aaly-verdy-qhan was advancing on his way to Azim-abad at the head of an army. Shimshir-qhan, therefore, and that abominable wretch, M8rad-shir-qhan, made haste to secure the family of the murdered Prince. With an impudence of mind, and an unfeelingness of temper, hardly to be paralleled throughout all the annals of Hindostan, those impudent wretches were not ashamed to send open carriages to bring to camp Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan’s consort and daughters, with Mirza-mehdi, his youngest son, then a boy; and without a veil, without a curtain, with not even a blanket thrown over them to intercept the sight of so many by-standers, those illustrious, those high-born persons were huddled together in those indecent carriages; and as if there had not been at hand so many by-ways to answer the same purpose, they were moreover carried along the high street and through the main market, to the great indignation of those crowds of honest folks, who thought it unlawful to raise their eyes-open upon such a forbidden spectacle, and loaded the authors of so much defilement with curses and execrations. Even the Afghans themselves joined in the general detestation. In a little time, the short lived authority of those miscreants came to an end; and the perpetrators of so much infamy felt the force of universal detestation, in the manner which this history shall certify, and which was no more than what they deserved.
The two chiefs, by spreading everywhere the money they had found in abundance, had brought together about forty thousand horse in the city, and nearly as many foot, mostly of their own nation. They took with them that numerous train of artillery which they had found ready at their hands, and they marched out to oppose Aaly-verdy-qhan. The latter was in the middle of winter, encamped at Amany-gunj, in the outskirts of the city of M8rsh8d-abad to oppose Mir-habib’s inroads, and Djano-dji’s ravages; when news came of that mighty event, of that heavy misfortune, that deprived him of a son-in-law, who was the eye and flambeau of his family, as well as the unquestionable delight of his heart; a son whom he compared to himself, whether in the arts of government or in those of the field. He had likewise lost his brother, and his daughter and grandson were kept in an unworthy confinement. On the other hand, he reflected likewise that the same revolution had deprived him of the province of Azim-abad, that is, of a full half of his dominions; that it had passed to the hands of an enemy; and that most of his own troops were of the same nation with that enemy. All these misfortunes crowding at once upon his mind, made a deep impression on it; but he did not lose his wonted firmness, nor ever betrayed any appearance of fear, or perturbation, or ever abated anything from his usual gravity, or the confidence and majesty of his deportment. The next day he ordered a general assembly of his friends as well as of his Military officers, high or low. When he saw them assembled and seated, he informed them of what had happened, and then delivered himself in these words: Gentlemen, a stone has struck me, and struck me very hard. A son of mine, a very able, and worthy son, has been murdered. My brother has perished in the torment. My children and grand-children are now prisoners, and are turned into so many objects of contempt and contumely. After such a flow of misfortunes life is become unpalatable to me, and improper to my circumstances. Nor do I know any other remedy to my woes, than that of killing or being killed. Now after such a declaration on my part, I ask what are your own sentiments? I speak to you all; and amongst so many friends, and so many field companions, now present, who is willing amongst you to become my assistant, and my associate in this perilous affair? This speech uttered with a tone of voice, and a cast of features, impressed by a sense of deep-felt woe, made the strongest effect on that numerous assembly. They answered in one general confused murmur that they were all his servants; all beholden for their well-being to him; all ready to obey his commands, and all ready to follow him. On hearing these words, he paused awhile, and then added: As your services have these many years acquired incredible rights upon my gratitude, I declare to you that, whoever shall please to become my man, my fellow soldier and succourer in this affair, I, on my side, shall become his man, and his fellow soldier, ready to part with my life or fortune in his cause. Either of these will be common between us; and as to those that may be disinclined from so laborious an undertaking, I have no objections to their retiring to their homes. Nor do I see why it should follow, that because I have myself preferred death to such a life, they also should prefer death to their own conveniency. These words having again produced a murmur of approbation, and several voices speaking together, on the murmurs subsiding, an officer advanced to the Mesned, and answered in these words for all the rest: There is no doubt but every one of us, your servants, has been benefited by his attachment to your Highness. We have every one of us experienced your favours, and received a variety of obligations from your family; and now we have no other intention than that of repaying you by shedding our blood in your cause. March then, and we follow. Soldiers and friends, replied the Viceroy, If ye are true to your words, and sincere in your protestations, do confirm your oaths by the ties of religion, that they may acquire a greater solidity, and become the more binding. At these words a Coran was produced, and every one getting up, swore upon it to the truth of his word, and the fidelity of his promise. As soon as the assembly had taken their seats again, the Prince addressed them again: Gentlemen, said he, I am a debtor to every one of you; and the arrears of your pay is a debt which I must by all means discharge; but you see the times; please to take patience and allow me time to liquidate the whole gradually. For do not believe I shall be sparing of my money with men that are not sparing of their blood. The assembly consented unanimously, and promised to be all of one heart and one mind in his service.
This affair being ended to his satisfaction, he turned his view towards raising the necessary money, and he obtained immense sums from his son-in-law, Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, and not a little from his own daughter, Bibi-Ghahassity, consort to that deputy. He also got mighty sums from Djagat-seat, and from the bankers and other money-lenders, as well as from the principal persons of his Court. All these sums being immediately paid to the troops, there still remained balances due them. But whilst these arrangements were taking, the city was in danger. The Marhattas were in full view, and had raised a great tumult; and as their manner of waging war is extremely troublesome and importune, and they never tarry at one place, but conduct their business chiefly by repeated skirmishes and repeated retreats, the Viceroy became uneasy at what might happen in his absence; and he resolved to remain encamped, and to secure the city, until the preparatives for his intended expedition might be fully completed. Meanwhile he sent his son-in-law, Sàyd-ahmed-qhan, to Bagvangola, with orders to secure the roads in those parts, in such a manner, as that the daily convoys of provisions from thence should not meet with any obstruction from the Marhattas, nor the enemy suffered to occasion a dearth in the city. He likewise published, “That at present his business was with the Afghans, a species of foes, from whom he could not divert his attention to any other object, and against whom he must march of all necessity. That mean while the Marhattas would be left in the heart of Bengal, an army of freebooters, that would ravage the country without controul, but against whom at present he could not insure the safety of the inhabitants. That it was proper, therefore, that every one should provide for his own safety, by retiring to some sure retreat.” As soon as these words of his became public, every one of those that could afford it, retired to the other side, that is, to the northern side of the Ganga; and the multitude, that could not afford to quit their homes, recommended themselves to God, and remained in the city. Aaly-verdy-qhan’s mind being now made easy on that head, he applied it so vigorously to the preparatives of his future campaign, and he gained the affection of the soldiers so effectually by a variety of favours, and by the affability of his deportment, that about the end of the second Reby, in the year 1161, A. D. 1749, he was enabled to take the field, with fourteen or fifteen thousand horse, and eight thousand foot, at the head of which he displayed his glorious standards towards the city of Azim-abad. From Amany-gundj he went to Chapàideh, which is a village at three cosses from M8rsh8d-abad, towards the west. He left his son-in-law, Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, to take care of the city in conjunction with Ata-ollah-qhan, under whose orders he put a body of five or six thousand men; commanded by Mir-djaafer-qhan; and as this officer had been for several years past Paymaster-General of the forces, an office which he had lost, and which had been bestowed on N8r-ollah-beg-qhan, the office in question was restored to him with a view to gain that General’s heart, and to shew a regard to Nevazish-mahmed-qhan’s intercession. And as it was expected that the army on its march, would be followed and harassed by the flying parties of the Marhattas, and probably would suffer from a dearth, if not from a scarcity of provisions, it was recommended to the most eminent grain merchants that followed the army, and to all those that could afford the precaution, to lay in a store of provisions, and to accompany the army in their boats laden with stores. In short, after taking every precaution, and providing against every probable accident, he displayed the standards of good luck, and quitting Chapàideh, he resolved to march against the enemy.
As soon as this intelligence was conveyed to the Marhattas, they guessed his intention; and being resolved on their side to support the Afghans at any rate, they gave up their wonted custom of warfare; and abandoning their schemes of plundering the city of M8rsh8d-abad, they took to a mountainous country on the left of the victorious army, and marched incessantly under cover. The Bengal army on its march received some assistance from Sèif-qhan, who possessed the Fodjdary of P8raniah from a long series of years. That nobleman having heard of Aaly-verdy-qhan’s expedition, sent to his assistance Sheh-din-mahmed, son to Sheh-mudjahed, a chief Commander in his service, at the head of fifteen hundred musqueteers; excusing himself at the same time on pretence of sickness, from waiting upon him in person. The officer having crossed the Ganga at Carangola, attempted to join Aaly-verdy-qhan, who he heard would stay two or three days at Mongher; and he was already arrived at Soltan-gundj, Brave defence made by an officer. when he was set upon by the Marhattas, who hearing of his small numbers, sent a detachment to overtake him. The man without being dismayed, stood his ground the whole day, after having dispatched a swift horseman to give advice to Aaly-verdy-qhan of his situation. This Prince, although averse from dividing his army, sent the four sons of Omer-qhan with a body of troops to succour him; but before the detachment could arrive, the Marhattas, at sunset, had already retired to their camp, as is their custom. So that Din-mahamed availed himself of this retreat, and of the darkness of the night, to march without discontinuation, until at day-break he met the detachment, with which he marched on leisurely, so as to reach the army betimes. The next day he paid his respects to Aaly-verdy-qhan, who loaded him with caresses and encomiums. The officer in relating his engagement with the Marhattas, mentioned that having spent all the powder he had received from his master, he requested a supply from the army’s stores, lest he might he found destitute in the future engagement with the Afghans. This was a very natural request, but to the amazement of all, it was not heard; and the Viceroy, intent on sparing his stores, expressed doubts about the officer’s spending all his powder. The latter observed the length of the engagement, which had lasted from morning till evening; but the Viceroy still doubted; and it required a deal of persuasion, and many intreaties to make him spare a small quantity of gunpowder. Strange to say! that so great a Prince, and otherwise so generous a man, should have taken up so much time to consider whether he should bestow some gunpowder on a deserving officer: an article too so cheap, and at that time, so very necessary to the petitioner. It was a little after this event, that a man who carried a letter of importance from Ata-ollah-qhan to the two Afghan Generals, fell in the hands of Dost-nick-bedaqhshani, an officer in the Bengal army. By comparing the purport of the letter with the man’s answers, it became evident that Ata-ollah-qhan solicited their concurrence and their alliance, offering them an union of concerns and interests, and exhorting them to a vigorous opposition on promise of support.
Such a discovery could not but affect the Viceroy; however his attention was soon diverted to another object. Whilst the Bengal army was on its march, Mir-habib, of whom all track had been lost in his journey through the mountainous countries, emerged all at once about Bagal-p8r, and was now on the little river of Champa-nagar, where falling unexpectedly upon the laggers of the army, he occasioned much disorder and much tumult amongst the people that attended the baggage; after which he retreated with his booty. But this did not prevent the Viceroy from continuing his journey to Mongher, where he was met by Radja Sunder-sing, Zemindar of Ticary, who had received important favours from him, and was greatly attached to his family; and likewise by Camcar-qhan, Zemindar of Tarhut and Samáy. They both came to pay their respects, and to offer their services; and they were received with demonstrations of honour and regard. Immediately after them, came the cream of law-learning, the Prince of doctors, the withdrawer of the veil of celestial and terrestrial truths, our Lord and teacher,———Mir-mahmed-aaly-fazyl, (May God perpetuate the refreshing pure streams of his learning!) and he came to pay his respects to the Viceroy, who received him with the utmost regard, and shewed him every demonstration of honour. He is a personage, of whose merit we shall make further mention, when we come to speak more particularly of Aaly-verdy-qhan’s family, as well as of his private way of life. This excellent man was followed in a few days by some other persons of distinction, such as Qhadum-hassen-qhan, who having quitted the army for some disgust against Mehdy-nessar-qhan, was coming to Azim-abad, and had already pitched his tent at P8lvary; where hearing of that lamentable event, (his master’s death) and finding it dangerous to retreat, he thought it expedient to join his murderers, until some favourable opportunity should serve. Hearing in the sequel that the Viceroy was arrived at Mongher, he gave the Afghans the slip, and came to pay his respects to that Prince who admitted him the honour of kissing the threshold of the sublime gate. Thither came also Ismáil-c8li-qhan, a nobleman who on the first news of the revolution at Azim-abad, had taken fright and was flying to M8rsh8d-abad; but on his coming to pay his obeysance, no kind of notice was taken of it, as he had already lost his character. News came at the same time that the two Afghan Commanders, with fifty thousand of their countrymen, all as great miscreants and as odious as themselves, had quitted the city of Azim-abad with all those implements of war which they had found ready assembled at their hands; and that they had encamped at the town of Bar. This intelligence having reached Aaly-verdy-qhan, who had tarried a few days at Mongher, only to afford some rest to his army, and to implore the Divine assistance, he displayed his victorious standards, and marched forwards to meet the enemy.
It was at this very critical time, that Mir-habib, and Djano-dji arrived in the neighbourhood of Azim-abad, from whence they immediately sent notice of their arrival to the two Afghan Generals. These two men who had only put in execution the several parts of that mighty revolution, which had been planned by Mir-habib, but where he and the Marhattas had pointed out to them mighty benefits which they had taken upon themselves, thought that now was the time to confer with them. They went to pay a visit to Mir-habib as well as to Djano-dji, as to two men in whose service they reckoned themselves to be; for this Mir-habib had been the proposer, and first mobile of that whole affair. He was a man of a fiery temper, fertile in expedient, vindicative, and ardent in everything that tended to ruin Aaly-verdy-qhan’s power; but he was very little seconded by fortune. Djano-dji and Mir-habib bestowed rich Qhylaats on Shimshir-qhan and his colleague, whom they treated in all respects as men in their pay; and Mir-habib doubtless thought that he had conferred on them thereby the Viceroyalty of Bahar. After this visit they were dismissed to their camp; for the Afghans, who had formed high pretensions upon him for their salary, seemed only to conform to whatever he pleased. The next day Mir-habib returned the visit, upon an invitation from the Afghans, who had prepared an entertainment. He was accompanied by Mirza-mahmed-saleh, by Mohon-sing, and by some other persons of distinction. A great deal of respect was shewn him, and he was sumptuously entertained. After the entertainment, he was shewn into a magnificent tent, pitched on purpose for his taking some repose in the afternoon; they also sent a guard thither, in appearance to do him honour, but in reality for quite another purpose. The officers had orders to let Mir-habib repose leisurely; but on his offering to return to his camp, they were to prevent him, and to represent, “that the Afghans had engaged on that dangerous enterprise solely on his promises. That they had performed their own part, as men in his service, by dispatching Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan; and were now to the number of fifty thousand horse and foot ready to fight the enemy, and all this, by his orders, and for his sake; but as the pay of the troops was in arrear by a vast balance, it was proper that he should provide for their immediate relief by a sum of thirty or forty lacks; after which he might return to his camp, to find the remainder.” Mir-habib’s situation now became critical; but he was extricated by his friend, Mirza-saleh, to whom he had given proper instructions, and who having examined the scheme by himself, executed the following stratagem: He engaged a number of Marhatta troopers to absent themselves from the Afghan camp; and then to return full speed, crying out that Aaly-verdy-qhan was at hand, and that his vanguard was in pursuit of them. The troopers did as they were bid, and filled the Afghan army with tumult; and Mir-habib getting ready with his retinue, intended to return to his camp, when he was met by the two Afghan Generals who renewed their request, but were answered by Mir-habib “that they took very ill their time for stopping him and setting up a conference and a negotiation; that such a stoppage could not but produce some great evil, and would occasion precisely what the enemy wished for; that Aaly-verdy-qhan thirsting for revenge was at hand; and that such a sum would be duly considered, and as much as he could afford it, provided for after his return to his camp; but that such an affair required leisure and recollection; and that now the main business was how to get ready for an engagement, as not a moment was to be lost in disputes.” This speech produced its full effect. The Afghans considered, consented to a parley; and at last Mir-habib agreed to pay down two lacs of rupees for which a Banker became his security. It was with such a contrivance he found means to depart from the Afghan camp, and to arrive safe among his own troops, together with his right-hand-man Mirza-saleh. The next day the two armies, having just seen each other, and being only at three cosses distance, every one prepared for a general action.
\(22\) The Navvab, Sword of the Empire, the Valorous of the State, the valiant Mahmed Aaly-verdy-qhan, ever formidable in battles, who in those times had not his equal, except Assef-dja-nizam-el-mulk, in the art of ranging an army in battle and in choosing a post, did not think it proper to quit the shore of the Ganga, but kept close to its banks, along which he advanced towards the town of Bar, where he found the Afghans encamped on the other side of a small river, which was in times of yore, the Ganga itself, but where the water having quitted that shore, and gone over to the other side, had left just such a small quantity of water, and in so narrow a stream, as formed an Island on the ancient bed called the Derab, or hollow; on the other side of which the Afghans had encamped, but which they turned into a very strong post, by lining all the shores with that numerous artillery which abounded in their camp; in so much that the passage had been rendered of every difficult access. The Viceroy having taken information from a Zemindar of that neighbourhood, advanced westwards about two miles during the night time, and passed on the other side without any difficulty; nor did this event come to the knowledge of the Afghans but when it was already mid-day. Struck with surprise and amazement, they abandoned that numerous artillery with all its implements, and disappeared; and this first success proved so auspicious, that the Viceroy took it up as a good omen to his future operations. Suspecting, however, that some deceit might lurk in this sudden retreat, he advanced beyond his own artillery, and passed the whole night waking, with part of his army under arms. At the end of the night, when the horizon commenced to redden, and the divine goodness was sending forth the beneficent rays of its sun, he made his morning prayer, and rubbing the forehead of supplication and humility, on the future field of battle, he petitioned the Supreme Overseer of the afflicted for success and victory over those murdering enemies of his family. After this, he produced a small cake made of the earth of the sacred tomb of the Prince of Martyrs,\(23\) (a precious gem which he always carried with him on such important occasions) and having adorned his forehead with some dust from it, he found within himself an accession of vigour, and he gave the order of march. On getting up with the enemy, he again made a short prayer, mounted his elephant, and prepared for battle. After having examined the country about Bar, and paid a proper attention to that hollow plain, in which is the village called Rani-Choc, (and this is but at four cosses from that town) he disposed his army in the following manner: Bahadyr-aaly-qhan, with the heavy artillery was placed in the front of all. Behind him was stationed Háider-aaly-qhan with the field-pieces; and he was to be supported by Rahem-qhan and Mir-mahmed-cazem-qhan, and Dost-mahmed-qhan at the head of their respective brigades. These were his main body in one line. On the left of this, and a little behind, over against the part where the Marhattas had made their appearance, he placed Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, his son-in-law, with Alla-yar-qhan, and Mirza-Iredj-qhan and Radja Sunder-sing, and Radja Camcar-qhan with some other Commanders, all at the head of their brigades. Umer-qhan received orders to ride the Viceroy’s standard-elephant, quite close to the Prince himself and in his front; and that Commander’s four sons, viz., Assalet-qhan, and Dilir-qhan, and Ahmed-qhan, and Mahmed-qhan, with their troops, were ordered to attend their father. But Sheh-din-mahmed with several other Commanders, received orders to cover their flank. All these dispositions being made; the Viceroy took his post in the centre of all. On the opposite side, the two Afghan Generals put their army in the following order of battle: They had of their own about thirty thousand horse and foot, besides Baqshi-bo8liah’s infantry, and a multitude of other Afghans lately arrived. Hayat-qhan, a Commander of character, was stationed with his corps on the very banks of the Ganga, towards the left, with a battery of heavy cannon, with which he had orders to fire incessantly against the enemy’s centre, and against Aaly-verdy-qhan’s person. The rest of the army formed a body that extended in a line westwards of the river for a great length. The Marhattas, on the other hand, forming an angle with this line, fronted the whole left wing of the enemy; and Aaly-verdy-qhan, enclosed between two armies each of which was stronger than his own, looked like a gem encircled with metal. The Marhattas were skirinishing endlessly, and the Bengal army seemed to be given up for lost; but it must be acknowledged for the sake of truth, that never did that hero exhibit so much steadiness and fortitude, as in that trying day, in which few men would have not felt their firmness daunted by so formidable an appearance of superiority. The two armies now advancing to engage, and the artillery firing already, a ball directed by the Sovereign disposer of events, took up Serdar-qhan’s head, and shockingly mangled his body; and his troops deprived of a Commander, reputed still braver than Shimshir-qhan, were disheartened, broke their ranks, and then dispersed; nor were these less than a full half of the Afghan army. By this time Hàider-aaly-qhan was advancing towards those disheartened troops with his infantry, and perpetually pouring upon them such sheets of fire, as darkened the light of the sun; and having turned noon-day into a dark night, the ambient air became as black and as frightful as the reprobated faces of those wretched ravagers. Aaly-verdy-qhan on observing the confusion and fluctuation occasioned by this fire, ordered Sheh-djehan-yar and Fakyr-ollah-beg-qhan to advance with their cavalry, and to charge the confused enemies; but neither of those two officers moved a step. At this very moment the Marhattas, and Mir-habib, seeing the Bengal army fully employed by the Afghans, fell upon its left wing, and made so vigorous an attack, that Seradj-ed-döulah, whose elephant was close to that of his uncle, observed “that matters grew serious there, and that some assistance must be sent against those enemies immediately, or it would become too late to think of it.” Aaly-verdy-qhan with an inflamed face, and a tone of anger and peevishness not customary to him, answered bluntly, pray, who are the Marhattas, and who is Mir-habib? My enemies now are those that are before me. After I shall have been revenged of those miscreants, I hope with God’s blessing to give a good account of the Marhattas themselves, and to drive them out of my country. After this answer, he, without looking at the Marhattas, continued with his face turned against the Afghans, and he again sent an order to Fakyr-ollah-beg-qhan to charge directly. Whilst he was yet speaking, a swift horseman came up, with a joint message from Rahem-qhan, and Dost-mahmed-qhan, and Mir-cazem-qhan, and Hàider-aaly-qhan, requesting leave to charge immediately, as the enemies seemed confounded, and greatly disordered by the fire of the infantry; “we only wait for your order,” added the messenger; “and be sure to cover our rear so as to preserve our communication with you.” Go, my valorous fellows, answered the Viceroy, go where victory beckons to you; and rest assured that you shall see me close to your backs, and at hand to support you. The messenger having returned on a gallop, a moment after the first line was seen to move forwards. The Viceroy immediatly moved at the same time; and the action at once became a scene of hand-blows. Dost-mahmed-qhan, and Mir-cazem-qhan, both rivals of glory, and both friends, rode on the same elephant; and desirous of being beforehand with the others, they were pushing eagerly forwards. The engagement now becoming closer and closer, every one engaged the man over against him, and fought hand to hand, in such a manner that the enemy’s blood commenced flowing in abundance, and it dropped on the dry ground, like the hair from the eye-brows of the afflicted ones. The two friends pushing eagerly forwards, without looking behind, at last closed with M8rad-shir-qhan’s elephant, upon which Mir-cazem-qhan was already jumping, having seized the opposite Häodah with one hand. The Afghan General, although wounded by a musquet-ball, had force enough to raise his head, and seizing a sabre or an Afghan knife\(24\), he twice struck his enemy, cut some of his fingers away, and made him quit his hold. Whilst he was thus engaged, Dost-mahmed-qhan jumped into the Häodah, and having brought him down by his weight, he cut his head off. Instantly the man who had lost his hold and his fingers, having applied his wounded hand to the Häodah’s board, got up again. It was at that time that Shimshir-qhan fell wounded from his elephant, without it being known how, nor by whom. This having been perceived by Djib-beg, a gentleman attached to Dilir-qhan, he jumped down from his horse, cut off the Afghan’s head, and ran to present it to Aaly-verdy-qhan; and these two guilty heads, stuffed with so much ingratitude and pride and imprudence, having been now brought down from their seats, by the dispositions of an avenging Providence, were made fast to the feet of the Viceroy’s elephant. At sight of this, that Prince inclined himself profoundly, and rubbed the front of humility on the ground of acknowledgment, for an event which became a sure forerunner of victory; setting open at the same time the gate of joy and gladness, he ordered the music to strike up, and the enemy to be charged everywhere, without affording him time to breathe. Meanwhile the Marhatta army, which had advanced fiercely against the left wing, as against a sure prey, finding that the engagement had taken a turn which had never been so much as suspected, and which had intirely changed the face of things, were astonished at the firmness and fortune of a man always crowned with success. They doubted of their being able to face so fortunate a Commander; and quitting the engagement, they commenced retreating. So that Aaly-verdy-qhan being freed from those importunate enemies, turned his whole attention against the Afghans; he pursued them to their camp, which he entered with all the pride of victory, planting his fortunate standards at the very entrance. All this while the unfortunate Governor’s consort, Aminah-begum, with her daughters, and Mirza-mehdy, her son, were kept prisoners in a tent, that had become the seat of misery and wretchedness, and where they were exposed to all kinds of hardships and to every kind of contumely. Those unfortunate persons hearing of this unexpected revolution, thought they had come a second time into the world, and they commenced to breathe freely. Those illustrious captives were brought to the Viceroy’s quarters, and a flood of tears, as well as an inundation of joy, followed the interview. All was silence for a longwhile; at last they both opened their hearts and mouths to return their acknowledgment to the Supreme comforter. On hearing of this piece of good news, the inhabitants of the city of Azim-abad, high or low gave themselves up to an universal joy; and their hearts contracted this longwhile by the pressure of misfortune, sorrow, and regret, being set at liberty by this revolution, expanded at the welcome news. They thronged in crowds to see the unexpected scene, and to kiss the desired threshold; and they returned home each with a provision of joy for the rest of the year. The nobles and the people flocked out of the gates into the victorious camp of that fortunate and benevolent Prince, to contemplate that pattern of both glory and simplicity of heart; and after having feasted their eyes with the sight of their beloved lord, and contemplated the individuals of a family that had become the darling of mankind, they seemed to have obtained the utmost scope of their fondest wishes. Aaly-verdy-qhan, after having given some rest to his troops for a couple of days, spread his victorious standards, and marched into the city of Azim-abad in military array, but yet with a pomp that darkened the eye of his enemies, and gladdened the hearts of his friends. He carried so much benignity in his looks, and shewed so much mercifulness and condescendence in whatever he did or said, that he afforded long draughts of a refreshing relief to the distressed inhabitants of a city and country, whose afflicted hearts had been these two months and-a-half thirsting after such a day, and spreading constantly the eye of expectation as a carpet for his beneficent arrival. The Prince’s emotions at these unfeigned demonstrations of joy were guessed by his alighting again, to return his acknowledgment to the Spring and Author of all benefits. He renewed his orders for performing the vows and oblations. He had commanded sums and pensions to be distributed to the needy, to the Séyds, and to the distressed believers,\(25\) as well as to the impotent and poor of all sorts; after which he wrote to his Deputy at M8rsh8d-abad, that “Thanks be to God, he had obtained a complete victory, and such as his heart had wished; and that, therefore, there remained nothing more on his part, than to distribute to the Séyd and to the needy families of that city, the sums that had been vowed for their relief. He commanded him to keep always in his eye the content and satisfaction of the inhabitants committed to his care, as the main object of his administration; so as to afford some consolation to a loyal people that had already suffered but too much from the apprehensions of the iniquitous government of a set a miscreants that had murdered his children, overwhelmed his family and essentially injured his loving subjects.” These letters being dispatched, he sent trusty officers and other persons of his household to confiscate and bring away the property which that ungrateful nation had left at Deher-banga. At the same time letters came from the Zemindar of Betia, humbly setting forth, that the “families of Shimshir-qhan and Serdar-qhan had been lodged with him by their owners, as in a place of safety; and that should these defenceless persons be suffered to depart to some other country, he would undertake to pay to His Highness a Nuzur or present of three lacs of rupees.” This offer was not accepted; and trustly persons were sent to bring that family away. In order to give those persons more weight, and also to keep the Zemindar in awe, Aaly-verdy-qhan himself crossed the Ganga, and under pretence of hunting, he advanced two or three days’ journey towards the Betia; after having left the care of the city to his son-in-law, Sáyd-ahmed-qhan. The Zemindar of Betia intimidated by those appearances, thought proper to deliver to the envoy the consort and daughters of Shimshir-qhan; and orders were immediately dispatched to them, to bring those Ladies in covered coaches, and with so much decence and care, as that they should never come to be defiled by any prophane eye. Directions likewise were given that, instead of being carried along the main street and the several markets of the city of Azim-abad, they should take a circuit, go round the unfrequented parts of the ramparts, and be conducted with the utmost respect and secrecy to his Seraglio, about the western gate; but by all means to take care that they should suffer no injury, nor meet with any subject of discontent on their way. As soon as they arrived at the gate of the sanctuary they were received with kindness, and assigned a decent apartment for themselves and their attendants. The attention to decence was carried so far, that Seradj-ed-döulah, who was the whole delight of his soul, and who used to get into the Prince’s Seraglio at all times without sending or giving notice, was now commanded to submit to those demonstrations of respect and precaution, lest the sight of unlawful women should by some chance come to meet his youthful eye; a precaution to which Aaly-verdy-qhan submitted himself now, always sending notice,\(26\) whenever he went into his inner apartment. He also madeit a point to shew those ladies every mark of regard and attention. Whenever he received any fine fruit, or any victuals had been His extreme delicacy on their account. prepared to his particular mind, (and he was very nice in this last article) he always sent them a share first of all, and then only he thought of his own consort and daughters; and such a share was always upon an equality. But whenever there happened to be some holy days, or some other solemn occasion, in which it became proper to send Shimshir-qhan’s consort a compliment or a message suitable to the occasion, it was always by the expression of Nàni or of my grand-mother. For as to the daughters, he never so much as mentioned them; a delicacy, that does him the more honour, as his own daughter, and his grand-children of both sexes, had been treated with the utmost contempt and contumely by those ungrateful miscreants, who would have never been able to repay him for the many favours heaped upon them, had they spent their whole lives in his service; and who yet made no other return for so many benefits, than that of suffering those forlorn captives to become a prey to every distress and every misery imaginable. So infamous a behaviour rendered those miscreants in their life-time, the scope of the arrows of every one’s satire and reproach; and after their death, their memory has ever been held in horror and detestation. But it was not with any view to himself that Aaly-verdy-qhan had sent for those Afghan ladies. It was, said he, to rescue their honour from the consequences of a sudden revolution, or a precipitate flight; for to all the sweetness of good manners and good breeding, he joined a great knowledge of mankind, and a very keen sighted prudence; and he was heard to say, more than once, that he had no business at all with any man’s honour or women, although he should prove his bitterest enemy. Business with his women, would he say, I never had, nor will ever have; and if I have sent for these veiled ones,\(27\) it is to shew the world, and even to Shimshir-qhan’s departed soul, what difference there is between himself and me. That man had made me no proper return, by using so shamelessly ill my children and grand-children. Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan himself had offered him no injury; and I am not conscious of having done that Afghan anything but much good. And even supposing that he did harbour some secret discontent against my son-in-law, still he revenged himself by treating him as no man ought to be treated by another. But what had his women done him? And what was the guilt of his consort? What wrong had they done him, for his inflicting such a treatment upon them? Such were that Prince’s sentiments. Some time after, he found an opportunity of carrying his benignity much farther. Shimshir-qhan’s eldest daughter had been betrothed to one Shah-mahmed-asac, one of the descendants of Cassem-sulëimany’s, an Afghan of note, who had turned Fakyr, or religious, in times of yore, but who had been shut up in the fortress of Chennar-gur by order of the Emperor Djehanghiri,\(28\) who did not like his being followed by such shoals of sectators. There the man ended his life, and there his disciples in conjunction with the Afghans his sectators, had raised over his bones a fine monument much resorted to by devotees, and which in Aaly-verdy-qhan’s time was kept in full repair, so as to attract much notice. This monument cuts a figure in the western part of the town, adjoining to the fortress itself; but since the English have added that stronghold to the conquests they have made of all the eastern provinces of Hindostan, the Mausoleum has lost its revenues, and the pilgrims their usual entertainment. It is now going to decay; and God only knows what further humiliation it is still to expect. This Mahmed-asac, bearing a character much admired by the Afghans, Aaly-verdy-qhan sent for him, and bestowed on him his intended bride. The nuptials were celebrated in so generous a manner, that he made rich presents tot he new married couple, conferred a number of favours on the whole family, and at their own request, he dismissed them to Deher-banga, which was their native place, and where by his order they were complemented with several villages that furnished amply to their subsistence. Another instance of Aaly-verdy-qhan’s benignity of temper, and of his regard for the sex in particular, may be observed in his attention to Mir-habib’s consort, that bitter enemy to his person and family. The consort of that General, even after his flight and defection, had continued to enjoy perfect safety in M8rsh8d-abad, where she remained several years, always respected by the Government. But as the keeping such a family any longer in that Capital was susceptible of inconvenience, the Viceroy wrote now to his Deputy, to have that lady conveyed to the frontiers with her whole family in the most decent manner, after having complimented her with a larger sum of money than that which she had requested herself for the charges of her journey. The order bore that her person should be entrusted to some approved man, whose business should be not to lose sight of her, until she had been delivered into her Lord’s hand. All these events happened about the time when A.D. 1748-9 news came, that the Emperor Mahmed-shah had departed this life, and that his son, Ahmed-shah, had become in his stead the ornament of the Hindostany Throne.
CONTENTS.
Strange conspiracy of a son against his father—Seradj-ed-döula’s ascendance on his uncle’s mind—Dissensions creep in the Viceroy’s family—Amazing fortune of Ata-ollah-qhan—The Viceroy carries with him to his Capital a number of learned men of Azim-abad—The author finds his grand-uncle, Abdol-aaly-qhan, disgraced, and in misery—And all his relations and friends gone to the Court of M8rsh8d-abad—Séif-qhan, hereditary Governor of P8rania, is slighted by the Viceroy, and soon after dies—Ill conduct of his son and successor, who has the folly to take a journey to M8rsh8d-abad—The Marhatta Prince, Djano-dji, attempts to plunder that city—The Viceroy marches against him—A whole Brigade mutinies, and is broke and disbanded —The Viceroy pursues Djano-dji—Infamous usage offered to the willing garrison of Bara-bati—That fortress surrenders —Description of the City of Catec—The Viceroy returns to his Capital, through an infinity of difficulties—First campaign of Seradj-ed-döulah—Strange infidelities in the Bengal army— Strange behaviour of a Zemindar who had offered himself for a guide—Seradj-ed-döulah elopes and revolts—The old Viceroy passionately doating on his grandson—Strange attack on the City of Azim-abad by sixty men—Singular combat between two noblemen, equally stout and brave—The Viceroy recovers his nephew, and then falls dangerously ill—The Viceroy again, at the head of his troops, forces the Marhattas to retreat—The two parties tired of a Twelve Years’ War—Peace concluded—An immense balance, long forgotten, recovered for the treasury by a Gentoo Minister—Some account and death of Mir-habib, a famous Marhatta General—Death of the Gentoo Minister, Djankiram; and some account of Ram-naràin—Death of young Ecram-ed-döula—Which in time causes that of his adoptive father, Nevazish-mahmed-qhan—Infamous conduct of Seradj-ed-döula, in his private hours—His person detested—He for his coup d’ essay, murders two illustrious noblemen brothers— Noble reflections of the author on those iwo murders—Nevazish-mahmed-qhan infinitely regretted—His eulogium—Some account of his second brother, Sáyd-ahmed-qhan—His death— Singular character of an old woman called Dana-annga—Death of Aaly-verdy-qhan—An account of his private life—Singular prediction of his, with regard to the English.
WE have left Aaly-verdy-qhan on the other side of the Ganga. As this was a country full of game, and he was exceedingly fond of hunting, he passed forty or fifty days on that side of the river; and it is there that Seradj-ed-döulah, who could not digest the appointment of his uncle, Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, to the viceroyalty of Azim-abad, spoke some words, and committed some actions, that little became his station and his person; and it is at such a conjuncture, likewise, that he gave some presages of the hastiness of his temper, and the improvidence of his conduct. There also he gave evident signs of his influence in the politics of the Government, and of his unbounded sway over his grandfather’s mind; and this was about one of the strangest events which history ever recorded; a conspiracy of a son against his own father! An event which may be ranked amongst those that serve to awaken the attention of mankind, and to put the most confident upon their own guard against wickedness and malevolence. But it must be remembered first, how that pattern of mankind, the illustrious Mir-mahmed-aaly, the learned, (whose learning and merit may God continue for a length of time!)\(29\) had crossed over from P8rania to Mongher, to make a visit to Aaly-verdy-qhan. As he had some connections with Séif-qhan, the hereditary Governor of P8rania, a province which is situated just over against Mongher, and on the other side of the Ganga, he had re-crossed over to renew his acquaintance with that noble man, as well as with his eldest son, a young lord whose name was Faqhr-eddin-hossëin-qhan, but who went by the name of the Navvab-bahadyr, or valiant Navvab. On his departing from thence after his visit, this young lord gave him a petition, that is, a letter for Aaly-verdy-qhan, which enclosed a letter to himself; nor did the illustrious Séyd ever so much as dream of the contents; for he promised to put the letter in Aaly-verdy-qhan’s own hands at some disengaged moment, and to support the contents with all his influence; and as he was naturally of an unsuspicious temper, he carried it to that Prince, and on the very first opportunity, put it into his hands. The Viceroy having perused the contents, turned towards the Lord Séyd, and uttered these words: Well, my Lord Séyd, I shall do whatever you desire, and as you shall bid me. As the Lord Séyd knew nothing at all of the contents, he expressed some surprise at these words, and could not help answering, that he was not privy to the contents of the petition. Upon this the Viceroy put in his hands both the petition and its inclosure, that is, the letter directed to himself. On perusal of both, the poor man was struck dumb with the Stange conspiarcy of a son against his father. contents, which proved to be no less than a proposal from that denatured son, to seize the government of the country, make his own father a prisoner, and send him down to M8rsh8d-abad; for all which performances he requested only a small military force from the Viceroy. It was on discussing this unnatural affair that Seradj-ed-döula gave specimens of his turn of mind, and proofs of his boundless influence over the Viceroy’s mind. It was on the following occasion: Amongst those that accompanied the Lord Séyd, was a simple, very plain man, called Aga-Azimái, who had once served Séif-qhan, hereditary Governor of P8raniah, as his Paymaster-General, in which office he had contracted an intimacy with some officers, and amongst others with Serdar-qhan, that Afghan Commander, who was in the same service, and had lately cut so capital a figure at the sack of Azim-abad. This simple man was now taken to task by Seraj-ed-döula, under pretence that he had been all along in close correspondence with the Afghan, had been deeply concerned in the revolution at Azim-abad, and actually was possessed of a hoard, acquired in the plunder of that city by the late Commander, but intrusted to his care and secrecy. The only proofs he adduced of so perilous a charge, was that in the endless plunder and continual defilements to which that ill-fated city had been a prey for full two months, Serdar-qhan, who then chanced to remember his acquaintance, and to retain some sense of the many favours he had once received at his hands, now thought proper to pay a regard to some families and some houses, recommended to him by Aga-Azimái. This intercession became his crime; and Seradj-ed-döula having now taken mighty exceptions against this particular circumstance, and even instilled his own suspicions and ideas on his grandfather’s mind, Aga-Azimái was accused, as being one of the conspirators, and as concealing the sum of eight lacs, deposited in his hands by Serdar-qhan, out of the plunder of Azim-abad. Such an accusation found credit; and matters were likely to take a very bad turn with the poor man, had not the Lord Séyd taken him under his safeguard, and obtained his liberty from the Viceroy. The man on being released, quitted that perilous spot, and repaired to Azim-abad, where Séyd-ahmed-qhan, the Deputy-Governor, gave him service. This giving service to the man, was not relished at the Court, then at Mongher; and possibly, is it from so small a subject, that some dissensions soon commenced in Aaly-verdy-qhan’s family, that gave rise to mighty events.
We have said that the Viceroy had appointed Séyd-ahmed-qhan, his second nephew and son-in-law, to the government of the city and province of Azim-abad; an office which had been promised him at the very beginning of the Afghan War, and with which he seemed to be fully invested, under the modest appellation of Deputy-Governor. One of the first actions of the new Governor’s was his sending for a number of persons of distinction, now out of his province, and attaching them to his service by suitable pensions. These were the flower of the nobility. They had all been in the murdered Viceroy’s service, and were only dispersed by his death. Amongst these was Mehdi-nessar-qhan, maternal uncle to the poor man; he had sought an asylum in the fortress of Rhotas. Another was Naky-aaly-qhan, younger Dissension in Aaly-verdy-qhan’s family. brother to the poor man. Next came Aareb-aaly-qhan, Qhadem-hassen-qhan, and several others. This liberality was not relished by Aaly-verdy-qhan’s consort, who observed, “that as the province of Azim-abad was so situated, as to be the main gate that afforded an entrance into Bengal, to which country no army could penetrate without its Governor’s concurrence, it was improper to leave so important a post in the hands of a person which she styled a stranger; that her eldest son-in-law, Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, being a man of a weak conduct, and of weaker intellects, it became evident that on her husband’s demise, Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, although her son-in-law likewise, would become a sworn enemy to her other daughters, and of course to her two grand children, Seradj-ed-döula, and his younger brother Ecram-ed-döula. After such a chain of reasoning she concluded that so important a Government ought to be lodged in such hands as she might trust entirely.” The Princess having said so much, lowered her tone of voice, and with an air of concern and affliction, “she mentioned the high salaries and expensive pensions which her nephew had been bestowing upon the principal nobility of the province; and she glossed over them as upon so many misdemeanours, which took their rise in deep schemes, and concealed remote views and high-flown designs.” Such a speech from a Princess, that had given her husband the highest opinion of her wisdom, could not but make a deep impression on his mind; but the Princess, as if doubting her own influence in instilling her own jealousies in her husband’s mind, took care to employ another engine, still more powerful. She taught Seradj-ed-döula to mutter publicly, “that if the Viceroyalty of Azim-abad was bestowed on Séyd-ahmed-qhan, he (Seradj-ed-döula) would not survive the affront, but would make away with himself. He used to say that the Bahar was his father’s property. That it came to him by hereditary right, as a paternal estate, and ought not to be given away to others.” Words to that effect, from a youth who had now become the old man’s whole delight, and his very soul, could not fail to sink deep in his mind, on the first moment of their being reported to him. His whole soul centred in that young man; and to give him the least uneasiness, was a thought which he could not bear. On the other hand, he was accustomed to pay the highest deference to his consort’s advice, and the tenderest regard to her wishes; and he also confessed, that after all, her opinion tended to the completion of a scheme which he had set up with her concurrence, namely, that of declaring Seradj-ed-döula heir to his estate, and his successor in all his dominions. No wonder then, if overcome now by the intreaties of a beloved consort, and unable to withstand Seradj-ed-döula’s displeasure, he altered his mind with respect to his other grandson and nephew, and totally declined to fulfil his promise to him. The latter, who thought himself shockingly wronged by such a proceeding, and moreover exposed to ridicule, was stung to the quick at such an unexpected reverse; and giving way to the emotions of his resentment, he abstained from going to Court, and lastly resolved to quit Bengal, and to repair to Shah-djehan-abad, where he intended to seek his fortune at the Imperial Court. The old Prince, wounded by his nephew’s discontent and secession, attempted several times by notes in his own hand, and also by letters, to apologise for his conduct, and to sooth his nephew’s mind; but all was to no purpose. Matters went so far, that the nephew proved inexorable; and in one of his answers he protested, that he was bound by a solemn oath to quit Bengal, and to go to the Imperial Court, should the matter fail of taking the turn he wished. This was answered by a note in the hand of Aaly-verdy-qhan himself. It contained these two short sentences: To atone for such an oath, is easy; and to quit a loving uncle, imprudent. After dispatching the note, he went to pay him a visit, where he addressed him in these words: “Son, it is out of love to you that I stoop to these entreaties, and possibly to these importunities; else, you know yourself, that my custom is to speak once to a man, and to inform him of my mind; after which I leave him to his ownself, never to speak to him again. If this resolution of yours arises from some other matter of discontent, speak out, I am here to afford you redress, and to oblige you to the utmost extent of your wishes; and if you do not choose to speak yourself, here is Hekim-begh, and some other gentlemen, your friends; make use of their channel, and cease to torment yourself and me any more on that head.” The visit being over, Sáyd-ahmed-qhan made use of the channel pointed out to him, to ask the confirmation of some revenues he had acquired in his new Government; and his request having been complied with, this disagreeable affair was immediately brought to an end. But as the rainy season was setting in, the Viceroy resolved to spend it at Azim-abad, in order to arrange some matters of importance, and to settle every part of a province, which required his presence; he also sent orders to M8rsh8d-abad for bringing Seradj-ed-döulah’s consort to Azim-abad under the charge of Radja Djankiram, whom he really intended to appoint Deputy-Governor of the province. Djankiram being arrived with his charge, a public day was appointed, in which a rich Qhylaat was put on Seradj-ed-döula’s shoulders, in token of investiture for the Government of Azim-abad, and another of inferior value, on Djankiram, as his deputy, who was besides complimented with a fringed Paleki, and a kettle-drum. And to regain Sáyd-ahmed-qhan’s good will to this arrangement, as well as to soften his mind, Djankiram received orders to wait upon him, and to ask his consent in a respectful manner. Sáyd-ahmed-qhan graciously granted it, although highly humbled by a transaction that exposed his character; and he gave him a Biry\(30\) of Paan, according to the custom of India, in token of that consent; his intention being to avoid everything that might disoblige his uncle; and it is remarkable that Djankiram went by the Viceroy’s order, in company with Sadr-el-hac-qhan\(31\), to give more weight to his submission. Matters being now settled to his mind, Aaly-verdy-qhan quitted Azim-abad at the end of the rains, and taking with him both Sáyd-ahmed-qhan and Seraj-ed-döulah, he displayed his victorious standards and took the road of Bengal.
Before the end of his journey, he dispatched an order to his deputy at M8rsh8d-abad for his getting Ata-olla-qhan conveyed out of Bengal without delay, and without fail; for he had this longwhile harboured strong suspicions against this last nobleman, and they had been strengthened more than once, but never so much ascertained, as when his envoy and letters were of late intercepted, as we have already mentioned. Although such a traitorous conduct deserved punition, and might have excited any other Prince’s resentment, he chose to leave the man to the remorses of his own conscience; and he ordered that he should be dismissed with his consort, family, riches, movables and furniture; strictly recommending that no injury should be offered him on any account whatsover; but commanding at the same time, that the order for his dismission should be obeyed so expeditiously, as that on the arrival of the victorious standards at M8rsh8d-abad, no trace of his presence might be left in that city. The Deputy-Governor having received those orders, sent them with the letter to Ata-ollah-qhan; the latter, who had to this moment conserved preciously the bond by which that impostor, Mir-aaly-ashgar-cobra had promised him the dominion of Bengal, now thought it full time to tear his heart from it; and having submitted to his fate, he departed with his family, his Amazing fortune of Ata-ollah-qhan. riches, his dependants, and whatever belonged to him. His ostensible fortune, by common report, amounted to sixty lacks of rupees, and seventy elephants; but he was known to be possessed, besides, of a quantity of gems, precious stuffs, and gold;\(32\) and to have carried away the very furniture of his house. Crossing the Ganga, he took up his quarters at Malda, in the house of Mirza-zya-ollah, and spent some days in preparing everything for his intended journey.
Whilst he was crossing over, Aaly-verdy-qhan was taking up his quarters at Radjemahal, called Acbar-nugur, where having celebrated the holy days of the feast of the sacrifice, he gave up his journey over land, and embarked on a fleet of boats; with which in a few days, he landed at Bagvangolah, where he was received by his Deputy, and also by Hussëin-c8ly-qhan, and some other distinguished persons amongst the nobility and principal citizens of M8rsh8d-abad. After having reposed himself a little, he mounted a mountain-like elephant, and with a pomp which became his victorious expedition, and his intrepid troops, he made a triumphant entry in the city, and arrived at his palace; where he was no sooner landed, than not satisfied with the many charitable actions he had already performed in thanksgiving for his successful expedition, he ordered new charities to be distributed to the Séyds, to the faithful, and to the needy and distressed of all sorts; he inclined himself again profoundly in the presence of the Divine distributor of graces, and acknowledged that the victory bestowed upon him had something extraordinary, and such as strongly argued a particular interposition from above.
As he was a lover of learning and merit, he had taken care, on quitting Azim-abad, to invite to his Court several persons distinguished for their birth, rank, learning or talents, requesting them to follow his fortune, and to live in his Capital. One of these was “the Prince of the teachers, the pattern of the jurisconsultes, the model of the virtuous and of the illustrious, the detector of the intricacies of questions, and the solver of the knots of difficulties, the Prince of learned ones, His Highness my Lord Mir-mahmed-aaly, (the refreshing stream of whose learning, may God Almighty keep running for a long series of years!) Another was the glorious and illustrious Qhan, the eye of mankind, and the ball of that eye, Záir-hussëin-qhan, son to the learned Doctor, Moluvy-mohammed-nassyr, (upon whom may God’s mercy repose for ever!). The third was the illustrious and beneficent Qhan, Taky-c8ly-qhan, now deceased, son to Hadji-abdollah, surnamed the Writer or Historian, who had been Divan of the province of Burhanp8r, in the times of the Emperor Aoreng-zib-aalemghir (the Conqueror). The fourth was the illustrious and high-born Qhan, the beneficent, the munificent, the excellent and learned, the Lord of one way of seeing (that is, the sincere) Aaly-hibrahim-qhan, the valiant, son to Doctor Mahmed-nassyr, cousin-german to the late Záir-hussëin-qhan. The fifth was Hadji-mahmed-qhan.” All these eminent personages accompanied Aaly-verdy-qhan to M8rsh8d-abad, where they were all welcomed with large pensions.\(33\)
It was about this time, and when that Prince was setting out, that I, the poor man, arrived from Shah-djehan-abad, to see my glorious mother, as well as my brothers, relations, friends and acquaintances; all beloved persons, which I had given up for lost, on hearing of the enormities of which Shimshir-qhan and his people were every day guilty. In passing by Lucnow, I paid my respects to my glorious uncle, of whom I asked the reason of his having parted with Aaly-verdy-qhan, his cousin, and of his being come so far. He answered, “that this breach had been occasioned by his consort (Abdol-aaly-qhan’s), and that matters were now past remedy; that he had lost his possessions, and also his peace of mind; and that being now deprived of his country and fortune, as well as a prey to the pains of mind and body, he was going to Shah-djehan-abad, in a state of despair; he added, that if he happened to be still alive, it was by the more strength ot his destiny.”
| “A bad woman in a good man’s house |
| Becomes his hell, even in this world; |
| Bawere of a bad inmate, beware! |
| O! God preserve us from such a hell.” |
And it is on the same account, as well as on account of Abdol-aaly-qhan’s dismission, that there passed such a sharp dialogue between my mother and Aaly-verdy-qhan; a dialogue which no one would have ventured upon, and which no one would choose to repeat. To put up with such expressions as were then heard by that Prince, is what the nature of an Angel would have overlooked, but which was more than the patience of a man could bear. This difference likewise broke an alliance, which Sáyd-ahmed-qhan had desired between himself and Séyd-aaly-qhan, younger brother to the poor man, to whom he intended to marry his own daughter, a Princess which Aaly-verdy-qhan has since bestowed on another, whom he has thought proper to honour with his alliance. Although it must be acknowledged, that this Prince, as well as his three sons-in-law, had not their equals in forgiving the misdemeanours of relations, and in winking at the improper conduct of kinsmen; a condescendence extremely uncommon, and of which we see so few instances, even amongst private men. May God Almighty’s goodness reward them for it, by extending over them for ever, the wings of mercy and forgiveness!
On my arrival at Azim-abad, I found that Mehdi-nessar-qhan, my uncle, and Naki-aaly-qhan, my brother, with all my relations, kinsmen, and friends, had quitted that city to follow Sáyd-ahmed-qhan. These were Gholam-reza-qhan, son to Moortezevi-qhan; Aga-azimái, whom we have already mentioned; and Melec-mahmed-qhan, together with Qhadum-hossëin-qhan, Areb-aaly-qhan, Mir-fazyl-aaly, with all his relations; and Mir-assed-aaly, and the Prince of the learned of Azim-abad, Mollah-gholam-yahya, Mir-vahed, and the mufti Zia-ollah, the Moluvi or Doctor Laal-mahmed, and the late Mir-abdol-hadi. All these were the cream and flower of that city; so that finding it hard to live at a distance, from such dear persons, and irksome, to remain in a city which had been evacuated by all my friends, I followed my uncle and two brothers, and without any assurance that Sáyd-ahmed-qhan would admit me amongst his friends, I arrived at Mongher, where I landed, and where I was informed that the Governor of Bahar was ashore, and actually busy in performing the rites of the day of the sacrifice, and in eating, as it is customary, some of the roast meat actually upon the spit, and roasting in his presence. As this was a holy day, and a solemnity consecrated to visits, and to demonstrations of respect, and the Prince happened to be almost alone; I thought that these circumstances not only rendered the occasion favourable to present myself before him, but likewise that they turned it into a duty incumbent upon me. Landing, therefore, from my boats with my youngest brother, Séyd-aaly-qhan, I went up, and making a bow at a distance, I advanced and congratulated him upon the holy day, presenting my Nuzur at the same time. He had the goodness to take it up with demonstrations of regard, seemed overjoyed to see me, made me sit down, and after having invited me to his repast, he requested my remaining with him henceforward as his friend, whether in voyage or in town. Immediately after, he assigned, both to me and to my brother, a pension adequate to our expenses, and having ordered the paper to be brought up directly, he signed it in our presence; so that soon a mutual attachment took rise between that nobleman and me, (the most inconsiderable of mankind) of which mention shall be made in a proper time and place. Our journey being at an end, we arrived at Bagvangolah, where the Governor, who could not digest his having been refused the Government of Azim-abad, and who harboured still in his heart much discontent against his elder brother, as well as against his uncle, at once resolved to pass the season there, and he gave his orders accordingly. Nevertheless, he was softened by his uncle’s letters, and by the intreaties of his elder brother, who came to see him on purpose, and requested his coming to live at M8rsh8d-abad; and to this he consented at last. After tarrying full two months there, he came to the city, and landed in his own palace, which is seated on the Bagraty, over against that of Djagat-seat’s, and from whence he ordered that the house of Mir-habib should be fitted up for us; that is, myself, the poor man, Mehdy-nessar-qhan, my uncle, and Naky-aaly-qhan, my brother.
We have said that Aaly-verdy-qhan, after his victory over the Afghans, was returning to M8rsh8d-abad; this opportunity was seized by Séif-qhan, hereditary Governor of P8rania, who conceiving that he had acquired some merit with the Viceroy, not only by sending presents to him on his passage on the other side of the Ganga, but also by assisting with a detachment of useful troops, thought he had a right now to invite him over to his own side of the river, where he had made magnificent preparatives. It must be observed, that as he had already invited and received successively, both Hadji-ahmed, brother to the Viceroy, and Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, his son-in-law, on their occasionally passing up and down the river; and had engaged them to accept entertainments at Carangolah, which belongs to the dominions of P8rania; he concluded that Aaly-verdy-qhan himself would come over, and accept the entertainment he had prepared for him at the above place. He had set up a number of magnificent tents, and prepared a quantity of rich and curious presents; but these preparatives were not taken notice of by the Viceroy, who knew that the Fodjdar had always paid visits, both to Djaafer-qhan, and to Shudjah-qhan, his two predecessors in the viceroyalty of Bengal, to both which he thought himself vastly superior, either in military talents or in extent of dominions. The truth is, that he was not only much superior to them, but also equal, if not superior, to any potentate of his time, either in reputation, or in real power. He therefore rejected Séif-qhan’s invitations and offers; he even found so much fault with the request, that he was heard to say to his intimates, “That although Séif-qhan was a Lord of the rank of seven thousand horse, and a son of Emir-qhan, the famous Viceroy of Cab8l, yet, after all, he would not be deemed anything higher or better than a Fodjdar of P8rania; and since he used once a year, to comply so far with the rules of decency, as to come down to M8rsh8d-abad to see Djaafer-qhan and Shudjah-qhan, and Ser-effraz-qhan, why then does he not come to see me likewise? Possibly the gentleman thinks such a condescendence beneath his rank and dignity.” Séif-qhan, who was not informed of these sentiments, and who expected that the Viceroy would, like his brother and nephew, cross over, and accept his presents, sent him an invitation whilst he was passing by Taliagary. But the invitation, although noticed and even respectful, was rejected, and the message was answered in these very words: “If to see me is the whole matter, why does he not come to M8rs8d-abad, as he always took care to do with the former Nazems of Bengal.” Séif-qhan on hearing this answer, repented of his having come so far, and he returned to P8rania, his capital; where in a little time he fell sick, and Death of Séif-khan. his sickness turning to a looseness and flux, he departed this world at the beginning of the year one thousand one hundred and sixty-two. He was succeeded by his eldest son, Faqhr-eddin-hossëin-qhan, who had no talents for government, and no capacity for such a charge; and he proved as bad a brother, as he had been a bad son. This man not only took possession of the Government, but also seized on the family estate which amounted to immense sums that had been accumulating these forty years past, and consisted of ready money, jewels of an inestimable value, gems, and precious costly stuffs. All this he took to himself, to the exclusion of his younger brothers; and not content with that, he snatched out of their hands even what they were already in possession of, leaving them only a small matter, or what they had been able to conceal. The Viceroy, who was soon informed of all this, and who knew of no office in Bengal adequate to Sáyd-ahmed-qhan’s rank and pretensions, thought of this province, and he obtained the patent of it from the Court. In a few months he put it in his hands, together with the rich Qhylaat, and the other insignia that had come on purpose from the capital; and to render the ceremony more pompous, he added from his own an elephant, a serpich and Djica with a calghi, a chaplet of pearls, and a variety of other jewels. The fodjdary of Hoogly becoming vacant by this appointment, he made a present of it to Seradj-ed-döulah, appointing Mirza-Piaren, a half-brother of his, whose real name was Mahmed-yar-qhan, to reside in that province, as Deputy of the young Prince’s. Some days after the Governor of P8rania having sent forward a man of distinction, called Qhadem-hossëin-qhan, to take possession of his new Government, he followed himself in a little time after, and this was at the end of the year. He was accompanied by me, the poor man, and by some other persons attached to him, all which were at the head of two or three thousand horse and three or four thousand men. Faqhr-eddin-hossëin-qhan finding that he had now no other party left than that of apprehending the hem of the Viceroy’s garment, wrote him a respectful letter, where he proferred his acquiescence and submission to his pleasure. The latter now become covetous, wrote him in answer, “That he was his friend; and that he had better come over to M8rsh8d-abad where he wished to see him, and where he might rest assured that a regard would be paid to his utmost wishes, as his intention was to gratify him in everything.” Such a letter, which ought to have put him upon his guard, on the contrary inspired him with confidence; and like one who by his unworthy treatment of his brother had drawn upon himself the Divine vengeance, he had the thoughtlessness to obey the order, and to prepare everything for his journey to M8rsh8d-abad. Else, with the troops and equipages, and all the means of travelling and defence which he had ready under his hand, he might have crossed the Cosséy. There being no Zemindar in the neighbouring country daring enough to oppose his journey, and even supposing that he should have met with opposition, he might easily have got rid of it, by affording a small contribution and then continuing his voyage. But the man pursued by the Divine vengeance for the wrongs he had heaped upon his brothers, and as the report goes, upon even his very father, proved so senseless as to set out for M8rsh8d-abad with a baggage of an immense value; but escorted by a body of troops which he had found ready at his hands, and which needed only a Commander. In coming down he met Sáyd-ahmed-qhan by the way. The latter who always knew how to behave properly, sent his own son, Shàocat-djung, with two or three officers of his army, such as Mehdi-nessar-qhan and my humble self, to compliment him on his journey, and to condole on his father’s death; and it was observed that the young man acquitted himself of his commission with a propriety of behaviour and expression that surprised every one. The next day Faqhr-eddin came to pay his respects to Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, who received him with distinction, and made him a variety of presents. The third day the new Governor continued his journey, and by the way he returned the visit; after which Faqhr-eddin taking his leave, went on towards M8rsh8d-abad, while the other continued his journey to P8raniah, where we shall leave him for a while as we intend to speak hereafter both of his person and administration; our business now being with his thoughtless predecessor, who having left his troops upon the Maha-nudda over against Minc8t, crossed the Ganga, and repaired to M8rsh8d-abad, where the Viceroy sent some persons of distinction to welcome him at his landing; and on his coming to pay his respects, he ordered a quilted Carpet or Suzeni to be spread for him, where he got him seated, and where he complimented him with Paan, and Atur or Essence of Roses, as well as Rose-water; and, in short, with all the honorific demonstrations of regard customary in India; after which he appointed a place for his residence, or in other words, for his confinement.
But whilst he was making this acquisition, he was losing his Prime Minister, the Ráy-Ráyán-Chéin-Ráy, who now departed this life. He was succeeded by his Deputy, Bir8-dut, who was ordered to execute the duties of that high office, but without being permitted to assume the title. This Chéin-Ráy was a curious sort of a man, but so able in his business, and with all so loyal, that he made no account of anything, when it interfered with his master’s interest. In a little time he had acquired so far his approbation, and had gained so much over his mind, that the persons of the greatest distinction at his Court, without excepting the Viceroy’s two sons-in-law, were obliged to make interest with him, wherever they had a point to carry. So that sometimes they found it expedient to pay him the greatest deference and regard; and how high was his credit and influence, may be conjectured by this single anecdote: I was once in a closet with the Viceroy, where he was conversing privately with his nephews and cousins, and where Sáyd-ahmed-qhan having mentioned the present Minister, was comparing him to his predecessor in that high office, and to his own private Minister. “No, my son,” replied the Viceroy, “those you mean were my servants; whereas the other was no less than my master.” But after having complimented our readers with this little piece of private history, let us return to the thread of public affairs, and especially to the Marhattahs, and to Djano-dji, their Prince and General.
This Djano-dji, after the defeat of the Afghans by the Viceroy, had been obliged to quit the neighbourhood of Azim-abad, and with a loss of forces and character, to endeavour to fall upon M8rsh8d-abad itself, in the Viceroy’s absence. But having received by the way the news of his mother’s decease, he abandoned his resolution, and leaving Mir-habib with an army of Afghans and Marhattahs, with which he was to find his way towards Midnip8r, and to establish himself there, he quitted the field, and with only an escort, he repaired to Náigp8r; from whence Rhago-dji, his father, sent his younger son, Bimba-dji, with a strong body of Marhattah horse to join Mir-habib. Meanwhile the Viceroy, as we have already said, having performed his vows a secnd time, and returned thanks to the Author of all benefits for so signal a success, was continuing his journey to M8rsh8d-abad, in which city he remained to repose himself of the fatigues of his expedition, and to afford some release to the wearied inhabitants of his dominions; who in return never failed to be profuse in expressions of gratitude for the attention and benignity of his Government. And now the country commenced enjoying some tranquillity; nor was anything to be feared, but from the restlessness of Mir-habib’s, and the ravages of his Marhattahs. The Viceroy, who had taken upon himself the task of ridding his country of such ravagers, took early occasion to display his victorious standards, resolved to make an end of those freebooters. It was in the first days of the second Reby in the year 1162. With that view he encamped some days at Catwa to assemble his troops. He had beforehand sent Bahadyr-aaly-qhan, Commander of his light artillery to Bardevan, with a body of eight thousand horse and foot, and an order to remain encamped there, to the end that should Mir-habib attempt, according to his custom, to ruin and ravage a country he could not conquer, he might find his passage barred up by a respectable force. In a little time the troops being assembled, formed a numerous army, and marched to Bardevan. On his drawing near, Bahadyr-aaly-qhan drew up his troops, and marched back a little to join him, and to pay him his respects; and after a few days he was ordered to proceed with his detachment towards Midnip8r; but his troops, gunners, musqueteers and horsemen, after marching a little way, stopped short, and refused to move forward, unless they were paid their arrears; and the foremost of the mutineers was his own Brigade. The Viceroy to appease their clamours, sent two of the Lords of his Court, Mirza-hekimbeg, and Gholam-aaly-qhan; and these noblemen did everything in their power to bring those people to a sense of their duty; but all to no purpose. The next day the Viceroy came up, and immediately repaired to that Commander’s quarters, with intention to extinguish the fire of sedition by pouring upon the flames the water of persuasion and promises; and he concluded that by paying down part of their demands, and giving them for the balances assignations upon his own Deputy at the city, the money might be provided for before they should have time to dispatch their agent to receive it. But such proposals availed nothing; and they continued obstinate in their demand of being paid the whole immediately. It was observed that one Mir-afzyl-aaly, an officer of cavalry in Bahadyr-aaly-qhan’s Brigade, was so far from endeavouring to put out the flames, that he did everything to afford them fresh fuel. The Viceroy incensed at so much insolence, conceived that, rather than to put up with such a flagitious behaviour, it would be better to put his trust in God Almighty, the Succourer of the afflicted; and with one word he broke that whole detachment, resolved to have nothing to do with such soldiers; after which he advanced to the enemy.
This little incident happened to prove the ruin of that thoughtless man, the discarded Fodjdar of P8rania. On receiving an exaggerated account of this affair, he thoughtlessly imagined that all was over with the Viceroy, whose power was at an end; and immediately he conceived the design of availing himself of the opportunity to effect his escape. Listenting to some favourites as light-headed as himself, he quitted the city without taking leave; and without giving notice of his design, he crossed the Ganga, and repaired to his troops, which he had left encamped on the Maha-nedda; and there putting himself at their head, he marched towards P8raniah; but Sáyd-ahmed-qhan coming to hear of this unexpected proceeding, soon quitted that city; and putting himself at the head of his troops he advanced to oppose him, and marched two or three stages with that view. On this intelligence Faqhr-eddin felt his courage damped; that flash of resolution vanished in a moment, and it was succeeded by as much trepidation. Coming at once to his senses, he sent a respectful letter to Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, to deprecate his resentment, and to request his leave to pass by his army in order to depart the country. He was answered, “That to grant such a permission was not in his power, as it depended on the Viceroy, his uncle; but that, in his opinion, it would be better for him to return to the place from which he had lately come.” That senseless faint-hearted man on this single intimation, marched back, and stopped at Malda, where we shall leave him at present, to return to Aaly-verdy-qhan.
As soon as he had broke that whole detachment of mutineers, he put his trust in the Divine assistance; and continuing his march without being intimidated by so great a diminution of his force, as left him without a single piece of cannon, he arrived at Midnip8r. This arrival gave umbrage to Mir-habib, who had cantoned himself there. Little pleased with such a neighbourhood, he set his barracks on fire, saw the whole consumed, and then retreated with his army. The Viceroy on seeing this, passed the river Cosséy without entering Midnip8r, and he encamped on the other side, after sending spies everywhere to take information. In a little time intelligence was brought that the Marhattahs were encamped in a woody tract of ground, on the other side of Midnip8r; upon which he immediately ordered Mir-cazem-qhan and Dost-mahmed-qhan with some other Commanders to pursue the enemy, and to draw some blood from their veins. These marched the whole night, and arriving before day-break, they fell upon the Marhattahs, sabre in hand; and an engagement ensued, in which valorous actions were performed on both sides, until at last the Marhattahs gave way, and retired towards Catec with much loss and shame, always flying and always followed by the Viceroy, who tired of so hot a pursuit stopped at Balisser-bender, and encamped in that spot. There he learned that Mir-habib and Mana-dji with their Marhattahs and Afghans, not thinking themselves a match for the Bengal army, had fled farther, retiring into the woody mountainous tracts of the Oressa. The Viceroy continuing to advance, went beyond the river that goes by Badrac and Hadjip8r, where he encamped at a place called Bara, which is at about eighteen cosses distance from the city of Catec. There he received letters and deputies from Séyd-n8r, and Serendaz-qhan, and from the Gentoo Deshemdas, three officers of Infantry who commanded the garrison of Bara-bhati, a fortress close to that city. The purport was “That they were his humble servants, ready to execute any orders he would send them; and that whenever his victorious ensigns should emit their glorious beams over the walls of that fortress, the gates of it would be immediately set open; and his humble servants would make haste to kiss the sublime threshold of his tent, as they carried on their hands, and on their eyes, the trappings of fidelity and submission.” The Viceroy intent on pursuing Mir-habib did not pay much attention to such an overture. He was following him incessantly; and he arrived at last in an uninhabited plain of difficult broken ground, where the baggage having not been able to keep pace with the troops, victuals and provisions became scarce and dear. The country was so woody, and the trees so close and so tall, that the vanguard, which had marched some cosses before, was lost, and no intelligence could be had of it for three days together; nor, on the other hand, could the troops that composed it, learn themselves where their main might be. The Viceroy concerned at such an incertitude, ordered all the kettle-drums and trumpets to go out of camp at some distance, and to make as much noise as they could. The expedient succeeded; and the troops that had been thought lost, being guided by the sound, rejoined their main; so that this arrival was celebrated at camp by the whole army, as a festival. I am not unaware that this entrance of Aaly-verdy-qhan’s in the woods, and his losing his vanguard there, as well as his making use of so strange an expedient to extricate his troops, looks pretty singular and fabulous; but as it is pretty well attested, and I hold this fact from numbers of persons that were in that army, I have not thought myself at liberty to pass it over.
It being certain now that no footsteps could be traced of either Mir-habib’s Afghans or of Mana-dij’s Marhattahs, the army marched back; and the Viceroy leaving a body of troops to guard the valley that gives entrance into the woods, put himself at the head of the rest, which did not amount to more than two thousand horse, and marched back with intention to surprise the city of Catec, as well as the fortress of Bara-bhaty. He marched the whole night; and the following day at about noon he crossed the Maha-nedda, which flows by that place, and suddenly displayed the standards of surprise and terror before its walls. But as he had marched by this time full sixteen hours, it happened that out of two thousand horse with which he had set out, no more than three hundred persons could be brought together, when the walls were discovered; and these were so overcome with weariness and fatigue, that so far from being able to fight, not one of them could so much as move a limb; and it must be confessed that this was a strange conduct indeed, and an egregious imprudence in a General so experienced and so wise. For had the garrison at that moment sent out a detachment to fall upon those men half dead with fatigue, he would have infallibly lost in that single day the fruit of so many years’ toil, and of so many victories and dangers; his people would have been knocked down, and himself would have shared their fate, and forfeited his character for ever. But such was his good fortune, and such the prevalence of his destiny, that the garrison, although very numerous, had lost their wits; and thinking they were surrounded by a mighty army, they proposed to surrender. By this time the sun being in its meridian blazed with such intolerable fury, that people dropped down on all sides, not one tent being arrived; so that the plain became as burning as that of the Day of Judgment. In the afternoon two principal officers of the garrison, to wit, Séyd-n8r and Derhem-dass, came out of the gates, paid their respects, were dismissed with honour, and then came back with promises to bring Sér-endaz-qhan the next morning at day-break, by which time they were to leave their gates open, and to surrender the fortress. But as the words of the two Deputies were not altogether to be trusted, he gave order to his guards to put them to the sword, should they fail to fulfil their promise; and he appointed Seradj-ed-döula to see the order punctually executed. Accordingly he took his post behind a small tent that was just arrived for his grandfather; and with a number of guards he waited the dawn of that day, which was to be the last of those two unfortunate men. At day-break the two officers made him a profound bow; and then going in, they paid their respects to the Viceroy, who entertained them with kindness. A moment after, appeared Ser-endaz-qhan himself\(34\) with some more officers of the garrison, and he alighted from his horse; but hardly had he alighted, than Seradj-ed-döula gave the signal to fall upon him. The man seeing that his life was aimed at on all sides, resolved to sell it as dear as possible; and without losing his presence of mind, he drew his sabre, and fought manfully, all the while endeavouring to make his way to the Viceroy himself. Fate opposed his resolution; and the man having lost a hand, was assaulted by numbers at a time, and fell headlong. Whilst this was transacting without, the two officers within were struck with surprise and horror; but they were secured by the by-standers, and delivered over to the custody of Kishver-qhan, a merciless, relentless Afghan, who spared them no hardships, and took care to turn his tent into a loathsome prison. The garrison hearing how their officers had been used, refused to comply with the agreement; and shutting up their gates, they put themselves upon their defence. The Viceroy who did not think it prudent to lose his time at the foot of a dead wall, appointed a number of officers to besiege the place; and he marched up to Catec, the Capital of the province. These were Mir-djaafer-qhan, and Fakyr-allah-beg-qhan, and Radja D8l8bram, with some others who had just arrived from pursuing the enemy. The siege lasted fifteen days, at the end of which, the besiegers, thinking they could resist no more, supplicated Mir-djaafer-qhan and Radja The fortress surrenders. D8l8bram to mediate some terms for them; and these having obtained that no injury should be done to them either in their persons or fortunes, the gates were opened, and the besieged went in a body to the quarters of those two officers. The Viceroy who had the curiosity to visit the fortress, marched in with his guards; nor will the reader be displeased with a short description of either that place or the city.
The ground wherein that fortress and the City of Catec are seated, is an island surrounded by the waters of the Maha-nedda, and those of the Cata-djo8ri. The parts that are washed by the two rivers, are surrounded by a strong wall built with squared stone, serving as a dyke or mound against their inundations. For those rivers which are fordable for one-half of the year, swell so much in the rains that the Maha-nedda becomes a mighty stream Delightful situation of Catec. of about two cosses (or five miles in breadth), and the Cata-djo8ri of half as much. But the fortress of Bara-bhati is seated on the Maha-nedda, and about three cosses in circuit. It is built of stone, brick and mortar, with a great deal of art; and a broad ditch faced with stone, surrounds the whole. But the City of Catec itself stretches on the lesser river at about two cosses from the citadel. The Governor’s palace and the houses of the nobility and principal citizens (which in general affect the water side, and are mostly seated on the said mound) rising by five and ten yards above the mound, cut a handsome appearance; and they overlook on both sides of the water a fine extensive plain that stretches from four to five cosses around. The horizon is bounded by a forest of beautiful, lofty trees, that extend as far as the eye can reach, and line the bottom and sides of a chain of high mountains that seem to reach the very sky; and this beautiful prospect with its triple circle of beauties, is enjoyed by the inhabitants the whole year round. As that spot of fortunate ground is surrounded on every side by the waters of two rivers, such a situation renders it very strong; and should any enemy attempt to besiege the place by coming to an understanding with the neighbouring Zemindars, and the siege should chance to be protracted until the beginning of the rainy season, he would find it difficult to subsist, and his convoys would be greatly at a loss how to approach his camp. But independently of that, the country round this island, and indeed throughout the whole Oressa, is very difficult ground, especially about the rainy season, when it becomes so very intersected by frequent rivers, and endless deep torrents, that an enemy would find it impossible to reach the end of his journey. The Viceroy who was abundantly sensible of the consequence of too long a stay, and thought that so much as he had done was well enough, resolved to quit the country at any rate; and he appointed an officer of Cavalry called Sheh-abdol-subhan, a plain, simple unqualified man, to fill the office of his Deputy in Catec. The reason of such a choice was this: As there was a strong report that the Marhattahs were lurking in the forest, and would sally forth on the first opportunity, as soon as they should see the passage from Bengal put an end to by the rains, no man of character would choose to accept an office, which was untenable; so that the Viceroy determined to return at any rate, invested the very first man that accepted his invitation; whilst the man himself who did not dream of such a sudden promotion, thought it a good luck sent him from Heaven; and doubtless he had an eye to the known verse:
| “Dominion, although even for a short time, has still irresistible charms.” |
Nor is there any other way of accounting for so strange a promotion. The Viceroy having in this manner rid himself of this affair, made haste to depart, it being now the month of Assar; for the rains had already set in by the beginning of the month of Djutt, and that too with so much violence as well as perseverance, that not a day passed without rain. So that the little streams which hitherto had afforded hardly any water, now commenced swelling at such a rate, that to get over any single of them proved a work of much time and much difficulty. In some of these indeed the water did not rise above the armpits; but then it ran with so much violence, that it was impossible to cross over. At every stream, and at every crossing, numbers of men and beasts were constantly lost, as it is expressly mentioned in those memoirs left us by Y8suf-aaly-qhan, son to Gholam-aaly-qhan. He mentions himself his having been in this manner stopped short by the little river of Termahan, which although low, ran with such fury, that for want of boats, they were obliged to cross it upon rafts made of pieces of trees and timber supported underneath by whole skins filled with wind. It is upon such frail machines that both men and tents and merecandise were obliged to pass. But the horses and other animals being obliged to swim over, hundreds of them were lost at a time. He adds that at a little stream, where he had the inspection of the passage, he lost no less than seventeen horses. From this specimen may be guessed what must have been the loss of the whole army, before they could reach the Cassái which runs by Midnip8r; and what they must have suffered in crossing that river, where no more than four boats could be procured, and where the water was deep The Viceroy retires to his capitalthrough an infinity of difficulties. and violent. In short, there would be no end to this narrative; nor would it answer any purpose to mention that infinity of pains which every such little passage did cost infallibly. But the main evil arose from the slipperiness and miriness of the ground, which had rendered the roads so very bad, that had the army tarried a few days more at Catec, it would have been impossible to reach M8rsh8d-abad.
Whilst the Bengal army was making its way to its Capital through so many difficulties, Mir-habib and his Marhattahs were emerging from their lurking places in the forest, and falling upon the Commanding officer at Catec. The latter although far from having forces enough to face a great army, had however courage enough to fight it. No sooner did he hear of the enemy’s approach, which happened to be six or seven days after his master’s departure, than he marched out to fight; not that he was not sensible of the unequality of his force, but he thought his character at stake. He therefore charged vigorously, and behaved with a valour and conduct that did him a deal of honour; until having received six wounds, and lost the use of his arm, he was overpowered, and taken prisoner. This event was announced to the Viceroy whilst he was in Balisser-bender. Such a reverse could not but wound his pride; but as the season did not admit of returning back, the business of revenging his Deputy’s defeat was deferred to the next season. So that he pursued his journey, and after a number of fatiguing marches, he arrived at Catwa, where crossing over upon a bridge of boats that had been prepared beforehand, he on the beginning of Redjeb arrived at Moti-djil, a palace which he had commenced. There he was met by his son-in-law, Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, by Hossëin-c8li-qhan, and by number of persons of distinction, which were received with honours and with presents; and it was at Moti-djil, that Bir8-dutt, who had hitherto succeeded to the Prime Minister or Ráy-ráyán, but without assuming the title, now received the investiture of that high office in a rich Qhylaat, which constituted him Comptroller and Superintendent of the Revenue office.
It was here likewise that the fall of Fahr-eddin-hossëin-qhan was determined. His incapacity and cowardice had become now so apparent, that his very friends and troops used to quit him every day, and to take service with Sáyd-ahmed-qhan at P8raniah; whilst himself with his immense baggage, and his riches, immense, was spending at Malda the whole rainy season, as if waiting what was to happen next. The Viceroy who now became fully apprised of his imbecility, sent some trusty persons to bring him over to M8rsh8d-abad, where he assigned him suitable lodgings, and a suitable pension, with guards to watch over his person. So that at one and the same stroke he took possession of that immense heap of money and jewels that had been amassing for half a century together.
We have said that on Háider-aaly-qhan’s brigade being broke, the whole of that detachment had undergone the same fate; so that their Commander retired to M8rsh8d-abad, where he had lost his eye-sight; and this misfortune had confined him to his house. But his broken troops applied to Seradj-ed-döulah, by whose intercession they were re-admitted into the service. The command of the artillery and of the corps attached to it, was bestowed on that young Prince himself; and Sheh-zia-ollah, who had been for years together the friend and favourite of Ata-ollah-qhan, was invested with the Deputyship of that office. About this time Mehdy-nessar-qhan, my uncle, who at the instigation of Seradj-ed-döulah’s mother, had fallen out with Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, of P8raniah, now made his appearance at M8rsh8d-abad, accompanied by Naky-aaly-qhan, my younger brother, by Gholam-reza-qhan, son to Mir-mortezevi-qhan, and by some other persons of distinction; all which he presented to Seradj-ed-döulah, on whose mind he soon acquired a complete ascendency. The young Prince, who had taken offence at his uncle’s behaviour this longwhile, and who knew how much Mehdy-nessar-qhan had been attached to his father, Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan, the murdered Viceroy of Azim-abad, received him with open arms, gave him service, as well as to all his friends, admitted them to his friendship, and assigned them suitable pensions. Mehdy-nessar-qhan gained so much ground upon that young Prince’s mind, that he became his principal favourite, and the daily object of endless favours and kindnesses.
Whilst an orage was gathering within Aaly-verdy-qhan’s family, a storm was already breaking over the Oressa. Mir-habib, who listened only to the dictates of his jealousy against Aaly-verdy-qhan’s fortune, was perpetually tormenting him in every manner in his power; and having once put on the odious character of ravager, he gave himself and others no rest, but was perpetually in action for ruining countries which he could not conquer, and rendering miserable people whom he could not bring under subjection. He had attached to his person a large body of Marhattas and Afghans with whom he was desolating these many years all the countries south of the Ganga; nor did he seem either tired of his ill success, or inclined to submit to his fate. To drive such implacable enemies, from his dominions, and to deliver his people from such merciless ravagers, seemed incumbent on Aaly-verdy-qhan’s lofty mind; and he thought so himself. For although worn down by repeated campaigns and endless wars, and broken with the infirmities of old age, he was ever ready to engage in an expedition. And first of all, under pretence of a hunting match, (a divertissament also which he was very fond of, and which is not without its utility) he went out and encamped at Mehrp8r, betwixt the southern and eastern part of the city, in a country that proved so very full of game, that reckoning only the deer, there were killed every day hundreds of those animals. The poor beasts astonished at the noise and sight of such a multitude of men, were stupefied with fears, and so confounded, that they ran from the bushes and from the plain into the very camp, where they were taken alive, or knocked down with sticks and cudgels. After some days spent in this hunting, he turned to the south, and marched as far as Catwa, where he encamped to assemble his troops. From thence he marched to Bardevan, and then to Midnip8r. The enemies hearing of his drawing near, took to their accursed and wonted custom of hiding their unwelcome faces in desert difficult countries; and they concealed themselves so well that no intelligence could be had of them. The Viceroy passed the little river Cassáy, and encamped on the other side; and he resolved at this time to secure the passes so well, that his obstinate enemies should find it difficult to penetrate into his dominions for the future. He therefore determined to pass the season at Midnip8r where he ordered his troops to barrack themselves; and where he gave the Fodjdary of that place and country to Ala-c8li-qhan, Commander of Seradj-ed-döulah’s brigade. He resolved to send that young Prince towards Balisser, where he heard that Mir-habib had been seen. His intention in this, was to accustom the young man to face an enemy, and to command troops, whilst he afforded some rest to the main of his army; being of opinion that the troops which Mir-habib could muster, were not such a force as might endanger his grandson or his detachment. Seradj-ed-döulah having sent forward Dost-mahmed-qhan and Mir-cazem-qhan to see the enemy’s pulse, marched himself after them. Dost-mahmed-qhan having advanced briskly, at day-break found he was in the enemy’s presence; and he attacked immediately, without waiting for Mir-cazem-qhan, his friend and rival. The enemy who dreaded the very name of Aaly-verdy-qhan turned about, after having just stood their ground for form’s sake; and they fled as usual, intimidated even by Dost-mahmed-qhan’s slight attack. Seradj-ed-döulah having pursued the enemy, encamped at Balisser-bender; and as he had no orders to advance farther, he discontinued the pursuit.
So slight a separation from that beloved grandson of his, was enough to decompose all the gravity of Aaly-verdy-qhan’s behaviour. He doated so fondly on his beloved person, that he found it hard to be a whole day without his company; so that, when he found himself deprived of his presence for some days, whilst he knew him engaged in a scene of trouble and danger, he lost his usual firmness of mind, betrayed tokens of impatience, and could not reconcile himself to such a separation. To humour therefore his own inclination, and to turn it to some account, he resolved to try what could be obtained by marching forwards himself, and endeavoring to enclose Mir-habib between two fires; hoping that such a neighbourhood would not fail to afford some favourable opportunity to Seradj-ed-döulah, or to himself. In the sequel he repented, was apprehensive lest the enemy should part the two armies, and avail himself of the young Prince’s inexperience and inattention to fall upon him, and he sent him orders therefore to come back; and following his own messengers, he advanced impatiently by long marches, whilst Seradj-ed-döulah himself was on his side lessening the distance. The two armies joined at Nàraingur; and Seradj-ed-döulah having hastened to embrace the feet of his grandfather,\(35\) filled the old man’s heart with inexpressible joy. The two armies now cantoned themselves at Midnip8r.
This moment of rest seemed to give rise to much heart-burning amongst the officers of the army, and to numberless divisions and discontents. Great discoveries were made in the finances, as well as in the administration of the army. One Qhadja-abdol-hady-qhan, a Cab8lian by birth, who was an officer of Cavalry, although none of the considerable ones, came one day together with his countryman, Séyd-mahmed-yessáol, and was introduced by Gholam-hossëin-qhan, Superintendent of the hall of audience. They both represented that the “collusion between the Accomptant’s office, on one side, and the Paymaster-General and the officers on the other, was such, that the musters were shockingly overcharged, and immense sums made away; so that not one-fourth of the men borne upon the books would upon examination prove to be effective; that for a proof of their assertion, they appealed to their own case, which was exactly such, and similar to what would come out to be the case of every brigade, and every corps in the army, upon the slightest examination; in one word, that to put the case of every brigade beyond dispute, they wanted no more than to be entrusted for one day with the mustering of the troops.” This speech struck the Viceroy with amazement; and the discovery being so very important, the request was complied with, and orders were given to the treasury, and to the several officers, to attend on those two men, and to be obedient to their commands. When to every one’s surprise and amazement, every one of the officers of the troops proved to be struck with confusion and dismay, like so many men that had lost their wits. The two inspectors having agreed together to mind neither rank nor station, nor recommendation, brought forth such a scene of villainy, collusion, and peculate, as covered every one of them with eternal shame; and they supported their assertions, by such undeniable proofs, that it appeared as clear as day-light, that an officer of the army, who received pay for seventeen hundred horse, could not muster so many as eighty or even seventy; and that most of those that were borne for a thousand, could not shew so many as a hundred. These were strange discoveries indeed; and from thence the difference arising throughout the whole army may be easily guessed.\(36\) The two discoverers were loaded with presents, and preferments, and were daily advancing in favour; but they became objects of taunt and reproach, and they gave rise to a general discontent, and to many heart-burnings. It seems that every party acted wrong in this affair; neither ought these men to have carried their animosity and private interest so far; nor ought the army to have been guilty of such enormous collusions. Still less did it become Aaly-verdy-qhan, in a time of war, and at the beginning of a campaign, to examine so minutely into such a discovery; especially as those Commanders had always served him well, and had never spared their pains nor their blood; and as such an inquiry at such a time might have had fatal consequences, he ought to have remembered these verses of the poet:
| “Nothing but dust is to be seen in this plain immense; |
| Let us go quickly over it with our eyes shut up.” |
Whilst all Bengal resounded with this discovery, news came that the Marhattas having turned the Bengal army, were proceeding to M8rsh8d-abad by rapid marches through the hilly country. Aaly-verdy-qhan who was bent on engaging those ravages by all means, and who did not trust either the troops or the deputy he had left in his capital, decamped from Midnip8r, and came back to Bardevan. There he learned that the enemy who did not like a close engagement, and who dreaded his very name, had again retreated behind the hills westward of M8rsh8d-abad.
It was during this march he learned that Fahr-eddin-hossëin-qhan had either by the neglect or connivance of his guards, found means to effect his escape, and to make his way good to Mir-habib and to the Marhattas; but he soon became tired of his new friends. Bred with delicacy, he had never known but by hearsay what bodily pain might be; and he no sooner saw himself amongst those new friends of his with nothing but his horse for all carriage, and nothing but scanty meals for all table, than his spirits failed. Finding himself harassed by long marches and daily toil, he took a disgust to such a way of life, and quitted the Marhattas, to repair to Shah-djehan-abad; where with the money and jewels which he had found means to transmit thither by the channel of some Bankers of P8rania and Maldah, some time before his captivity, he made a shift to live comfortably; but soon falling into a melancholy state of mind, that incessantly preyed upon his spirits, he departed his life and went to join his departed father.
We have left the Viceroy in full pursuit of the Marhattas, and at a loss to know where they might be. At this very conjuncture, there came a Zemindar of the hilly country, who represented “That if His Highness would accept him for his guide, he knew how to carry his victorious troops, by such secret ways, as would enable them to surprise the Marhattas in their retreats.” His proposal was accepted; and the Zemindar Strange behaviour of a Zemindar who had offered himself for a guide. being ordered upon an elephant, where he was watched, the army marched under his direction; but on the third day of the march, it was found that the Zemindar had plunged a poniard in his own bowels. The man having been sent for, and asked the reason of his behaviour, he answered, “That having lost his way, and fearing to be punished for it, he had thought it better to make away with himself.” This accident disconcerted the Viceroy, who unwilling to engage farther in an unknown, uninhabited country, thought it seasonable to march back; and he returned to Bardevan, where he took up his quarters in a seat and garden, belonging to Manic-chund, Divan to the Radja of the country. It was in the most delightful spot which that whole tract could afford; and he intended to tarry there, until he should receive certain intelligence about the motions and encampment of the Marhattas. It was in this seat that Mir-djaafer-qhan, who had received orders to quit the city, where he served under the orders of the Deputy-Governor, and then to repair with his troops to camp, arrived and paid his respects to the Viceroy, who received him very ill. Since the discovery about the deficiencies in the army, he was exceedingly dissatisfied with the conduct of this officer, who had been this longwhile Paymaster-General of the forces. The Viceroy after severely reproaching him for his shameless malversations, commanded him to dismiss his own brother, Mir-ismail from the office of Deputy-Paymaster, and to appoint Qhadja-haddy-qhan in his stead. The officer tergiversed, but at last was obliged to comply with the order.
In a few days intelligence came that the Marhattas had again turned towards Midnip8r; and the Viceroy, whose foremost wish was to engage those ravagers, marched thither directly, after having, as he thought, dismissed Seradj-ed-döula to M8r-shood-abad. For it was here that this young Prince gave tokens of his impatience for reigning; and it was here he endangered his grandfather’s life by the deep impression which such a precipitancy made upon his mind.
It must be remembered that the poor man’s uncle, the late Mehdi-nessar-qhan, was a man of acknowledged merit, especially in military matters, where he was remarkable both for conduct and personal prowess; so that few men could be compared to him. After he had lost his beloved master, Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan, by so lamentable a death, he had entertained thoughts of attaching himself to Aaly-verdy-qhan; but finding that the Viceroy did not pay a sufficient attention to him, he resolved to push himself in the world, in whatever conjunctures time should give a rise to; or should it prove unfavourable, he was resolved to leave the world altogether, and to think only of eternity, and of his salvation, since after all, the end of all wordly things is death.
Full of his plan, he attached himself to Seradj-ed-döulah, whose rising ambition he had guessed. But Mehdi-nessar-qhan’s turn of mind had found so little favour at Court, that this officer being once in conversation with Aaly-verdy-qhan, that Prince who was a clear-sighted man, observing that he spoke with as much boldness as he acted, became desirous of parting his grandson from such a councellor. However it was in vain; for Mehdi-nessar-qhan, informed of this resolution, had determined to be beforehand with him; and we are certain that he spoke to Seradj-ed-döulah in those very terms: “Your grandfather loves you so dearly, that he cannot part with you for a moment; and, on the other hand, he has such a mistrust of your years, and of your rising notions about your being intitled to freedom, power, and a participation of authority, that he wishes to keep you totally ignorant of business, so that you may never pretend to dispute his will, or to aspire at that degree of independence which you are intitled to; for by the right of inheritance, as well as by your personal character for capacity, you are above all your relations, being confessedly the flower of your family, and the flambeau\(37\) of your grandfather’s posterity; and thanks to God, you are now become a man, and have ceased to be a child. So much submission looks unbecoming at your age, and with your pretensions and rights. Should you quit the camp, and repair to Azim-abad, it would not prove a difficult matter to pull down Djankiram, a poor Gentoo, who is only your deputy, and who will do as he shall be bid. After you shall have produced your person to the world in that manner, your uncle shall have no other party left, but that of acting in conformity to your will.”
Such a speech could not fail to make the deepest impression on such a man as Seradj-ed-döulah. He listened attentively to the advice, but kept it in his heart for use; and it becomes highly probable that some measures were already concerted. For Mehdy-nessar-qhan, about the middle of the year 1163, re;signed the service, and repaired to M8rsh8d-abad, from whence he continued his journey with a few friends to Azim-abad; and it happened at that same time that Aaly-naki-qhan, that younger brother of mine, (who am the most inconsiderable of mankind) who on some disgust had quitted Sáyd-ahmed-qhan’s service at P8rania, to attach himself with a body of two hundred horse to Seradj-ed-döulah, now became equally disgusted with the latter, and resigned that service, resolved to repair to Azim-abad likewise with intention to seek his fortune at the Imperial Court. But this resolution having greatly affected me, who then lived at P8rania, where I was greatly considered by Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, but could not bear to part with one to whom I bore so much affection, I sent for him to P8rania, and with many intreaties I engaged Sáyd-ahmed-qhan to give him service again; and that affair ended to my satisfaction. Aaly-verdy-qhan was at that time encamped at Midnip8r, where not being able to get any intelligence of the motions of the Marhattas, he had returned to his old cantonments with intention to remain there. For as the possession of the Castle of that place seemed to have been all along their main object; and Háider-aaly-qhan, the Governor of it, seemed for want of a sufficient force, incapable to preserve that stronghold from those invaders, the Viceroy resolved to pass the season in it; and having ordered that the palace and other buildings there should be put in repair and even enlarged, he sent for his veiled ones\(38\) from M8rsh8d-abad, and published that the army ought to provide themselves with necessaries to pass the rainy season in that neighbourhood. This order could not fail to constern both the officers and soldiers, who tired with the length of this campaign, expected to return home at the beginning of the rains. They now lost the hopes of meeting their families this year; but yet submitted to their fate, and every one commenced providing himself with a cahut, and some covering of thatch or straw. Some days passed in this manner, every one thinking they would now repose for a whole season; when at once it became known that Seradj-ed-döulah, after having dispatched a Seradj-ed-döulah elopes and revolts. short note to Mehdy-nessar-qhan at Azim-abad, to acquaint him with his resolution, had set out for that place, carrying no one with him, but L8tf-en-nessa,\(39\) a bond-maid of his that engrossed his affections. Putting this young lady with her mother in his own Rutt or covered carriage, he had set out for that place, being drawn by an excellent pair of those oxen\(40\) that make usually thirty or forty cosses in a day. When this intelligence was brought to the Viceroy, he was conversing with Hussëin-c8ly-qhan, and Hassen-reza-qhan, and a few other persons of distinction. It would be difficult to describe the effect it had immediately upon him. His colour changed; his features altered; his body shook; his hands trembled; and without speaking a single word, or minding anything else, he got up immediately, mounted his Paleki, and only with a small number of friends and servants that proved to be at hand, he advanced, like one in an alienated state of mind, as far as Divanki-serái; and not finding his darling there, he sent some trusty persons forwards who overtook him, and made use of every motive that could bring him back. Seradj-ed-döulah unmoved by their entreaties, was pushing forwards at an incredible rate. Letters at the same time arrived from the Deputy-Governor qf M8rsh8d-abad, mentioning that he had himself run after the young Prince, without being able to overtake him; but that those that had, had been received very bluntly, having had no other answer than these few words: If you contìnue to run after me, I will make away with myself; upon which the envoys had returned much confounded at his obstinacy. On this intelligence the Viceroy seemed to lose his wonted gravity and firmness of mind; so that leaving the command of his army to Mir-djaafer-qhan and to Radja D8l8bram, he took only his guards with a few friends, and set out for M8rsh8d-abad, going at such a rate, that notwithstanding the rain, the mire, and the bad roads, he had gained eight long stages in four days’ time and was arrived at M8rsh8d-abad, having constantly marched from morning till night. There he tarried only one day; and he set out the next morning for Azim-abad, having first wrote to Seradj-ed-döulah in the terms of an impassionate lover, who supplicated the favour of his shewing once more that beloved face of his to an alienated old man, whose sole delight in his old age centred in that enjoyment. He added some reasonings to engage him to abandon his project, but it was in such a condescending manner, as might not give offence. The letter was delivered to Seradj-ed-döulah at Baghalp8r; and he answered it immediately in these words: “Your Highness, with all these demonstration of love, attention and condescendence is keeping my enemies about your person, and raising them to high dignities and eminent commands;\(41\) for instance. Hussëin-c8ly-qhan. Whilst I, whom you say to be your darling, am kept without either office or employment, and am in fact in a state of depression and contempt, when compared to him. The proof of which is, that on my returning from Bardevan, not one man was at the trouble of coming to my encounter to receive me. To Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, P8raniah has been given in full sovereignty. His brother, Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, is lording it all over Bengal; but for me there is nothing in store, but fair words, and caresses, and expressions of love; nor has anything been done for me, that might raise my character, or increase my influence, or give me some importance in the eyes of my relations and friends, or in the estimation of the world; and now, that I am going to take possession of my father’s estate, I am, forsooth, to be cajoled out my right. I advise your Highness to beware of advancing farther; for the consequence of a step of that nature may be such, as that your head shall fall into my lap, or my own shall be made fast to your elephant’s foot.” So animated an answer, although given only verbally, was repeated with exactitude; and Seradj-ed-döulah having found it just, continued his flight. The answer being faithfully reported to the Viceroy, it made a most unexpected effect. He on a sudden became easy in his mind; and he betrayed several tokens of satisfaction and joy; but when the messenger came to the last part of his message, the old man broke his silence, and could not help screaming out: My head in his lap! or at his Elephant’s foot! It is the utmost wish of my heart. As to his head, how didst thou dare, you fellow, to mention it in my presence in this manner? This said, he wrote another letter, full of the most tender expressions, and such as he thought capable of softening the young man’s mind; and he sent it immediately by an express. “This letter contained the most passionate expostulations, with the humblest excuses; and it ended by a request to think better of an old man’s tenderness, and more seriously of his own resolution, as well as of the erroneous conceptions he had imbibed. My dearest one,” said he, “you complain without real foundation; and you have erroneously conceived the very reverse of what has been all along my intention for you. Hear then my humble petition. It is in these terms: Command to my dominions, and to all the world, besides. It is the utmost aim of my schemes, and the only scope of my fond wishes.” At the bottom of the letter, he added these four verses in his own hand:—
| “The warrior who goes alone into the field in quest of martyrdom, |
| Unaware that the martyrs of the field of love suffer still more than he |
| Runs the risk of hearing at the Day of Judgment his own condemnation in |
| these words: |
| Two lovers lie buried here; the one slain by the foe, the other killed by love.” |
But whilst the Viceroy was endeavouring to reclaim his grandson, and to write love letters, the latter was pushing forwards; and he was already arrived at Ghyássp8r, from whence he forwarded a letter to Mehdi-nessar-qhan, to give him notice “that trusting to his promises he had quitted the Royal state, he enjoyed in Bengal, to come so far; and that he expected now that he would be so good as his word, and would come in the state and manner agreed between them.” It must be observed that Mehdy-nessar-qhan had already and before the arrival of the letter, embarked his family and furniture in boats which he intended to dispatch to Ghazip8r; his intention being to exert himself to the utmost, if Seradj-ed-döulah should come; and if he should not, then he was resolved to take his servants and friends with him and to repair to Shah-djehan-abad; for he doubted in his mind whether Seradj-ed-döulah would act up to what had been agreed to between them or could undertake such a mighty enterprise; and such was he in his temper of mind, when the letter in question came to hand. On seeing which he sent for the poor man’s mother (a lady whom he considered as his own), and to whom he bore the tenderest respect, with the most filial attachment; and he shewed her the letter, informing her of Seradj-ed-döulah’s arrival, and requesting her opinion. The lady astonished at what she heard, answered in these terms, which do so much honor to her understanding: “Brother, you will never be able to cope with Aaly-verdy-qhan; and although the man, who commands here, is only a Gentoo and a writer, nevertheless he is his deputy; and with the force he can muster, he will be able to reduce a hundred such ones as yourself. As to Seradj-ed-döulah, he is Aaly-verdy-qhan’s grandson, and the grandfather is doating upon him. His coming so far will do him no great harm; they will join again, and become one again, like sugar and milk that have got a slight simmering; nor shall you be found to have done much more than to have sought your own death to no purpose at all. Your boats are these many days ready. Embark your consort and your daughter, and dispatch them immediately; and as to yourself, get upon a fleet horse, and disappear from hence.” This was a salutary advice; but Mehdy-nasser-qhan retained already by the point of honor, and controuled by the strong hand of destiny, constantly answered the entreaties of that sensible lady only with these words: Had not Seradj-ed-döulah come so far, I should be gone; and I was ready to go; but now that he is arrived, I cannot retreat without losing my character, and without exposing myself to the reproach of pusillanimity and ungenerousness. After such a desertion I will never be able to bear the sight of my acquaintances. As to the rest, if I am to live, and we are able to turn away this Bengally writer, Aaly-verdy-qhan shall not meddle with us; nor shall dominion and sovereignty escape our hands; and if my time draws to an end, then I must submit; nor is it an unknown adage, that whoever is to be buried in the morning, will never sleep in his bed that evening. After having said so much, he took his final resolution, embarked his family, entrusted my mother with some jewels and some vessels of gold and silver (which he destined to his daughter), and quitting his house, he set out at the dawn of the day to meet Seradj-ed-döulah, whom he found at the town of Ghyássp8r called Bar; and after a short conference, he dispatched letters in his name as well as in his own to the officers and Commanders residing at Deher-banga, and on the northern shore of the Ganga, inviting them under great promises to come over and join Seradj-ed-döulah. He wrote to some other persons likewise; and there was a probability of his being shortly at the head of an army; for letters were coming from most of them, in which they were professing their readiness to embrace his party, and announcing their departure. This much is certain, that numbers that had already marched, were obliged to go back, on hearing that Mehdy-nessar-qhan was dead, and that the undertaking had miscarried; for Mehdy-nessar-qhan had such a talent for engaging people in his interest, and such a command over the hearts of military men, that there was no doubt of his being able to get himself followed; nor do I remember to have seen or heard that he had been at any time surpassed or even equalled by any one in that important qualification. After the conference with my mother he took up his abode in Djaafer-qhan’s garden, where Seradj-ed-döulah was already; and that spot was soon resorted to by the inhabitants of Azim-abad, and all the persons of note from the neighbourhood. And now a message was sent to Djankiram, the Deputy-Governor, commanding his attendance. The man was stunned by the message, and he fell headlong in a sea of astonishment and incertitude. “To pay Seradj-ed-döulah a visit, might be found fault with by Aaly-verdy-qhan, who would object that government and sovereignty did not admit of such complaisances and such submissions; and to stand upon a defence, in which Seradj-ed-döulah might come to any harm, would prove an irremissible crime for which no circumstances and no plea of necessity would avail with so impassionate a lover as Aaly-verdy-qhan, who would not fail to put him to death; the old man’s doating fondness for the young Prince being of such a nature, as admitted of no regard for any thing else.” At last he took to the expedient of sending a shrewd man to sound the ford; and this was Mustapha-c8ly-qhan, a brother of Seradj-ed-döulah’s father-in-law. This nobleman was requested to examine Seradj-ed-döulah’s disposition, and to discover what were his real intentions. Mustapha-c8ly-qhan paid his respects, and commenced discoursing on a variety of subjects. The young Prince had been warned beforehand by Mehdy-nessar-qhan not to speak to any of the messengers that would be sent by Djankiram, nor even to admit them in his presence, lest they should come to discover his real intention, and to discourage their master from coming in person. Seradj-ed-döulah, who both from the impatience of youth, and from natural imbecility, was incapable of concealing a secret, disclosed it at once to Mustapha-c8ly-qhan, requesting him at the same time to bring Djankiram over. The envoy, who was an able, well spoken man, immediately promised to comply with his pleasure; and he was dismissed with regard and honor. By one of those strokes of destiny, it happened that when Mustapha-qhan was introduced, Mehdy-nessar-qhan was out, and intent upon some business; so that this nobleman whose very admission he wanted to prevent, went away quietly after a long conference. Mustapha-qhan being gone in this manner, gave full information to Djankiram; and the latter who was preparing to wait on Seradj-ed-döulah, now ordered the gates of the city-walls to be shut up, and guards to be stationed everywhere, whilst himself took his post in the castle. This intelligence was no sooner brought, than Seradj-ed-döulah, who was incapable of dissembling or of containing himself, wanted to set out immediately, to get the gates opened, and to rub that Gentoo’s ears (for such was his expression), being abundantly confident that no one would dare to fire at him, or even to touch his person. Mehdy-nessar-qhan represented, “that gates were not to be opened in that manner; nor fortresses to be taken by sixty or seventy men; and that the whole depended on his taking patience a few days more, when he would have an army at his command.” This rational observation served only to precipitate matters. That foolish young man, who had no discernment enough to distinguish between a proper and an improper moment, and betwixt good and bad advice, answered bluntly: It is upon your words and your promises I have parted with an Empire, or at least with the Royal state I enjoyed, and am come so far; and you want now to skulk from a little fighting? Mehdy-nessar-qhan, who had never been of such a temper, as to put up with reproaches in that style, replied with warmth, and spoke in these words: “Had you listened to sober counsel, you would not have admitted into your presence people that came to sound your intentions; nor would you have all at once informed them of your secrets. Now informed they are. The game has escaped out of your net, and has escaped, because you have opened the net yourself. The Gentoo is now put upon his guard; and now after all that, you with only these sixty or seventy men that are about your person (all of whom surely cannot be men of valour and capacity), you want no less than to take castles, and to conquer provinces? Absurd! In two or three days, at most, numerous troops will be flocking to you from all parts, and then it will be time to think of bringing this affair to the conclusion which you wish.” To all this that ignorant, imprudent young man answered nothing, but the very words he had already uttered; and Mehdy-nessar-qhan unwilling to retreat on one hand, and convinced on the other that matters were taking a desperate turn, at once took his resolution and resolved to die. Accordingly he put some affairs in order, passed the whole night in prayers and in recommending himself to the divine mercy; and at day-break he displayed the standard of prowess. So that at the head of his sixty men, he advanced to take the fortress of Azim-abad. This event happened at the A. D 1754-55. end of Redjeb, or in the beginning of Shaaban, in the year 1163 of the Hedjra. This handful of men was then at the eastern gate; and as the wall of that part appeared steep, and thronged with armed men, he, under pretence of going to visit the monument of his dear master, Zin-eddin-ạhmed-qhan, mounted the young Prince upon his own horse, and advanced thither on foot, inclining towards a small gate that goes by the name of the Wicket of the Begum’s quarters. But as that part, although somewhat lower, was likewise found guarded by armed men, especially by those commanded by the Gentoo Mehta-djesvent-nagur, a relation of Radja Dia-bahadyr, an engagement took place, and a firing commenced from the wall. Mehdy-nessar-qhan having placed Seradj-ed-döulah with a few men in a particular spot at the foot of the rampart, where he was under cover and safe, went himself with the rest, and proceeded still by the foot of the wall, looking out for some easier ascent\(42\); and having found one at last, he Strange attack of the city of Azim-abad by sixty men. got over it with most of his men slightly wounded, and even with an arrow lodged in his own arm. Some others, like Emanet-qhan, with a few more, got in by a water-course, that had been enlarged by the rain; and having opened the gate from within, they introduced Seradj-ed-döulah with the few men that were with him; so that this particular part of the city-wall was evacuated by the garrison; and the way into the city was left open and free. Mehdy-nessar-qhan with a Dajma upon his person, and a sabre in his hand, was advancing on foot in a menacing posture at the head of his friends, who were followed by Seradj-ed-döulah mounted upon Mehdy-nessar-qhan’s horse; nor did he meet with any obstruction in his way, until he found himself at the gate of my mother’s apartment, over against Hadji-gundj, betwixt which and the Begum’s quarter, the ground is full of houses. There Djankiram made his appearance with all the apparatus of war. He was mounted on his elephant, preceded by some field-pieces and rockets, and a large number of men; but notwithstanding that appearance of firmness, he looked like one amazed and confounded, and in dread of what might happen. Hassen-aaly-qhan with his body of troops preceded him; and the two parties met about the chock or market-place, facing the castle gate. His people could not amount to less than four thousand men, besides the garrison spread upon the walls. On sight of this Emanet-qhan, one of Mehdy-nessar-qhan’s friends and followers, a man of great courage and prowess, brandished his spear, and spurring his horse, he threw himself amongst those that followed Hossëin-aaly-qhan, and had formed a line extending southwards betwixt the castle-gate and the market-place. But not one of those men had the courage to face that warrior. They all gave way at once; and skulking in the shops, and behind the stalls, they were firing upon him from under cover. The man like a courageous lion, that has got amongst a herd of timorous deer, was now falling upon one, and then rushing upon another; until some one getting upon the top of a house, or into some other lofty part, took aim leisurely, and shot him in the head; and that brave man falling from his horse, spent his life honourably in the field of braves. Just at this time Mehdy-nessar-qhan was advancing still at the head of his small troop; and numbers of the enemy, who knew him personally, were calling out to him, to have pity on himself, and to forbear advancing. Some of his people were making the same entreaties; but these words served only to raise his anger; and turning to these latter, he answered: These words of yours do not suit my circumstances at present. Let any one of you who loves me better than he does himself, step forth and march before me. It must be observed that whilst Emanet-qhan was engaged, Mirza-medar-begh the Decanian, seeing his friend’s danger, called out to his two sons and to his son-in-law, to follow him; and spurring his horse directly, he advanced to his assistance with two or three more; but before he could come up, Emanet-qhan was already slain,—and himself after having done much execution both with his spear and then with his sabre, was shot dead from a house; so that his sons and son-in-law seeing him fall, fled from that scene of slaughter; but having in their flight mixed with the few that were with Mehdy-nessar-qhan, they bore down their ranks, and communicated their own fears; so that these also commenced skulking about and dispersing. As the street was narrow, and it could not hold more than six horses in front, the five or six runaways, by running full speed amongst them, made them give away; and some of these availed themselves of the shelter afforded by houses and shops. Mehdy-nessar-qhan being then close to the Cotval’s Chabotra or tribunal, got in a shop; and as soon as the runaways were gone, he came out again, with his sabre in his hand, and continued advancing; but by this time one half of his followers had disappeared; and the rest disheartened by the flight of Medar-beg’s sons, and by the desertion it had occasioned, were hardly to be kept together, and they often turned about to look behind. At the heels of the runaways, arrived Mehta-djesvent-nagur, armed and quilted\(43\); and as A singular combat between two noblemen equally stout and brave. he knew Mehdy-nessar-qhan personally, he called out to him: “My Lord Qhan, you have got over the wall at the spot where I commanded, and have of course occasioned a stain upon my character; but still you are my acquaintance and friend. Why do you expose yourself in such a manner? It is not too late yet to be gone. For God’s sake, begone directly, and live.” These words seemed to excite both a smile and some peevishness in Mehdy-nessar-qhan. He answered with warmth: Pray, what do you mean, Mr. Mehta, by such counsels, and so much care of me at this time? You and I are now foes to one another. After having said so much with a deal of warmth, he recollected himself, and added these two verses of the poet:
| “Stand forth now with whatever thou canst muster of manliness and courage; |
| Brandish thy sabre, thy poniard, thy battle-axe, and thy spear!” |
This answer overcame Mehta-djesvent’s reluctance. He bore in the world a great character for both valour and bodily strength; and finding himself challenged, and his character at stake, he was, against his own inclination, obliged to stand forth; but, however, to bring matters upon a par, he quitted his horse and spear, advanced on foot, and engaged. Mehdy-nesser-qhan on seeing him within reach, gave him a violent stroke on the neck, which was parried only in part; and this was the time to finish him with another stroke; but his vigour was supported by none of his people; else, it is indubitable that had Djesvent-nagur been slain, the enemies would have been struck with terror, as they were already looking behind; nor had Mehdy-nessar-qhan’s people anything more to do than to move to his assistance, in which case there is no doubt but the enemy would have given way. But none moved; so far were they from such an exertion, that whilst Mehdy-nessar-qhan was actually engaged, he was observed to look back, and to say such a one, I did not expect that from thee. Whilst the two combatants were advancing against each other (and this was close to a spot called the Hadji’s corner), one Mir-ashruff, an officer of note and a great friend of Mehta-djesvent’s, came out of a door close to Mehdy-nessar-qhan’s left, and he called out to that hero, advising him to retire. The other having not only answered in an angry tone and with foul language, but also forbidden him to coming near, if he valued his own life, the man shocked at the tone and expression, fell back a little; and taking a circuit, he came suddenly behind, and gave that hero a back stroke of his sabre upon both legs, which threw him on the ground; and then only that heroical man, whose head deserved a Crown, then only was he finished by Mehta-djesvent. On sight of this, Seradj-ed-döulah, who was a rank coward, turned briddle and fled full speed, taking to the street that lead to Mustapha-c8ly-qhan’s lodgings; and his people at the same time sheltered themselves, every one into some corner. At a little distance behind Mehdy-nessar-qhan fell two or-three persons, much wounded with musquet-balls, amongst which was one Mirza-sanghy, a descendant of one of the saints revered by Séif-qhan; and he accompanied that brave man into the regions of eternity. Mehta-djesvent, although much wounded and with the blood streaming from his cheek and neck, accompanied rather than pursued Seradj-ed-döulah to Mustapha-c8ly-qhan’s lodgings, being fearful of Aaly-verdy-qhan’s resentment; and this nobleman hearing of the Prince’s coming, advanced on foot out of his gate, and received him with great respect, sparing nothing either in personal attendance or in anything else, that might render his abode agreeable. So that Mehta-djesvent having seen the Prince safe, recommended him to the Qhan, and returned to his lodgings. As to Mehdy-nessar-qhan’s body, now lying lifeless, Djankiram had the meanness to order that high-born head of his to be severed from the body, and the latter to be hung at the eastern gate; but on a representation from some officers of his own troops, he gave leave for its being taken down, and then purified, and inhumed with the accustomed rites and decence. The valorous and unfortunate Séyd was buried in his glorious father’s monument, which is in a corner of Lon-gola, where also they buried, but without the monument, the few men that had fallen by his side.
Verse:
| “Such is the end of everything in this world; such it is.” |
May God Almighty’s forgiveness rest upon him; and may he have obtained a place amongst his pious and intrepid ancestor’s! Amen. Djankiram having seen Mehdy-nessar-qhan dead, and heard that Seradj-ed-döulah was safe, thought he had come in the world a second time; and like one that had recovered a new life, he went into the castle, and there sat in all the pride of success and self-applause.
Whilst all this was happening at Azim-abad, Aaly-verdy-qhan was arriving about Bar, all the while in the most excruciating fears about what might have befallen the object of his love. He had made haste with all the impatience of an impassionate lover; and his heart fluttered like a moth at the near approach of the flame emitted by that beautious face of his beloved one. Arrived at Bar, he learned what had happened; and now commencing to respire with freedom, he sent Seradj-ed-döulah a message full of love and tenderness. This was carried by Séyd-assed-ollah-qhan, a nobleman of consequence, who had accompanied the Viceroy in this voyage. The Qhan who was a man of sense, executed his commission in a manner that soothed and gained Seradj-ed-döulah’s mind, hitherto much alienated from his uncle; and the young Prince expressed a desire of seeing his venerable ancestor. The intelligence overpowered the old man; on hearing that his darling had set out on his journey, he lost his usual temper of mind, and betrayed all the levity of the most youthful joy and the most unruly exultation; and matters came so far that this mountain of seriousness and gravity became as light and as unsteady as a feather exposed to the wind. So that he betrayed such signs of restlessness as surprised every one of those that knew him this longwhile. He was endlessly speaking of his beloved; and where he might be now; and how far he night have advanced this evening; and where he might be to-morrow; nor was anything else to be had from his mouth. But when he heard that the young man was arriving, his exultation overleapt all bounds. Unable to contain himself any more, he ordered the wall of his tent-yard to be thrown down, that he might descry from afar the object of his love; and as soon as he saw his Paleky set down, he prostrated himself on the ground, to acknowledge his arrival as a special favour from the Almighty. Seradj-ed-döulah having drawn near, alighted, and marching with a quick pace,\(44\) he hastened to throw himself at his grandfather’s feet. The old man threw both his arms round his neck, and drawing him to his bosom, he kept him close to it for a length of time with all the emotions of the most enthusiastic tenderness; after which he prostrated himself again and returned a long thanksgiving for so signal a benefit. A moment after he made him mount with him, and proceeded to the city of Azim-abad, where amongst throngs of a multitude that loved his person, and were attached to his family, he alighted at one of those buildings raised by Seradj-ed-döulah’s father, on the shore of the Ganga, and he sat on a Mesned there, giving audience to all comers. But as Seradj-ed-döulah continued incensed against Djankiram for what he called his boldness, and for what the other had been forced to by the duties of his station, Aaly-verdy-qhan himself took the part of an intercessor, and sent him to the young Prince, with injunctions to implore his forgiveness. The young Prince out of regard to his grandfather’s intercession, received him with condescendence, and dismissed him with honour. This reconciliation having pacified every one, and there appearing no reason in the world for tarrying in those parts, the Viceroy, whose thoughts were now engrossed by his army, which he had left at Midnip8r, under Generals which he did not trust, resolved to return immediately; and he therefore sent for Djankiram, gave him a dress of confirmation, and taking Seradj-ed-döulah with him, he set out for M8rsh8d-abad. But the old man who had hitherto been a prey to all the agitations of a distracted mind, was now seized by a hot fever, which in a few days rose to an alarming height; nor was there in those parts any other physician of character, but Doctor Tadj-eddin, who immediately received orders to accompany him; and he did not spare his care and attendance. Aaly-verdy-qhan impatient to reach the end of his journey, was hastening down the river by boat; but as none was so well acquainted with his constitution as the honourable, the illustrious and respectable Doctor Haddi-qhan the Hashemite, neveu to that seal and complement of Doctors, the reservoir of physicial and philosophical learning, the Galen of his time, Doctor Oluvi-qhan; he sent a trusty person to request his attendance; and that illustrious Qhan having immediately set out, overtook his noble patient at Radjemahl, where he so sedulously applied all the strength of his art to that important cure, that he prevented the fever from doing more mischief, and kept it under controul; in so much that the Viceroy arrived at his palace in the height of his distemper. But such was his confidence in his physician, Haddy-aaly-qhan, that he left entirely in his disposal everything that could pertain to the use of simples or compounds, resolved to do nothing without consulting him; and it must be acknowledged that this Plato of his time was endowed with a breath as healing as that of the Messiah,\(45\) and had not his equal in the art of administering remedies and restoring health. In a little time the Prince’s distemper took to its decline, and he recovered apace. After his recovery, that lover of learning and that rewarder of merit, honoured the illustrious Qhan with a Qhylaat of the first rank, a Serpich and a Djica of jewels, an elephant of surprising bigness, mounted with his Háodah, and a sum of five thousand rupees. From that period, he made it a point to rise and stand up on his coming to see him; and not satisfied with that mark of respect, he conferred upon him several honourific distinctions of the highest kind; and moreover ordered that he should ride in Paleky in any part of the palace, without alighting anywhere, but close to the rails of the Terrasse adjoining the hall of audience; a distinction granted to none but to his two sons-in-law, and to Seradj-ed-döulah, his grandson; and these three Princes also were ordered to stand up for him. Aaly-verdy-qhan, on the day he was permitted to bathe,\(46\) ordered sums of money to be distributed to Séyds and to necessitous families of all sorts; and although the rains were not drawing to their end, and he had no apprehension of any incursion or ravage from the Marhattas; nevertheless, as his body continued for a long time in a state of great weakness, he wrote to Radja D8l8bram, and to Mir-djaafer-qhan, to inform them that at the end of the rains, the victorious standards would not fail to take the road of Midnip8r.
Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, the Governor of P8raniah, had received from the Viceroy an invitation to meet him on the road; and he had therefore come down as far as Carangola, where he had prepared a set of magnificent tents, and a sumptuous entertainment for his noble visitor; he also sent me, the poor man, some cosses beyond Carangola, to receive that Prince on the southern shore of the Ganga; but on hearing that he had excused himself on account of his illness, and that he had continued his route to M8rsh8d-abad by the middle of the stream, without touching at either shore, he dispatched his own physician, Mir-mahmed-messih, to attend him, and himself followed immediately; but at his arrival at M8rsh8d-abad he found his task changed into felicitations for the recovery of that precious health. He therefore kissed his grandfather’s feet, venerated his glorious face, and returned his acknowledgments to Heaven for so important a recovery. This unexpected visit furnished Nefissa-begum, mother to the late Nawab Ser-effraz-qhan, with an opportunity of promoting a scheme which she had much at heart. This Princess, who had been taken into Nevazish-mahmed-qhan’s family, where he had given her such a full command over his whole household, that his consort herself, although daughter to Aaly-verdy-qhan, (it was Mehr-en-nessa-begum, better known by the name of Gahassity-bibi), paid her the utmost deference; and both husband and consort were vying with each other in soothing her grief by every demonstration of respect and attention. Nefissa-begum had adopted as her son, a boy born to Ser-effraz-qhan, the very day he was slain at the battle of Gheriah. His name was Aga-baba; and he had become the darling of her heart, and the consolation of her old age. She intended to marry him to one of the daughters of Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, to whom she sent a message by Bibi-Gahassity herself. The Prince declined the match at first; but overcome by the vivacity of her entreaties, and by those of her husband’s, he gave his consent. But as such a match could not be celebrated properly on the part of Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, without assembling his whole family, parentage and kindred, at the head of which was Aaly-verdy-qhan himself; and decency required that the family, parentage, and kindred of the late Ser-effraz-qhan should not be forgotten; it became probable that all that multitude would not choose to repair to P8raniah; and of course it seemed expedient to celebrate the nuptials at M8rsh8d-abad, where Sáyd-ahmed-qhan promised to return for that ceremony, as soon as he should have finished his preparatives at P8raniah, whither he was going for that purpose. In a few days he set out accordingly, loaded with presents and caresses from his father-in-law, with which he returned to his capital, where we shall leave him at present to finish his preparatives, as the conclusion of this affair shall find its place in the sequel, and we must now revert to the affairs of war.
The troops left at Midnip8r under command of Radja D8l8b-ram and Mir-djaafer-qhan, were numerous and sufficient to fight the Marhattas, and to drive them not only from Balasser, but from the whole Oressa. Nevertheless such was the slender opinion entertained of the abilities of the one Commander, and the doubts conceived of the courage of the other; and such was the damp thrown upon the spirits of the army by the very report of their invincible master’s illness, that this same army was now thought unequal to the task; and although circular letters had been sent everywhere to announce his recovery, still they were thought both by friends and foes to be no better than so many contrivances, and so many strokes of policy to conceal the real state of things. It was from such a cause that the troops could not be brought to face the enemy with their wonted alacrity; and the same cause had rendered bolder and adventurous an enemy, who ascribed this backwardness to some other origin. Such a state of things rendered Aaly-verdy-qhan still more anxious to make his appearance in the field. Weak therefore, as he was yet, and feeling still the remains of his illness, he put himself at the head of a numerous body and marched to Midnip8r; The Viceroy againat the head of his troops, forces the Marhattas to a retreat. whilst Radja D8l8bram and Mir-djaafer-qhan advanced from that town to meet their lord in the plain of Bardevan, where they had the honor to kiss his feet. It was in the year 1164. And as the Marhattas on the strength of the Aaly-verdy-qhan’s illness had advanced to Midnip8r, that Prince who always wished for an opportunity to engage them, marched up to them, and the two armies meeting, an engagement took place; when the enemies, according to their rooted custom, fled and left the Prince master of the field of battle. The freebooters unable to stand the brunt of troops accustomed to break their ranks, took to flight; and taking a circuit, they retired into the hills and woody countries that stretch along the west of Bengal. The Viceroy pursued; but as soon as he had approached near enough to come to blows, they fled again, still pursued and still flying; nor did the Bengal army afford them time to take breath, or to stand awhile. At last the Marhattas tired with so obstinate a pursuit, faced about, and returned into the Oressa by the country behind the hills; whilst Aaly-verdy-qhan, disappointed in his pursuit, but resolved to root them out of the country, postponed his expedition to the next year, and with his victorious troops took the road to M8rsh8d-abad, and encamped at Catwa.
This retreat afforded Mir-habib and the Marhatta Generals leisure to consult together on the state of things, so as to be weary of a warfare that had lasted already so many years without producing for them anything but continual toil and endless losses. “They observed that it had served only to inure Aaly-verdy qhan’s The two parties tired of a two years war. troops to hardships and to victory; and at last they concluded that instead of spending their strength in such fruitless campaigns, it was better to come to some terms with the enemy. And as on the other hand, giving up totally their pretensions on the Oressa, and abstaining totally from their views upon Bengal, seemed dishonourable to Rhagodji-bhoslah’s dignity, it was thought proper to submit the matter to Aaly-verdy-qhan himself, under certain conditions.” In consequence of this resolution Mir-habib sent some trusty persons with a message to Mir-djaafer-qhan, who transmitted the same to Court in a proper style and at a proper moment. The Viceroy, accustomed to success and victory, thought it hard to admit such conditions, but yet he submitted to them on a variety of reasons. “The declension of his health, and the necessity of consulting, above all, the ease and tranquillity of his dominions, required such a sacrifice at his hands. He considered that he was now in the seventy-fifth year of his age, broken with the fatigues of ten repeated campaigns against the Marhattas, in which time he had also fought mighty battles with Mustapha-qhan, with Shimshir-qhan, and with some other Afghan Commanders, whose vanquished troops had only served to increase the number of his enemies. That this latter by a warfare which consisted in avoiding all decisive engagements, and in burning the villages, spoiling the harvest, and slaughtering the husbandmen, had contrived a way of managing so as to render his very victories equal to so many defeats. Lastly, the inhabitants of the south of the Ganga, exhausted with eternal ravages, and yearly migrations, panted after some release from their toils, and wished to live henceforward in safety, and in a freedom from endless apprehensions in their homes.” To all these motives may be added that his own inclination was now for peace. “He pronounced a sentence of the Coran relative to the subject, and wrote to Mir-djaafer-qhan, giving him leave to send some trusty persons to Mir-habib’s camp; and he agreed that should any man of sense and character come from that General with such proposals as would be found admissible, they would be listened to; or else, the envoy would have leave to return in all safety.” In consequence of this consent, Mir-djaafer-qhan returned Mir-habib’s envoys in company with two others of his own, namely, Mir-hassen-aaly and Mir-gho8ss-aaly. These two gentlemen informed Mir-habib that Aaly-verdy-qhan consented to listen to an agreement; and that it was now his part to pitch upon a proper personage for treating properly of an affair of that moment. Mir-habib, who did not expect so much condescendence, so sooner heard of this intelligence, which he thought to be an unexpected piece of good luck for him, than he acknowledged it to be now incumbent upon him to carry on his shoulders the trappings of obedience and submission to Aaly-verdy-qhan, and to approve himself submissive to his commands. Pleased with this overture, he appointed Mirza-saleh, a gentleman of character, to accompany Mir-djaafer-qhan’s two envoys; and he gave him order to avail himself of that nobleman’s mediation, to gain access to the Viceroy’s presence. The envoy had orders to profess “his master’s submission to His Highness’s commands, and his firm resolution henceforwards to be obedient to whatever he should be pleased to prescribe.” The envoy having been introduced by Mir-djaafer-qhan, whilst the Viceroy was encamped at Catwa, had the honour to pay his respects, and to follow his stirrup, that unerring guide to success and victory; and it was in his retinue he arrived at M8rsh8d-abad.
Treaty of peace with the Marhattas.Aaly-verdy-qhan being now arrived in his capital, received a respectful letter from Mirza-saleh where it was set forth that his master was now all submission to his commands; having taken a sincere resolution to approve himself henceforwards his obedient servant. Some time having been spent in questions and answers, in a few days the treaty of peace was concluded; and it was on the following terms:—
“That Mir-habib, deemed henceforward to be in the service of the Majestuous in battles, should be invested by him with the honourable office of Deputy to His Highness in the Nizamet or Military Government of the Province of Oressa. That as Deputy-Governor, he should receive orders to appropriate the revenues of that province to the payment of the arrears due to Rhago-dji-bhoslah’s troops. That over and above that assignment, the sum of twelve lacs of rupees should be paid to Rhago-dji’s agents yearly, under condition that the Marhattas would never set their foot again within the dominions of His Highness. Lastly, that the M8tusuddies and the Accomptant-office of Bengal would pay yearly the above sum.”
“That the river Sonamakia, which runs by Ballisser-bender, should henceforward be reputed to be the wall and boundary betwixt the two dominions, and that the Marhatta armies would never offer to cross it, or to put a foot in its waters.”
These conditions having been notified to Mir-habib, were accepted by that General, who sent a paper under his hand and seal, in the form of an obligation, to Aaly-verdy-Qhan; and the negotiation being now concluded, the envoy, Mirza-saleh, was honoured with the appellation of Musaleh-eddin-mahmed-qhan,\(47\) decorated with many favours, and dismissed with the patent of the treaty, and with an elehphant, a Qhylaat of investiture, and several other presents for his master.
This treaty of peace restored tranquillity and security to all the campaigns in Bengal; and as no apprehension remained of any invader, or of any commotion from abroad, Aaly-verdy-qhan made a great reduction in his army; and then turned his views entirely towards rebuilding villages, tilling abandoned lands, cherishing the husbandmen, and recalling to their homes the inhabitants of an infinity of towns, plundered and ruined by the Marhattas. He made the ease of the people as well as of the nobility the foremost care of his mind; and as henceforward the town and province of Midnip8r were to belong to Bengal, he appointed to the Fodjdary of the castle and province Radja Ram-sing, who had been hitherto the Commander of the body of spies in his service, an office in which Ram-sing was succeeded by his brother, Naráin-sing.
It was about this time that Rabiah-begum,\(48\) daughter to Hadji-ahmed, and consort to Ata-ollah-qhan, made her appearance in Bengal. This Princess on her husband’s being banished from Aaly-verdy-qhan’s dominions, had thought proper to follow her lord’s fortunes as far as Lucknow; but the latter having been slain in a battle in which he fought for Nevol-ráy against Amed-qhan-bangash, the Princess availed herself so well of her being a niece to Aaly-verdy-qhan, and she placed so appositely several rich presents, which she distributed to the Grandees of Lucknow, and to the Zemindars of those parts, that she found means to retreat from that dangerous country, and to repair to Azim-abad with all her fortune, riches, furniture, children, family and dependants, great and small. From Azim-abad she went down to M8rsh8d-abad, where she took up her abode under the shade of Aaly-verdy-qhan, her glorious uncle’s protection. It was about this time also that Bir8-dutt, Superintendent of the finances of Bengal, coming to die of an hydropsy, his deputy, Omid-ráy, without being appointed Divan himself, was ordered to attend to the duties of that high office, until Radja Kyret-chund, son to the Ráy-ráyan Aalum-chund, who had been at the head of the Qhalissah-office in Shudjah-qhan’s government, should himself arrive, and take possession of that charge. This Radja Kyret-chund, having some knowledge of grammar and syntax, wrote the Persian more correctly and more elegantly than usually falls to the lot of Gentoos; and he had for sometime been Divan or Prime Minister to Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan at Azim-abad, as we have already mentioned in the foregoing pages. After his master’s death, he attached himself to Ata-ollah-qhan, whom he served as his Divan, and from whom he parted at Banaress, where he remained. From thence he was invited over by several civil letters which Aaly-verdy-qhan wrote him, as an acknowledgment for his having conveyed to him certain important information relative to the finances. Being arrived, he was received with distinction, honoured with a rich Qhylaat in investiture of the Divanship of all Bengal, and at once put in possession of that office, where he thought proper to continue Omid-ráy, as his deputy. Kyret-chund being son to a Minister who had long been at the head of all the accounts of Bengal, and was therefore furnished with many important papers, soon found means to prove undeniable balances against several Zemindars, and some other persons of high rank, but chiefly against Djagat-seat and the Radja of Bardevan. These were all confessed; and the whole, amounting to one coror and some lacs, was paid into Aaly-verdy-qhan’s treasury, to the discoverer’s great credit, and to his master’s great satisfaction, who henceforward reposed an unbounded confidence in him. The new Minister shone in the An immense balance long forgotten, recovered from treasury by a Gentoo Minister. full zenith of power and influence for two full years, after which falling sick of an hemorrhoidal distemper, he quitted this life of strife and contention, and departed to the other world. On his death-bed he recommended Omid-ráy for his successor; and as this man bore a good character, and had already acted as deputy for a length of years, he was honoured with a Qhylaat, decorated with the title of Ráy-ráyan, and appointed head of the Qhalissa or Accomptant-General’s office.
To these two deaths, we must join that of Mir-habib’s, who being now invested with the supreme command in Oressa, came to have it in his option whether he should dismiss or keep that multitude of Afghans which were in the Marhatta service; for such of the national troops as were left in Oressa, were under the immediate command of an officer, related to Rhago-dji, but who was under Mir-habib’s orders, and could do nothing without directions from him. That General, who had the whole management of the money arising from the revenues of that province, and the disposal of the twelve lacs received from Bengal, used to set apart some of those monies for discharging the arrears due to his Afghans, and transmitted the other part to the treasury of Náigp8r; so that for a year and some months he passed his days agreeably at Catec. But at the end of that time, Djano-dji, elder son of Rhagodji-bhoslah, having been sent to Catec, invested with the office of Deputy to his father, and of Commander-in-Chief of all the Marhatta forces kept on foot for the defence of the province, fortune turned her back upon Mir-habib. As there were numbers of persons jealous of his great power, and the M8tusseddies or men of office, especially could not bear that General’s strictness of command and his imperiousness of temper, they incensed the young Djanodji’s mind against him. The young Prince, who presumed much upon his own opinions, and did not always pay an implicit obedience even to his father’s commands, ordered Mir-habib to render his accounts. He sent for that General, made him over to the Accomptant’s office; and that old soldier who had commanded during his whole life, was now obliged to pass the whole day in hearing questions and giving answers. Unfortunately for him, his troops were at some distance from the Marhatta camp, where he actually was; and, what proved still more unlucky, most of the people that had come in his retinue, being tired with the length of the sitting, had gone about their private business; so that in the evening there remained but few of his people to attend his person. Djano-dji seeing this, retired under pretence of performing his devotions, and left the Banglaw\(49\) empty, where the Marhatta soldiers and officers immediately crowded, and sent the General word, that unless he gave an account of the monies which he had received, and unless he left a bond under his hand for the balances which he had appropriated to himself, he would not have leave to depart. The General who trusted to his long and meritorious services, and to his high influence with Rhago-dji, made cheap of Djano-dji’s order; and he wanted to get away with the few people about him, sensible that as soon as he should have escaped to his own camp, no one would think of getting him from thence; but although he brought a variety of excuses, he could not extricate himself out of the claws of his destiny. It was now midnight; and the General convinced that words and reasons would be of no avail, put on his clothes; and with his sabre in his hand (this being now the only weapon left in his power), he exhorted the forty or fifty men that were with him, to fight manfully, and to cut their way through the enemy; for he had concluded that without an express order from the young Prince’s father, matters would have not been carried so far with him. The Marhatta troopers, encamped round his Banglaw, formed an opposition to his retreat. A dispute ensued; and both parties proceeding to blows, Mir-habib, who was on foot and unarmed, and had but a handful of men, was slain as he was pushing forward with ardour; and every one of his followers was either killed or disabled. A few that remained alive, although grievously wounded, were made prisoners. Such a fatal event having soon come to Rhago-dji’s knowledge, could not fail highly to incense that Prince against his son; but it was too late, and the unfortunate Mir-habib, after so many years of toil and expectation, was snatched from the world, at the very time he was preparing to eat some of the fruits of that tree which he had planted with so many pains and dangers. Doubtless so untimely a fate had been ordered by Providence in compensation for the many families he had ruined in his wars, and the many houses he had destroyed in his incursions, in one word, for the many violences he had been exercising all over Bengal by himself or by others these ten years past. He fell, without having yet tasted of the fruit of enjoyment, and irrevocably lost in an instant the hopes of a whole life of toil and fatigue. After his death, Mirza-saleh, the late negotiator of the peace, received the investiture of the Government of Oressa both from Aaly-verdy-qhan and from Rhago-dji. He received a double Qhylaat, and passed his time quietly enough, but far, however, from shewing that firmness of command, and that authority of person, so conspicuous in Mir-habib. Nevertheless he made a shift to go on with a difficult administration, where he was obliged alternately to employ threats and dissimulation and forbearance; but in either case, however, he reckoned himself totally dependent of the Government of Náigp8r, without the least deference to that of Bengal.
This year likewise, and it was at the end of 1165, or at the beginning of the next, Radja Djankiram, the Deputy-Governor of Azim-abad, departed this life, and was succeeded by another Gentoo, Radja Ram-naráan, son to Reng-laal. This latter gentleman had been from his very youth bred in Aaly-verdy-qhan’s family, where he had been first Secretary to Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan at the very beginning of his administration; from thence he was appointed Pish-car or precursor or deputy to the Divan of Prime Minister of Bahar; and in Djankiram’s time he rose so high, as to be promoted himself to that high office, in which he exhibited so many abilities in clearing up the accounts of finances, and so much fidelity in managing its receipts and expenditures, that he came to be worthy of no less a station than that of Deputy-Governor of the province of Azim-abad. He received the investiture of it in a rich Qhylaat, to which was added a serpich, a sabre, and an elephant. This promotion of a Gentoo was followed by another. It was that of Radja D8l8bram who in Djankiram, his father’s time, had been Deputy-Divan of the musters at M8rsh8d-abad, and was reputed one of the trustiest men in Aaly-verdy-qhan’s service. On his father’s death, he received with each of his three brothers a Qhylaat of mourning; and in a few days more he received another that appointed him Divan of the musters in his own sole name; and as he had given the world a great opinion of his abilities and integrity, he was desired by Radja Ram-naráin to act as his Agent-General at the Court of M8rsh8d-abad, and to transact there for him every business that might require a question or an answer, or any other discussion about whatever concerned the administration of Azim-abad.
Aaly-verdy-qhan, now fully employed in pacific occupations that tended to promote the welfare of his people, passed his days pleasantly but regularly. Every day of the week was appointed for some particular business, or some particular object, never to be interfered by any other; a distribution of time which he had always affected, and which greatly contributed to dispatch and regularity. In the winter season he used to repair to Radjmahl, where he enjoyed the pleasures of hunting the stag and the tiger (a diversion of which he was particularly fond), and after having spent his mornings in it, he amused himself with animals fighting together, such as cocks of Decan, and of elephants. At these hunting parties he was always accompanied by his second nephew and son-in-law, Sáyd-mahmed-qhan, who never failed at such times to come down from P8raniah, and sometimes dutifully accompanied his uncle as far as M8rsh8d-abad, where he took that opportunity to make a visit to his elder brother, Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, as well as to the consort and three sons of his younger brother, the unfortunate Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan. This year in particular he had a further motive to repair to the capital, where his elder brother and his consort, Biby-Gahassity, were intreating him to listen to the wishes of Nefissa-begum, who wanted to marry Aga-baba, her adoptive son, to one of Sáyd-mahmed-qhan’s daughters; and exerted every nerve to accomplish that end. The Prince had now brought the intended bride, with all his friends, relations and kinsmen, and every preparative relative to the wedding; when lo! the ceremoney was at once suspended by the premature death of Ecram-ed-döulah, younger brother to Seradj-ed-döulah, a youth Death of Ecram-ed-döulah. who had been adopted in his very craddle by his uncle, Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, who never had any child of his own. The infant was bred with the tenderest care under the eyes of his adoptive father, who doated so much upon him, that a stranger would have taken him for the most impassionate lover. He died of the small-pox, which proved so virulent, as to amaze all the beholders. The moment he ceased to be, a general scream and howling, not unlike that which shall rise at the last judgment, broke forth from every part of the palace, and it was echoed by those that rose in Aaly-verdy-qhan’s palace, and in those of all his relations, all of which became inconsolable. This mournful accident having suspended the match, the father with the bride returned to P8rania. This loss made a deep impression on the adoptive father’s heart. He henceforward lost all relish for the world; became restless and often giddy, sour in his temper, negligent in his dress and person, and totally alienated from every thing, but the tender object of his sorrow. In vain did his consort, in vain did his venerable uncle, try every method to reconcile him to life and enjoyment. Numberless pastimes and amusements were daily offered to his sight; all in vain. The inconsolable lord seemed insensible to any other feeling but that of his loss. Some months after, and it was on the day of the sacrifice, that day of rejoicing and fresh clothes for all mankind, he was visited by Aaly-verdy-qhan, who requested, but in vain, some change of apparel on so great a solemnity. The afflicted man proved deaf; and the Viceroy seing in what condition he was, ordered him to be shifted in his very presence; he also directed his consort and all the ladies of his sanctuary to appear in his presence with clothes suitable to so great a day, so as to attract some attention from him by such a spectacle. The man submitted to everything; but as soon as he was left to himself, he threw away his turbant, dropped his new clothes, and sat disconsolate in his late squalid apparel, the very picture of desolation and despair. He would strike his hands on his head and face, weep bitterly, and vent his grief in the most piercing lamentations, interrupted now and then by deep sobs. I have been disloyal to my love, did he say, wringing his hands together, I have parted with him; have been a faithless lover, an ungrateful friend, but stay, will repair my neglect—It was in this manner he went on consuming his days, a prey to grief and unutterable woe. At last it pleased the Almighty comforter of the afflicted to provide some relief for his mind. A lady that had been attached to the deceased young Prince, and had been left pregnant by him, was in a few months brought to bed of a son; and this lucky event was seized on by Aaly-verdy-qhan to alleviate his nephew’s sorrow. In compliment to his grief, the infant was in his very craddle decorated with the rank of six thousand horse, and the title of M8rad-ed-döulah,\(50\) or the wished-for of the Empire. No insignia, no mark of elevation and eminence were spared for him; he had his fringed Paleki, his Nagara, (or kettle-drum), his insignia of the fish, his standards, and even his Naleki and Taht-revan, or moving throne. The patents of all these distinctions having been supplicated long ago from the Imperial Court, were now carried by the Viceroy himself to his inconsolable nephew, who struck with the newness of the sight, turned his eyes upon the child, amused himself with its smiles, and by degrees conceived a fondness for him; and no less than such a consolation was requisite to make him go on with his own existence. And now to dignities and sounding titles were added employments. The superintendency of the buildings (which is an office of importance) was conferred on the child; and a retinue of mace-bearers, menial servants, gentlemen-ushers, secretaries, equeries, horses, and camels and elephants, as well as a seraglio, having been provided for him, all proportioned to their lord’s size, the child and its diminutive household being sometimes carried along the streets, afforded a diverting spectacle to the whole city. Some persons of character and distinction having been thought of for superintending his education, and some others for watching over its amusements, or partaking of its pleasures, those offices came to be sought for with a deal of emulation, as being deemed a sure road to preferment. It was in this manner the disconsolate man was beguiling his sorrow and grief; but yet, since the accident that had deprived him of his darling, he seemed to be dead to the world. No life seemed to remain in him; and not only his own person was verging to a sensible decay, but his very family, and indeed, the whole of Aaly-verdy-qhan’s family, was withering visibly from that very time. Doubtless the recording hand of an attentive Providence had entered in its registers the behaviour of Hadji-ahmed to Ser-effraz-qhan’s family, after that Prince’s death, behaviour overlooked by Aaly-verdy-qhan, his brother. Hadji-ahmed had rent the veil, the sacred veil, that hung over the deceased’s innermost household. He had cast a prying eye throughout his sanctuary; had given way to a prophane longing for some ladies of his bed; thrown a criminal hand upon some of them; and carried others away by main force. Nor were all those enormities taken notice of by the Viceroy, his brother, who unaware, or more probably unmindful, of his having become by his victory the supreme Magistrate of the country, had the meanness to wink at such atrocities; and as other excesses and other enormities had been exercised also over the deceased’s children, ladies, family, dependants and private estate; so, a like treatment had been invisibly set apart for the perpetrators; and an avenging Providence, that had minutely recorded every one of those excesses, now came upon the victorious family for a full retribution, and a chastisement in kind. In the zenith of the conqueror’s power, such infamies and lewdnesses came to be practised by some females and other persons of his family, as cannot be mentioned with decency, but effectually dishonoured his family for ever. All his daughters, as well as his beloved Seradj-ed-döulah, lapsed into such a flagitious conduct, and they were guilty of such a variety of shameful excesses, as would have disgraced totally any person whatever, still more, persons of their elevated rank and sublime station. It was this darling of his, this beloved Seradj-ed-döulah, who by running up and down the streets, accustomed himself to hold such vile discourses and to commit such unaccountable actions, as amazed every one. Patrolling every street and every lane with a cohort composed of Aaly-verdy-qhan’s children and grand-children, he fell into an abominable way of life, that respected neither rank, nor age, nor sex, but was calculated to prepare from afar the ruin and desol ation of that sublime building of fortune and sovereignty which its founder had been rearing with so much toil and danger. No notice was taken of so flagitious a conduct; and it was on such repeated connivances that the young man commenced a course of enormities that afforded materials, and administered fuel, to the overtaking vengeance of an unerring observer. This conduct, which Aaly-verdy-qhan overlooked in that infatuated young man, turned out to be so natural in him, that at last he became fearless, and was committing daily excesses and violences of all kinds, not only without the least remorse, but also without the least reprimand. He made a sport of sacrificing to his lust almost every person of either sex, to which he took a fancy; or else, he converted them without scruples into so many objects of the malignity of his temper, or the frolics of his inconsiderate youth. And having by this time provided himself with a number of followers consonant to his mind, he commenced a course of insolencies, infamies, and profligacies; and either out of that ignorance, incident to that age, or because of an ardour natural to his constitution (although really it was because of his perfect reliance on his uncle’s forbearance), such a course of life became in him his real character. This is so far true, that he was observed to be low spirited and melancholy, whenever he fell short of opportunities to commit his usual excesses and enormities; and they became so customary to him, that he acted all along without a grain of remorse, or a spark of recollection. Making no distinction betwixt vice and virtue, and paying no regard to the nearest relations, he carried defilement wherever he went; and like a man alienated in his mind he made the houses of men and women of distinction the scenes of his profligacy, without minding either rank or station. In a little time he became as detested as Pharao. People on meeting him by chance used to say, God save us from him! And his insolence and pride growing to a height by impunity, he set at nought the important services rendered to his uncle and family by both Hossëin-c8ly-qhan, and his brother, Háider-aaly-qhan, and he undertook to put His person detested. them both to death. This was his coup-dessay; and to insure success to his design, he made use of some art to gain the heart of a young man, who having had mighty disputes with the officers employed by Hossëin-c8ly-qhan, Deputy-Governor of the province of Dacca, had come over to M8rsh8d-abad to complain of them, and had found means to lay his case before Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, who concerned himself in his behalf. His name was, Aga-sadyc, and his title, Sadacat-mahmed-qhan, son to Aga-bakyr, a considerable Zemindar of those parts. Seradj-ed-döulah engaged him to return to Dacca in order to kill Hussen-eddin-qhan, nephew to Hussëin-c8ly-qhan, and the latter’s Deputy of Dacca, a young man who for some reasons had fallen into a melancholy, that had disordered his senses. The man did exactly as he was bid. Such a murder committed so bluntly, struck a terror and consternation in the mind of all the inhabitants of that great city, who concluded that an action of that high nature would have never been perpetrated, had not some person of the first rank afforded it countenance. So that every one remained silent, and thoughtful, until it became known that the perpetrator had no order, and no voucher in his hand. He was therefore set upon by the inhabitants and by the friends of Hussëin-c8ly-qhan, who missed the murderer, but by mistake killed his father, Aga-bakyr. The son having escaped so great a danger, fled to M8rsh8d-abad; and by such a step threw away both his peace of mind, and the safety of his person. This affair was put up with by Seradj-ed-döulah for the present; but it was only for the present; for he soon found means to concern all the members of his family in his resentment; and his grandmother, consort to Aaly-verdy-qhan, went so far, as to ask leave to put to death the two obnoxious brothers, meaning Hussëin-c8ly-qhan, and Háider-aaly-qhan. The old Viceroy, by one of those neglects that cannot be ascribed to anything but an unavoidable fate, contented himself with answering, that such an affair could not be done without Nevazish-mahmed-qhan’s consent.
This, the grandmother undertook to procure; and after having extorted her husband’s tacit consent, she applied to her son-in-law, by his consort, who was her daughter. This Princess, although so nearly related to Seradj-ed-döulah, bore him an invincible hatred; but at that time there had happened a little misunderstanding between her and Hossëin-c8ly-qhan for an inconsiderable subject, which it would be improper to mention;\(51\) and she was so dissatisfied with him, that she joined her mother in persuading Navazish-mahmed-qhan. The latter, who had been at all times a weak man, and now was discontented with both earth and heaven, gave his consent to an infamous action which contained in itself his condemnation in this world, and in the other; the more so, as he was an intimate friend of Hossëin-c8ly-qhan’s; and oaths and promises upon the glorious Coran had intervened between them, that he would at all times take as much care of the life and honour of his friend, as he might of his own. All these preparations being over, Aaly-verdy-qhan, to save appearances, as he fancied, and to conceal his share in the perpetration of the crime, went to Radjmahl, on pretence of a hunting party. This hunting coming to the ears of Sàyd-ahmed-qhan, his son-in-law, he repaired thither from P8raniah, to pay him his respects; and it is that nobleman that did me the honour to present me to Aaly-verdy-qhan. This Prince was pleased to make much of me; and he seemed desirous to attach me to his person; but fate did not allow him time, and as I was already provided for, his desire did not take place; but it is very probable, that had I repaired to his capital immediately after Sáyed-ahmed-qhan’s demise, he would have amply provided for me to the utmost of my wishes, and in a manner suitable to my rank in life. But Aaly-verdy-qhan died soon after; and it became too late to avail myself of his good will. And thanks be to God, that I was not reduced to the necessity of appearing at a new door. After such a digression, which the reader will pardon, we shall return to the thread of our history.
Seradj-ed-döulah then on his grandfather’s departure, made a visit to his uncle, Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, and having received his consent, he was returning home in the evening; and this was A. D. 1754-55. in the beginning of the year 1168. But as Hossëin-c8ly-qhan’s house lay full in his way, and that poor wretch, who expected his death these many days, had constantly kept himself at home, he stopped at the gate, and ordered that both brothers should be brought forth directly. Hossëin-c8ly-qhan, warned by the throng at his gate, fled, and took shelter in Hadji-mehdy’s house, which was close to his own; and he desired him to go immediately, and to give notice to Navazish-mahmed-qhan, (whose gentleman usher Hadji-mehdy was) of his friend, Hossëin-c8ly-qhan’s danger. Thither Hadji-mehdy went immediately; but receiving no favourable answer, he was returning home in a dejected state of mind. Meanwhile the satellites having broke into the man’s house, and into the adjoining ones, soon found Hossëin-c8ly qhan, whom they brought to their master. That cruel, relentless, remorseless monster, no sooner cast his eyes upon him, than he ordered his being hacked to pieces; and he was hacked to pieces accordingly. It was in this manner that unfortunate man drank up his cup of martyrdom. His brother, Háider-aaly-qhan, who was blind, being brought in the same manner, was made a partaker of his brother’s fate. But as he was an ancient warrior and a valorous man, instead of descending to supplications and tears, as had done his brother, he gave his murderer foul language, and loaded him with taunting reproaches, in which he severely reflected on his person, his mother, and his family. Thou worthless felow! said he, it is thus that thou murderest brave men? He was not suffered to say more, but was instantly cut down.
The innocent blood spilt in that occasion proved as fertile in troubles, as that of Siavush of old. It produced a series of events that proved fatal to that power and dominion, which Aaly-verdy-qhan had been rearing with so much bodily labour, and so much toil; it lighted up a blind fire which soon after these two murders, commenced emitting smoke; and which breaking out in flames at last, destroyed in its progresses all that numerous family; and extending its ravages far and near, consumed every thing in those once happy regions of Bengal, prostrating and overwhelming totally those rich provinces which it has reduced to a heap of ashes, and yet smoking coals. It verified that tremendous sentence once revealed to the Prince of Messengers: So shalt thou have done; so shalt thou receive.
Noble reflections of the author on that subject.After that unhapy transaction, Aaly-verdy-qhan returned to his capital; and his son-in-law, Sàyd-ahmed-qhan, took the road of P8raniah; but the latter was uneasy in his mind, and thoughtful at what he had seen, and heard lately; and as this had put an end to all the confidence which he had hitherto reposed in both the uncle and the nephew, he resolved henceforward to spare nothing that might secure himself in his post; and it is from that moment that an avenging Providence commenced providing materials for its future exertions. But as it is the faithful historian’s duty to assemble such events as are come to his knowledge, and to speak of them precisely as they shall have happened, without being biassed by either envy or love, and without flattering either side or party; so I repose so much confidence in the candour and equity of my generous readers, as to flatter myself, that without suffering their minds to be darkened by the dust of discontent, they shall abate in behalf of the poor man (me) something of the punctilious delicacy of their taste; and that they shall overlook all the blemishes of this history in favour of its sincerity and exactitude. I flatter myself, I say, that they shall cover the writer with the cloak of forbearance, should they judge the writing itself unworthy of their praise.
Nevazish-mahmed-qhan ever since Ecram-ed-döulah’s demise, had fallen into a course of despondence and sorrow, that incessantly preyed upon his spirits; so that he was seldom himself, and seldom easy or in full health. After a length of time symptoms of an hydropsy were discovered upon him. A little before that distemper had declared itself, the physician, Aaly-naky-qhan the Isfahanian, used to say that the distemper was preparing to make its appearance, and that now was the time to provide against it by taking more care of his person, or never; but the disconsolate Lord continued as insensible as usual. After the distemper had declared itself, his consort and friends intreated him, but to no purpose, to allow himself to be taken care of. Matters growing worse, Aaly-verdy-qhan ordered him to be brought to his palace, together with his consort, and his whole family and dependants, without excepting the women that were connected with his nephew, and in particular Bhag-bhai, a favourite actrisse\(52\) and some others. As soon as he arrived, he was made over to the physicians; but as it is in vain for a man to arm himself with a bucler against the shafts of destiny, the sick lord’s condition became worse and worse; and signs of an approaching dissolution made their appearance. His consort, who although actually in her father’s house, trembled lest Seradj-ed-döulah should confine her in that very palace, now resolved to provide for her safety; and putting herself in a covered chair together with her dying husband, she carried him to her own lodgings, where the sick man paid no attention to that change. But on the evening of the day in which he was to depart this life, he asked what day of the week would be to-morrow, and being answered, it would be Monday, he expressed his joy and said: a pleasing day! I will be joined to my love. And whether he gave directions accordingly, or that his people paid a regard to his attachment to the young Prince, it is certain A. D. 1754-55. that he was entombed close to him. He died the thirteenth of the second Reby, in the year 1169 of the Hedjra; and his Secretary has enclosed this date in a chronogram in verses which he composed on the occasion. As soon as it was daylight, his body was attended by the Prince of the learned, Mir-mahmed-aaly-fazyl, (whose learning may God preserve!) by Aaly-verdy-qhan himself, and by all the relations and kinsmen of that family, as well as by the principal persons of the city, joined to an infinity of persons of all sexes and ranks. After purifying the body according to law, and pronouncing over it the customary prayers, they took it up, and carried it alternately upon their shoulders, to Moty-djil, a country-seat which he had built himself and much embellished. There they deposed it for a while in the mosque which he had raised in that palace’s garden; and then they committed it to the ground close to Ecram-ed-döulah, in the very yard of that mosque. The moment they first raised his body from the ground, such a cry and such a scream broke out at once from an infinity of men and women, as seemed to rend the air; it was such as had never been seen or heard on the like occasion at any time before. But there is no wonder if he was so much regretted. He used to spend thirty-seven thousand rupees per month in charities to old impotent persons, whether distant relations or not, whether acquaintances or strangers; and this was over and above the stated pensions that were borne in his books. These secret charities were every first day of the month put in small cloth-bags of several bignesses, and sealed in his presence; after which they were ranged in several classes upon large trays or covered tables, and entrusted to eunuchs and trusty old women of his seraglio, who carried them round from house to house to each respective owner. May God’s mercy rest upon him for ever! His compassion to the distressed, the impotent, the orphan and the friendless, was so extensive, that he surpassed in beneficence every member of a family where that quality seemed to be of natural growth. He was fond of living well, and of amusements and pleasures; could not bear to be upon bad terms with any one; and was not pleased when a disservice was rendered to another. Every distressed widow and orphan of the city of M8rsh8d-abad seemed to him to be of his family. If any one of them had no certain livelihood, or if having any, it proved insufficient, or if sufficient, it was liable to some impediment; any person of such a description was sure of finding a patron in him. All such persons were sure to be relieved, and relieved with an exactitude, and a modesty that seemed striving to oblige handsomely. He was averse to flattery, and disinclined from those rules of state, and those airs of reservedness imposed on persons of his high rank. He loved to live with his servants, as their friend and companion, and with his acquaintances, as their brother and equal. All his friends and acquaintances were admitted to the liberty of smoking their Hoccas or Pipes in his presence, and to drink coffee, whilst he was conversing familiarly with them; and he made it a point to oblige them, without making a parade of it; and also to grant a favour in secret, for which he had excused himself in public, and had asked their pardon. One day Naky-c8ly-qhan, son to Hadji-abdollah the historian, a man of letters who had been Divan of Burhanp8r in Aoreng-zib’s time, having interceded for a Séyd, who was now in prison at Djehanghir-nugur for a balance of six thousand rupees due to Government, and which he could not pay, he represented “that it would be a pity that so worthy a Séyd should be in penances, whilst so many thousand rupees, to the double and even the quadruple of that sum, were monthly spent in alms and in charities; and he added that it was to be hoped that the above sum would be forgiven the man, and also that he would be sent for to the presence, and provided for.” This short request had its full effect on that beneficent nobleman. With evident signs of emotion and pity, he ordered that letters of pardon should be immediately dispatched for that man, with orders to send him to M8rsh8d-abad; and he returned thanks to the intercessor for having put him in mind of so meritorious a piece of work. May God bless you, said he, for your having brought such an action in my way, and procured me such a happiness! If the Crown-officers prove dilatory, give me notice of it quickly, that I may provide against their malice, and deliver that poor Séyd from that scene of evil and affliction. Such instances of his beneficence were without number, and they are remembered by all to this day. My mother having been obliged to quit Patna in order to go to M8rsh8d-abad, where she had some particular business, carried her whole family thither, to wit, my two younger brothers, Séyd-aaly-qhan and Ghalib-aaly-qhan, as well as her daughter’s husband, Mir-assed-aaly; and finding herself obliged to remain in that city longer than she expected, she was somewhat at a loss how to subsist honourably. That blessed man no sooner heard of this, than he undertook her support; and without waiting for any prayer or recommendation, he of his own accord settled upon her a plentiful and honourable pension; and besides that, he made her yearly presents of precious stuffs fit for her person and family, especially of those that were bespoke for his own family in quanties at Djehanghir-nugur, Maldah and Nediah. And as Ghalib-aaly-qhan, her younger son, was of the same age with his adoptive son, Ecram-ed-döulah, he took a pleasure in carrying him together with the young Prince to his country-seats and gardens in his parties of pleasure. In one of those parties, a dance-girl of the troupe in Ecram-ed-döulah’s service chanced to take a liking to Ghalib-aaly-qhan, and was now and then in her very performance dropping amorous glances at the young man; who being himself so very young and so unexperienced in what might be right or wrong, and withal so exposed to all the inadvertencies incident to humanity at that age, used to return the glances in the same style. The young noblemen of the same age, who accompanied Ecram-ed-döulah having observed that rising intelligence, were fired with jealousy and emulation, and they gave notice of the matter to him; so that he quitted the garden with apparent marks of displeasure. Nevazish-mahmed-qhan informed of this, sent for my mother, and with the greatest gentleness and circumspection, he gave her notice of what had happened; and added that in his opinion the best way to prevent the two children from falling out together, would be to keep her son at home for some days. Ecram-ed-döulah, who in thoughtlessness and violence of temper was a true copy of his elder brother, Seradj-ed-döulah, did not seem fully satisfied with that retreat; and to give himself the merit of having repressed his anger out of complaisance to his adoptive father, he was heard to say in his presence, “that yesterday Ghalib-aaly qhan had fairly escaped out of his hands; else,” added he, “I would have killed him on the spot.” These words having been several days together successive repeated in his presence, the good natured lord comprehended that the speaker wanted to feel his pulse on the subject; and losing patience at once, he screamed out: By the thirty chapters of the word of God, had you killed him, I would have cut your throat with my own hands. After this sudden flash of resentment, he recovered his usual tone of voice, and after having spoken with all that tenderness which he constantly shewed him, he gave him a severe reprimand. Ecram-ed-döulah surprised at a speech that proved so contrary to his expectation, wept much and sobbed much, and then said: “You would have killed me for him, then? Yes,” replied the “blessed man, “I see no great difference between you and him. You are son of one sister of mine, and he is son of another.” Ecram-ed-döulah hearing a language to which he was not accustomed, cooled by degrees, and repressed his anger. Such was that blessed man’s temper; and it must be acknowledged that the care he took of another’s life, where his own heart was so deeply concerned by the ties of an attachment that even exceeded the most impassionate love, could not arise from anything else than a peculiar excellence of character. But there is here a still stronger proof of it. He was fond of a famous actrisse or dancer called Bhag-bhái. Her rank in his family was next to that of his consort; and to oblige him, the Princesses of his kindred paid her much regard and much deference; but my mother, (may God long keep her shade stretched over my head!) who was haughty and sometimes of a strange temper, could not bear to see her, and would not even converse with her on any account. Now it must be observed, that it was customary for him in speaking to my blessed mother to make use of the expressions, Hear lady, or hear biby. Bhag-bhái having inadvertently made use of the same expression, my mother flew into a passion, and said: “Who art thou, woman, that thou should dare to speak at that rate? This way of speaking becomes superiors, when speaking to inferiors, or masters when speaking to their dependants; but thou art in neither predicament. Look at this maid of mine yonder; I set no great difference between you and her. If there be any, it is in this, that she wears a few trinkets of silver and gold, and that thou wearest many gems and much jewel-work.” Bhag-bhái stooped and did not answer a single word; but she was deeply wounded, and she complained bitterly to her lord. His answer was, that such was that lady’s temper, that she knew it; and why then did she put herself in her way? My mother went home, with an intention to return to Azim-abad; and she for a long time abstained from going to Court. But such a separation was more than the blessed man could bear. He sent persons of distinction to soothe her mind, but all in vain; till at last he sent her this message: Please to come of yourself; else, I declare to you that we shall go, Biby-Gahassity and myself, and by all means shall bring you along. My mother on this message, repaired to the palace, where he received her with the highest distinction, requesting her to be reconciled to his family and house. She answered that she wanted to repair to Azim-abad. And why so, replied the worthy man, with a melting tone of voice? Why should you insist upon leaving us? No one has said anything disagreeable to you; you have of yourself taken offence, and have said whatever you had a mind to. At this moment his consort, Gahassity-biby, who had her cue, made suddenly her appearance. She was in company with Nefissa-begum, mother to the late Ser-effraz-qhan, a Princess who was treated with the highest regard by the reigning family. Pray, sister, what is the matter with your anger, said she? And what is the matter that you are so angry with your brother? What he tells you seems to be right; and you, sister, wholly taken up with a quarrel of your own making, do not mind all the uneasiness you give him. To all this my blessed mother continued to pay no attention, seemingly intent only on asking and obtaining leave to be gone; upon which the good natured man arose from his Mesned, and went up to her. Well then, said he, I am guilty! I am guilty! And now I come to your feet to obtain my pardon. These words overpowered my blessed mother; her sensibility broke forth into a flood of tears, and she poured a torrent of blessings upon him. She got up, uttered a fervent prayer that God Almighty might prolong his days, and his power, and she promised to remain.
It is such an amiable character that she is now remembering with sobs and regrets; and it is such a surpassing goodness she is mentioning at times with floods of tears, in which with a voice interrupted by the sobs of deep felt woe she often supplicates the most merciful of the most merciful to make him an object of his forgiveness. His kindness was no less conspicuous with the family and descendants of Aga-mirza, who was a son of the learned Doctor, Medjlissi, with whom he had been acquainted, so early as the reign of Shudjah-qhan, at which time Aga-mirza was then in the splendour of his power and influence. He took such care of his deceased friend’s children and consort, the latter of which was a daughter of Naky-c8ly-qhan, that no one would be more careful of his own wife and children. On hearing that his friend had died in his boat, on his coming from Dacca, where he had an office of importance, but when he heard that the family was not in good circumstances, he sent for the relict and her two sons, the one Mirza-bakyr, and the other Mirza-abdollah (whom may this my salute reach intire!) and took such care of them as to surprise even those that were acquainted with the goodness of his heart. He appointed eunuchs to inspect their conduct, and masters to teach them the grammer and sciences; and he added to those cares a pension of seven hundred rupees per month, over and above seven hundred more which he allowed the mother; to all which he used to join in both seasons a profusion of precious stuffs, which were always ushered with this expression: These can only fit your maids; but accept them for my sake. Doubtless it is of him that it was said:
Verses:
| “Live in such a manner as that whenever you die, |
| Your virtues should make you live anew in the remembrance of mankind.” |
As I, the poor man, was upon the most intimate footing with that nobleman, as well as with his brother, Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, and I had a perfect knowledge of their characters, and ways of life, I can vouch for the foregoing two stories (one of which happened in my own family); and of such stories there may be a thousand; for he had a thousand such acquaintances, on whom he bestowed his care and money in so generous a manner, that he kept it as a secret. But it is no less certain that there was no orphan and no widow in the city, that did not partake in some shape or other of his bounty and munificence; and how far he had carried the benignity of his temper, may be conceived from this particular, that at his death the city of M8rsh8d-abad looked like an immense hall filled with people in mourning; and that an infinity of persons looked upon his death as an irreparable loss for their own families.
His second brother, whose name was Mahmed-sáyd, and whose titles at length were Nassyr-el-mulk-sàyd-ahmed qhan-bahadyr-sö8lut-djung, had a character that held the middle way between his two brothers. He was handsomer than either, superior to both in many respects, their equal in most, and their inferior in few, if any at all. In power, riches, and influence, he was inferior to his elder brother, Nevazish-mahmed-qhan; and in that sense he was likewise inferior to his younger brother, Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan, to whom the possession of the important Government of Azim-abad naturally gave a great lustre; he was, however, supposed to be richer than him. But on the other hand, he was thought to be somewhat below that standard in prowess and military talents, although undoubtedly superior in those respects to his elder. In the sweetness of his deportment, and also in knowledge and science, he was superior to both; but in firmness of temper, and in acuteness of discernment Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan surpassed both his brothers. Sáyd-ahmed-qhan in his youth had been much addicted to amusements and pleasures, that is, he was fond of the company of fine woman, and delighted in seeing dancers and actrisses and singers; but this turn of mind having brought upon him the disgrace which befell him in Catec, he so far corrected his way of life that, instead of those dissolute men that had been always in his company, he attached to his person a number of friends distinguished by their birth, their virtue or their knowledge; and instead of passing his life amongst dance-women and actrisses, he only indulged now and then in looking or listening at their performances. About one hour before day-break, and after having performed the usual evacuations and ablutions,\(53\) he went through his devotions, and then sate in state in the great hall, where he gave a public audience twice a week, to afford an opportunity to every suitor of speaking to him. The Friday he abstained from all business; but there were four days in the week, where he spoke of nothing else; and then he divided his time in the following manner: In the morning his friends were admitted and drank coffee with him; after which were admitted his acquaintances and others, some of whom sate only a little, and others withdrew immediately after having made their bow. After this, he sate still two hours more, and then retired to an apartment reputed belonging to the sanctuary, and where none were admitted but old females of the seraglio, and trusty eunuchs. The M8tusuddies and heads of the several offices remained without; but occasionally transmitted by the hands of the eunuchs such of their papers as required his perusal or signature. These he perused in private and in silence, and after having examined the contents, he returned them, signed or rejected, as he thought proper; and meanwhile, his friends, and the principal persons of his Court, amongst which was also this most inconsiderable of mankind, were sitting without, in a hall separated from his closet by a curtain. His Secretaries also attended there, and occasionally sent in their minutes by the hands of an eunuch; and these being returned after some corrections, were transcribed fair, sent in again to be sealed by the seal-keeper, then attending, and returned again to be dispatched; the Postmaster always attending with a number of couriers, ready. At about ten o’clock dinner was served up, and it was always accompanied by a number of tables and trays covered with victuals. These were always brought ready, and distributed in the houses of his friends and acquaintances, to some every day, to some twice a week, to some others once a week, and to very few twice in a month. This was a standing rule that required no new direction. Whilst the Superintendent of the kitchen was arranging these tables, and exposing them to his view, the civilians and heads of offices stood up, and after having sent in their respects by the ministry of an eunuch, they withdrew to their homes. After dinner he usually took a nap; and then rising about noon, he went through the usual evacuations and ablutions, made his noon-prayers, and then read some chapter of the word of God. At about three o’clock, he performed his third prayer and then came into the public hall, where he conversed with learned and eminent men, such as Gholam-yahia and the Mufty-zya-ollah, and Mir-vahed, and the Moluvy or Doctor Lal-mahmed, and Shek-hedáiet-ollah, and Sëyd-abdol-hadi. With these he conferred upon some point of science, often upon his own Coran, of which he would read a passage, which was explained and commented by Mollah-gholam-yáhia, to which others added their opinions and observations. He used to say: “That at his age to make new acquisitions in matters of knowledges was almost impossible; that he was satisfied with what little he had of it, and wanted no addition; but that reading and comprehending matters of knowledge seemed to add new life to his existence; and that he was so accustomed to that way of life, that when the conferences did not take place, as usual, he reckoned himself to have that day suffered a great loss in his treasury, and was uneasy until it was retrieved and made up.” As he was exceedingly kind to me, the last of men, he always insisted on my being present at the conferences, and he was mightily pleased with my observations and illustrations. In voyage or at home, he spoke now and then to others, but seemed particularly to hang on what I, the most inconsiderable of mankind, would say; and he expressed at all times so much esteem for me, that his oldest acquaintances and friends used to wonder by what art and magic this new man had acquired so much ascendant upon him; and how the Prince was at all times so ready to quit the company of others, to go to him. The conferences usually took up two whole hours, after which admission was given to the most considerable of his friends, such as Séif-aaly-qhan, brother to Séif-qhan, and son as well as he, of Emir-qhan, Viceroy of Cabul; Roh-eddin-husséin-qhan, another son of Séif-qhan’s, and a young nobleman with whom he had contracted an alliance; Naky-aaly-qhan, my younger brother; and Mir-aaly-yar-qhan son to Séif-qhan’s sister; all illustrious persons to whom he used to join Radja-adjaib-ráy, his Prime Minister, and after his death, his son, Radja Sehudj-ráy. He admitted also the heads of the Paymaster’s office, as well as those of the light artillery. To these were added the Secretary Rày-churamon, Djaafer-c8ly-qhan, Keeper of the Treasury, and Mirza-da8d the Qhansaman or Steward. All these used to sit a full hour, and after exposing what they had to say, they took their leave, and then the Prince quitted the hall, and entered his sanctuary, where with some favourite ladies of his he would take an airing in that fine garden, which he had enclosed; or he mounted with them upon small ponies richly adorned, and rode with them up and down the enclosure. The evening being come, he performed his fourth prayer; and then was attended by some favourite actrisses, dancers and singers of his; else, he remained alone, and was entertained with some curious and diverting story or tale, which lulled him to sleep; and this was at about nine or ten o’clock. This rule of life held regularly the whole year round, without exception. He was naturally a sweet tempered man; and civility was so natural to him, that for full seven years, in which I have been in his service, I never remember to have heard him say a harsh word to any one (whether high or low), or to have seen him guilty of an improper action. He was pleased with mangnificence, and fond of living nobly; and although his revenue was greatly inferior to that of his elder brother, Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, who was these many years in office, and whose treasures of course must have been greatly above his standard; yet he was his equal in jewels, silver and gold furniture, as well as in elephants and some other articles appertaining to the highest ranks; and these appeared at his death, when the treasury was found to contain forty-five lacs in silver, and, if I well remember, about one lac of Eshreffies;\(54\) nor was the jewel-office found to contain less than those sums in jewels, in gold and silver furniture, and in precious stuffs; he had also a great number of elephants and horses, and other animals in plenty; and all in good condition.
Once (and he was then in his private apartment with a number of ladies behind the curtain) he took into his head to make me a present of an elephant, for he was that day very merry, and amusing himself with the apparatus of the Busunt-panchmi, or festival used in introducing the spring season. He had with him in the closet, an old man called Mir-mahbó8b-aaly, who was extremely attached to him, having been his acquaintance so early as the times when he came in Bengal with Hadji-ahmed, his father, in quest of a livelihood. There was no other person at all in the apartment, save a few menial servants. An eunuch came out of the closet and called me up. I went in, and made my bow; on which he desired me to be seated; and he commenced conversing on a variety of subjects. After some time spent in this manner, it was announced in a high tone of voice by Hazyr-aaly-qhan (a slave of his household, and now a man of importance, for he was Superintendent of his hall of audienee), that Mir-soltan-aaly-qhan, who had been honoured with the gift of an elephant, was waiting at the gate of the hall of audience, and, should it be His Highness’s pleasure, would just shew himself from afar, make his bow of thanksgiving, and be gone immediately. To which the Prince consented; and that ceremony being over in a moment, he turned again to me, and asked me whether I had ever seen his elephant-office? My Lord-qhan, said he, I want to know your opinion of them. I answered that I had seen his elephants, and that they were numerous and of uncommon bigness and beauty. Well then, added he, you must look over them again, and choose any one you please, as I intend to compliment you with it. I, the poor man, on this compliment, got up, made a profound bow, and answered, “that the expressions with which he had been pleased to usher his noble present, were in my opinion worth a gift of his whole elephant-office; but that the riding on such an animal, required a certain state and a suitable retinue; and although I had been by the special favour of His Highness amply provided with an honourable subsistence, and was perfectly satisfied with it, nevertheless I did not think that my time for riding on an elephant was come as yet; and that when that time should be brought forth by his favour, it would be time then to think of elephants.” The turn I gave to my excuse was taken much notice of, and he smiled, but said nothing. Some time after there came intelligence that Ab8l-mans8r-qhan, Viceroy of A8d, was arrived at Banares, probably with a view to invade Bengal. Aaly-verdy-qhan upon this intelligence wrote to his nephew at P8raniah to march out with his army, whilst himself should set out on his side in his way to Azim-abad. Sáyd-ahmed-qhan intent on his preparatives, commanded me to raise a good body of infantry and cavalry. I answered that I would, but that as P8raniah was in a corner, and out of the high-road from Hindostan, none would be procurable, but people of P8raniah; to which he replied, that he had no objections to them, provided they should be picked men. The body in question was soon raised; but news came a little after, that Ab8l-mans8r-qhan had thought proper to return to A8d, his capital; so that the suspicions he had raised in Bengal, subsiding by his departure, the new levies were all dismissed, to the great discomfort of the Commanders, who after having wished for some war and some dispute, were now reduced to the necessity of making interest for their being kept in pay. But he kept only two-and-twenty Afghan troopers, who being excellently mounted, were reserved for his body-guards. As to myself, hearing of this general reform, I presented him a paper purporting, “whether it was not his pleasure that I should dismiss my own new levies also, which were numerous enough?” In answer to my question, he wrote at the bottom these words: “Why does His illustrious Lordship trouble himself about these matters? Let there be to-morrow a general review of his corps, and then their fate shall be determined.” The next day I carried all my people to the review. He looked at them all, but ordered that they should be kept in pay, and he moreover added the two-and-twenty Afghans to them; and as my corps was found now to consist of about eighty horse and about two hundred foot, he signed the review, and then turning towards me, My Lord-qhan, said he, I believe now that the time for your riding on an elephant is come at last, and that you shall have no objections to my presenting you with one. Casting then his eyes upon the elephants, he made choice of one, and presented it to me.
One day he heard by mere chance, that I had sent to my venerable father then at Shah-djehan-abad (and now doubtless in the assembly of the justes) a bill of exchange of two thousand rupees. Is that true, my Lord-qhan, said he, in full company? “I answered it was; and that as it was no secret matter, I made no difficulty to acknowledge it.” He replied: What, if you had given me notice of it, I might have taken a share in that meritorious action of yours. I rejoined, “that there was no need of his taking any share at all, as the whole of the sum originally belonged to him, and had accrued to me from his bounty; and that as to the modicly of it, my fortune being all of his own bestowing, could not be but known to His Highness.” He smiled, and turning towards my banker, then present, who was also his cash-keeper, he ordered him to charge the bill of exchange to his debit, and to refund the money to me. I got up and returned him my thanks for his manifold bounties. This favour was soon followed by another. There was a certain district called Serip8r, the rent of which was fixed at a one hundred-and-eighty and some thousand rupees; and he conceived without any application from me, and even without my knowledge, the design of bestowing the collection of that revenue upon me. With this view he pitched upon Radja Adjáib-ráy, his Prime Minister, who had been likewise Prime Minister to the late Séif-qhan, and sent him to my house. The Minister brought with him two Qhylaats, or dresses of honour, and also a gentleman of distinction, who had long been in the practice of renting and taking to farm, the revenues of Government, and amongst others, those of that very district. His name was Sheh-amanollah. The Minister speaking in his master’s name said: “That His Highness had devised that office, to put some emoluments in my way; and proposed two methods for insuring them: the first, that I should now put on the Qhylaat of investiture, and charge myself with the collection, after appointing for my deputy whomsoever I might have a mind to; the second, that I should put on the dress of investiture, but appoint the gentleman then in his company for my deputy; in which case the deputy would be responsible only to Government, at the same time that by a paper ready executed, which he shewed me, he would bind himself to afford me a pension of seven thousand rupees a year, over and above the presents and nuzurs usual at the two holidays, at the Des-hara and at the other customary occasions, as the New Year’s Day and others; he was likewise obliged to execute without hesitation, and as my servant, whatever commissions and orders I should occasionally give him.” The latter proposal being the less cumbersome of the two, I adopted it, as I perceived it was the donor’s secret inclination; and also, as by insuring me a small revenue, it freed me from the anxieties and bodily trouble of a collection. Such kindnesses and attentions, so far from being usual from lords to their dependants, are hardly to be expected from fathers to their sons.
One day that blessed man after having taken an airing in his favorite boat, took into his head to land on the other side of the river, his Palkey and Naleky remaining on this side; and as no vehicle was at hand to land him from the boat, and he was not accustomed to walk on the board which the boatmen usually stretch out from their boats to shore for landing people, he seemed at a loss how to manage upon so narrow a bridge. On observing which, I advanced bare-footed on the board, and stretched my hand, bidding him help himself with it, and come along. The Prince pleased with my having guessed his embarrassment, and with my giving him assistance so timely, smiled, availed himself of my hand, and came along; when being near the landing place, he stopped short, and said, My Lord-qhan, you have to-day rendered me a great service by stretching your hand. I answered, “that I thought otherwise; and that I fancied His Highness had rather taken me by the hand with intention to carry me higher.” The Prince laughed, and said: So I hope too, my Lord-qhan; and I hope it shall come to pass just as you have foretold. Nevertheless I must inform you that I reckon upon your assistance in the other world, as I do in this. Let the virtuous take example from this Prince; and let them observe how modestly he thought of himself. If you consider only the difference of age, he was about sixty, and I was only twenty-seven years old; if you consider the propinquity of blood, I was the younger, and he by much the elder member of the family; and if you consider the difference of stations and ranks, he was a glorious Lord of the rank of seven thousand horse, and I was no more than one of his servants; and yet with all this elevation, and all this superiority, he made it a point to speak always with modesty, and to oblige with the most becoming grace.
| “Modesty is pleasing and meritorious in those seated on high; |
| But in a poor man, it is only an appendage of his character and station.” |
This Prince governed for full seven years the province of P8raniah with absolute power; but yet with so much equity and attention to the welfare of the subject, that both the nobles and husbandmen were exceedingly pleased with his government, and at all times ready to give it their applauses. Retired in a corner, at a distance from the great roads to and from Hindostan, he had no occasion at all either to wage war or to travel. So that his travels went no farther than Radjmahal, whither his uncle, who was very fond of hunting, used to repair almost every year; and sometimes he proceeded as far as M8rsh8d-abad, to see his brother, Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, and his nephews and nieces, as well as the Princesses of his family. Nor did he ever set out from P8raniah in a military equipage, but on two occasions: the first time it was to oppose Fahr-eddin-hosséin-qhan, that ill advised son of Séif-qhan’s; the other, it was to chastise Shek-mahmed-djelil, Zemindar of P8raniah, who enjoyed a good estate and a great revenue, but who was undone for having listened to the suggestions of senseless, ignorant friends, by whose counsels he excited troubles, proved refractory, and demolished his own welfare and family. This event happened in the height of the rains; and although sober advice was given that ill fated man, it proved of no avail. He was a staunch Shya, and endowed with many valuable qualifications, as well as inclined to do meritorious actions; but in this, he mistook so far the line of conduct which became him, as to engage in a course of contentions that brought upon himself a number of evils and disgraces that ended fatally, and at last poisoned his existence. To put an end to the troubles, and to bring the dispute to a conclusion, I interfered in his cause by sending persons to soften his mind, and by interceding with his lord, with no other view, I can assure, but that of rescuing that senseless man from the evils that hung over him; but my efforts availed nothing; and Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, against his own inclination, was obliged in the height of the rainy season to put himself at the head of his troops in order to bring him under controul. The troops which that ill advised man had raised, being intimidated by the Governor’s presence, did not dare to stand by him. He found himself at once plunged in a sea of disappointment; and being abandoned by every one, he was overtaken by the claws of destiny, and taken with his family and children, and everything belonging to him. He died in prison; but as he had spent in supporting troops, the public revenues he was entrusted with, an immense balance was found against his family; and it was repeated from his son, Gholam-hosséin; but I can say that after Sáyd-ahmed-qhan’s demise, I interested myself so earnestly with his son and successor, that I prevailed upon that young Prince to release a youth equally innocent, and ignorant of business, as well as incapable to pay; and I engaged the Prince to send him back to his family estate, where he might usefully employ himself in recalling his dispersed farmers, and in re-peopling that half ruined country. And thanks be to God Almighty, that the above service was performed on my part, without any mercenary view whatever of either retribution or reward; and as I hope that the reader will forgive me that digression, let us now revert to our anecdotes about Sáyd-ahmed-qhan.
My younger brother, Naky-aaly-qhan, was in his youth of a hasty violent temper, that never minded times or places. One day after rising from Sáyd-ahmed-qhan’s presence, he came and seated himself in the hall of audience, close to the Prime Minister, Radja Adjáib-ráy, when there entered a Gentoo of the Catry tribe, a man very low-born in that very country, and who bore on his forehead a delineation of all the troubles and evils which he would cause one day. Young Sháocat-djung, who was created Grand-master of the artillery of P8raniah by his father in imitation of Seradj-ed-döulah, who had been invested with a like office at M8rsh8d-abad, had thought proper to make of this man his Divan and confidant; and the young Prince’s department being very considerable by the numbers of cavalry and infantry attached to it, Achant-ráy (and that was the man’s name) acted as deputy to his master in it. This gentleman came for some business, and wanted to take his seat between Adjáib-ráy and Naky-aaly-qhan; the latter forbade him; the other proud of his office, and of his influence with his master, paid no regard to him; and he spoke a few words in contempt of it. Naky-aaly-qhan incensed at his presumption, ordered a servant of his, that stood behind, to pull down that man’s turbant; and finding the servant not ready enough, he pulled it himself, and threw it on the ground. The man stung to the quick by such an affront, quitted the assembly, and went in that condition to his young master, to whom he made great complaints. The young Prince was shocked; and in the first emotions of his resentment he ordered the troops of his department to keep themselves in readiness. As Naky-aaly-qhan’s house was over against Sháocat-djung’s lodgings, from which it was parted only by a large street, some gentlemen of distinction, who were his particular friends, (and such was Mirza-rustem-aaly, and his brother, Mirza-háider-aaly, with several others), hearing of his danger, armed themselves, and ran to his assistance. Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, being soon informed of this tumult, sent for Laaly, the Colonel, a principal Commander of the artillery, who had a thousand musqueteers, and two hundred troopers under his orders, and he commanded him immediately to get his men under arms, and to go to Naky-aaly-qhan’s assistance. The officer answered “that as he might be opposed by Sháocat-djung, who was son to his Lord, he was at a loss how to manage.” Do, said the Prince, as you shall see done by; repel force by force. The Prince sent at the same time injunctions to all the Commanders attached to the artillery to forbid their moving to Sháocat-djung’s assistance, or their joining him in raising troubles, and that, under pain of being dismissed the service, and severely punished besides. The young lord hearing of their order, quitted the party, and repaired to the palace, where he appeared before the Prince, his father, with a most dejected countenance; and he complained heavily of the affront put upon him. The Prince answered every one of his complaints by a severe reprimand; and Sháocat-djung, both humbled and confounded at such a reception, expressed a repentance, and returned home very much discontented; insomuch that for a length of time, all intercourse ceased between him and Naky-aaly-qhan, both abstaining from speaking to each other. Some months after a wedding happened in Sáyd-ahmed-qhan’s family, at which both the young men were invited, and of course obliged to partake of the pleasures and entertainments of the feast. The nuptials lasted some days, at one of the last of which the Prince rose to get into his sanctuary, and he was already at the door, when, as if recollecting something, he came back to the assembly, and taking his son by the hand, he carried him to Naky-aaly-qhan, and said these very words: So much shyness and distance between brothers, is quite unbecoming; do you embrace each other, and do recommence to be friends again upon new terms. May God Almighty in His goodness forgive that worthy man and may He allow him to repose in a corner of His mansions of mercy! So much goodness and so much benignity I never heard of in the character of any Prince, nor of any lord constituted in power and dignity; nor has he ever been equalled by any one in these heavenly qualifications. May God’s forgiveness and mercy be for ever upon his departed soul! Amen.
We have said somewhere that Abdol-aaly-qhan, my maternal uncle, had been obliged to seek his fortune, as far as the Imperial Court; but it was his ill fortune to advance very little his affairs by such a long voyage, although he had all the qualifications requisite for attaining the highest dignities, and he was much befriended by the Vezir, Zulficar-djung, son to the late Sadat-qhan. He therefore turned his views towards Mahmed-c8ly-qhan, a young nobleman who was son to Mirza-mohsen, and nephew to Ab8l-mans8r-qhan; and he lived some time in the society of that young lord, who after the victory gained over the Afghans, (victory in which Nevol-ráy lost his life) became his uncle’s Deputy in his Government of A8d. But my uncle having found means to fall out also with this young nobleman, he came to Banaress, where he took up his abode. As I seemed greatly affected by his misfortunes and disappointments, Sáyd-ahmed-qhan had the goodness to interest himself so far in his behalf, as to write pressingly to Aaly-verdy-qhan, his uncle, entreating him to pardon the exiled Commander, and to recall him into his service. Aaly-verdy-qhan answered every part of the above letter, but mentioned not one word about my uncle; and Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, having lost all hopes from that quarter, thought proper in compliment to me, to write a letter with his own hand to that unhappy Commander, in which he condoled with him upon his ill luck, but accompanied the condoleance with an order on his banker at Banaress, for his touching five hundred rupees per month, four months of which were paid him beforehand. Where are to be found now such sorts of men? Where are they to be found in our days? Where should they be?
Verse:
| “I never saw any myself; if thou knowest of any, pray, tell me.” |
He is gone now from us, and gone for ever! Nor have we any other way of testifying our gratitude for those numberless benefits which he had been endlessly spreading upon his people and his friends in general, and upon this disconsolate servant of his, in particular, than by remembering for ever his amiable character, and by pouring daily our fervent prayers to God Almighty, the pattern and spring of all goodness, that he may be an object of the Divine mercy. O God, take no notice, but of the good he has done; You know him better than we can. If he has done any good, give him the greater merit for it; and if he has been a sinner, turn your face from his demerits, and remember that You are the most merciful of all the merciful.\(55\)
It having been in the decrees of divine Providence, that the columns of Aaly-verdy-qhan’s family should be undermined and thrown down, and that this revolution, as a chastisement, should extend directly, not only upon the incapable and worthless members of it, but also indirectly upon all the inhabitants of these once flourishing countries of Bengal and Bahar, and moreover upon all the inhabitants of Hindia (which have all been involved in the fate of their Princes); the catastrophe commenced by substracting from the reigning family those individuals which by their personal merit might have propped the nodding edifice of all that power and dominion; and by their talents in the art of government, might have employed one hand in crushing the disturbers of the public peace, and the other in insuring the happiness of these regions. But what is singular, that chastisement, and that substraction, took place in the very lifetime of the founder and architect of that empire and family; for it is certain that next to Aaly-verdy-qhan himself, his three nephews, those three persons best qualified for commanding to men, and for governing king-doms, were Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, and Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, and Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan; three men far superior in those respects to those three grandsons of his, Seradj-ed-döulah with his two brothers. Had any of the three former succeeded to their uncle, and taken full possession of the sovereign power, it is indubitable that the downfall of these once flourishing provinces, with the consequent depression and ruin of their inhabitants, would have not come to pass with so much rapidity and precipitation as we have seen; but it being otherwise predetermined by the decrees of divine Providence, and the course of heavenly bodies producing another series of events, those three persons departed this world under the eyes of the very man whom they were to succeed; so that, the sheets containing the diary of their lives were rolled up and set by in his very lifetime. Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan, the third of those illustrious personages, and a Prince who in personal prowess and capacity was so far superior to both his elder and younger brother, that he wanted to have the precedence over them both, preceded them in fact, and early departing this life, he took shelter in the mansions of divine mercy: a death that thunderstruck Aaly-verdy-qhan, his uncle, and made him say with a deep-fetched sob, that if dominion and sovereignty had been decreed to last in his family, Háibet-djung (for such was that hero’s title) would have not died. His death was followed by that of Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, who took the road of eternity, and treaded close on the steps of his younger brother. It is after all these losses, that the author of these recording sheets, becoming known to Aaly-verdy-qhan, and being often of his company, heard him sob, and lament himself, and say that Shahamet-djung’s death (meaning Nevazish-mahmed-qhan) affected him, not like that of a son, but like that of a fond indulgent parent, of some one that seemed to have nursed up the whole family. After this death, the old Viceroy was looking up to Sáyd-ahmed-qhan as his last resource; and I remember that the last letter he wrote to him was in these moving terms: Now I am entirely broke both by age and by sorrow. If I live a little more, I shall in the next winter (which was about six months after), repair on purpose to Radj-mahal; not on a hunting party, as formerly, but to feast my eyes for the last time with the sight of your person, which is now become my only remaining capital after all the heavy losses, and the ruinous bankruptcies I have suffered; and if I am not to live so long, then hold me excused; and he added these verses of his own, at the bottom of the letter:
| “If we remain alive, we shall sew up again |
| Our garment torn by the thorns of sorrow and absence; |
| And if we are to die, then accept our excuses. |
| It would be a pity indeed, that our desire should be disappointed.” |
Nevazish-mahmed-qhan’s demise was followed by that of his brother, Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, who himself became a traveller in the regions of eternity. That unhappy event took place in this manner: About two months after the demise of his elder brother, he by degrees commenced feeling an acute pain in his head, at a place that became prominent of itself; and he suffered and bemoaned, but otherwise was so healthy, that it never came into any man’s mind that he would die of it. I, the poor man, apprehended so little danger from it, that I obtained leave to repair to M8rsh8d-abad for condoling with my mother, who was inconsolable of Nevazish-mahmed-qhan’s death. I paid my respects to Aaly-verdy-qhan at the same time, was charged with some messages to his nephew, and I repaired again to P8raniah, where I delivered the messages, and found him still complaining of that headache, and suffering a particular pain whenever he had to roll his turbant round his head. A few days after he said to me, that he thought that applying leeches to his head would do him good. I answered “that losing some blood, and getting himself shaved, might afford him some relief.” Two or three days after I observed that he had fixed his mind on the leeches, and was insisting on their being sent for. I took the liberty to object again. He paid no regard to my reasoning, and he added that some women said that leeches were best, when their genitals seemed apparent. I again presumed to reply, “that what old women said did not deserve his attention.” That’s true, answered he, but yet, there can be no harm in the application. Finding him bent on having leeches, I kept silence; and as there is no flying from one’s destiny, leeches were sent for, and applied. A deal of blood and watery matter came out, but every part where an application had been made, began to suppurate; and he now turned towards chirurgy. By degrees the whole neck swelled, and put on a strange appearance; and it seemed greatly tumefied. In short the swelling increased daily, and it was thought that the tumour being full of matter, it would be proper to procure an issue to it; and upon this surmise Bend-aaly, the chirurgeon, was sent for, and ordered to open it. But fate having likewise blinded the chirurgeon, the man, without examining the part; without making any inquiry; without consulting the physicians, made a crucial incision upon the tumour in expectation of seeing the matter flow out; but not a drop appeared. He therefore according to the rules of his art, put on it a poultice of pounded green leaves of Nim\(56\), and having bound the part with linen, he went away. At night some tokens of giddiness and swooning made their appearance; whereupon he took away the linen from his neck, and drank some rose water, and some other strengtheners; and his pain abated; but he was exceedingly uneasy. Meanwhile his friends, and principal officers and dependants had filled the hall of audience; and some had pitched tents in the very yard where they were present day and night, together with the physicians. I was myself sitting close to the curtain, that parted the hall from the closet; and I lived and slept on some bedding which I had sent for. Roh-eddin-hosséin-qhan, son to Séif-qhan, who had these many months become an ally of the distressed Prince, slept close to me, together with my younger brother, Naky-aaly-qhan, and the physician, Doctor-mesihi\(57\) and some other men of the art. There were over against me two learned men of the first rank, who had just arrived from Iran (or Persia), and who having been presented to the Prince had been so graciously received by him, that there was no doubt of his intending to give them some office adequate to their eminent merit. These were Aga-abdollah, the Prince of the learned ones of Iran, who understood all sciences, and especially those of the speculative kind; and the learned and pious Séyd-mahmed-turbety. These two learned men were fond of conversing with me; and they passed every day some hours in my corner, putting up fervent prayers for the Prince’s preservation; but as there is no parrying the shafts of fate, the wound continued to look worse and worse, until at the beginning of the night on the 25th of Djemadi the first, some delirium made its appearance. The Prince spoke some incoherent words, as if he had been a Gentoo. This strange appearance struck Sheh-mahmed-djehan-yar, who although one of his principal military Commanders, was skilled in physic; for that art had been hereditary in his family, so as to be transmitted to him from his father; and as he was now assisting the physicians, he cast a look at me, at the very moment I was turning my eyes towards him. Not a word was uttered on either side; but he went away. At this sight, that throng of friends and persons of distinction, lost all hopes, it being concluded that the matter that had caused the swelling in the neck, had now struck up into the brain. At about the morning Death of Sáyd-ahmed-qhan. the Prince himself feeling something new within his person, ordered the prisons to be set open, and charities to be distributed in abundance. He had hardly sent the order, when the veiled ones of the sanctuary commenced weeping and sobbing; and it appeared that it was on account of his being in a swoon. It was now the second hour after day-break; and this being the moment where he heard the call of his Creator, he answered: I am ready, A.D. 1754. and departed towards the regions of eternity. It was the twenty-fifth of the first Djemadi, in the year 1169.
Verse:
| “The world has remained behind; but he carried with him all the good he had done.” |
Whilst he was in a swoon, the women of his household sent for the learned and pious men, that were in his service, desiring them to pronounce some prayers to make him recover from the fit. And on this, some of them went in, and observed that he was still taking in the two or three mouthfuls of air that were yet of his portion; but they returned immediately back, bathed in tears. Mir-abdol-hady, who understood the Arabic perfectly, and has left a book which proves that he composed in poetry as elegantly as he did in prose, went in with the others; and on casting his eyes upon him, he was so struck with the appearance, that he fell down senseless; some eunuchs and some women took him up, and brought him into the hall, where he remained speechless and senseless. Being put into a chair and carried to his house, he seemed to recover his senses; but about two o’clock the next morning, he expired. May God’s mercy and grace rest upon that worthy Séyd for ever! He was born at Dacca in Bengal, but bred and educated at Shah-djehan-abad, where he made a great proficiency in the sciences and the belle-letters; he was fond of poetry particularly, although writing prose with singular elegance. My blessed father, sensible of his merit, had engaged him to come to Azim-abad, for the purpose of educating my two younger brothers, Séyd-aaly-qhan and Ghalib-aaly-qhan, (to whom may this salute of mine he wafted); and as the Viceroy. Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan, who intended to marry one of his daughters to Séyd-aaly-qhan, had taken him into his family, the illustrious Séyd was likewise taken into his family, entrusted with the young lord’s education, and allowed a handsome pension. After Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan’s death, he was carried to Bengal by Séyd-ahmed-qhan, who had taken with him all those learned men of Azim-abad, whose names have been mentioned a little above. Thither he followed that generous Prince, and there he ended his days in that strange manner, which we have just seen. He was cautious of mixing or conversing with those he thought ill educated, being averse to their company; and he had such a relish for solitude, that he seldom mixed with others, but passed his time in reading, in meditating upon poetry, or in composing verses. He had a partiality for my conversation and company; and he used to compliment me with this expression, “that his case with me was upon a par with a poet who said to a connoisseur: Sir, but for yau, my poetry would remain without meaning.”
The body of Séyd-ahmed-qhan was washed and purified by the pious Séyd-saleh, a friend of Séyd-mahmed-turbety’s, who being freshly landed by the way of Calcutta, from the sublime gate of the tomb at Kerbelah, had just arrived at P8raniah, in company with the flower of the virtuous, the learned Aga-abdollah. They wrapped it up with a winding sheet which he had brought from that sacred tomb; and those two venerable men having invited a numerous assembly of faithful, then present, to join with them in prayers, they performed the office of the dead over his corpse; and then taking it up, they carried it by turns to Djaaferi-bagh, a pleasant garden, where they committed it to the earth. At the two brothers, Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, and Séyd-ahmed-qhan, as well as their own uncle, Aaly-verdy-qhan, died within the year, at a few months distance from each other, the chronogram which was composed for the first, might as well serve for the two others.
As soon as the deceased was carried to the grave, his eldest son, Sháocat-djung, who had been a person of great weight and influence even in his father’s lifetime, came into the hall of audience, and pretending to be greatly affected and overcome with grief, he shed hypocritical tears, and, in token of desolation, threw his turbant on the ground. As I, the poor man, was reputed a person of consequence in his father’s Court, I thought it incumbent upon me to act a part in such a moment of distress; and taking it up therefore from the ground, I put it again upon his head, and rolled it properly; and then I made him sit down as chief mourner. After this I introduced the principal military Commander, Sheh-djehan-yar, with some other persons of distinction, who came to condole with him in the manner usual in Hindostan, to offer him their services, to profess their attachment to his person, and to desire his sitting on his father’s Mesned, as heir to his dominions and estate. This being done, I engaged the young Prince to dismiss every one of them with promises of favour; a moment after I sent for a tent, got it pitched in the hall of audience, and appointed it for his sleeping place during three days. The second day in the morning, I waited upon him, and I could see plainly that he did everything in his power to win my heart by his attentions; he observed that it would be proper to send a supplique to his grand-uncle; and he requested me to draw up the minute of it. His pleasure was complied with upon the spot; and the letter being transcribed fair, was dispatched directly. But seventeen days before his nephew’s demise, that Prince himself had fallen sick of that dropsical distemper which soon carried him to his grave; and what is strange, his nephew at P8raniah, unaware how near he was himself to his own dissolution, was bemoaning, and sobbing, and complaining of his ill luck in these very words: “Now that the time is come for my doing something, I am myself out of order.” So little apprehensive was he of his approaching fate, that he gave a dress of encouragement to his agent, and sent him to M8rsh8d-abad with messages full of kindness to the principal military Commanders, as well as to the Grandees, of the Court, and the principal citizens, recommending to him in the strongest terms to spare nothing in his endeavours to bring them over to his party. Good God! how ignorant, how unaware is man! But in fact this ignorance is one of the wheels that put in motion the pre-established order and government of this world; and were that ignorance less profound, and less complete, it is evident that the world could not exist; nay to all appearance there would be an end of all religion, and an end of all thoughts on futurity. The letter made a deep impression on Aaly-verdy-qhan. On reading the letter, he sobbed greatly and said: Now that I have lost my feathers and wings, there remains nothing for me, but to repair to my Maker. Having said this in a mournful tone of voice, he answered the letter by condoling with the children of the deceased, and by recommending to Sháocat-djung in particular, to live upon good terms with his brothers, and with all the members of his father’s family, as well as with all its dependants. The answer was accompanied by a dress of condolence for every one of the brothers, and with a patent of Governor of P8raniah, “for Sháocat-djung, but under condition, that he should preserve and cherish all his father’s friends, take care of all his dependants and servants, and love his subjects as his own children.” The letter was sent by his chief of the kitchin, Mirza-zin-el-aabedin. Sháocat-djung, who dreaded Aaly-verdy-qhan’s displeasure, seemingly complied with every one of the injunctions in the letter; and putting both his hands upon his eyes and head in token of cheerful compliance, he promised to obey every one of those messages brought him verbally on the part of his great uncle; after which, he made a handsome present to the messenger, and sent him back satisfied and well disposed. All this being over, he in a fovourable hour, ascended the chair of sovereignty; and as if he had waited only for such a moment, he made haste to give specimens of his profligacy and supineness. An elderly woman of the seraglio, whose name was Dái-c8il, and to whom the deceased, who was a connoisseur in merit, had given the title of Dana-annga or the phœnix of wisdom, resigned the service that very day. She was a great friend of mine, and seemed to be so greatly attached to me, that on the very day I resigned the service she sent for me, and hearing of my resolution to quit P8raniah, she did all she could to dissuade me from such a step. “I look upon Sháocat-djung,” said she, “to be my own child and son; and he is filling for me the place that had been filled by his father; but he seems to be disrobed of the garment of common sense. He is drunk with the wine of ignorance and supineness, and giddy with the fumes of youth and imprudence; nevertheless do not forsake him. Certainly you owe much to his father’s memory, and not a little even to me, although I should be only one of your feeblest well-wishers; but after all, we have both acquired rights upon your gratitude. I am then of opinion that you ought, out of regard to us, to take upon yourself the trouble of some office, such as that of Prime Minister, in order to inspect the affairs of revenue and Government, and to take care of the correspondence with the Emperor and with Aaly-verdy-qhan, as well as with the Grandees of Bengal, and all the men in office in this province. On the other hand, I conceive Car-guzar-qhan to be a man of importance, as being these many years at the head of our army. Do then join together cordially to prevent Sò8let-djung’s\(58\) name and family from going to wreck.” “I answered this lady, that what she said, was reasonable and proper; but you know, added I, that Sháocat-djung will never consent to all that; and on the contrary, that he will listen only to the giddy and the profligate that throng about his person, ready to jump headlong into whatever is likely to promote the ruin of his family, as well as his own. All what you propose, is reasonable; but all that cannot be done without the master’s consent; and we are nothing but servants.” As that worthy woman was full of sense, she acknowledged the probability of what I said, and approved of my shyness. A few days after Sáyd-ahmed-qhan’s demise, I obtained a bounty of five thousand rupees for the learned Aga-abdollah, of whom we have already spoken, and another of a thousand for the glorious Séyd-mir-mahmed; and having put those sums in their hands, and got them dismissed with honour, I obtained leave myself, and resigned the service. The lady in question hearing of my final resolution thereon, sent me five thousand rupees, to bear the charges of my journey. She was a woman of uncommon understanding; and although low born, and from one of the lowest clans of Catec, she had so far acquired her master’s good opinion, as to be entrusted with the government of the whole of his household, in which she managed with the utmost fidelity the treasures deposited in her custody; and yet behaved with so much condescendence and so much inclination to do good, that out of thousands of officers, civilians, revenue-collectors, dependants, and pensioners, and servants, few, very few must be those that she did not oblige as often as opportunity served; and few those who in the difficult emergencies of their situations did not recur with fruit to her interposition. She knew how to manage in such a manner, as to merit her master’s approbation, as well as that of every person in the household; indeed of every man in office. She left an excellent character behind, and has been universally regretted.
To return to myself, I quitted P8raniah, and went to Carangolah, with intention to proceed to Azim-abad; when I learned that Aaly-verdy-qhan was dead, and that Seradj-ed-döulah, his grandson, had quietly been acknowledged in the three provinces of Bengal, Bahar, and Oressa. On this intelligence I thought it best to tarry at Caran-golah, in order to hear how the new Prince managed with the people of God; as such a knowledge might enable me to take my resolution accordingly, or as time and opportunity should point out. Meanwhile I heard that my two younger brothers, Séyd-aaly-qhan and Ghalib-aaly-qhan, and also my kind maternal uncle, Vehab-aaly-qhan, (which latter was of my age) had been banished out of the province of Azim-abad, where they all lived. This intelligence prevented my going to that city myself; and as the village of Caran-golah was not a place where one might pass the rainy season, fain I was to return to P8raniah, and to take my quarters again in the house I had quitted. And now to follow the order of events, the historian’s faithful pen must revert to Aaly-verdy-qhan’s demise, and give an account of Seradj-ed-döulah’s taking possession of the sovereignty of these rich provinces, and how this event has ushered the ruin of all Hindostan, by putting it in the power of strangers to possess themselves of the most extensive and populous provinces of that region. It is only after giving some idea of that event, that we shall resume in a proper place what concerns Sháocat-djung.
We have said that Aaly-verdy-qhan fell into a dropsical A. D. 1756. habit of body on the ninth of the first Djemadi in the year 1169. He strove for some time to ward off the evil by a total abstinence from water; but afterwards on observing that such a distemper, when attacking a person of his age, always proved incurable (and he was then in his eightieth year), he ceased to observe any diet, or to abstain from water, or to take remedies. Such a state of things could not but greatly alarm Biby Gahassity, his eldest daughter, who was now relict of his nephew, Nevazish-mahmed-qhan. She had this longwhile cantoned herself at Moty-djil, where on seeing how matters went, she had distributed elephants and lacs of rupees to the troops of her deceased husband, in hopes of engaging them to stand by her, against Seradj-ed-döulah. She received their solemn promises, and took their oaths. When reverses are at hand, they engage into such liberalities. It is reported that on it becoming public that Aaly-verdy-qhan was drawing to his end, some of the principal persons of the city fearful of what might happen after his decease, requested to be recommended to Seradj-ed-döulah, by putting their hand within his. The old man smiled at the request, and said: “If you perceive after my death that he has been for three days together upon good terms with his grand-mother, then you or any others may have a chance for yourselves.” So well did he know the man’s character. After having said these words, he lived to the Saturday following, which was the ninth of the month of Redjeb in the year 1169; and at five o’clock in the morning, he departed this life, and repaired to the mansions of divine mercy. Immediately after his departure his principal servants and relations assembled, and after having purified his body, and wrapped it up in a winding sheet, they took it up at midnight, and carried it, pursuing his own appointment, to the feet of his mother, which is entombed at Qhosh-bagh on that side of the river opposite to Moty-djill. O Lord! should you punish him, no wonder, for he is your creature, and culprit; and should you forgive him, no wonder, for you are the most merciful.\(59\)
Aaly-verdy-qhan from his very youth shewed a serious turn of mind, averse from profligacy and debauch, and from every thing that savoured of drunkenness; nor did he seem to have much taste for such amusements as music and dancing, or for the conversation of women. He preferred to pass his time in reciting prayers, in reading the word of God, or in perusing some book of history; and he has affirmed more than once that he had never been guilty of fornication or of drinking wine; for he bore a mortal aversion to those two defilements. He always rose two hours before day-light; and after having gone through the usual evacuations and ablutions, he peformed some devotions of supererogation, and at day-break he said his prayers of divine precept, and then drank coffee with some choice friends. At seven o’clock he went out and sate in state in the hall of audience, where he listened to the representations of his military officers, of his civil officers, of all the persons in office, and of the Grandees of his Court, giving audience and a patient hearing to all comers whatever; and any one could speak to him as long as he pleased. Every one represented his affairs, and received such an answer as his case required; in general such a one as was dictated by goodness and a firm intention to oblige. This audience always lasted two hours, after which he retired into a closet, where he was attended by some persons who were to attend at that place, for instance, by some choice friends, and by his relations, such as Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, and also by Seradj-ed-döulah, if present. After that, he amused himself for a full hour with conversation, with hearing verses, reading poetry, or listening to some pleasing story; to which we must add some occasional orders, which he would give about some dish or other, which was always dressing in his presence at that time, to the care of which was appointed either some of the persons then present, or some person freshly come from Persia or any other country renowned for good cookery; for he was fond of good eating, and had a taste very nice and very delicate. Sometimes he ordered the meat, spice, and other necessaries, to be brought in his presence, and he gave his orders to his cooks, often directing them, and often inventing some new method of proceeding. Meanwhile the heads of office, and the gentlemen and noblemen of the hall of audience were in full attendance, to be occasionally introduced, whenever they had anything to say. As soon as the cooking and dressing was over, the butler presented himself with a number of qhóans or trays and tables covered with all kinds of dishes, and he spread a large napkin. The tables covered with victuals were sent to such of his friends, as he chose to distinguish; always adding some thing from those dishes which had been dressed under his direction. At dinner the conversation ran upon the good or bad taste of each dish in particular, reasoning nicely upon their several flavours, and taking himself a mouthful and no more, from every one. The dinner being over, his guests washed their hands and withdrew; and this way of never eating but with a numerous company of guest, was his custom. It was in general in a company of men; but now and then he chose to dine in the sanctuary, and then he had a like company of women, but not one of them a stranger, being all his daughters, grand-daughters, or nieces or relations. After dinner he retired into a closet to take a nap, at which time the story-tellers and bed-watchmen attended and did their office.\(60\) At about one o’clock he was awake, and after the usual evacuations and ablutions, he performed his purification and his noon-prayers; and these being over, he read with a high voice a chapter of the Coran,\(61\) and then performed his afternoon-prayers; after which they brought him a cup full of water, cooled with saltpetre, or with ice,\(62\) according to the season, and he drank it off at a single draught; which single draught answered all his necessities, without any addition whatever, for full twenty-four hours. After this, the curtain of the room being folded up, a number of pious and learned men were introduced, such as that Prince of learning, the learned Mir-mahmed-aaly-fazyl, (may God perpetuate his honours!) Naky-c8ly-qhan, Doctor Hadi-qhan, the physician, Mirza-hossëin-sesevi, and another learned man from M8ltan, whose name I have forgotten. All these being introduced with respect, were honoured with a request to be seated. In general he attended to these learned assemblies in a hall set apart for that purpose. Over against his own Mesned, but on the opposite side of the hall, another Mesned was always spread for Mir-mahmed-aaly-fazyl, with a large pillow at the back of it, (that learned gentleman used always to come into the palace by the water-gate, that being the nearest). As soon as his Paleky had landed him at the rails of the terrace, which is on a level with the main hall, (a privilege granted only to three persons more, all Princes of the blood) and he had commenced ascending the steps towards the audience hall, which is not a small distance, Aaly-verdy-qhan used to rise, and to stand upon his own Mesned, waiting his walking in. When the learned man had advanced so far towards the hall, as to leave his slippers, and he had entered into the hall (and this was a vast spacious building), then the Viceroy quitted his Mesned and advanced some steps; and having made a respectful bow, the salute was returned in the same style by the learned man, who went and took his seat at the Mesned prepared for him. After his being seated, Aaly-verdy-qhan returned to his own Mesned, and resumed his seat; and then he sent him a small pillow, one of the four always placed on the right and left of the Prince’s Mesned. Immediately after, the Hoccas\(63\) of Mir-mahmed-aaly-fazyl, of Naky-c8ly-qhan, of Doctor Hadi-qhan, and of Mirza-hossëin-susévi, were brought in, and presented to them. Aaly-verdy-qhan himself never smoked, but he drank coffee, and it was distributed round. Coffee being drunk, a pillow was placed before the learned Moltani, and then a Coran was set upon it; being one of those written by Sheh-mahmed, son to Yac8b-Calini or the Calinian. It was a copy of one of those exemplaries, which having been drawn up according to the rules of the Imamites, and then presented to the Lord of Command, who approved them with the word Caafi\(64\) which he wrote underneath, were ever after reputed authentic, and called by that epithet. The learned M8ltany read one or two chapters of it, translating at the same time, phrase after phrase; and the niceties and difficulties in those chapters were occasionally elucidated and explained by the Lord Mir-mahmed-aaly the learned. Sometimes Aaly-verdy-qhan himself would offer a question, or ask about some particular passage; in which case he was answered by Mir-mahmed-aaly-fazyl. These conferences and readings always lasted two hours; after which the Lord-séyd rose, and Aaly-verdy-qhan having as usual advanced some steps, made him a respectful bow, and remained standing until the Lord had put on his slippers, and was advancing to his Paleky, at which time he returned to his Mesned, and resumed his seat. The learned men being departed, the chiefs of offices, the general intelligencer, and the rich banker, Djagat-seat, with some others, attended, and read or mentioned the news of every part of Hindia; or they reported such statements and revenue matters, as had remained from the morning audience; and this second audience likewise took up two full hours. Sometimes Nevazish-mahmed-qhan attended; and sometimes it was Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, if in town; and sometimes Seradj-ed-döulah. These being departed, the room was instantly filled by a number of facetious persons and other bonmots people, such as Mirza-shemseddin; Mirza-zin-el-abedin, the butler; Mirza-cazem, chief holsterer, and chief of the candle and oil-office; Mir-djevad-cooch-beghy; and the Hermaphrodite Mahm8d\(65\) with some others of that stamp; and for about two hours together he amused himself with their craking jokes upon each other, and with their mutual satires. By this time it becoming dusky, the taper-bearers and candle-lighters presented themselves in order with their implements, lighted,\(66\) as is the Hindostany custom, and from the farther end of the yard made their bows, and then repaired to their stations. It was at that particular time, that the Viceroy made his nightly-prayer; and the hall being cleared of men, and made womanish,\(67\) his consort attended, together with Seradj-ed-döulah’s consort and some other Princesses of his family which came to see him; and as Aaly-verdy-qhan never supped, but only ate some fruit, a quantity of fresh or dried fruits with a quantity of sweetmeats was presented to him, of which he ate a little, desiring the ladies to partake of the entertainment; and in general he distributed to each her share. This repast being over, the ladies retired, and the hall being made manish again, it was immediately filled with the officers of the guard, the bed-watchmen, and the story-tellers; at which time he used to get upon his bed, where the latter lulled him to sleep. After having slept two or three hours, he would awake, and ask what hour it was and who was present? And being answered accordingly, he took another nap, waking and asking by turns three or four times every night; but at all times he was awake and up, two hours before the dawn of the day, to recommence that circle of evacuations and occupations which we have been just describing. He was so bountiful in rewarding his servants, and in obliging his Ministers, his relations, and all those that could approach him, that his character in that respect is almost beyond belief. He remembered every one of the friends and acquaintances he had ever had at Shah-djehan-abad, and such especially as had obliged him in his days of distress and poverty; and whenever he could discover any of these, or any of their children, or of their descendants, he never failed to send for them from that capital, and to make them such presents, or to promote them to such offices, or to put such emoluments in their way, as they had never so much as dreamed of. And when those he had enriched in this manner, came to die, he took such care of their widows, children, and heirs, as no man in these hard times, and none even in times past, ever took of his own relations. His administration was so full of lenity, and his attention so intense to the security and quiet of the subject, and of the husbandman especially, that none of them can be said to have been so much at their ease on their father’s knees, or in their mother’s lap; nor was there a man in office with him, without excepting his very menial servants, that did not make fortunes by lacs. For although he did not shew much inclination for such accomplishments, as dancing and singing, or for an intimate society with women, he had an inclination for all other kinds of pleasures and pastimes, and knew how to reward those that excelled in them. He understood arts, was fond of exquisite performances, and never failed to shew his regard to the artistes. Fond of the pastime of a witty conversation, he was himself excellent company; so far, as to be hardly equalled by any of his contemporaries. A prudent, keen, general, and a valorous soldier, there are hardly any qualifications which he did not possess; and few are the virtues which shall not be found to have made part of his character.
Singular instances of his prudence and foresight may be easily remembered to this day. About the latter end of his reign Nizam-el-mulk came to die, and his son, Nassyr-djung, having succeeded him in all his dominions, chanced to be killed by a conspiracy of the Afghans in his service, as he was marching against the French of P8lchurry. This was compassed by Muzafer-djung, who was son to his sister, and had come to an agreement with those strangers, by whom he was vigorously supported. But the new Prince being slain soon after, as well as the Afghan conspirators, he was succeeded at the time by Séyd-mahmed-qhan-selabet-djung, who by the assistance of these same French was seated upon the throne of Decan: revolution memorable which rendered M8shur-b8shi\(68\) the man of the upper-hand, and put it in his power to write a very lofty pompous letter to Aaly-verdy-qhan, with the purpose of recommending the French of Farashdanga.\(69\) This letter, although slighted, made in fact a great impression upon his mind; and as he knew with how sparing a hand Providence had bestowed on Seradj-ed-döulah his share of knowledge and prudence; and he was fully sensible of the manner he would govern the people of God, and upon what bad terms he was already with the Military officers, as well as how prone he seemed to fall out with the English of Calcutta; he used to compare his character and turn of mind to that of Nassyr-djung, and to assure in full company that as soon as himself should be dead, and Seradj-ed-döulah should succeed him, the hat-men would possess themselves of all the shores of Hindia. As I was myself in Seradj-ed-döulah’s service, and fully apprised of his turn of mind, as well as often in his company, and that of his grandfather’s, I remember to have heard that assertion from that Prince’s own mouth. Nor is my testimony a slight one; it will be supported by several persons, then present, to whom I shall refer; and in fact the prediction came to be verified just as his mind had foreseen. On account of this singular prediction, I remember that this Prince being then in the zenith of his power, his General, Mustapha-qhan, who had a boundless influence upon his mind, proposed to him to take Calcutta, and to put all the English to the sword. No answer was given to the proposal. The General brought it forward at another time, but with the support and recommendation of the Viceroy’s two sons-in-law, and no answer was given again; but as soon as Mustapha-qhan was gone, he said to the two advisers: “My dear children, Mustapha-qhan is a soldier of fortune, and a man in monthly pay, who lives by his sabre; of course he wishes that I should always have occasion to employ him, and to put it in his power to ask favours for himself and friends; but in the name of common sense, what is the matter with your ownselves, that you should join issue with him, and make common cause of his opinion? What wrong have the English done me, that I should wish them ill? Look at yonder plain covered with grass; should you set fire to it, there would be no stopping its progress; and who is the man then who shall put out a fire that shall break forth at sea, and from thence come out upon land? Beware of lending an ear to such proposals again; for they will produce nothing but evil.”
CONTENTS.
Account of a number of learned, or pious men, who lived in Aaly-verdy-qhan’s Court, or in his dominions—Seradj-ed-döula commences his reign, by striping and confining his own aunt, Bibi Gahassity—Cause of the war, which he declares against the English—Calcutta taken by him—General discontent against Seradj-ed-döulah—Account of Sháocat-djung, his cousin, resumed —Strange character of that young Prince—Wise advice given him by the author—Dissensions between the two Princely cousins —Extravagant letter of Sháocat-djung’s to Seradj-ed-döulah —He prepares for war—Is defeated, and slain—The author’s distressful situation—Seradj-ed-döula’s prosperity declines, on the famous Sabut-djung’s (alias Colonel Clive’s) coming to Bengal—Calcutta retaken—The Navvab surprised in his camp, close to Calcutta—Submits to a disgraceful peace—Informed of a conspiracy, he orders cannon to be planted against Mir-djaafer-qhan’s palace—War between the English and French, in Bengal —The English object to Seradj-ed-döula’s keeping a few of them in his service—Answer of Moosher Lass, (Monsieur Law) the French Commander, and his prediction—Mir-djaafer-qhan arms, and enters into a secret treaty with the English—The Navvab betrayed, and beaten, at the Battle of Palassy—Noble speech of his to his General—The latter proclaimed Navvab— Seradj-ed-döula flies to Radj-mahal—Is taken, and unworthily used—This sight affects every by-stander; and some officers want to rescue him—Mir-djaafer-qhan takes possession of the palace, where his son governs absolutely—Abominable character of that young man—Seradj-ed-döulah barbarously murdered, by his order—Affecting narrative of his death.
THE course of our history requires now that, before we part with Aaly-verdy-qhan, we give some account of the learned and pious men that lived in his Court and in his dominions; or who, coming on the report of his munificence, had just time to see him, before his death.
The foremost of them was the Moluvy, or Doctor Nassyr, a native of sheh-p8ra, and a descendant of Shems-eddin, the Complaint-promoter, whose tomb and monument are in great repute in the province of A8d. The Moluvy’s grandfather had quitted the place of his native country, to come and settle in that town, in the province of Bahar; and in his youth, that is, in the times of the Navvab Sáistah-qhan the Forgiven, he had been a disciple of Mollah-sheh-mahmed-Shirazi, a learned man, who after having passed some time in Bengal, had quitted India, and returned to his beloved country, which had been all this while the constant object of his regrets. The disciple, who was enthusiastically attached to his master, and to the sciences, quitted both friends and country to follow him into Iran; and such was his attachment to his studies, that although he was so distressed, as to travel all the way on foot, from India to Iran, he never missed a day’s lesson. Arrived in Iran, he attended to the lessons of the masters of that country, until he became himself a complete proficient in the whole circle of Sciences, especially in the speculative ones; such as Astronomy, Mathematics, and Algebra. So that become himself now a man of character and renown, he passed his days in Iran, in honor and affluence. He afterwards came to Cab8l, where he was employed as Second, in carrying messages to the Iranian Governors and Grandees of that frontier, as that employment had been lately declined by Mir-gh8lam-mahmed the Mehadian, a man of great eminence, and incomparable learning, who had been hitherto employed in those negotiations, and had more than once served the famous Emir-qhan, as a mediator in his differents with the neighbouring powers. Moluvy-nassyr, after a long stay in that country, returned to India; and having obtained from the Emperor a small Djaghir or freehold in the province of Bahar, his native country, he settled at Azim-abad, where the house he has raised is still standing, and was, according to his will, left to his grandson, Mahmed-hassen-qhan, who inhabits the same to this day.
The second of those eminent men was Da8d-aaly-qhan, better known under the name of Záir-hosséin-qhan. He was the eldest son of Moluvy-nassyr; equal to him in the practical sciences, which he had learned from him; and superior to him in the spiritual ones, which he held only from himself. At his father’s death, he was appointed not only his universal and sole heir, by a bill of sale in due form, but also acknowledged as his executor. Nevertheless, without availing himself of those deeds, he had the generous equity to make an equal division of the paternal estate between all the members of his family; and it was such as would have been otherwise required by the laws of God; keeping only such a share to himself as he might have been intitled to, in that case. After having in this manner arranged his affairs, he felt himself fired with a desire of visiting\(70\) the Gate of the Pontiff of the World, of beholding the completion of Musalmanism,\(71\) and of kissing the threshold of that door which is watched by hosts of Angels, that is, the luminous monument of the Prince of Prophets\(72\) (upon whom, as well as upon his pure offspring, be salute and grace to all eternity!) After having enjoyed, to his heart’s content, that measure of happiness, after which his heart had so long panted, he returned to the place of his nativity, where he passed his time in assisting the Séyds and necessitous, and in serving his God, by obliging his creatures. In the number of causes daily brought before him for his decision, (for he was both a Casuist and a Magistrate) his sole view was to cut the different short, to the satisfaction of both parties; always contenting himself with his legal fees; and this small pittance, joined to his portion of the paternal estate, he managed with so much industry and economy, as to live honorably himself, whilst he proved a sure resource to the needy and necessitous, and especially to the forsaken widow, and the forlorn orphan, all which he constantly admitted, in great numbers, at his table\(73\) partaking of a simple fare in their company, without pretending to live better by himself in private; and it would be difficult on that subject to give him all the praises he deserves; nor does the historian make any difficulty to acknowledge the impotence of his tongue, on that extensive article. We ought also to observe that on his return from having kissed the sacred and sublime thresholds, he altered his name from Da8d-aaly-qhan, which he had, to that of Zair-hosséin-qhan, which he assumed, constantly glorying in the alteration. After a glorious life of seventy years, he repaired to the mansions of Divine Mercy; and it was observed that at the moment of rendering the ghost, after a virtuous life in which he had been invariably serving his God, he had that adorable name in his mouth; and that he breathed his last in pronouncing the words, O God! may the Almighty’s mercy rest upon him for ever!
The third person was Mir-mahmed-aalim, one of the most virtuous and most venerable persons of Azim-abad, as well as a disciple of Mirza-móez-moosevi-qhan, the Poet. His knowledge was in much repute, and his compositions in much esteem and celebrity; but I cannot speak properly of them, having no personal knowledge of either.
The fourth was the Moluvy, or Doctor Mahmed-aaref; one of the most learned men of his time, and one of those men fond of corners and retirement. He was reported to have an excellent character; but he died in the first years of Aaly-verdy-qhan’s taking possession of Bengal, and he was entombed in the Castle of Azim-abad, where he had always resided. One of his disciples, called Shah-gurg\(74\) or Saint Wolf, was a pious man, (seeking God), whom I have often seen. He lived in solitude and celibacy, at a distance from the world; and he spent his time in prayer.
The fifth was Mir-rustem-aaly, a man satisfied with his corner; but not destitute of science and erudition. This is, at least, the character given him by the persons that much frequent religious men. I knew him but little; but he passed for a man versed in the sense of the Coran, and capable of all the subtilities of explanation. He died at Azim-abad, in Ram-nárain’s Government, and lies buried close to the spot called the Monument of Mir-afzyl, the Cashmirian merchant. It was for this following reason: The merchant, who intended to embrace the same kind of life, and was attached to him personally, got him buried in that spot which he had bought for his own burial; and on his death-bed, he ordered that himself should be buried at his feet.
The sixth was Shah-mahmed-aamin, who lived in celibacy; a man much versed in the sense of the Coran, and so very intelligent as to be inferior only to an Angel. Intent, both interiorly and exteriorly, on the service of his God, he seemed to be brimful of the rays of the love of his Maker. In his actions and words he seemed to have no other view than that of concentring his ownself in the love of the Eternal being, and in a boundless attachment to the Infinite One. His words and actions made so much impression on the mind, that I, the poor man, having gone on the fame of his character, to render him a visit, felt within myself, on entering his dwelling such a disgust at the avocations of this world, and so strong an inclination for abandoning this borrowed habitation, and for addicting myself henceforward to the love of God only, that I was nearly taking my last resolution on that subject. He passed the nights in adoration and mortifications, always awake; sleeping hardly one hour’s time by day. His dwelling was endlessly thronged by visitors; but he was so intent on the object of his love, and he pronounced the ejaculation, “O my beloved?” in such a manner; he fetched such deep sighs, and drew from his breast such moving sobs; that the hearts of the by-standers were set on fire. He was not deficient in learning; but his master, Shah-mahmed, was famous at Azim-abad for miracles and prodigies. Although fully learned himself, he avoided explaining the higher sciences and difficult passages; for whenever his temper softened (and he was somewhat rough and passionate) he would read lectures publicly.
The seventh of those eminent men was Shah-adhem; and the eighth, Háiat-beg. They seemed to have intirely forsaken the world, and to be fantastical in their actions and characters. People recount miracles and great things of them; but the truth of this is only known to God.
The ninth was Shah-qhyzyr (or Saint Green);\(75\) a religious of great distinction, who lived in Saad-p8r, a town of the district of Besara. He was abrupt, and sudden, as well as singular in his actions; but numbers of men of sense that used to frequent him, are full in praising his high character; and many attribute miracles and prodigies to him, in so positive a tone of voice and with so much firmness, as to overwhelm all doubt.
The tenth is the illustrious Séyd-mir-mahmed-sedjad, or Mir-mahmed, the Prosterner, who by his virtues brought in mind all the merits of his illustrious ancestors. Having once chosen to live as a monk or religious, he became a personage of high repute, although he did not value the world more than he did a straw. He was an intimate friend of my forgiven father, under whose auspices he had commenced a poem on what concerns the other world. He was a man of knowledge, understood many sciences, and had so many valuable qualifications, besides, that both tongue and pen would fail in enumerating them at length. We have seen a book of his composition. It gives an insight into the heights to which his mind had soared; nor can it fail to give a high opinion of his merit to any one that will peruse it. After my father’s departure for Shah-djehan-abad, there intervened a sincere friendship between this venerable man and the glorious grandfather of me, the most inconsiderable of mankind. They seemed inseparable. This worthy man intended to enter in the army, and to acquire the merit of fighting the infidels; but he died before he could execute his design, nor do I remember of the year of his death; else, I would mention it. May God have joined him to his pious ancestors, and may He have assigned him a place in his merciful mansions!
The eleventh was the grandfather of this vilest of men, namely, Séyd-aalim-ollah, the Tebateba, who descended from Hassen, elder son to the grandson of the Prophet, and came from the place of his burial;\(76\) and were we to mention all his virtues and merits, the mention would require a volume by itself. Suffice it to say, that he arrived at Azim-abad, in the year 1155 of the Hedjra; and in the month of Shaaban of the next year, he departed towards the mansions of the Divine mercy. The mortifications and austerities he underwent, and the miracles and prodigies he operated, and of which I have been a witness with thousands of others, (because they were always performed in open day and in public) are all taken notice of in a piece of poetry of mine, entitled the Nature of the Pontife. Most of them shall be found there.
The twelfth is the glorious Shah-háideri, maternal uncle to my paternal grandmother. He was bluntly attached to the sect of Shyahs, and noways inclined to spare the opposite sect. Resigned in his fortune, and satisfied with his estate, he was haughty and overbearing to the proud, but full of modesty and deference with the poor and the humble; and here is a proof of it: Ecber-c8ly-qhan, father to the late Mirza-iredj-qhan, which latter was father-in-law to Seradj-ed-döulah, having engaged him by dint of intreaties and importunities to accompany him into Bengal, he settled at Bagalp8r, a town for which he took a liking. It happened at that time, that the famous General, Mahmed-ghó8ss-qhan, was ill, and of a distemper that grew to such a height, that all the by-standers, as well as himself, had despaired of his life. Shah-háidery, who hated the man’s sect, but loved his person, and highly valued his military talents, and heroical prowess, went to see him; and he bound himself to restore him to full health, if he would but embrace the tenets of the Shyism.\(77\) The condition was accepted; and the dying man having recovered his health, became so attached to Shah-háidery, that he turned his disciple, with all his children, and his whole family; and always paid him the highest regard. Matters remained on that footing, until the General was slain with his master, Ser-efraz-qhan, at the battle of Gheriah; upon which intelligence, Shah-háideri quitting his domicile of Bagalp8r, came to M8rsh8d-abad, where he loaded Aaly-verdy-qhan with bitter reproaches, for his black ingratitude: reproaches, with he bore patiently; nor did there come any word from that Prince’s mouth, but such a savoured humility and submission.\(78\) The pious man went into the field of battle, where after having exhumed Ghó8ss-qhan’s body, as well as those of his children, together with the few companions of his that had chosen to die with their heroical General, he carried them to Bagalp8r, where he committed the whole to the earth; and dying himself some years after, he was buried close to the General, his friend. Shah-djaafry, his son, with less bluntness of zeal, and more modesty, than his father, or his equals, lived in silence, in contentment, in resignation, and in the oblivion of the delights and incitements of the world; but nevertheless he was so much esteemed by Aaly-verdy-qhan, and by his children, that they prided in shewing him the utmost regard. Nevertheless he never departed from the humility of his condition, but lived poor and like a real monk; only whenever he intended to intercede for others, he then applied to the great ones, but it was in such a manner, as to shew he did not value their grandeur more than a straw. It happened at some time that Yessen-qhan, Fodjdar of Bagalp8r, had put an end to the pensions paid by that department to poor necessitous people, but had not touched to that of Shah-djaafri’s, which he used to send regularly; but which the holy man refused to touch, unless the pensions of so many needy people were restored at the same time; nor did he complain, or even make any application to Aaly-verdy-qhan who had so high a regard for him. But that Prince having been informed of the injury done to the necessitous of those parts, loaded Yessen-qhan with reproaches and curses, and ordered the pensions to be re-established on the former footing; and then only did Shah-djaafry accept his own. He was naturally of a firm, fearless temper. At the time when Mustapha-qhan, after having quitted the service, was marching towards Bagalp8r, some Sunnies, displeased with the injurious language which he endlessly poured against the Prophet’s three first successors, defered him to his Afghans\(79\) as a bitter enemy of their sect; and it was reported that Mustapha-qhan wanted to call him to an account; but this report did not frighten him. On the contrary, when that General arrived at Bagalp8r, the holy man remained firm and immobile in his habitation, waiting patiently for the crown of Martyrdom. Luckily for him that this threatening evil vanished of itself. But his firmness was no less conspicuous in an affair, that did him a deal of honor. It was about the time of Seradj-ed-döulah’s nuptials, a Mussulman who had killed a consecrated bull\(80\), had his hand cut off by order of Abiram, the Hindoo Officer at Bagalp8r, as Representative of Ata-ollah-qhan, the Fodjdar, then absent; and although the man went to Azim-abad, and carried his complaints to the great and mighty ones, no body took notice of him. Shah-djaafri, shocked at this neglect of justice, joined issue with the injured man; and a general sedition arising, Ata-ollah-qhan became very uneasy, as a multitude of people thronging at his door, wanted to break into his house. The Afghan Generals, Shimshir-qhan, and Serdar-qhan, were then encamped without that city, although out of service; and they seemed inclined to join the insurgents, in so much that the sedition was rising to a height; when the Governor presented himself in the middle of the people, and observed that Aaly-verdy-qhan would be injured by this fray, and incensed at this affair. Shah-djaafry answered: Pacify the injured Séyd, and I have nothing to say. The Séyd being sent for, the Governor pacified him, by promising him a sum of money with some presents, and by swearing to punish those that had maimed him; then only did the malcontents disperse to their homes. There are but few men, that could have mustered on that occasion, so much courage, and faith, and disinterestedness as he did. The truth is, that he was naturally fearless and intrepid; and people remember still, that Shah-djaafry being then a young man, and on a party of hunting, a tiger made his appearance; at the sight of which, Mahmed-c8t8b, elder son to General Ghó8ss-qhan, forbade his going nearer. The Séyd shocked at the order, galloped forward, and jumping down from his horse, he went close to the tiger, and gave him two or three strokes of his whip, to the amazement of all the beholders. The animal, instead of tearing him to pieces, turned tail, and skulked away, exactly like a mouse before a cat; the Son of the Lion of God\(81\) pursued with vigour, and would lay on as often as his whip could reach the animal. A character so fearless, was neverthelss distinguished by much meekness, and a modesty exemplary. He used to receive and to entertain all visitors, partaking in common with them of one and the same humble fare; and in this modesty, as well as in his readiness at all times to support the complaints, and to promote the interests of the Faithful,\(82\) without any view to himself, he had hardly any equal. He died at Monghir, whilst the Navvab Mir-cassim-qhan was residing there in the blaze of full power; but his friends carried his body to Azim-abad, where he was buried in a particular spot, which he had selected for that very purpose in his life-time. May God have done him the favour of joining him to the choruses of his pious ancestors!!
There were, besides those holy men, which we have been mentioning, numbers of pious and religious persons, in different parts of Bengal, all persons of character for sanctity of life and learning; but of whose life, I am not sufficiently informed to commemorate them properly here. One of these was Shah-gh8lam-aaly, in the village of Divrah, about the town of Arvel. Shah-bedi-eddin was another; together with others, who descended from Shah-sherf-eddin-yahya of Bahar. We must also mention Shah-cahilen, in Saher-seram, and Shah-mahmed-mah in Belia, a dependence of Monghir; and also Shah-nedjm-eddin, better known under the name of Shah-mó8lah, in the district of S8r8dj-gara, a dependence of Monghir, where he lived with a deal of ease and satisfaction, enjoying a small estate in land, the revenue of which he spent in entertaining all comers or travellers that would call on him. But Háider-aaly-qhan who commanded Aaly-verdy-qhan’s artillery, having commenced an acquaintance with him, that General made application to that Prince for his bestowing on the holy man the small Parganah or District of Cagra, in the dependence of Monghir; and the request was complied with, with the best grace in the world; so that the General one day presented him with the patent of it. Now that estate is enjoyed by his descendants, that is, by his wife’s relations, who all live comfortably upon the product of it.
There were in those times at Azim-abad numbers of persons who loved sciences and learning, and employed themselves in teaching and in being taught; and I remember ot have seen in that city and its environs alone nine or ten professors of repute, and three or four hundred students and disciples;\(83\) from whence may be conjectured the number of those that must have been in the great towns, and in the retired districts. Amongst those that flourished in the town of Bahar, the Cazy-g8lam-muzaffer, better known under the title of Muzaffer-aaly-qhan, was personally known to Aaly-verdy-qhan, who appointed him to the office of Supreme Judge of M8rsh8d-abad. He was a learned, ingenious, well behaved man, who wrote well both in verse and in prose.
As to those men of merit and knowledge, who led by their particular destiny, quitted the regions of Iran to come to Bengal and into Hindostan, and who in particular settled in Bahar and Azim-abad, the first of those venerable personages was the Prince of the learned and of the illustrious, the Foremost of the renowned doctors, the Veil-drawer of the difficult and hidden passages, the Seal of teachers and institutors, our Lord and Teacher Mahomed-el-medoo-bed-aaly, who changed his name into that of Mohammed-hezin\(84\) the delivered, (to whom may God have granted a high place in heaven!) He was one of the descendants of Shehtadj-eddin-hibrahim, better known under the name of Zahed-the-djilanian; and his fame was spread all over the world. The reputation of his virtues and learning was such, that his writings and compositions were as well known in India as in Iran; his virtues seemed to be an emanition and a manifestation of the powers of the Supreme Being; and himself a creature of a particular choice. I confess, in common with several persons far superior to me in every sense, that in this age he had not his equal. It is even probable that all over Iran and Arabia there has not been a man, so universally learned, as to be reputed a reservoir of every kind of knowledge, sacred or prophane, spiritual or corporeal. He was a standing miracle of the Divine omnipotence; had studied all the sciences; and had such a prodigious memory, that it is doubted whether in this last qualification he ever had his equal. His knowledge was so universal, that there was no proposing to him a question in any point of spiritual science or of practical knowledge, but he would answer it directly. What subtility could be pointed out in the whole circle of science, which he did not unfold, and amongst the mazes and depths of Astrology, in what part was he not thoroughly versed? In fact he was a wonder and a prodigy of his age. The Emperor Mahmed-shah, fully apprised of his merit, sent him several messages by the channel of Emir-qhan, and some other Grandees of his capital, requesting his being pleased to accept the office of Vezir, and to augment thereby the splendour of his Court. But as that worthy man thought it a shame to submit to the inconveniencies of this world, he declined the proposal; for being a man of penetration, he knew that the secret foundations of the Empire were tottering, and likely soon to fall down; and therfore he paid no regard to the request; else, whenever the government of a kingdom is the business, and the correction of a whole Empire is the question, men of those superior talents will never refuse to undergo the burthen of a reformation; nor will they think themselves exempt from contributing to the good of mankind; so far from this, that they will think such a burthen to be obligatory on their character. To stretch too far the threads of this narrative on his virtues and excellencies, would be superfluous in this place. His poesies, glowing everywhere with the sentiments of his heart, shall always bear a sufficient testimony of his eminent merit, and will afford a full information to those that never knew him personally. It was remarked of this illustrious man that he came several times to Azim-abad on his way to his own country of Iran, and always found himself opposed by fate. This is as much as we can say of him; for to mention his arrival and his several voyages with the obstacles he met with, would require much time, and answer very little purpose. Aaly-verdy-qhan, and his two sons-in-law, wrote him repeatedly, in the most respectful terms, supplicating the happiness of seeing him in their dominions. At each time he returned a polite answer, in which he excused himself; but the truth is, he never had any liking to their persons, or any inclination to live in their Courts. From Azim-abad he returned to Banaress, where for several reasons he took up his abode, and where he lived a long time, until finding himself grown feebler and incapable of travelling, he ordered a mausoleum to be raised for himself; and in the year of the Hedjra 1180, his soul winged its flight towards a corner of the Divine Mercy; and his body was buried in the monument which he had himself provided. One day\(85\) as he was looking at his tomb-stone, he had a mind to write some words with his own hand upon it, and these were engraved, with two or three verses of his composition; nor will it prove amiss to remember them here. At the top is the blessed name of God; after which are the words: O Beneficent, your culprit stands before you; receive Mahmed-el-medoo-beaalli the Djilanian, son to Abu-taaleb, and grandson to Abdollah, the Pious. But the very day of his death he wrote this notice of himself in the following verses at the bottom of the stone:—
| “The dark night of my existence is illuminated by the approach of enjoyment; |
| To-morrow is judgment day for me, but it proves a lighted flambeau to my tomb. |
At the two sides of these verses, he added the following ones:
| “Should you ask me what I have been doing in this world, I would answer, |
| I have been attending to the language of love, and know nothing else: |
| Nothing else, but that I have just heard here the inviting voice of my Love. |
| Fatigued from his journey, and sensible of the pains it has cost him, |
| Hezin comes to repose his weary head on this pillow of tranquillity.” |
May God’s mercy be upon him!
The second of those eminent personages, that came from foreign parts, is His Highness Sheh-mahmed-hassen, who is equal to the second Protomartyr, Sheh-zin-eddin-aaly. To mention his illustrious pedigree, would prove as superfluous a task as it would be to point out the sun, a new thing, in the middle of a flaming day. He had not his equal in the knowledge of the Arabic language, in jurisprudence, and in the sense of the Coran, and of its commentaries. As to the metaphysical and profane sciences, he was little versed in them, nor did they attract much of his regard; but he was not a stranger to them neither. His inclination turned him towards theology, and sacred knowledge, expressing little inclination towards profane sciences; but he had no aversion to them, nor did he forbid them to his disciple; for he used to say that the ancient masters were partaged in their opinions, on that subject, and I acknowledge, would he add, my insufficiency in those two articles, and “at a loss how to determine between the two parties, betwixt their right or wrong opinions. God only knows which is best.” The Afghans having taken possession of Iran, and thrown everything into confusion, he retired with his parents and family to the holy tombs of Kerbela and Nedjef,\(86\) and took up his abode there; but forced by poverty, he came from thence to Shah-djehan-abad, where he attached himself to Ab8l-mans8r-qhan. From thence he sent money to his family, and had it brought to him in Hindostan; and meanwhile he was proposed to inspect the education of the young Mirza-djelal-eddin-háider since Shudjah-ed-döulah, son to that General. But as Ab8l-mans8r-qhan came soon after to depart this life, and Sudjah-ed-döulah, turning giddy with the fumes of profligacy and absolute power, did not choose to listen to him any more, he quitted his Court, and retired to Azim-abad, where he was taken notice of by one of the Iranians of that city,\(87\) who perceiving his poverty, made him accept a sum of money to be employed in trade on common risks. The man, little acquainted with merchandise, and little inclined to commerce, put the money in the hands of a third person, and took up his abode in the mausoleum of Saadet-qhan, father-in-law to Ab8l-mans8r-qhan. Meanwhile his agent in trade came from Gorock-p8r with a quantity of Sac8-timber;\(88\) and as Radja Ram-naráin, who in appearance shewed him much regard, but in fact hated him heartily, was then building a palace, he was requested to purchase the whole quantity of timber at the common price, and to pay the money at once. Accordingly, the Radjah’s officers went, measured the timber, set their mark upon it, and for a length of time left it there, without further notice. The poor man sent the Radja word, requesting him either to take up the timber and pay for it according to the terms agreed upon, or to release it intirely, that any other might purchase it. The Radja, proud of his power and superior rank, made a very strange and very improper answer; and it was in these terms: “I fear neither the West nor the East, as you seem to imagine; nor have I bought your timber, but out of compassion; and you had better think so yourself.” The Sheh confounded at the message, answered in a note, that he had not been able to understand His Excellency’s message, “but as to what you have been pleased” added he, “to write of your having no fears.”
Verses:
| “There is a certain being called God, which, you know, |
| Can assuage even the billows of a stormy sea.” |
After this affair, poverty took the upper hand of that worthy man. Luckily that a little time after, Aaly-djah-mir-cassem-qhan having seated himself upon the Mesned of the sovereignty of Bengal, and established himself fully in the possession of the three provinces of Bengal, Bahar and Oressa, he was pleased to call me from Radja Ram-naráin’s service into his own, as we shall mention subsequently, and to put it in my power to procure him from that Prince a noble pension, which enabled him to repay his creditors. However, he did not long enjoy that state of affluence; and in a couple of years more, his last hour being come, he was interred in that spot of ground which had been bought by Mir-cassem-qhan, and is close to the monument of Saadet-qhan’s father. Doctor Ab8l-cassem, his disciple and friend, out of regard to his memory, and out of respect to his tomb, built himself a house close to it. It is true he was a Cashmirian indeed;\(89\) but yet he proved to be a man of excellent qualifications. So that after having honourably and virtuously lived in that house for a number of years, he departed this life last year, that is, in the 1780-81. year 1193 of the Hedjra, and repaired to the mansions of the Divine forgiveness. He was buried close to his master and teacher, and left behind a character of a good-natured man, equally desirous of serving God, and of obliging his creatures; acquainted with the Arabic, with jurisprudence, with sacred law, and with its explanations and commentaries; and whose main scope after God’s service, was to be useful to men, being himself a man of excellent qualifications. He died suddenly the 18th of Ramazan, as he was breaking his fast in the first part of the night,\(90\) and he was universally regretted. May God receive him in the arms of His mercy!
After so many deaths, none remains from amongst those virtuous men of former times, but two persons; and it is for their sakes doubtless that blessings are still showered down upon, earth from heaven; and it is these few who distribute still as much as they can afford, the sealed liquor of knowledge and science to the thirsty creatures of God. The first of these two is the glorious Séyd, that token of the beams of the Divinity, the discoverer of the subtilities and difficulties of the eternal science Séyd-mahmed-aaly, (the cooling waters of whose virtues and learning may God Almighty render perennial for my particular benefit; and as well as that of all the Believers). His father was a native of Iran; but himself was born in Háider-abad, one of the two capitals of Decan, where his father was no sooner arrived than his wife was brought to bed of a son. The father, intent on improving the mind of his child, carried him back to Iran, to have him educated there; and the boy being early initiated in the rudiments of knowledge, took such a liking to learning and to learned men, that in order to push his studies, he attached himself to the complete doctor and excellent teacher, our lord and teacher Mahmed-sadyc-sistani. He got his name inscribed amongst his disciples, and applied himself intensely to the business of sounding all the depths of knowledge, and of unfolding all the subtilities of science; nor did he ever part with that illustrious master, so long as he lived; but continued to increase his acquisitions, until by intense application and gradual labour, he arrived at the utmost height of science; and now he is famed for universality of learning. In the science of theoretical and practical physic especially, he is reputed to have not his equal. With all his merit, and all his knowledge, he was in imitation of all the learned men, his predecessors, fond of retirement, and obscurity, passing his time in perusing the works of ancient masters; nor was he drawn out of his retirement, but by the evils that poured at once upon his country. His master died during the siege of Isfahan; and his father retired to the mansions of Divine mercy. Meanwhile, the country of Iran\(91\) becoming a scene of oppression and troubles, and a variety of revolutions succeeding each other, he remembered his native country of India, and resolved to return thither. After his arrival in Bengal, he lived some days at P8raniah; but in a little time he thought proper to quit that country, as Séif-qhan had some abruptness in his character, as well as some profligacy in his morals. Form thence he repaired to Azim-abad, where he met Abdol-aaly-qhan, the poor man’s paternal uncle, who thinking himself honoured by such a guest, received him generously, and undertook to support him with decency. However, as occasions and opportunities to serve him did not offer, and he wished for an independent subsistence, he quitted Azim-abad, and repaired to A8d and Lucknow, where he remained a long time; until he was invited over by Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan, Governor of Azim-abad, who wrote him pressing letters on that subject. The worthy man, who took those invitations to be so many tokens of a return of good fortune, repaired to Azim-abad, where the Governor no sooner heard of his being near, than he sent some persons of note to bring him over; and he received him with the utmost distinction, making him several presents; for he thought it an honour to settle upon him a noble pension, as well as to oblige him in every thing in his power. This state of things lasted until that worthy Prince was murdered by Shimshir-qhan; at which time the Séyd’s house was plundered, and himself reduced again to poverty; but hearing that Aaly-verdy-qhan was arrived at Mongher, he, like the Prophets of old, fled from a land of oppression, and took shelter in the Bengal Army, where the Viceroy looking upon his august arrival as something auspicious to himself, and as something that announced success and victory to his arms, received him with distinction, and settled a plentiful pension upon him, which was always regularly paid; nor did he ever abate anything from the kindnesses and attentions shewn him at first. But the Séyd himself, fired with a desire of seeing the completion of Mussulmanism, and visiting the monument of the Prince of Men, and kissing the venerable threshold of the First of Pontiffs,\(92\) (upon whom be grace for ever!) took a journey thither by sea, and having enjoyed the happiness for which he had panted so long, he returned to Bengal where he found the Viceroy dying, and Seradj-ed-döulah disposing of every thing. The new Prince, with a petulance that became his character of ignorance and profligacy, instead of continuing to use with distinction so worthy a man, offered him indignities; he ordered him to quit the apartment where he lived in the palace, and this too without allowing him a moment’s respite. The poor man confounded at the suddenness of the order, was at a loss how to account for it, and how to dispose of himself at so short a notice; when he was succoured by Providence. Hassen-reza-qhan, son to one of Hadji-ahmed’s daughters, hearing of that worthy man’s being turned into the street, ran on foot to the spot; and although not certain himself of his own fate, which his attachment to Nevazish-mahmed-qhan had rendered doubtful, and Seradj-ed-döula’s levity and profligacy, precarious, he engaged the worthy man to take shelter in his own house; and a few days after, he made him present of a dwelling and a spot of ground attaining to his own, where he took up his abode, and where he lives to this day; it is on the water side. It is observable that this nobleman, who was then the flambeau and light of his family, had exposed himself the lion’s jaws by so noble an action. But the Divine Mercy, in return for it, protected him from the tyrant’s resentment in a peculiar manner; else, what he had done was full of danger and peril; for the tyrant heard of it, and Hassen-reza-qhan came to think so himself. Seradj-ed-döulah is now gone. He has disappeared from the face of the earth, after having received a full measure for what he had done; but the memory of this noble action shall illustrate the page of history, and remain recorded for ever.
Verse:
| “After two such examples, choose, if thou canst, thine own pattern. |
Thanks are due to the Almighty God, that the learned man is still living to this day, (it being the month of Shaaban of the year 1194)\(93\) and is spending his time in collating books, confronting authorities, explaining the Scriptures, reading lectures upon sciences, and shewing the influence of his learning and virtues over the whole city of M8rsh8d-abad. He is assiduously attended by Hassen-Reza-qhan and his children, by Mahmed-hosséin-qhan, by Doctor-haddy-qhan’s son, and by numbers of the most distinguished persons of the city, who all resort thither to reap the benefit of his vivifying breath. May God continue to stretch the shade of that illustrious Séyd’s person over the heads of his servants and adorers! Amen.
The second of those two illustrious men, which remain to us from the former times, is the Prince of those that fear God, and are attached to the rights of his Pontiff, the Cream of the Learned in the true Science, Hadji-bedi-eddin (Whom God may long conserve at the head of the Mussulmanism, that we may long refresh our thirst at the cooling waters of his virtues and learning!). He was born in the district Sarun, about Azim-abad, and is renowned amongst those pious men, who fearing God, live retired; but with honour and decency. After having acquired a knowledge of the sciences, he resolved to spend his days in the service of his God, and in subduing his flesh. For this purpose he attached himself to Qhadja-mahmed-djaafer, the forgiven,\(94\) who was a Religious of distinction and fortune; in whose service he remained for a long time, as his friend and as his disciple; and where he acquired such an intense love for the house of God,\(95\) and for the tombs of the illustrious martyrs, that he joined society with Hadji-ahmed-aaly, son-in-law to Moluvy-nassyr, the forgiven, and made haste to perform his pilgrimage, and to visit the sublime gates. On his returning from thence, he went to kiss the venerable Rezevian threshold (on which be grace for ever!); and after having enjoyed that happiness, he returned to India, where he now lives with his children and family in Mustapha-abad, a village of his wife’s purchasing. He is solidly pious, deeply versed in the Coran and its commentaries, as well as in jurisprudence, and in all the matters relating to faith. Although noways a stranger to the prophane branches of knowledge, the sublimest doctors reckon him one of their number; and the forgiven Sheh-mahmed-aaly paid him a great deal of regard, and used to say, that there was but one Azim-abad in India, and but one Hadji-bedi-eddin. One day as the Hadji, in his way from Banares to his place of residence, had advanced to Azim-abad merely to see the venerable Shah; the latter conducted him to his very door, where he made a fervent prayer for him. The Hadji passes whole days and nights in prayer; nor is it known that he ever missed the night-prayer called Tehedjud or watching. His time was regularly divided; but with so much vigilance upon himself, that no man living can accuse him of having done an action contrary to law, or unworthy of his age. He is now in his eightieth year, and regrets that whilst not one of the Imams or Pontiffs (on whom be grace for ever!) has arrived at such an age, his own life should have been protracted to such a length. May God conserve so worthy a man, with all those that resemble him, that they may bring down the blessings of heaven upon earth, and refresh our remembrance of those that have preceded him in the paths of piety and virtue!
After such a digression in behalf of science and piety, the thread of our history requires that we should return to Seradj-ed-döulah. That young Prince having taken possession of the sovereignty of Bengal, Bahar, and Oressa, spent some time in his mourning, and then took his seat on the throne of dominion Seradj-ed-döulah commences his reign by striping and confining his own aunt, Biby Gahassity. and command. The first operation of his government was that of ordering a number of his forces to march to Moti-djil, with injunctions to bring his aunt, Biby Gahassity, from thence, and to confine her in some other place; after which the Commanding officer was to seize every thing belonging to her, jewels, money, as well as furniture, and to carry it to his own treasury. It was then that the silly woman found the consequence of having so liberally distributed her money. The Commanders and troops, who had, some time before Aaly-verdy-qhan’s demise, received so much gold and so many presents from her, under solemn promises of fighting for her cause against Seradj-ed-döulah, now finding not in themselves any stomach for fighting at all, had already retired to those places of shelter which they had purchased with her money; and the Commanders being already gone, soon were followed by the multitude; so that there remained with her but a small number of men; who no sooner saw themselves invested, than they seemed confounded, and like men that had lost their wits. Mir-nuzur-aaly\(96\) was as much frightened as any other. This man who had been the author of those schemes of resistance, and who cut so great a figure in the heart of that Princess, as well as in her household, no sooner saw himself surrounded, than being out of his mind as well as others, he engaged in his cause by large presents, two Commanders of character who interceded in his behalf with the new Prince, and found means to procure his escape. These were Dost-mahmed-qhan and Rehem-qhan; but every thing found in the house of that Princess was registered, and sent to the public treasury; and that short-sighted woman, who instead of hating her nephew, ought to have considered him as her own son, received in that day her just retribution, for her having consented to Hussëin-c8ly-qhan’s unjust death; and for having been guilty of an infinity of infamous actions, with which she had dishonoured her character and family. She was disrobed of her rank and honour, striped of her wealth, and put under confinement. Rabia-begum, her sister, had on her side full reason to be frightened; but she escaped with little hurt, by the means of her daughter, relict of Ecram-ed-döulah, who had been brother of the reigning Prince.
This expedition against Moti-djil was followed by very great changes at Court. Mir-djaafer-qhan, who had enjoyed these many years the office of Paymaster-General of the forces, lost his office, which was bestowed on a new man, Mir-meden, a gentleman sent for purposely from Djehanghir-nugur-dacca, where he was one of those attached to Hassen-eddin-qhan, nephew to Hueséin-c8ly-qhan. Mohun-lall,\(97\) Divan to Seradj-ed-döulah’s household, was appointed Divan-General, and Prime Minister, with full power over every branch of administration; the title of Maha-radja, or Great Prince, was added to the investiture, together with a kettle-drum, a fringed Paleky, and the grade of five thousand horse; and so much trust was reposed in that man, as well as so much power lodged in his hands, that the Grandees and Commanders, who had already conceived a dislike to the new Prince, on account of his levity, and his profligacy, as well as his harsh language, and the hardness of his heart, finding themselves subjected to those two new men, and especially to the latter, whose arrogance they could not bear, now set no bounds to their discontents; and every one of them sowed in his breast the thoughts of getting rid of so improper a Ruler; in so much that none remained attached to him, but a few young men, as profligate and as giddy as himself, all of whom had been suddenly raised to power and influence by his means. For as to the principal men in the city and army, every one of them, shocked to see such a man on the throne, were only intent on finding out the means of overturning his power, whether by art, by force, or by treason. And soon fortune favoured their wishes.
Seradj-ed-döulah had, a little after his accession to the throne, Cause of the war which he declares against the English. conceived in his heart the design of wrenching the country of P8raniah from the hands of Sháocat-djung, his own cousin, son to the late Sáyd-ahmed-qhan; and with this view he had repaired to Radj-mahl. Such a sudden arrival threw Sháocat-djung, as well his favourites and Ministers into dismay. They were seized with a panic; and as he did not trust his Ministers as yet, he turned himself towards the religious and pious men of that city, whose prayers he requested, to the end that the imminent evil might be averted, and Seradj-ed-döulah might alter his mind, and return to his capital. But whilst Sháocat-djung was thus employed, news came to Seradj-ed-döulah at Radj-mahl, that Kishun-bohl8b, son to Raja Rahdj-b8llub, heretofore Divan to Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, had given the slip to the guards that had been sent to Djehanghir-nugur-dacca to seize him, and had made his escape to Calcutta, where he was protected by Mr. Drake, the chief man of that town.\(98\) On hearing this, Seradj-ed-döulah gave up his design against Sháocat-djung, and returned to M8rsh8d-abad; where, after writing many sharp letters and reprimands to Mr. Drake, the messages and literary correspondence ended in a declared war; and Seradj-ed-döulah assembled an army against Calcutta. But this Prince, whose head was so much disordered by the fumes of pride and ignorance, as to commit an infinity of errors, continued, even after having declared war, to welter in the miry eddies of presumption, levity and insolence. He neglected, and daily insulted those ancient Commanders, that had served so faithfully and so bravely, Aaly-verdy-qhan, his uncle; so that intimidated now by his grandson’s character and foul language, they did not dare to open their mouths, or to take breath in his presence. Most of them, shocked at the dishonourable expressions made use of in speaking to them, and incensed at the insolence of the upstarts that had taken possession of his mind, were so far from offering advice upon the posture of affairs, or upon the manner of proceeding in this expedition, that they were in general ill-intentioned, and wishing to see its miscarriage, as well as their Ruler’s downfall; and whilst himself, on his side, made it a point not to ask any one’s opinion; on the other, those he consulted (and these were no other than those which he had lately promoted), being most of them incapable and inexperienced, did not choose to mention in his presence any advice that might shock his sentiments, and thereby endanger the power and authority to which they had been so lately raised. As for himself, he was ignorant of the world, and incapable to take a reasonable party, being totally destitute of sense and penetration, and yet having a head so obscured by the smoke of ignorance, and so giddy and intoxicated with the fumes of youth and power and dominion, that he knew no distinction betwixt good and bad, nor betwixt vice and virtue. His imprudence was so enormous that, in the middle of a military expedition, he would set daggers in the hearts of his bravest and ablest Commanders, by his harsh language, and his choleric disposition. Such usage naturally rendered them regardless, and utterly neglectful. Else, this dispute with the English might have been terminated by a few words in a conference, by the least of his Ministers and Commanders, without it becoming necessary to recur to force and to war. But it having been decreed by Providence, that the guilty race of Aaly-verdy-qhan should be deprived of an Empire that had cost so much toil in rearing; of course it was in its designs that the three provinces of Bengal, Bahar, and Oressa should be found to have for masters two young men, equally proud, equally incapable, and equally cruel, Seradj-ed-döulah, and Sháocat-djung; in consequence of their behaviour, equally cruel and thoughtless, smoke was already seen to rise from out of Aaly-verdy-qhan’s generation and house. In one word, Seradj-ed-döulah, after having given his orders for assembling an army and a field-equipage, set out at the beginning of Ramazan, on that ill concerted, ominous expedition of his own contriving; and without consulting any one, he by hasty marches arrived in that field which destiny had sown with thorns and evils for his family. The English being certain now, that Seradj-ed-döulah wanted to go to war with them, resolved, although unprepared for such an attack, to stand to their defence; they shut up some streets of their town, fortified some houses stronger than the others, prepared their ancient factory, and bravely waited for the enemy. Seradj-ed-döulah, who had a numerous artillery, and as numerous an army, soon took possession of those fortified outposts. In a little time, and without much trouble, he soon became master of the English town; and Mr. Drake, finding that matters went hard with him, abandoned everything, and fled, without so much as giving notice to his countrymen. He took shelter on board of a ship, and with a small number of friends and principal persons, he disappeared at once. Those that remained, finding themselves abandoned by their chiefs, concluded their case must be desperate; yet most of them were impressed with such a sense of honour, that preferring death to life, they fought it out, until their powder and ball failing at last, they bravely drank up the bitter cup of death; some others, seized by the claws of destiny, were made prisoners. The capture of the factory was followed by an universal pillage. The Company’s warehouses, and the dwellings of the principal English, Gentoo, and Armenian merchants, all of which were replenished with an infinite quantity of goods and money, were plundered by the vilest part of the army; nor did Seradj-ed-döulah reap any benefit from so much wealth in merchandise and money. This event happened in the twenty-second day of the menth of Ramazan, A. D. 1746. in the year of the Hedjra 1169, just seventy-two days after Aaly-verdy-qhan’s demise. Mr. Watch (Watts), Chief of the factory at Cossimbazar, with a few others from the town of Calcutta, were made prisoners, and kept in confinement.
To all appearance it is in this affair that some Bibies,\(99\) amongst the women of the English, fell in the hands of Mirza-emir-beg. This was a gentleman attached to Mir-djaafer-qhan, one of the Generals of the army. The Mirza, with all the abstinence and reserve that became a man of education and honour, kept them decently and untouched, but in secret; and at night, he informed his master of the whole matter, who gave him a Bhovaliah\(100\), or swift boat, in which he put the Bibies, and let his boat drive, as if by accident, with the stream. Being soon got past the army guards, he rowed with vigour, and in a little time he arrived at twelve cosses below, where Mr. Drake’s ship lay at anchor. There he delivered the Bibies; and these ladies having rendered an honourable testimony to Emir-beg’s modest behaviour, made such an impression on their husbands, that the latter, although nearly destitute themselves, collected some jewels, to make him a handsome present, in acknowledgment of his generous conduct; but it was refused by the Mirza, who said to one of them: “Gentlemen, what I have done, was not for the sake of a present; for as you are a chief man in your nation, and a man of distinction and sentiments, so I am a gentleman in my own nation, and a man of honour and humanity. I have done nothing but what was required by a sense of honour; and what might entitle me to your remembrance.” After saying this, he got into his boat, and rowing all night, he rejoined his master before day-break. And really what he had done is no more than what ought to have been expected from a man of honour; for such ought to be the actions of gentlemen. As to those men who style themselves Mussulmen, and have laid their hands upon the properties and honour of other people, their actions are no better than so many suggestions of the Demon of Concupiscence, and so many illusions of the Devil, their prototype\(101\) and master; and they are such indubitably, although their rulers should pretend to derive their pedigree from the successors and heirs of the Prince of Prophets, and should fancy that they are actually armed and fighting in the cause of God. Vain are those pretensions of theirs! For their acions prove indubitably that they are attached solely to this world; there being an evident difference betwixt the works of the just, and those of such worldly-minded men as we whose only scope and aim is this world, and only this world. The difference is indeed indisputable and amazing.
Verses:
| “Do not measure the works of the Virtuous after your ownself; |
| Nor so far mistake, as to find no difference betwixt shir and shir\(102\).” |
Doubtless were the Prophet himself or the Prophet’s heir, to come into the world again, whatever they should command would be obligatory on a Mussulman, and would require his submission and obedience; but in the Pontiff’s absence, or that of his Prophet’s, self-defence only becomes our right; by which it is meant, that if any one should attack our life, honour or property, and injury is not otherwise to be prevented, we have then a right, nay we are obliged to repel it by whatever means are in our power. This unquestionably is lawful to us; but not, that out of ambition and covetousness, we should, on those accounts, expose to imminent danger both ourselves and the People of God. Accursed and destroyed be the house of those faithless Muftees\(103\), who by their shameful answers and disgraceful sentences, have plunged a world of Unfortunates into a sea of evils! But destroyed it has already been. God, our Lord, preserve us, as well as all the other Faithful, from the wickedness of such men, as put us in fear of demons, and of man\(104\).
But to return to our history, Seradj-ed-döulah, after having passed some time at Calcutta, in beholding the destruction of houses, and the desolation of numbers of its innocent inhabitants, as well as in completing some other affairs, which he fancied to be very advantageous and proper, at last set out for his capital, where he arrived in full health. He had left for the guard of his new conquest a body of eight or nine thousand foot, and five thousand horse, the whole, as well as that town, under the command of Manic-chund, hitherto Divan to the Radja Bardevan. This Governor was a man, presumptuous, arrogant, destitute of capacity, and wholly without courage, as it did appear evidently enough at Bardevan, when he fled with all his might, on seeing Aaly-verdy-qhan surrounded on a sudden by the Marhattas. It was after such an experiment that Manic-chund was entrusted with so extensive a command; and it was after making so insulting a choice, that he went on disobliging and shocking his principal Commanders, such as Mir-djaafer-qhan, and Rehem-qhan, and especially Omer-qhan, an old officer, whose two sons, Selabet-qhan, and Dilir-qhan, were soldiers of merit, and as well as of old standing. He ill used Radja Do8llobram also, as well as many others, all Commanders of character, all deserving the utmost regard, and all thoroughly estranged from him by his harsh language, and his shocking behaviour; nor were the principal citizens of M8rsh8d-abad better used, Djagat-seat especially. General discontent against Seradj-ed-döulah. All these were tired of living under such an administration, and wished no better than to be rid of such a government, by Seradj-ed-döulah’s death; so that whenever they chanced to perceive any appearance of discontent anywhere, or any hatred against the present Government, they would send secret messages to the party, with exhortations to contrive some mode of deliverance; under promise of their being heartily and effectually supported. Mir-djaafer-qhan, as the most considerable and the most injured of the malcontents, was the foremost amongst them. Djagat-seat had underhand promised to support him vigorously; and they formed together a confederacy, which has been hinted at in the narrative about Sháocat-djung, and which shall be explained in the subsequent pages; for now it becomes proper to resume that young Prince’s history, in order to see how he went to wreck. Such a digression necessarily must have its place here, to answer the expectations of those, who having already got some idea of the profligacy and ignorance of that young man’s character, are desirous to know how he continued to mismanage, and how he ended at last.
We have already mentioned how Sáyd-ahmed-qhan died, and how he was succeeded by his son, Sháocat-djung, and how not thinking proper to remain in that young Prince’s service, I, the Poor Man, had quitted P8raniah, with intention to repair to Azim-abad, where our family is settled; but that hearing at Carangolah that my two younger brothers, and my maternal uncle, Séyd-abdol-vehhab-qhan, had been banished from that city, by a late order of Seradj-ed-döulah’s, I had become fearful of that Prince’s resentment, on my own account. So that finding it difficult to get out of his dominions, it being a voyage that would have required fifteen days, and in the height of the rains; and full as disagreeable to pass that season in such a lonely place as Carangolah, I had thought it better to return to P8raniah. Account of Sháocat-djung resumed. But no sooner was I landed in my home, than my very imprudent friends became urging for my taking service with that senseless youth, Sháocat-djung, whose character I knew, or had guessed so well. I would answer, “that my attaching myself to that young Prince was not likely to last long; that I foresaw that his affairs would not end well; that now that I was sitting in a corner of my own house, I was safe from these two thoughtless young men, (Sháocat-djung, and Seradj-ed-döulah); but that once engaged in the former’s service, I would be exposed to the shafts of the perverse character of both: and for these reasons I requested their tormenting me no more on that subject.” All this did not avail. They would endlessly observe that even death in good company was not without its pleasure; and they all seemed discontented and estranged from me. At last finding that I remained immovable, they one day contrived to come in a body to the Poor Man’s house, with the Prince at their head; and this young man made use of so many intreaties to draw me out of my retirement, that I soon saw that unless I submitted instantly, I might see realised in few days all those evils and misfortunes, which I had only conceived as probable. I conceived that I might experience directly what I feared might happen only in the sequel; and that the Prince, incensed at my refusal, would render my stay at P8raniah very uneasy, by setting up some subject of quarrel upon some past subject. Being then at a loss how to manage, I opened my arms to all contingencies, agreed to attach myself to him, and commenced frequenting his Court. For a few days, the young man being much at a loss what to do with his own self, seemed studious of following my advice (doubtless out of natural levity of temper), and he made it a point to manage all his affairs mostly by my counsels, or at my desire. So that like the Vezir\(105\) in the game of Chess, I was close to a wooden King, that could neither think, nor act, by himself. I was obliged to read him lessons about signing papers, giving audience, and supporting a character in public; and he was so intent on profiting by my lessons, that when I chanced to arrive too late at Court, he would stay all proceedings, and remain silent, until I was come. Such a conduct put me to a deal of trouble and embarrassment. He could neither read fluently, nor write legibly; so that I was obliged to be both his school-master, and his Minister. I was obliged to direct his pen, teach him that Aba was written with two As and a B, and to tell him how to join A to the next letter, and a syllable to a syllable, and how to keep his words asunder. I thought he was improving his hand and mind; when one day, as there were many papers to be signed, he on a sudden shewed marks of impatience; and throwing his pen away, he rose, in a visible passion, from his Mesned, and went and sat at a distance from it. As there subsisted no reason of discontent between us, I did not ask what might be the cause of this sudden flash, but continued sitting a full hour; after which I rose, and taking a respectful leave, I was followed by all the persons present, and I went to Ro8h-eddin-husséin-qhan’s house. This nobleman had espoused his sister, being a son of Séif-qhan the forgiven, and had an extreme regard for me. After taking my seat, I could not help mentioning with wonder that suddenness of behaviour in the young Prince, for which I could not account in any manner in my power. I had hardly done speaking, when a servant of Sháocat-djung’s brought me a note, signed by his master. It was in these terms: My Lord is my friend, and not my school-master; why does he give himself so much trouble about my reading and writing? I answered, “that in this I had only acted as I had been desired to act; but now that I was better informed of his pleasure, I would no more give His Highness any trouble on that head;” and for some days, I let him do as he pleased, without offering a single word; until one day he came himself close to me, and with many importunities desired me again to oversee his reading and his signature. I desired to be excused, and added, “that young Princes were of a fiery temper, and I, the Poor Man, fearful of offending, as I could not always guess what might be His Highness’s pleasure; and that I hoped he would hold me excused.” But he would not hear of my excuses; and he continued his importunities so assiduously, that fain I was to alter my conduct; but yet I only answered every question he put, or only taught whenever he desired it; and matters went on in that manner for some time, when one day there came a letter from Mir-djaafer-qhan, that exhorted him to stand up, and to wrest the whole of Aaly-verdy-qhan’s estate from Seradj-ed-döulah’s hands. He mentioned several Commanders and Grandees, “who, as well as Mir-djaafer-qhan himself, looked upon Sáyd-ahmed-qhan’s son, as their only resource against the growing and daily cruelties of Seradj-ed-döulah’s; and he pledged himself that he would be strongly and unanimously supported, as the enterprise was easy, and it only wanted some one to sit on the throne; in which case all the others would undertake to place him thereon, under certain conditions and stipulations, which he mentioned at length.”\(106\)
This letter, and some others of a like style, together with the concert that seemed to subsist between the principal men at M8rsh8d-abad, overset entirely the brainless head of Sháocat-djung, and what contributed not a little to this disorder, was the arrival of two strange beings that appeared at the same time at P8rania. The one was a certain light-headed Mir-maaly-qhan, one of the many ones that had a sister amongst Saadet-qhan’s consorts, once Sovereign of A8d. He made suddently his appearance in Sháocat-djung’s Court, and as suddently was taken into his service. This man, who was an ancient friend of Mir-djaafer-qhan’s, acquired a complete command over his mind; and as he soon became thoroughly acquainted with the young man’s temper, he filled his head with chimeras. The other of these two men, was one Habib-beg, who had been for years together in Aaly-verdy-qhan’s service, and was of a temper inclined to oddities, whims, and profligacy. This man having somehow fallen under Seradj-ed-döulah’s displeasure, at Calcutta, had thought the place too dangerous for his safety, and had fled for his life to P8rania, where he also was inlisted amongst the friends and favourites of Sháocat-djung’s; and these two men, in hopes of turning to account that young Prince’s propensity to flattering proposals, too care to keep alive that high opinion which he had now conceived of himself; nor did they cease to flatter him to his heart’s content. Totally ignorant of the world, and circumvented, as well as deceived, by the false representations of those sycophants, he thought that the misfortunes which had brought them so far, were so many advantages for himself; and now being full in the focus of flattery, he bubbled into high-flown notions of his person, which he really thought superior to any thing under the orb of the moon; and being made sensible by those two men of his own importance, he was often heard to say: “That after having taken possession of Bengal, he would, just to clear his way, fall first upon Ab8l-mans8r-qhan’s son, and then would subdue the son of Ghazy-eddin-qhan;\(107\) and that after having placed on the throne an Emperor of his own liking, he would push on as far as Lahor and Cab8l, from whence I shall proceed to Candahar and Qhorassan,\(108\) where (added he) I intend to take up my residence, as the climate of Bengal does not suit my state of health.” Such were the notions of that young man’s, and such were his projects. But as his father had found means to open a correspondence with Zya-ed-döulah, and with Djelal-eddin-mahammed-qhan, who were the favourite friends of Mir-sheab-eddin-umad-el-mulk, the Vezir, he soon obtained from thence leave to take possession of the three provinces governed by Seradj-ed-döulah, under condition of sending to the Presence the latter’s confiscation, and of forwarding regularly an annual tribute of one coror of rupees.
On the receipt of that patent, his pride, which had already reached to the sphere of the moon, now rose to the sun’s orb; and he commenced picking up quarrels with the principal officers and Commanders of the old Court. Those men, whom his father had been at so much pains to attach to his person and family, and who had spent their lives in his service, were now taken to task for the childish reason of their having, in his youth-time, disobeyed some orders of his, whilst they had injunctions to the contrary from his father, and of course acted consistently with their duty. Most of those old soldiers were now degraded, lost their appointments, or were used with contempt, to the heartfelt satisfaction of Mir-maaly-qhan, and of Habib-beg, his associate, as well as of all those who had been the companions of his boyish pastimes; and who being mostly as thoughtless as himself, were so far from repressing his ardour, that they would add fuel to it. All these beheld with satisfaction the depression of the old Grandees, in hopes that they would soon succeed to their places; as they reckoned that every mark of contempt or disgrace set upon them amounted to as much as a mark of distinction conferred upon themselves. The two new comers especially were the foremost, in exacting him to a full execution of his authority, and meanwhile they were contriving opportunities to get from him rich dresses of honour, and elephants, and horses, and jewels, and new offices. As to my own part, seeing how matters went, I sometimes observed to them, “that they ought first of all to contrive how to strengthen their Prince’s Government, and how to confirm his power; and that this being once solidly established, it would be time then to think of getting jewels and elephants.” My observation did not avail; no attention was paid to it, and the Prince went on as he had commenced. One day he took into his head to seize and confine Lally, the Colonel, who commanded the artillery, a Gentoo of capacity and courage, whom Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, his father, had attached to his family by treating him with the utmost regard and distinction. He sent for both me and my younger brother, Naky-aaly-qhan, and having carried us into his closet, he exposed his views against that officer. I heard patiently what he said, but did not answer a single word; whereupon he intreated me to conceal nothing from him, but to tell him whatever I might think advantageous for his affairs, and proper for his circumstances. So much earnestness put me off my guard, and I could not help answering in these terms: “Let Wise advice given him by the author. us examine first, what is the reason that so many Generals of the army, and so many Grandees of the State, have conceived so much aversion against Seradj-ed-döulah’s person, as to apply to you for their deliverance, although he has unquestionably upon their gratitude all the rights acquired for him by Aaly-verdy-qhan’s repeated favours, and long reign; and then it will be found out, that it is solely because none of them think either their lives, or their honour, or properties safe; because they have been every one of them insulted and outraged; and because they think you incapable of so senseless a behaviour; but as soon as they shall see that you do not spare your father’s best servants; that you are searching to circumvent and to demolish them; and that you are no better than Seradj-ed-döulah himself; rest assured that they will be disgusted at you, and will return to Seradj-ed-döulah.” This advice of mine, bold as it was he had sense enough to approve; and sending for an elephant, he made me a present of it, and dismissed me to my home. But in few days after, his thoughtless companions brought him again to their own way of thinking. He resumed his project, and having found means, underhand, and on the incitement of a higher pay, to prevail on Lally’s men to disperse, and to inlist in other corps, he put the rest under command of his own son, Séif-eddin-mahamed-qhan, a boy, born these two days; and getting upon his elephant, he marched in an hostile manner against Lally’s house, and quarters. At sight of this, the few officers and men that had yet stood by that Commander, forsook him, and he was left alone in his house. Mahmed-sáyd-qhan, and my younger brother, Naky-aaly-qhan, went in, and taking him by the hand, brought him to Sháocat-djung. This thoughtless man wanted to put him to the whip immediately. He was opposed by the two officers that had brought him, who strongly interceded in his behalf, and objected to the indignity of the proceeding; but all to no purpose; he persisted in putting him to the whip. At last Mahmed-sáyd-qhan, losing all patience, spoke to him in a firm tone of voice: “My Lord and Master,” said he, “punishments of such a kind are not to be inflicted upon officers;” and these words having been approved by all present, they joined in interceding for him again; and at last the man was saved from the whip; but he was put under confinement, and his elephants, horses, money, effects, and furniture, were all seized and confiscated; so that the man, in one day, saw himself reduced to his last rupee. A few days after, his wife and family were ordered to attend him; and thirty rupees being put in his hand, to bear his charges, he was placed in a boat, sent on the other side of the Cosséy, towards Bir-nagur, and left to himself. After this expedition, Sháocat-djung assumed a higher tone of voice with his Commanders. He spoke harshly, and in obscene language to them; and by such a strange alteration, he lost the hearts of every one of them. He now commenced speaking irreverently of his ancestors, and mentioning them in very indecent language. One day, sitting in full Court and at noon-day, at which time the hall of audience is always crowded, he turned towards the Commander-in-Chief, Car-guzar-qhan, and said: “Doubtless, Car-guzar-qhan, after the conquest of Bengal, shall compliment me with the pay of his new raised men.” The officer, surprised at this speech, but without losing his presence of mind, answered directly: Yes, my Lord, and Master; for I hope they shall get so much booty, that they will not grudge such a portion of their pittance. “You are mistaken,” replied Sháocat-djung; “I am not such a sot as Aaly-verdy-qhan, who always used to give to his men every thing that was found in an enemy’s camp. For my part, I will not part to them with so much as a handful of straw, above their pay.”
Another day Mir-maaly-qhan, who was now become Fodjdar of Siraniah, Navvab-gundj, and other places, having been sent for, to be put at the head of an expedition against Rungp8r, came and presented a petition, which chanced to commence in these words: Navvab Refuge of the world, greeting. This expression of Aalem-penah having hit his fancy, he sent for Hazyr-aaly-qhan, Superintendent of his hall of audience, and directed that his mace-bearers and ushers should henceforward make use of that title in presenting people\(109\). But there is something still more curious: he sent for his Secretary, and ordered him to write a letter to the Vezir, Umed-el-mulk, to this purport, and nearly in these terms: “As it is customary for people in writing to you, or in introducing any one, to address your Highness by the expression of Navvab, Resource of all the inhabitants of the world, greeting; so I, who am your Highness’s son, have chosen for myself the title of Aalem-penah; and I hope that you shall condescend to make use of it, in writing to me.” After having forwarded this letter, he accompanied it by eleven Esherffies, sent as a nuzur, or homage, for that new-fangled title of his contrivance. But here is more. His protectors at Court were Zya-ed-döulah and Djelal-eddin-mahmed-qhan; and to both he wrote “That whoever should use any other title than that, would receive no answer and would have his letter torn to shreds.” Such was his extent of mind. As to his morals, although he did not seem vicious, yet he dressed and spoke like a woman;\(110\) but this did not prevent him from abusing, in a low and obscene language, every one whatever, without distinction, and that too in the fullest hall of audience. So that officers and Commanders, dignified with the titles of Hezarys or Colonels, and Bahadyr or Courageous, submitted to such indignities, and remained silent; and such was the style of the Court, when that senseless Mir-maaly-qhan proposed to take possession of Rangpoor, and requested assistance. The request was immediately complied with, and an order issued accordingly; but no one could obey. The rainy season was at its height, and the whole country under water; nor was any man fool-hardy enough to set out in such weather; so that the mad man, Mir-maaly-qhan, finding so much slowness everywhere, set out himself, and contrived to advance, little by little, as far as three days’ journey; but after undergoing a deal of fatigue, he was obliged to stay where he was, without being able to advance one step farther.
Such being the state of the Court and of administration, the city of P8raniah could not fail to be full of conventicles. People shocked at Sháocat-djung’s shameful language, and tired to death with his no less shameful behaviour, used to assemble in several houses; and there, in the middle of their friends, they exhaled their complaints. In several of these assemblies, the traitor Habib-beg had found means to introduce himself, as an associate and friend; but under the mask of friendship he listened to whatever was said, and used to report it to his master, whom he informed that the officers of his troops especially, had entered into a confederacy together, with intention to betray him. Nothing could be more false than such a report, and nothing more destitute of any foundation. It is true, that Car-guzar-qhan, the Commander-in-Chief, and many other officers of consequence, like Sheh-abdol-reshid, with many other men of note, had resolved to go to Court in a body, and to request him, with threats, to forbear the infamous language he made use of in speaking to them. It was resolved to inform him “that, if after so fair a warning he trespassed again, it would be at his peril.” The intent of all which, after all, was only to frighten the thoughtless young man into a better behaviour, and into a more decent language; and indeed this resolute proceeding had its full effect. The young Prince, now become sensible of his danger, sent for a number of them, and made publicly some concessions, promising them a better behaviour. All were satisfied by this promise; but the thoughts of betraying him were disclaimed by all; and all turning their eyes upon Habib-beg, on whom they all fixed their suspicions, intreated the Prince to name the man that had given him so false an information; that he might point out his authority, in his and their presence, if he had spoke the truth; and if he had uttered a falsehood, that he might receive at their hands the chastisement he deserved. Habib-beg, confounded and embarrassed at finding all the eyes turned upon him, took the accusation up, and said, “that he had not spoke of any treason, but only had given him to understand that he would do well to alter his language and behaviour; as his people were ready to abandon him, and one of the foremost of those would be himself.” But this construction, which he now put upon his own report, having been reprobated by all, as founded on falsehood, Sháocat-djung himself took a dislike to his new favourite; who finding himself loaded on the very spot with reproaches and taunts, by all his friends and acquaintances, then present; and observing also that he had now become an object of contempt and reproach to both sides, thought that there remained no other party for him, than that of quitting the world, where he had lost his character. Laying down, therefore, both his arms and clothes on the spot, he exclaimed, that, “if there should be a battle, he would stand by them; else he bid them his last farewell. I am now a Fakir, said he; and have done with the world.” And luckily for him that he betook himself to that expedient; else, it was the general intention to chastise him rigorously in full Court.
But although the breach betwixt the servants and the master seemed made up by this incident, yet the latter, who perceived their being estranged from him, took a dislike to all his officers and troops; and sending for some field-pieces, with some of the men of the artillery, whom he could trust, he planted them at the gates of his palace; and placed a guard at each of them, with orders not to suffer any armed men to enter. As the officers, on their side, conceived a deal of mistrust from this behaviour, every one of them retired to his house, and declined going any more to Court; so that the Prince, finding himself deserted, was fain to give a counter order, and to admit every one, armed or not.
Whilst the Court of P8raniah was a prey to so much mistrust and misintelligence, news came that Lally, the Hezary, or Colonel, had been invited over to M8rsh8d-abad by Seradj-ed-döulah, and that the man, glad of the invitation, had repaired from Bir-nugur, to that capital. Sháocat-djung, on hearing of this, was extremely surprised and astonished; and he said publicly that “if Lally had been capable of such a treason, after all the rights which the deceased Prince, his father, had acquired over that officer’s gratitude, there was no expecting fidelity from any one else.” Strange indeed, that Sháocat-djung should remember so well the favours conferred by his father on that officer, and should forget at the same time the disgraces and injustices he had himself so recently heaped upon him! Strange indeed, that after such a behaviour, he should expect gratitude and fidelity at the man’s hands! But such was his language, and such his turn of mind. To mention all his ridiculous and thoughtless actions would require volumes; and a pity it would be to consume ink and paper upon such a subject. Meanwhile Seradj-ed-döulah, informed of his hatred to him, of his impudence, his impatience, and his thoughtlessness; and apprised also of Mir-maaly’s motions, and of the behaviour and turn of mind of all his favourites, had resolved to try his pulse; and although a very strange man himself, he wondered at the strangeness of the report, and thought it better, if possible, to avoid coming to a rupture. But some fresher intelligence which he received, made him determine to put an end to his pretensions as soon as possible. As a prelude, he appointed Ras-beháry, younger brother to Radja D8l8bram, to the Fodjdary of Bir-nugur, and Gondvara, both in P8raniah; gave him the patents of it, and sent him to take possession, entrusting him at the same time with a letter for Sháocat-djung. Ras-beháry advancing as far as the shore opposite to Radjemahl, sent a supplique to Sháocat-djung, which contained his own request, and Seradj-ed-döulah’s letter; and meanwhile he stopped there to wait for Sháocat-djung’s permission to proceed. The purport of the letter was as follows: “That as the two Perganahs or Districts in question were going to be given in Djaghir to another at the Imperial Court, he had thought it improper to suffer the introduction of a stranger in that country, and had rather chosen to assume them himself, as Dissensions between the two Princely cousins. his own Djaghir, after having requested them in his own name; and as there was no difference between them two, and their interests were one and the same, he had sent Ras-beháry to take possession of them; requesting his being pleased to give him possession, and to send to M8rsh8d-abad an act of it.” Such a letter could not but surprise Sháocat-djung. He resolved to ask counsel from his friends; and having assembled them, he also sent for me. These were Mir-maaly-qhan, and the Commander-in-Chief, and Habib-beg, and several other Commanders, and Grandees, whose fidelity he trusted. They all assembled, and I found them silent, when I arrived. On arriving, he opened the letter, and asked their advice on this overture. The whole assembly, to a man, turned its eyes upon me, and all asked my opinion; the Prince did the same. But as I was discontented this longwhile, I contented myself with answering, that whatever His Highness would determine in his own mind, doubtless would prove the best party possible. He was not satisfied with this answer, and he intreated me so strongly, that being unable to resist any more, I answered in these very terms: “That as the rainy season was not yet over, and there was no possibility for horses, or even for infantry to move in the field, so as to excite any apprehensions, I thought it would be proper to pass over with dissimulation and compliance that favourable time of release and safety; that we must therefore send for Ras-beháry to Court, and by fair promises and a civil behaviour, keep him in suspense. But meanwhile that the Prince ought to write to Serádj-ed-döulah a respectful letter, approving what he had done as very proper; but adding at the same time, that as Sháocat-djung thought himself one of those intitled to favour and beneficence from the hem of his Princely robe, he supplicated that those two districts might be, in compliance with the custom, left annexed to P8raniah, charging himself with remitting to this treasury the Malg8zary or fixed revenue of those lands. I added, that after writing the above letter, he must wait to see what answer Seradj-ed-döulah would make. That meanwhile Ras-beháry was to be used with regard and much civility; but that meanwhile, himself ought to turn to some benefit what remained of the rainy season, so as to assemble his artillery and forces. That after the rainy season should be over, it would be proper to make an alliance with the English, who were reported to intend marching against Seradj-ed-döulah; and then only it would be time to act and advance, as time and occasion should point out.” This advice, thanks be to God, was approved by him; and he ordered the Secretary to draw up the letter in that style, paying me, at the same time, many encomiums; so many indeed that the courtiers, according to their rivetted custom, thought it incumbent upon them to imitate their master, and even to go farther; and they became so profuse in my praise, that he took a disgust at them; and altering his tone of voice, he broke out in these terms: He is a man of sense indeed; but will ever his sense be equal to mine? He has the sense of ten thousand men concentred in his brain; but I have that of several hundred thousands concentred in mine. Nor do I approve of his advice at all. This said, he sent for Ras-beháry’s messenger, and having reprimanded and buffeted the poor man, he sent for the Vezir’s letter, which he looked upon as his patent, and ordered it to be read with a loud voice in full Court; after which he gave a verbal answer in very rough terms to the messengers, and added a letter to Seradj-ed-döulah in the same style. The purport of which was this: “I have Extravagant letter of Sháocat-djung’s to Seradj-ed-döulah. received from the Imperial Court the patent of the three provinces of Bengal, Bahar and Oressa, in my own name; but as there subsists a brotherhood and a parentage between us, I forbear meddling with your life, and shall assign for your subsistence any part in the province of Djehangir-nugur-dacca, which you shall like, and point out; and the patent of it I shall expedite, whenever you please. Meanwhile do retire into those parts, and leave the palace, treasury, and furniture to my officers; and take care to send me your answer speedily, as I am waiting for it with a foot in the stirrup.” The messenger returned to Ras-beháry, delivered the verbal message, and put the letter in his hand. The Prince shocked at what he called mummery and farce, resolved to march in person, and to chastise Sháocat-djung; and meanwhile he ordered Radja Ram-naráin to fall upon him on his side, with the forces of Azim-abad, and those of the Zemindars under his command. Ram-naráin, in compliance with the order, set out with Radja Sunder-sing, and putting himself at the head of the forces of Azim-abad, which alone could not amount to less than the double of the forces at P8raniah, but which at any rate must have been a great deal more than equal, he marched against the enemy. As to the forces which Seradj-ed-döulah had with himself, part was sent under the command of his Divan, Radja Mohon-lal, with orders to cross the Ganga, and to fall upon the enemy on the side of Samdah, Bessent-p8r-golah, and Haiat-po8r; and with the other part, he advanced to Radj-mahal, resolved to cross the Ganga there, whilst the Governor of Azim-abad being nearer, had already crossed over with his forces. Sháocat-djung, who had always had in his mind some day or other to come to war with Seradj-ed-döulaah, and whose letters and messages to that Prince had He prepares for war. now rendered it unavoidable, ordered his people to look out for a proper camp, where his army might rendezvous. His Ministers, some of whom had belonged to his father, and were not destitute of abilities, pitched upon a spot at the entrance of the province, which was a difficult part, betwixt Maniári and Navvab-gung, as being surrounded everywhere by lakes and morasses, so that there was no approaching it but by a narrow passage, that ended in a narrow causeway. The lakes were everywhere two or three cosses over, and deep; and in some places, where they might be accessible in dry weather, the passage had been barred by a deep ditch, and a rampart; so that the post had become very strong, and such as would have enabled a sensible Commander to defend himself in it for seasons together, with a small number of troops, against a numerous army; and that too without a possibility of his being assaulted, but with the utmost difficulty; for the back part was his own country, from whence supplies might be received with ease and facility. This post was approved of on all hands; but what is singular, the Commanders of the troops, especially of his cavalry, out of disgust against his indecent way of speaking, were desirous of encamping at a distance from him; and himself, out of mistrust to them, was not pleased with having them for his neighbours. So that whilst the cavalry was marching to the rendezvous, orders were sent to the troops to encamp on the shore of the little river, Sonra, which was at about a cosse and-a-half, or even more, from his own tents; and these last had been pitched within the intrenched part. In consequence of such a disposition the principal Commanders encamped at too great a distance from each other. These were Car-guzar-qhan, the Commander-in-Chief; Sheh-djehan-yar, his nephew; Sheh-abdol-reshid; Mir-s8ltan-qhalil-qhan; and some other persons of consequence. Amongst these was Mahmed-sáyd-qhan, son to that Ab8-t8rab-qhan-t8rani, who had been slain at the battle against the Zemindar Adjadj8, in Saadet-qhan’s service. There were several other Commanders that had served under Séif-qhan; and I was there myself, with my younger brother, Naky-aaly-qhan. All these might be said to be the flower of the army. Shiam-sunder, a Bengaly-cahet, who in fact commanded the artillery, (as there had not been any other Commander of it, even in his father’s life-time, but Sháocat-djung himself), thought proper to encamp within the intrenched part; yet so as to have his station on that narrow tongue of land that ended in a causeway, and was the great passage in and out of camp. In this manner this army of good troops, destitute of a chief and of a head, was encamped in two distinct portions, at about tow cosses distance from each other. News arrived every day of the approach of Seradj-ed-döulah’s army. But on the day before the engagement, intelligence came, that the enemy’s vanguard was coming; and every one in our camp, although without any chief Commander, prepared for defence. Some time after, intelligence came that the enemy had encamped at some distance, but that to-morrow they would come down for an attack. In the evening the spare tents of Sháocat-djung’s were pitched; but without it being known yet when he would come; and we passed the night in that incertitude. The next day, being the twenty-first of Djemadi, in A.D. 1756-7. the year 1170 of the Hedjra, at about two hours after day-break, that Prince made his appearance. His officers and Commanders immediately crowded around his tent, to pay their respects, and I was of the number; but such was his perverseness, that even at that moment, even at such a time, his front did not open; nor did he unknit his eyebrows; nor did he drop any thing, from whence one might conceive that he had dismissed those suspicions he had so unjustly conceived against his people; even at that time he neither said or did any thing calculated to gain their hearts. He contented himself with commanding his officers to return to their quarters, there to remain encamped as they were. So that those brave men were obliged, with broken hearts and dejected countenances, to repair to their encampment, which was on the right hand, that is, at a full cosse and-a-half from the infantry; and there they remained, waiting for new orders. He remained himself in that spot, within which he had brought a number of gentlemen on horseback, that had no Commander but himself; and also some corps on which he most trusted; such as that of Mir-merdan-aaly, a relation of Qhandö8ran, the Minister of State at Delhi; he commanded the body-guards, and had distinguished himself by an ensign of cloth of gold. The other corps were commanded by Miten-lal, Divan to Sháocat-djung; by Séif-eddin-mahmed-qhan, nephew to Aga-azimai, a gentleman, who, since Lally’s disgrace, had been invested with the command of that officer’s corps of about a thousand musqueteers; lastly by Sháocat-djung’s own brother, Mirza-ramazani, who went by the title of Hady-aaly-qhan-djessaret-djung, and had four hundred horse under his command. All these were taken within the fortified part of the camp, like a troop of beasts inclosed together in a net for the purpose of being shot at; and in this disposition, Sháocat-djung thought he provided for the safety of the intrenchment, although he thereby put a distance of full two cosses betwixt one part of his army and the other. Whilst he was giving such senseless orders with a peevish tone of voice, there happened to be close to him an old Afghan officer, Omer-qhan by name, who had been introduced into the service by Mir-so8ltan-qhalil-qhan, where he commanded a body of four hundred horse; he was an old officer, and an old warrior, who had seen a variety of services. On observing the Prince draw near, he had turned out his troop, in compliment to him; but even such a mark of respect did not soften his mind; nor would he abate anything of his wonted peevishness of expression, and severity of looks; he only took care, by the harshness of his language, to disgust all those brave soldiers, to a man. By this time the two-thirds of the day being spent, Seradj-ed-döulah’s army, under the command of Mohon-lal, his Divan, was making its appearance, betwixt Abari and Maniáry; and its standards, planted on a high ground were descried from afar; nor was the distance betwixt the two armies in any sense more than two cosses. As every one was doing as he pleased in our army, Shiam-sunder, the Comptroller of the Artillery, who wished to shew his courage and zeal, but who in reality betrayed only his ignorance and inexperience, quitted at once the post where he was within the intrenchment, and going out of the neck of land, he planted his artillery at about half a cosse farther, and of course at about one cosse and-a-half from the enemy, which latter shewed themselves from the south and west. By taking that position, Shiam-sunder deprived himself of the protection of the intrenchment, and of the benefit of the lake; for he had advanced beyond the lake. However, on the other side, where the main body of the Bengal army was showing itself northward and southward, there remained still a broad lake, of about two cosses over, between them and Sháocat-djung’s army; but Mohon-lal having advanced with the principal officers of his army, amongst whom were Mir-djaafer-qhan, and the two friends, Dost-mahmed-qhan, and Mir-cazem-qhan, with the two brothers, Dilir-qhan, and Assalet-qhan, both sons to Omer-qhan, pitched his tents on an eminence upon the shore of the Ganga, where he stopped, out of precaution, ordering his light artillery to be placed in front, and to fire on the enemy; but the distance was so great that most of the balls fell in the lake. This was not the case with the large artillery, which being by this time come up, its ball went beyond the lake, and one or two of them fell within the intrenchment. Sháocat-djung, on observing that the balls could reach him, ordered the insignia of his dignity, that is, the Mahi\(111\), to be lowered down, and carried at some distance; and he reprimanded the servants that stood round him, as if those traitorous fellows, by thronging round his person, had wanted to render him as conspicuous as a mark to fire at. The poor people immediately dispersed, and went at some distance; still he was not satisfied, and could not abide in one place. Umer-qhan, the old officer above spoken of, happening to be near, could not help expressing himself in these terms: “My Lord and Master (said he), what kind of battle is this? I can make nothing of it; nor did I ever see any such thing in all my wars in Decan, nor under Nizam-el-mulk. This is not the way. Here every one does as he likes. The troops must be assembled in one place, and ranged in battle array; and the artillery must be stationed in front; and the men must march together, and in a compact body, and stand their ground with firmness; and then only victory and success my be expected.” Sháocat-djung took the remonstrance ill, gave abusive language to Nizam-el-mulk, and said: “I have no occasin to be taught what I am to do; for I have fought myself three hundred battles.” The old officer, after this rebuke, hung his head; but added not a word. It was after giving this rebuke, that he remembered of the Commander, Car-guzar-qhan, and of the other officers whom he had placed at such a distance with their cavalry; and he sent a trooper to ask them, why they remained motionless, as so many marks for the enemy’s balls? Doubtless you have not the heart to fall upon them, I suppose. The trooper went, delivered his message, and brought this answer: “To attack so superior an enemy with our small force, would be highly imprudent; and were we ever so well inclined the lake and its miry borders would effectually prevent us. Let the enemy advance themselves, as they do actually. After they shall have fatigued themselves in emerging from the mire, and shall then have received some discharges of artillery and musquetry, it will be time then to fall upon an enemy so weakened and disordered; and if the case happens as we conjecture, we shall then do as we shall be able to afford; and such an advantage is all that our small numbers can pretend to.” This answer raised his anger; he dropped some coarse, abusive language, and sent back the man with this message: Do not talk like so many cowards; a Gentoo, such as Shiam-sunder, has advanced out of the intrenchment with my artillery, and is now pouring his balls amongst the enemy; and you that pretend to be such mighty Commanders, stay behind to talk of prudence and caution. By this time it was already noon; and until the horseman might carry this rebuke and bring an answer, more time would be spent; and in fact, there remained now but one-third part of the day; but Sháocat-djung, who had already taken his dose of bang, was by this time inclined to give vent to the fumes of it\(112\), and to amuse himself with listening to the songs of his women; for being now incapable to hold up his head, he alighted from his elephant, and went into his sanctuary. On seeing this I retired with some other officers into the audience tent, where on sitting down, I could not help saying these words: “The day is now far spent, and there remains no more now than one-third part of it; if we can pass over that space of time, without any accident, we must sleep as we can to-night; and to-morrow, after having taught common sense to this blockhead, we shall join together, and march out in a body to fight together; and then happen what it will, but fight we shall in a body at least.” After having said these few words, I got up, with intention to go over to the cavalry, encamped at a cosse and-a-half distance, in which was my brother, Naky-aaly-qhan. But on coming out of the intrenchment, in my way thither, I perceived that Car-guzar-qhan, with Habib-beg, and Mir-So8ltan-qhalil-qhan, unable to put up with the taunts conveyed by the horseman in his third trip, had put themselves at the head of the cavalry, and were crossing the lake with all the pains imaginable; and they had only the other half to wade through, and would soon be engaged. This sight struck me; I stopped, and said to myself: “I am too far off; nor can I pretend to join them in time. Unhappily our troops are strangely dispersed. Our best Commanders with their cavalry are wading through mud and water, while the enemy is endlessly firing upon them with their rockets and artillery; and if they be able to cross over at all, it shall be after they shall have been thoroughly thinned in their numbers, and spent with fatigue; if they be not, they shall to a man perish in the lake. As to Shiam-sunder with his musqueteers, he is at a great distance from them. God only knows whether he has a mind to join and support them; and if he does, whether he shall have it in his power; and if he has it, whether he shall arrive betimes. Our two armies will be beaten then, one after another, and without being able to effect a junction. Better to return back, and to advise this thoughtless youth. If I can get him upon his elephant, and with what troops are here, he make haste to join his cavalry, I am not without some hopes.” After this soliloquy, I came back, and having advanced close to his quarters, I found that he was listening to songs, and amusing himself with dances; but on being informed that his cavalry and Shiam-sunder’s musqueteers being joined, were advancing towards the enemy; he got, half drunk, upon his elephant, where I saw that he could hardly support himself. Already the troops encamped with him, and which had retired to their tents, were assembling from all parts round his person; but meanwhile a whole hour was lost in these motions; and meanwhile the troops that were crossing the lake, were already engaged, but in a disorderly, confused manner. I was urging Sháocat-djung to advance to support his men; but he could not support himself; he was out of his senses; and at every tenth step, he would lay his hand on the driver’s shoulder, to make him stop. I urged still, without being discouraged, as his presence alone would be of some use, and his people were hastening about him. But already as we were getting out of camp, I could observe that the cavalry, having at last crossed the lake, under the enemy’s fire, were now engaged with a stiff mud and dangerous mire, from whence few could get out; and meanwhile they were shot at like so many marks. So that most of them being killed or wounded, before they could join the enemy, and the others being unable to stand their ground even there, they gained the firm land, but it was to fly at a distance.
On observing this, Mir-djaafer-qhan advanced upon them, with Mir-cazem-qhan, and Umer-qhan, and all his cavalry; and falling sword in hand upon our dispersed men, they drove them everywhere before them, without the latter having been able to make a junction of their small numbers, or to be joined by us. In this manner many of our brave Commanders, overpowered by numbers, fell uselessly to themselves and to us. Abdol-rashid and Mahmed-sáyd-qhan, after performing feats of valour, drank manfully the bitter cup of death, as did Mir-so8ltan-qhalil himself. Aaly-naky-qhan and Habib-beg, who had lost their horses, and fought on foot, were severely wounded; and being taken prisoners, they were conserved alive, as being known to Mir-djaafer-qhan and to Dost-mahmed-qhan. Sheh-mahmed-yar-qhan finding himself left alone, performed what could be expected from so brave a man; and he retreated safe, carrying with him Car-guzar-qhan, who had heroically exerted himself, and had received several dangerous wounds. Shiam-sunder fled also, but much wounded. The Commanders of the enemy’s, having so easily defeated this advanced moiety of our army, formed again, and advanced in order, against those they saw about Sháocat-djung’s person. On sight of this, Mir-merdan-aaly, who commanded his body-guards, and Miten-laal, who commanded the foot-guards, turned about, with Mirza-ramzani, brother to the Prince, and, without waiting for the enemy, they fled full speed. Séif-eddin-mahmed-qhan, who had succeeded Lally, fled also, after receiving several wounds; none of his musqueteers would stand by him. Sháocat-djung, now left alone with only fourteen men, one of whom was myself, was totally out of his senses, when a musquet-ball lodging into his forehead, made him return his soul Sháocat-djung defeated and slain. to its Maker. His serpitch and yellow turbant fell on the ground, and were taken up by some body. Finding now that all was over, I went away, with the very few that remained; and then we dispersed, each going to his home. Mir-morteza, who bore the surname of Emir-qhani, for having served under the famous Emir-qhan, and was now one of the favourites of Mir-djaafer-qhan’s, having spurred his horse towards the elephant that carried Sháocat-djung’s body, ran a small lance (one of those iron ones called Barchys) with so much force, that it ran from behind into Mirza-rostem-aaly’s shoulder, (who sat in the qhavvas)\(113\), and came out on the opposite side, close to the neck. He at the same time called out: Surrender, and let me have those arms of yours. The man to whom he spoke was a brave officer, of much personal merit, and much zeal in the sect of the Imamites, of which he was an intrepid assertor. Roused by the wound, he drew his sabre, and turning to the spear-man, “And who art thou, said he, that darest to ask my arms, whilst I am alive? Dost thou believe that I wear them to surrender them to such a fellow as thee, that has wounded me from behind? Come near, and I will give thee the arms; draw but near, if thou darest.” Mir-morteza would not go nearer; and the elephant continued his route. The evening coming on, put an end to the contest; but nobody pursued, and every one on both sides retired to his home, without any hindrance from the peasants of P8raniah, who were not courageous enough to come down in numbers, and to plunder the living, or strip the dead, as they do in Hindostan. As to us, my brother and I, who were objects of resentment to both sides, our case was more embarrassing. Sháocat-djung had been heard to say, that as soon as he should have gained the victory, he would make an example of those two men, who were more refractory than all the others put together, and whom so many had taken up for their patterns; and Seradj-ed-döulah, on his side, used to say, “That Sháocat-djung was a negative, passive youth, pushed on by these two men, who were his advisers, and the authors of all the troubles; and that after the victory he would take care to punish them both as they deserved.” Once he wrote us a letter, to invite us over to his army, under promises of promoting us to the utmost of our wishes, should we quit Sháocat-djung’s service. But we did not write him an answer, lest we should expose ourselves to a variety of reports. We contented ourselves with giving the messenger this verbal answer: “Tell your master, that should we now go over to his service, at such a time as this, what confidence could he repose in us? It seems that the victorious remembered of this answer; for two or three days after the battle, he, of his own motion, ordered both Naky-aaly-qhan, and Habib-beg, his prisoners, to be put each in a chopalah, or chair, and carried beyond the Kurrum-nassa, with a sufficient sum of money to bear their charges. He at the same time, sent Radja Mohon-lal to take possession of the treasures and effects of Sháocat-djung’s, and ordered Mir-cazem-qhan to attend on him with his corps. As this officer was son-in-law to my maternal aunt, he took the liberty to represent to that Prince that “Gho8lam-hussëin-qhan, if alive, must be at P8raniah, with his consort, children, and family, as well as his brother, Naky-aaly-qhan’s family; and that he hoped from his goodness that no ill usage should be offered to either, as it might affect his slave’s honour, or cast a slur on his sentiments of attachment to that family. May it please your Highness (added he) to give your Princely orders to the Maha-radja accordingly.” By a particular good luck, it happened that this Minister was himself present; and the Prince turning to him, said these very words: “Radja Mohon-lal, you must not think that Gho8lam-hussëin-qhan’s mother is only related to the brave Mir-cazem-qhan. She is my own aunt, and I profess a high regard for her. Take care that no injury is offered them. Furnish them with money and with a pass, that they depart with safety and decency; and that they may repair whithersoever they may have a mind to.”
Distressful situation of the Author’s.This order was the more opportune for us, as from the field of battle, I had repaired directly to my house in P8raniah, where I knew that my mother, overcome by her fears and anxiety, was beside herself. I endeavoured to console and comfort her; but she observed, that we must now seek out for some corner, and live in it in retirement, until we might see what would be the end of all these troubles. I listened to the advice, and taking my consort, and a small number of attendants, I retired into a corner, where I remained concealed, and from thence I wrote to Mir-cazem-qhan (may God’s forgiveness be upon that good man). On receiving my note, he answered it directly, and accompanied it by some troopers of his own, who had orders to protect my lodgings. Himself set out on the third day after the battle, and came to P8raniah in company with Radja Mohon-lal, where he took up his abode in my lodgings, and from whence he spared the pains in saving my property, and in protecting my person; exerting himself in the handsomest and noblest manner. Mohon-lal, it is true, sent for the elephants and some of the serpitches that had been presented me by Sháocat-djung, but laid his hands upon nothing else. Some persons, like Mir-maaly-qhan, and Aga-mir, with some others, were confined, by the Prince’s order; but no opposition was made to my sending by land part of my baggage, and by water all my furniture, and every thing belonging to me; after which I set out myself for Azim-abad. When arrived there, some Mussulmen, our acquaintances, took care to have us refused the liberty of coming into the city; and we therefore took up our abode in Shah-erzan’s cell and habitation, an old acquaintance of mine, who prevented us from going farther. This, however, was doubtless in hopes of our being overtaken by some subsequent order, that would not please us, but would afford him much pleasure. Praise be to God, that his expectation was disappointed, and that the order he so much wished did not arrive at all. Luckily for us, that Ram-naráin, the Governor of the province, who had been to visit his Badjinat\(114\), chanced now to return to Azim-abad, where he had the goodness to urge our deparfure; and unwillng to give us an escort himself, he gave us a pass, but directed Phaluvan-sing and his brother to afford us the escort. Meanwhile I fell sick in that cell of Shah-erzan’s, and was very ill; but none of our numerous friends and acquaintances in the city thought proper to pay us a visit or to see how we did. Out of such a number of acquaintances, only three persons thought proper to remember us. The first was Doctor Gho8lam-aaly-qhan, a Physician (whom God may lodge in a corner of his mercy!); he came to see me, just as he had done in our days of prosperity, and afforded me his visits as a friend, and his care and medicines, as a Physician. The second was the Lady Misri-begum\(115\); she was a relation of Mirza-darab’s, daughter of Mir-séyed-mahmed the Ispanian, and a consort to Mir-háider-aaly the forgiven. May God Almighty preserve that worthy lady in health and prosperity, and may He vouchsafe to render her happy in the next world! With a motherly tenderness, and the most sedulous solicitude, she was day and night with us; and she accompanied us in our journey, as far as Muhyb-aaly-p8r; so that it required our joint efforts, and our entreaties, to make her return; else, her intention was to accompany us as far as the Kuremnassa, which was the last boundary of Seradj-ed-döulah’s dominions. We live now at a distance from her; but even at such a distance this chaste, pious, and worthy lady exerts for this Poor Man all the solicitude of the tenderest mother. The third person who remembered us, was the late Sheh-nasr-ollah, son to Ynáyét-yahhia-qhan, heretofore steward to my forgiven father, and in the sequel, to Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan, Governor of Azim-abad (on whom may God’s mercy rest for ever!). He was then a young man, and had been so lucky, as to have obtained, through the pious and worthy Shah-mahmed-aaly-hezin’s intercession, the post of steward to the Nizamut of Azim-abad. This young man, under pretence of visiting Shah-erzan’s monument, came several times to see me; nor did he miss any means in his power to procure us a safe retreat out of Seradj-ed-döulah’s dominions. God be thanked for it. By a particular disposition of his infinite goodness, we travelled in safety throughout that hostile country, which was before us; and I arrived in health, with all my family and effects, at the city of Banaress; where I had the happiness to kiss the feet of that venerable, pious man, His Highness Sheh-mahmed-hezin, and the honour of paying my respects to my maternal uncle, Séyd-abdol-aaly-qhan, the Valiant in Battles, who was then out of employment, and lived in that city in the utmost distress. As an addition to my good luck, I met in the city my younger brother, Naky-aaly-qhan, who had been so fortunate as to get safe out of the hands of such a tyrant as Seradj-ed-döulah. I also met there my two other brothers, who had been already banished some time ago from Azim-abad, by order of that Prince. Thanks are due to God Almighty, for these benefits, and for the many such benefits, which I have received besides in the course of my life; thanks and glory be to His goodness, for every one of them! Mohon-lal employed the few days he remained at P8raniah in assembling and sending to M8rsh8d-abad the treasures and effects of Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, as well as his women, and children, which latter were kinsmen and relations of Seradj-ed-döulah’s. To these he added Sipahdar-djung, son to Séif-qhan, who was also sent with the utmost regard and honour to M8rsh8d-abad. This nobleman had espoused one of Sáyd-ahmed-qhan’s daughters, a Princess that died when her father was engaged in the expedition against Mahmed-djelil, the Zeminder of Cagra. Mohon-lal also took care to resume the many extravagant gifts which Sháocat-djung had at times bestowed; and after establishing order in the country, so as to arrange every matter of Government, and finance, he appointed a person to act as his deputy, and repaired to his master, who took care to assign suitable pensions to every one of his cousins. He carried them to his capital, where he took up his abode in a new palace of his, called Mans8r-gunj, and lived in all the pride of victory and prosperity.
This Prince, now in the full blaze of success, had asembled
in his palace, all the treasures hoarded up by several preceding
Seradj-ed-döulah’s
prosperity declines.
Princes, with an infinity of precious effects and jewels, that
had been the fruit of the searches and toil of several illustrious
houses and families. He seemed then in the zenith of power and
prosperity; but it was at this very time that preparations were
making for his ruin; and it was at this very time his fortune
was verging to a decline. Nor is this a novel thing. It is the
constant course of events all over the world, that whenever things
have risen to their zenith, they after that period verge towards a
decline, and tend to their ruin. For every completion naturally
advances to a declension, and sometimes brings it on in so
complete a manner, that people have been at a loss how to find
out the footsteps and traces of former prosperity. The manner
in which Seradj-ed-döulah’s fortune and dominion were brought
to that predicament is, in few words, as follows:—
Mr. Drake, that Chief Man of Calcutta, who had been the author and cause of all these troubles and all this ruin, having fled on board a ship with a few gentlemen that had escaped the engagement, had retired to Mendradj, a factory of consequence, which the English have in Decan, in the province of Arcat; and probably he was followed thither by some other English, of the better sort, who being then dispersed all over Bengal for the purposes of trade, had found means, after the capture of Calcutta, to make good their way to Decan, through a variety of dangers. There was then in those parts a Commander in the King of Inghilter’s service, but appointed to attend on the Company; an officer who after many years’ war had conquered several countries of Decan from the French, and was now living at Mandradj, where he commanded a small force that did not amount to more than one or two Paltans of Talingas\(116\), and three or four companies of European soldiers. This Commander, by his many victories over the French in Decan, had been greatly instrumental in rescuing from their overgrown influence the Sovereign of that country, Sáyd-mahmed-qhan-selabet-djung, son to Nizam-el-mulk. So many successes had procured him the title of The Steady and Tried in War\(117\), and he was considered as a General Sabut-djung, alias Colonel Clive, appears in Bengal. warrior of consequence. This Commander having assembled the principal men of the factory of Mendradj, together with those that had escaped from the hands of Seradj-ed-döulah, threw the dice of consultation amongst them. The unanimous result of their deliberations was, that the brave, the Tried in Battles, Colonel Clive, should repair into Bengal with those gentlemen that had escaped from thence, and should endeavour by every means which he could devise, to rebuild the factory there, and to re-establish the Company’s trade in the manner it had existed heretofore. This he was at liberty to effect, whether by paying a sum of money, or by force and violence, just as circumstances should point out. Colonel Clive, after this deliberation, embarked on board of some ships, together with the gentlemen escaped from the factory of Calcutta; and taking with him what troops and artillery were ready and at hand, he arrived with his ships at that part of the river called the Blue-water\(118\), where the Bagrauty joins the sea, and where he cast anchor. But as the Commanders of that nation are prudent, wary, and experienced in affairs, as well as extremely brave in a day of battle, he thought it incumbent upon him, first of all, to try what could be done in the way of negotiation; and with that view he wrote to Seradj-ed-döulah, “to intercede in behalf of Mr. Drake, whose trespasses he requested might be forgiven; to offer some lacs of rupees for leave to rebuild the English factory, on the former footing; and for re-establishing the English trade in his dominions: a salutary measure, by which he doubted not but the dust of dissension and mutual discontent might be wiped off from each other’s eyes.” Seradj-ed-döulah, who was the most senseless and ignorant of men, and who had favourites still more extravagant than himself, held a consultation with his Grandees, upon these proposals; but found not a man that would advise him to accept of a peace on the proffered conditions. For the English being known in Bengal only as merchants, neither himself, nor any of his favourites, had any idea of the courage and abilities of that nation in war, nor any idea of their many resources in a day of reverse. And on the other hand, those that had some right notions of the matter, did not dare to open their mouth; and indeed, had they opened it, no one would have listened to their words; besides that every one of them, tired with Seradj-ed-döulah’s Government, and reduced to despair by his tyranny, wished ardently to see him embarked in some enterprise that might end in his ruin. It was even dangerous to say any thing of peace; and if any one did dare to say as much, he never failed to be laid hold of by the others. Those ignorant favourites of his, would seize the adviser by the throat, and gripe it so hard as to make him ask for quarter, and swear that he would never mention that tale of his again.
Advices of all this having been duely imparted to Colonel Clive, and himself being now fully apprised of the dissensions sown in the country, and of the peculiar turn of mind of all the Grandees of the Court, he grew tired of waiting to no purpose for an answer, which no one thought of sending, and he prepared himself for acting with open force, and for an offensive war. He brought his ships to an anchor over against Manic-chund’s lodgings, and commenced a cannonade; but having soon observed in the enemy’s motions much ignorance and confusion, he landed his men and artillery, and marched against him. The senseless Governor of the place, intimidated by so much boldness, and not finding in himself courage enough to stand an engagement, thought it prudent to decline a nearer approach, and he fled with all his might. The English General seeing the enemy disappeared, Calcutta retaken by the English. took possession of the factory and fort, raised everywhere his victorious standards, and sent the refugee gentlemen every one to his ancient abode, and every one to his own home. Such a piece of intelligence having soon been conveyed to M8rsh8d-abad, could not fail to disorder greatly that stuffing of pride and ignorance, with which Seradj-ed-döulah had been at so much pains to fill his head and ears; and he prepared to come to Calcutta to oppose the progress of the English. Such being the instability of human things, that two months and twenty-two days had hardly elapsed since the conquest of P8raniah; and hardly had that Prince commenced to repose in his palace in the security of success and victory, when at once there appeared signs of that retribution due to his actions, as well as tokens of the declension of his power. It was the 12th of the second Reby, in the year 1170, when he quitted his capital to march to Calcutta, A. D. 1757. fully bent on expelling the English. He was followed by a numerous army, furnished with every necessary for war. Being near Calcutta, he encamped in a spot of ground that had hit his fancy, and which he thought advantageous likewise. From thence he was every day making attempts to recover possession of that town, and yet every day listened to proposals of peace. Insomuch that both war and peace subsisted at one and the same time; whilst the English, who had their particular views in that doubtful state of things, made it a practice now and then to come into camp, under pretence of an agreement, but in fact to examine it, as they intended all this while to surprise the enemy; and such a manœuvre required a man that should take a full knowledge of the chart of the country. They took care therefore to send with their envoys a man conversant in Geometry, and who to that talent added an enlarged understanding, a keen memory, and much acuteness of comprehension. This man, in his frequent trips, acquired a comprehensive notion of Seradj-ed-döulah’s camp, as well as of his own private quarters, with all the roads that led thither, and every other important matter, that had a relation to his object; so that after having hoarded up all that knowledge in his memory, he made on his return a very circumstantial report of what he had observed. Probably the next night after that man’s return, but certainly two or three nights after, the English, who had formed the project of a night-attack, put their troops in boats at about two in the morning, and rowed towards the extremity of the enemy’s camp, where they remained waiting during the latter part of the night. At about the dawn of the day they landed on the back part of the army, and entered the camp, where they leisurely commenced a hot fire, which being repeated by those in the boats, rendered musquet-balls as common as hailstones in a storm; so that vast numbers of men and horses, which happened to be exposed to it, were slain or wounded. Dost-mahmed-qhan, who was not only a principal Commander in the army, and a man of great personal valour, but also one of the most attached to Seradj-ed-döulah, was wounded and disabled. Numbers of other officers, whose names I know not, underwent the same fate; and it is reported that the design was no less than to lay hold of Seradj-ed-döulah himself, and to carry him away. Luckily for him, there fell such a fog and mist, of the kind called in Hindian, cohessa, and it occasioned such a darkness, that two men, though ever so close, could not distinguish each other. This darkness made the enemy mistake their way, as well as Seradj-ed-döulah’s private enclosure; so that this Prince escaped narrowly. It was observed of the English, that they marched steadily, with order and deliberation, as if it had been a review day, firing endlessly on every side, until they arrived at the front of the camp, from whence they returned lisureley to their posts and fortified houses, without suffering the loss of a single man.
This strange attack intimidated to a high degree both Seradj-ed-döulah, and his disorderly, timorous army, which was in such a dismay and confusion, as to anticipate all the horrors of the Day of Judgment. Henceforward it became dangerous to remain encamped close to an enemy, so daring, and so alert; and he resolved to carry his camp farther; but first of all, he sent for Mahmed-iredj-qhan, his father-in-law, as well as for the principal Grandees of his Court, and the chief Commanders of his army; and having assembled them in his tent, he asked them what was now to be done, and where he must encamp? The assembly, on observing his fright and panic, advised him to encamp at a good distance, and to listen to proposals of peace. But by this time the English, fully sensible of his pusillanimity, and thoroughly acquainted with the intrigues in his Court, had altered their tone of voice; and they talked of his making good the whole amount of what had been plundered by himself or by his army at the sack of Calcutta, an amount that rose to an immense sum. At last, after many interviews, and much negotiation, and many schemes about war and peace, it was agreed on both sides, that Seradj-ed-döulah should make good in ready money the amount of the loss undergone by the Company; and that as a security for the other losses, he should deliver into the hands of the English six Perganahs or Districts in the neighbourhood of Calcutta, with the product of which they were to indemnify themselves fully; after which the Districts in question were to revert to the Navvab’s officers. Mr. Watch was the person employed in these negotiations, and in the conclusion of the treaty, where he acquired the good will of both parties, and was applauded by both sides. This man had been taken prisoner at Cassim-bazar, but had recovered his liberty on Seradj-ed-döulah’s defeat. The mutual bonds and obligations being exchanged, that Prince decamped from the neighbourhood of Calcutta, and returned to M8rsh8d-abad. There on revolving in his palace of Mansour-gunj upon the catastrophe he had met with, he was confounded with wonder at a reverse of fortune of which he never had so much as conceived an idea; and he was at a loss what party to take. He now remembered some matters that had passed, and some actions of his now recurred to his mind. He now commenced feeling remorses, and he became sensible that there was such a being as an avenging God. His Generals and friends now commenced to desert his Court; and Dost-mahmed-qhan, one of his bravest and most zealous Commanders, obtained leave to retire, in order to get cured of his wounds; so that he availed himself of that permission to go to Sarsaram, as a place of safety, where he might lodge his family and children. Mir-djaafer-qhan himself ceased to go to Court, and he lived retired in his own quarters. As that General, as well as Radja Dollub-ram were at the head of the army, and they seemed of late to have become a different sort of men from what they had been, Seradj-ed-döulah concluded that they must be at the head of the malcontents, and the very persons that blew the fire of dissension. Of course that they deserved an exemplary punishment; but he had not the courage necessary for such a vigorous action. He remembered moreover that he had such an enemy as the English at his elbow; and on the other hand, his innate pride and vanity, as well as his natural perverseness and ignorance, did not allow his making up matters with those two Commanders, by such a conduct as might recover their hearts. Nor did he feel in himself vigour enough to seize their persons by open force, and to exile them from the regions of life and existence; nor was there any one amongst those new Ministers, favourites, and Generals of his, (every one of whom was as incapable and as thoughtless as himself) that had courage enough to acknowledge his own unfitness for such important concerns, and to advise his master to alter his system of conduct; and instead of consuming himself with cares, anxieties, and bodily labour, to call together the ancient Ministers and Generals formed by Aaly-verdy-qhan, to gain their hearts by a condescending behaviour, and to entrust them with the management of his affairs. His new favourites ought in such a distressed state of his affairs, to have laid down their own pretensions, and exhorted him to call to his assistance all the abilities and talents of his kingdom. They ought to have said with a common voice: “My Lord, to complete our wishes, and to fill the measure of our ambition, is an easy matter. Whenever you are yourself powerful, and honoured, some beams of your own glory shall surely be reflected on our own persons; but now think only of putting at the head of your affairs those old Generals and Ministers that have already a character.” This was the language which they ought to have held, and which no one would hold. But his own thoughts were so uncertain as yet, and so fluctuating was his behaviour, that after having been for some time intent on schemes of reconciliation, he was at once so overcome by his anger and resentment, as to order cannon to be planted against Mir-djaafer-qhan’s house. Radja D8ll8b-ram was no less dissatisfied, and difficult to manage; he would not hear of submitting to Mohon-lal’s superiority. And on the other hand, Djaagat-seat, the principal citizen of the capital, whom he had often used with slight and derision, and whom he had mortally affronted, by sometimes threatening him with circumcision, was in his heart totally alienated and lost.
Just at this crisis the flames of war broke out between the French and the English: two nations that had disputes amongst themselves of five or six hundred years standing; and which after proceeding to bloodshed, wars, battles, and massacres, for a number of years, would lay down their arms by common agreement, and take breath on both sides, in order to come to blows again, and to fight with as much fury as ever. The French were everywhere beaten in Decan; and Admiral-dilir-djung-bahadyr\(119\) came down with his ships to attack Farash-danga, which is two or three cosses from H8gly, and close to Chichira, an Hollandish settlement and town. He was incited to this enterprise by M8sher-terno\(120\), who forgetting what he owed to his own nation, pointed out to him a particular passage, which the French had left open in the Bagrati, for their own ships to pass, in case of need; for they had spoiled the whole breadth of the river by sinking a number of vessels. The Admiral-dilir-djung, under such a guide, advanced up with his ships of war, and took by force the French fortress. The French were vanquished, and they lost likewise the factory they had at the Cassima-bazar. In this extremity, M8sher Lass (Monsieur Law), who was a Commander of character amongst them, assembled the few remains of his nation; and with these, and some cannon, and some musqueteers which he had disciplined, he marched to M8rsh8d-abad, where he took service with Seradj-ed-döulah. The English being informed of this, were provoked; and whether by the instigation of the discontented Grandees, now become their confederates, or of their own motion, they represented to him by the means of their agent, that it was proper and convenient that the enemies and friends of the English should be deemed the enemies and friends of Seradj-ed-döulah, in the same manner as his enemies and friends were reputed the enemies and friends of the Enghish; they insisted that it was obligatory on both sides, as being a special article in the late treaty. “Now, added they, as we have beaten the French, and driven them away; and that Prince has taken them under his protection, and he intends to keep them in his service; such a conduct, being contrary to agreement, may occasion a breach in the treaty, and give birth again to troubles and dissensions.” These representations of the English agent were supported by malcontents that wished Seradj-ed-döulah’s downfall. They contended, “that to fall out with the English, for such a parcel of runaways, was very improper; and that he had better dismiss those strangers.” Seradj-ed-döulah, upon those representations, sent for M8sher Lass, and had a long conference with him. “The latter observed that should that Prince choose to give his protection to the affairs of the French Company, for the sake of the French refugees, such a proceeding might be reputed an infraction of this treaty; but that to entertain a few fugitives amongst the many thousands of other nations in his service, could never be deemed a breach of the articles.” This answer pleased Seradj-ed-döulah, and he gave it to the English agents; but these, supported and instigated by his numerous enemies, repeated their former pretension, and made great instances. Those enemies of his were equally artful and numerous; and under the cloak of zeal and attachment, they were perpetually urging in his ears, “that to fall out with such foes as the English, for the sake of an handful of wretched fugitives, was not a prudent proceeding; but rather such as might be productive of evil and repentance.” Seradj-ed-döulah, overcome by these repeated instances, advised M8sher Lass to repair to Azim-abad; and he spoke much in order to bring him to his opinion. Lass, on his departure, told the Navvab, that “most of his servants, Ministers, and Generals, either were disaffected Answer of M8sher-Lass the French Commander, and his prediction. to his person, or had already entered into a correspondence with the English; and that it was out of disaffection to his person they were so desirous of seeing the French at a distance. That those same men after the departure of the French, would embroil him with the English, and thereby would find opportunities to advance their own affairs, and to ruin those of their master’s; but that so long as he, with his handful of French, would be in his service, no one would dare to lay his hands upon Seradj-ed-döulah, and none would serve him so well in a day of battle. That after giving him that piece of advice, he would leave him to his own choice in taking what resolution he might please.” This speech made an impression on Seradj-ed-döulah; but as he did not dare to keep him in his service, for fear of offending the English, he told him that at present it was fit that he should depart; and that if there should happen any thing new, he would send for him again. “Send for me again?” answered Lass. “Rest assured, my Lord Navvab,” added he, “that this is the last time we shall see each other. Remember my words. We shall never meet again; it is nearly impossible.” After saying these few words, he departed for Azim-abad; and this departure seemed to serve as a signal for the parties to exert themselves. For now the dissensions between Seradj-ed-döulah and his two principal Generals rose to so great a height, that these two Commanders confederated with the Djagat-seats, and the other disaffected Grandees; and all these joined together in the scheme of oversetting Seradj-ed-döulah, whose character of ferocity and thoughtlessness kept them in continual alarms, and whose fickleness of temper made them tremble. It was in those conjunctures that an ancient enemy of his appeared again upon the stage of the world. This was Bibi Gahassity-begum, a Princess that had a rooted aversion to him, and whose heart was ulcerated by his having turned her out of her property and home. She now leagued herself secretly with Mir-djaafer-qhan, and gave him much assistance, by making interest in his behalf with every one whom she thought to have conserved some attachment to her concerns. “To these she presented, by the means of trusty advocates, a long list of the wrongs she had endured. To these she sent secret messages, to claim at their hands all the rights which Aaly-verdy-qhan’s daughter, and Nevazish-mahmed-qhan’s consort, must have acquired over their gratitude. She recalled to their minds all the favours they had received from her family, recapitulated the violences she had suffered, and exhorted them to join Mir-djaafer-qhan and Radja D8ll8b-ram.” And as in the moment that preceded the capture of Moti-djill, she had contrived to secret some gold, by the means of some trusty old women and eunuchs, she now took care to distribute it adroitly; and she even sent some to Mir-djaafer-qhan. This General on his side distributed his money wherever he thought it would be effectual; and he exerted himself so well in taking in his pay every disbanded soldier, and every hungry adventurer he heard of, that he soon assembled secretly in his house and in his quarter a very respectable force. Affairs being now come to that point; and every one of the Grandees tending to one common centre in view, which was to remove Seradj-ed-döulah; every one pointed his efforts that way; every one, firmly persuaded that the concurrence of the English was a necessary piece to the completion of his wishes, was exhorting them to break with that Prince. Djagat-seat was one of the foremost of them, and he had also the best opportunities. By the means of his mercantile agent, Emin-chund, one of the principal bankers of Calcutta, he was perpetually exciting the English to a rupture. Radja D8l8b-ram likewise had his agent there on the same errand; and Mir-djaafer-qhan sent thither his friend and confidant, that same Mirza-emir-beg, whom we have already mentioned as a generous man, who had carried untouched to the English fugitives some ladies of theirs: an action by which he had ingratiated himself in their minds. By his means he represented to the English “the wrongs he had suffered, the injuries offered to all the Grandees, and the resolution they had unanimously taken to rid themselves of Seradj-ed-döulah.” His agent went so far as to shew the very paper, signed by all the malcontents, by which they promised to stand by him against Seradj-ed-döulah. He then added these words: “Do you, Gentlemen, but put yourselves in motion, and come to some skirmish with Seradj-ed-döulah; and we engage, after that, to do his business amongst ourselves effectually. By a small motion of yours, you shall put it in our power to rid ourselves and the world of the oppressions and violences of the tyrant.” After such a confidence, he promised to pay them three corors of rupees for their interference, and engaged his master’s faith for some other concessions which were stipulated, but of which I have no particular information. These conditions were sworn to, and bankers engaged themselves as sureties for the money. This promise was followed by a list of the injuries and oppressions that had been offered to Biby-gahassity, and to the others. These instigations could not but make their effect upon the English. This nation, which has not its equal in prowess, and courage, and strength of mind, but which is as covetous as any other; (and indeed where is the man, who in the pride of conscious power and victory, has not an avidity for conquests, especially if the means be ready, and already provided at his hand?) the English, I say, on being informed of the state of things at M8rsh8d-abad, held a great council, the result of which was “that the proposals and offers of Mir-djaafer-qhan and Radja D8l8b-ram ought to be accepted, and that preparations ought immediately to be made for declaring war.” But as it is not customary with this nation, nor indeed with any man of sense, to break with any one, without a sufficient subject, it is probable that in their negotiations with Seradj-ed-dönlah, they had found some grave subject that might warrant a rupture. Of this, indeed, I could get no information; but probably they found it in the dilatoriness and neglect of the payment of the sum of money stipulated for the plunder made in Calcutta; and to all appearance that Prince himself found it hard to part with such a sum as one coror of rupees, for a promise made only in a moment of necessity. Be it as it may, the resolution for war having been taken at Calcutta, Colonel Clive, better known under the title of Sabut-djung, prepared to march with the troops and necessaries which he had at hand. This intelligence struck Seradj-ed-döulah. Sensible now that he had no other resource but that of regaining the hearts of his enemies, he at once made his appearance at the wicket of dissimulation and at the gate of caresses; but he advanced nothing by that step. For, as says the Poet:
| “After having suffered your oppressions for a whole year, and seen you tear my liver out of my body, |
| Do you expect that I am to forget all those wrongs for a little fawning you have now set up?” |
The Prince at the same time sent part of his forces to Palassy, under the command of Radja D8l8b-ram, with orders to prepare an intrenched camp, and everything necessary for defence and war. That Commander repaired thither, and in appearance, seemed busy in executing the orders he had received; but in fact he was only intent upon his own business; for he not only entered into a private agreement with the English, but added some articles to their treaty with Mir-djaafer-qhan, whilst at the same time he was daily gaining to his party some officers amongst the troops he commanded, under promise of doing for them something according to their own wishes. The same management was likewise practised in town by Mir-djaafer-qhan, who now commenced to appear at Court, but always well accompanied. The defection became now so general, that it is credibly reported that by this time few men remained in their hearts attached to Seradj-ed-döulah; all the rest having been gained over by these two Commanders. The report being now spread that Colonel Clive had moved from Calcutta at the head of an army, this intelligence engaged that Prince to draw from his ears that cotton of sloth and neglect with which he had stuffed them. With visible reluctance of mind, and a heart big with grief and despondence, he quitted his palace of Mans8r-gundj, and marched with those troops in which he reposed a confidence, that is, those belonging to Mir-meden, and to Radja Mohon-lal, and a few others, with which he arrived at Palassy. On the opposite side, Colonel Clive, with the troops of his own nation, and some bodies of Talingas, (the whole of his army not amounting to more than two or three thousand men), took post in the grove of Palassy,\(121\) where he shewed himself in battle array. A. D. 1757. It was on a Thursday, the fifth of Shevval, in the year 1170; and there the fire of battle and slaughter, that had been hitherto kept alive under a heap of embers, now blazed out into flames. But as the nation of Hat-wearers have no equals in the art of firing their artillery and musquetry with both order and rapidity, there commenced such an incessant rain of balls and bullets, and such a hot endless firing, that the spectators themselves were amazed and confounded; and those in the battle had their hearing deafened by the continual thunder, and their eye-sight dimmed by the endless flashing of the execution. All this while Mir-djaafer-qhan, the author of all these evils and troubles, contented himself with standing at a distance with the troops under his command, exactly like one who had come only to see the engagement, although his sole aim was to effect Seradj-ed-döulah’s downfall. But this was not the case with Mir-meden, and a few others, who were in earnest, and wished to gain the victory; these were in despair on seeing that inaction. The cannon-balls meanwhile fell so thick amongst them, that this officer did not dare to come to a close engagement; but yet he advanced little by little in good order and with a good countenance, till at last he and Mohon-lal arrived near the grove of Palassy, from whence the English made so violent a fire. It was at about three o’clock in the afternoon. It is reported that the Colonel, at sight of this, severely reprimanded some agent, who was then near his person, and said, “that his master had promised and pledged himself, that the troops, as well as the Commanders, were totally alienated from Seradj-ed-döulah; and that as soon as some engagement should take place, they would do his business effectually.” As much as I can see, added the Colonel, the very reverse of all that is taking place. The agent answered, that “those that were now pressing upon him, were those corps that were attached to Seradj-ed-döulah; and that whenever these should be vanquished, the Colonel would not fail to see tokens of what he (the agent) had promised.” And in reality the day of retribution was now come; for Seradj-ed-döulah and his fortune had now become liable to the laws of retaliation. That valorous Mir-meden, who now behaved so well in the engagement, and who to his heroical valour joined sentiments of attachment and zeal, was overset by a cannon-ball, whilst he was advancing and encouraging his men. This ball, as if sent by an express to exact a tribute upon his existence, carried away one of his thighs, and in appearance left him for dead. He was already winging his flight into eternity, when they brought him in that condition to his Prince; to whom the dying warrior having had just time to say a few words concerning his zeal and the dispositions he had made for the engagement, soon surrendered his soul to his Maker. Such a spectacle struck Seradj-ed-döulah. He was troubled and confounded, and seemed to have lost his presence of mind. He sent for Mir-djaafer-qhan, and patiently waited till the other should be pleased to come. But that General having shewn a disinclination from such an interview, repeated messages and pressing solicitations became necessary to put him in motion. At last he came, accompanied by his son, Miren, alias Mir-mahmed-sadyc-qhan, by Qhadem-hassen-qhan, and by a numerous body of his friends and followers, well-armed. Seradj-ed-döulah spoke to him in the humblest strain, and at last descended to the lowest supplications; he even took his turbant from off his head, (at least this was the report) and placed it before the General; to whom he addressed these very words: I now repent of what I have done; and availing myself of those ties of consanguinity which subsist between us, as well as of those rights which my grandfather, Aaly-verdy-qhan, has doubtless acquired upon your gratitude, I look up to you, as to the only representative of that venerable personage; and hope therefore, that, forgetting my past trespasses, you shall henceforward behave as becomes a Séyd, a man united in blood to me, and a man of sentiments, who conserves a grateful remembrance of all the benefits he has received from my family. I recommend myself to you; take care of the conservation of my honour and life.\(122\) This affecting speech had no effect on Mir-djaafer-qhan, who finding that the occasion for which he had been looking out this long while, was now at hand, thought only of availing himself of it; so far was he from forgetting what indeed he ought to have forgotten. Treason having already taken possession of his heart, he coldly answered, that the day was now drawing to its end; and that there remained no time for an attack. Send a counter order to the troops that are advancing, said he; recall those engaged; and to-morrow, with the blessing of God, I will join all the troops together, and provide for the engagement. Seradj-ed-doulah observed, that they might be attacked by the enemy in the night. This also the General took upon himself to provide against, and he promised that the enemy would not form a night attack.
By this time Mohon-lal, who had advanced with Mir-meden, was closely engaged with the enemy; his cannon was served with effect;\(123\) and his infantry having availed themselves of some covers and other grounds, were pouring a quantity of bullets in the enemy’s ranks. It was at this moment he received the order of failing back, and of retreating. He answered: “That this was not a time to retreat; that the action was so far advanced, that whatever might happen, would happen now; and that should he turn his head, to march back to camp, his people would disperse, and perhaps abandon themselves to an open flight.” Seradj-ed-döulah, on this answer, turned towards Mir-djaafer-qhan, and the latter coldly answered: “That the advice he had proposed was the best in his power; and that as to the rest, His Highness was the master of taking his own resolutions.” Seradj-ed-döulah intimidated by his General’s coldness, and overcome by his own fears and apprehensions, renounced his own natural sense, and submitted to Mir-djaafer-qhan’s pleasure; he sent repeated orders, with pressing messages, to Mohon-lal; who at last obeyed, and retreated from the post to which he had advanced.
Verses:
| “When the times become dark, and unprosperous for a man, |
| He never fails to do precisely what he ought not to have done.” |
This retreat of Mohon-lal’s made a full impression on his troops. The sight of their General’s retreat damped their courage; 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:
| “Men in power, do not oppress those that have preceded you in it, |
| For the world is not likely to remain for ever under the same command. |
| Do not tear (take care) people’s feet from their place, |
| As it is uncertain whether your own feet shall ever remain where they are. |
| A number of hearts gained is of more use than a full treasury; |
| But better still an empty treasury than a throng of alienated hearts. |
| Do not push any one so rudely as that his feet should stagger and fail, |
| Lest some day it may be thy fate to fall at those very feet.— |
| Never think an enemy too inconsiderable; |
| For I have seen a large mountain grown up from a small stone. |
| Do’st not thou see that when pismires have joined together, |
| They can force groans from the most formidable Lions? |
| Is there any thing in the World so feeble as the silk threads, when asunder? |
| And yet when twisted together, nothing is so strong; they become equal |
| to a chain. |
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:
| “Be this my advice to thee, if thou wilt but hear me; |
| If thou hast planted thorns, thou canst not expect to reap jonquils. |
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.
| “See, and take warning, ye that have eyes, |
| It was in this manner the wind shifted, and the face of things changed. |
| O world, fickle and fragile! O world, incapable of stability!— |
| Do not set your heart, my friend, upon such a world; it is like a stranger, |
| Like a dancer, that goes every day from house to house.\(131\) What for to fall in love with a fair one, |
| Who shifts her husband every morning? |
| And indeed to a wise man the world is but like a beauty, |
| Who constantly roves from one to another. |
| Acquire and bring together all Caron’s wealth, |
| You shall carry no more with you, than what you have enjoyed, or bestowed.— |
| Do good to-day, since the field is yours, and you have the power of it; |
| Make haste; for the next year, the field will pass to another tenant.” |
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.
CONTENTS.
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:
| “Bring to my ears concerts of music; and you waiter, give that remnant of |
| wine.” |
| “Let us kill time as we can, and bid defiance to Heaven.” |
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:
| “How should a secret remain concealed, which is talked of in assemblies.” |
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.
| “He that sits at your elbow, ought to be even better than yourself; |
| He ought to be such as may contribute to the improvement of both your intellects and morals.” |
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!
| “Where the eagle is losing its feathers, |
| What can be expected from its starving young one?” |
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?
| "A blind man having by chance stumbled on an opportunity,— |
| “Made nothing of it himself, nor would let others put it to some profit.” |
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.
| “Did you not say, that he would fly out of joy? |
| He flew, indeed, but it was like a peacock that has got rid of its rope.” |
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:—
| “Turn your eyes from us, for we are afflicted. |
| We are sitting upon a consuming fire, and nearly reduced to ashes.” |
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 there was a breach in the wall, and that the same scene would be commenced again the next night; and as P8r-dil-qhan had been wounded with most of his people in succouring the breach, no troops could be prevailed upon now to go on that service, although the breach had been made up with mud; for so prevalent were every one’s fears, that they all declined marching thither. The discouragement being then so general, the city could not hold out another night, and would assuredly be taken; in which case Ram-naráin with his family and garrison would fall in the enemy’s power infallibly. Such were the discourses of that assembly, and such the face of things. In a moment I made sign to Doctor Fullerton, and I informed him that an English detachment was coming. An English detachment, said he with amazement; where and how? I explained my intelligence. He was transported with joy; and Ram-naráin hearing it, commenced to breathe freely; and he sent a messenger to ascertain that piece of news. The messenger returned, and confirmed my report. The Governor now got up, and seemed to have commenced to live anew. From Ram-naráin’s house I went with Doctor Fullerton to Mir-abdollah’s, and from thence to Mr. Amyatt’s, where I found Captain Knox, who was an acquaintance of mine; and there I learned that he had set out from Bardevan with five companies of Talingas, and one company of European English, which detachment having performed in thirteen days, a march of full nineteen stages, was overcome with fatigue; although that officer, to leave no excuse to the soldiers, used to march on foot himself the whole day, and to give an example of patience to all. I heard also, that the reason of their having come by the other side of the Ganga, was out of an apprehension, lest the enemy should advance a detachment to meet them, by which incident their purpose might have been wholly defeated, or at least, their march so much impeded, that meanwhile the Emperor might have rendered himself master of the city. Mr. Amyatt was busy in sending wine and other refreshments and necessaries to the detachment; and he advised the Commander to let his people take some rest that day. In the evening Captain Knox embarked with his detachment, and with colours flying and drums beating, he landed at the Western gate, from whence he marched with a military look, and a resolute countenance, through the markets and the high street, as far as the castle, to the great comfort of the citizens, who on beholding the English march through their city, gave up their apprehensions about an escalade, and about an assault, and said openly, that now that the English were within their walls, the enemy would not dare to come to attack again. As soon as night came on, Captain Knox with two other officers more and a guide, got out of the city, and having approached unperceived close to the enemy’s quarters, he viewed carefully the outside of the walls, and the enemy’s encampment, with the roads leading to it, as well as the situation of the ground, and then returned within, without having been discovered. The next day, at about noon-day, a time when Cam-car-qhan had just eaten his meal, and laid down his clothes to take his usual nap, the English were already in his camp; and whilst his men, accustomed to the Indian habit of taking their afternoon nap likewise, had retired to some shady place for that purpose, or were busy in preparing their victuals, or in some other avocation, the Captain made suddenly his appearance with a small number of men, and made a discharge of musquetry unexpectedly. On the first fire the troops in the intrenchment turned about, and fled in the utmost consternation, leaving Cam-car-qhan to shift for himself. This General, surrounded by the English forces, thought himself undone; he had all the pains in the world to make his escape; and it was without either turband, clothes, or slippers. The Captain having taken away some of the enemy’s colours, then flying on the entrenchment, with some other things that happened to be in his way, returned in triumph. After such an adventure, Cam-car-qhan had no stomach for tarrying any more in the suburbs of the city; he decamped immediately and pitched his tents in the plain, and at a distance from the houses, for fear of being surprised in the night time. In a few days more he found his place untenable; and quitting his post, he repaired to Gáya-manp8r, where he turned his views towards raising contributions for the Emperor, who having no other resource but that Zemindar, was obliged to give his consent to whatever he proposed. Meanwhile he had several times invited my forgiven father to come to his camp, and the latter had excused himself as often, under a variety of pretences; but in fact, because he rightly concluded that such a step of his would render him odious to the Government of Azim-abad. The Emperor took offence at this refusal; and Cam-car-qhan was aggravating the circumstances of it; but as he was a man of expedients, he proposed to bring him to camp within twenty-four hours, by only ordering the Marhatta Shy8-bahat to make some excursions on his estate and Djaghiri-lands. The Emperor approved his expedient, and laid his commands on the Marhatta officer accordingly; so that the whole estate was going now to be plundered and sacked, when my father thought proper to stay Shy8-bahat’s execution, by expressing his readiness to repair to the Imperial camp; and he forthwith prepared his equipage, But this intelligence no sooner came to the ears of Ram-naráin. than he attempted to put an end to all intercourse between the English and me, by giving an exaggerated account of this affair to Amyatt. He said, “that Gh8lam-hosséin-qhan by his intercourse with the English, was enabled to give his father information of every word and every transaction in the place. That his father, although a subject of this Government, and highly beholden to it for the favour of being reinstated in the possession of his Djaghir, was preparing to repair to the Imperial camp, and to add fuel to a fire that was already consuming the land. He added, that Gh8lam-hosséin-qhan must be enjoined to write to his father so effectually, as to oblige him to abandon such a mischievous design.” On this representation Mr. Amyatt desired me to comply with the request. “I answered, by taking God Almighty to witness, that since I had attached myself to the English, I had ceased all correspondence with my father, having never so much as wrote him a letter, or even sent him a message; that what Ram-naráin had been pleased to say, was true only in part, the rest being founded on mere misinformation; that it was notorious that my father, after having by a variety of artifices got rid of the Emperor’s service, was living peaceably upon his estate in the middle of his family and dependants; and now that he is threatened with ruin and devastation, pray, sir, what party would you have him take? At a time when Ram-naráin armed, as he is, with all the powers of Government, finds himself unable to cope with the Emperor; what can my father do, who lives in the flat country and in an open town, where his consort, his family, his honour are exposed to every incursion? Ram-naráin, apprehensive lest my father, by coming to live in town, and rendering his merit known to the English, should inspire them with the thoughts of putting him at the head of the Government, is afraid of giving him leave to reside in this city; and at the same time he pretends that he ought in an open plain to resist the Imperial will, and to withhold his submission; doubtless he must in his own defence submit to the Emperor’s commands. But if it be intended that he should not join the enemy, then let an order be sent him to come and reside in the city; else, to send him injunctions not to join the Emperor, and not to submit to him, is nugatory; nor is such an order of a nature to admit execution.” This speech made some effect; and Mr. Amyatt, who was a man of sense, and of a liberal disposition, having attentively heard what I had said, acknowledged the rationality of it, but added, that although he was convinced of it, he saw no inconvenience in sending the letter requested. To oblige therefore that gentleman, I took pen and wrote just such a letter as Ram-naráin had desired, and I put it in his hands; but to repel still more that Governor’s imputation, I could not help observing, “that Ram-naráin’s earnestness on that subject seemed calculated to render my person odious, together with that of my father’s; that such letters and such requests would never prevent my father from taking party with the Emperor; and if it was really intended to prevent that step, the best method would be to require him to come to town with his family; otherwise he would unavoidably betake himself to the only expedient that could secure his life, honour, family and property; and in fact, the truth is, that I had not the least correspondence with either my father or my brother, or any one in the Imperial camp; and that I carried the precaution so far on that subject, that whenever chance would have it so, that any one in the service of the enemy should come to see me, I constantly declined the interview; and God is my witness, that treason, artifice, and insincerity have never been in my character, nor are in it to this day. I thank His Divine Goodness, that he made me live everywhere with honour and dignity; and that I have had opportunities to see with my own eyes, that traitors and artificious people, so far from prospering in this world, soon or late, with all their cunning and shrewdness, fall into misfortunes, and are rewarded according to their deserts.”
| “The plain Ahmed I was, and the plain Ahmed am I still.” |
After this short digression, which the historian’s character seemed to require, and which the candid reader’s benignity shall doubtless forgive, let us revert to my father. That nobleman, obliged to quit his residence of Hosséin-abad, took his second son, Naki-aaly-qhan, with him, and repaired to the Imperial camp, where he was received with the utmost regard and distinction. The Emperor presented him with a qhyalaat of four pieces, composed of a turband that had been rolled on his Imperial head, and of a suit of clothes which he had put on. He became his Prime Minister of State, his Deputy in the signet office, and the centre of all business civil and military, as well as the person to whom all the Grandees paid their court. Cam-car-qhan himself thought proper to pay him his respects; and M8sher Lass came to visit him. The Emperor had fixed his residence in the neighbourhood of Ticary, which is surrounded by the lands belonging to the two Radjas, Sunder-sing, and Bohor-sing; there he spent his time in anxious expectation of receiving from day to day some letter of the Abdali-king, with his injunctions to the Princes and Grandees of Hindostan, to recognise his authority and his title.\(185\) Instead of that, news came that Qhadum-hassen-qhan, whose reconciliation with Miren had been but superficial, and who continued to harbour heavy suspicions against him, was marching to join the Imperial army, and to rid himself for ever of Miren and his father. But first of all he took care before his departure from P8rania, to plunder at pleasure his own country, and to squeeze money from whomsoever he could reach, whether high or low; then only did he set out on his march. He carried with him a full treasury, a numerous artillery, and an army composed of picked men and choice troops, which he had been preparing this long while. His army amounted to five or six thousand horse, and to ten thousand foot; his artillery was of forty pieces of cannon, large and small. With such a force he resolved to join the Emperor; and taking his route along the opposite or northern shore of the Ganga, he arrived at Hadjip8r, which is over against Azim-abad, but on the other side of the river. Had this arrival happened some time before, when Azim-abad besieged by the Emperor, could hardly muster any force at all, whether Hindostany or English, there is no doubt but that he would have possessed himself of that city; would have thereby raised his reputation to the skies, and would have added a vast deal of power and lustre to the Imperial name. But every event having its moment assigned from above, how could the matter happen otherwise or how could such a disposition from above suffer any alteration or any transposition whatever? So important an intelligence could not but affect Ram-naráin deeply; he went to Mr. Amyatt, spoke much of the enfeebled state of his garrison, and of the smallness of its numbers, and seemed much depressed. Mr. Amyatt answered, “that at present there was little to fear from the Emperor, who was occupied in the pleasures of hunting and seeing dances, as well as busy in raising contributions; that until he might come again, he, as Governor of the place, ought to assemble the few troops he had, in order to keep one part on duty upon the walls, and make over the rest to Captain Knox, who had undertaken to fight Qhadum-hassen-qhan.” These words thunderstruck the Radja; he could not help expressing his amazement that the Captain with a few hundred men, should think of attacking a whole army of horse and foot; but finding that the scheme was fixedly determined upon, he went away to provide the intended re-inforcement; and he commanded Sheh-hamid-eddin, and Sahab-dad-qhan, and some other of his Commanders, to cross over with their corps without delay, and to join Captain Knox. Sahab-dad-qhan sent his bazar or sutlers, as well as his tents, not on the other side of the river as he was commanded, but in an island in the middle of the stream, whereon he displayed his standard. But Sheh-hamid-eddin having his house and family at Hadjip8r, made no difficulty to cross over, although he only made a show of his troops. The next morning Captain Knox prepared himself for crossing the river; he had three or four companies of Talingas, one company of European English, two field-pieces, and plenty of ammunition. But as Ráo-shitab-ráy seemed attached to the English, and a man of resolution; and he had in his pay about two hundred horse and foot that had proved very active in the defence of the place, Mr. Amyatt and the Captain proposed to him to be of the party. Shitab-ráy, who wished no better, accepted the offer; and without further delay or preparative, he joined Captain Knox, and crossed over with him. As to the auxiliaries which Ram-naráin had provided, these men, accustomed to that method that now disgraces all Hindostanies, who take up full ten days to clear their accounts with the treasury, and take up full ten days more to be paid and to make their preparatives; these men, I say, managed so slowly, that not a man of them did join Captain Knox. Nay, Sheh-hamid-eddin, who to save appearances, had in fact crossed over, and advanced two or three cosses, was in reality so far from preparing for a battle, that he went by night to Ráo-shitab-ráy, and spoke to him in these words: “Sir, are you mad, to come hither? The Radja does not love you, probably, and wishes to rid himself of your person; and as to me, on selecting me, for crossing over, he had his views unquestionably. He wants to inherit one full lack of rupees which are due to me, as well as to my people, on our arrears; these are his motives for sending you and me over to this warfare with our handful of men. It is with us that he wants to fight at a distance such a man as Qhadum-hassen-qhan, who has seven thousand picked horse, ten thousand musqueteers exercised, and forty pieces of cannon. Will Captain Knox with his five hundred men, and his two pieces of cannon, fight himself against all that force? Were those five hundred men to be of stone, still they will be infallibly knocked down. I advice you, therefore, not to continue with them; imagine some excuse, and get yourself out of harm’s way. As for my part, I am resolved to have nothing to do with this affair.”
Sheh-hamid-eddin, after some other words to the same purport, went away. As to Sahab-dad-qhan, he was yet in town, when Qhadum-hassen-qhan was already encamped at about six or seven cosses from Captain Knox. This officer, finding the enemy so near, came in the dark to Ráo-shitab-ráy’s quarters, and proposed to surprise them in the dead of the night. Our people, said he, are in very small numbers; and I am afraid lest, on seeing the multitudes of the enemy, they take fright and lose their senses. I propose therefore to fall on the enemy by night; for I reckon either that we shall defeat and disperse them, or that we shall destroy his ammunition and spike his artillery, as well as seize his money. In either case, we shall disable the enemy effectually from doing any thing. Shitab-ráy answered, “that he had no will of his own; that he agreed in his scheme, and would follow him whithersoever he would lead the way, being entirely at his command.” Then, replied “the Captain, take your meal, go to sleep, and let your people do the same, as we must be up by the middle of the night. Shitab-ráy did as he was bid; and he was up at midnight, when the Captain sent for him. This officer left one company of Talingas for the guard of his tents, and marched with the rest, under the guidance of an harcara, or guide, who the preceding day had viewed the road, up to the enemy’s camp, and had come back again. By a particular ill luck, the night proved so dark that the man lost his way; and they had much marched already, when the Captain approaching one of Shitab-ráy’s men, who had his match-lock lighted, he found at his watch that it would be day-light within two hours; he observed “that this was the time when they ought to have been within the enemy’s camp; that it was now too tate to fall upon them by surprise, and that there remained no better party than to return to camp.” Shitab-ráy assented, and they returned to camp. But hardly had they laid down their arms and washed their hands and faces, when Qhadum-hassen-qhan’s vanguard made its appearance at day-break. The Captain being the first man up, got his men under arms, and sent word to Shitab-ráy to do the same; the latter armed himself, got his men ready, and joined the English, resolved to share their fate. As soon as Qhadum-hassen-qhan saw the English out of their camp, he sent a body of troops, who plundered it thoroughly, and killed or wounded some men that had been left in it, as well as some others that were coming to join the Captain from the city. Many more had time to fly back; and some frightened chairmen with their palekies on their shoulders, finding those boats at the water side, that had been provided for an emergency, got into them and crossed over to the city. Meanwhile Qhadum-hassen-qhan’s troops having divided into several bodies, attacked the English on all sides. The latter stood their ground undauntedly, firing their cannon with steadiness and precision, their officers standing over them, and directing their fire, with the utmost coolness and intrepidity. Shitab-ráy was doing the same on his side; he was animating his men to do their duty; and whenever the enemy attempted to approach too near, they were constantly repulsed by Shitab-ráy’s advancing on them, or by being occasionally assisted by some cannon-shot directed from the English line, against those that pressed upon him. The engagement was maintained on both sides in this manner, as late as twelve o’clock; at this time Mir-afzyl, General to the enemy’s troops, received orders from his master, to form the whole army in two bodies, and to attack at once on both sides. But as they had already observed, that in this manner they had lost an infinity of horses by the English cannon-balls, they all alighted and marched up on foot; and now the cannon ceasing on both sides, the engagement went on with musket firing only.
I was at that time standing on the wharf of the English factory, and looking at the runaways that were crossing the water; Mr. Amyatt was standing close to me, looking with his glass; and on distinguishing an English paleky, he concluded that it must be some wounded officer which they were bringing back. At last the boats arrived, and the men landed; but as they had fled in a panic, every-one of them reported that the English were undone, and that Qhadum-hassen-qhan had gained the victory. As they were unanimous in their report, fear and anxiety seized not only Ram-naráin, and the whole of the inhabitants of the city, but the English of the factory themselves, who listened to every explosion in great apprehensions of what might happen. I was with Mir-abdollah, my friend, and some others, close to Mr. Amyatt, and endeavouring to encourage that gentleman and the rest by some observations of mine. “I took notice that these men gave no detail at all; that they seemed overcome with fear; that the smoke on the other side of the water was kept up; and the report of cannon and musquetry continued. How then could those runaways know that the English were defeated? If they have been defeated, who are those then that go on actually with the engagement?” After saying these few words, I went to Mir-abdollah’s house, and standing on the terrace with a number of others, I was listening and looking. At this very moment a great explosion rent the air. On hearing it, I exclaimed out “that now, if after this we should hear the report of the cannon, then the English were victorious; else, it would prove the very reverse.” Another explosion followed; and then for some moments all was silent again; and people became anxious and fearful as the cannon was heard no more. But this was not my opinion; and I declared that Qhadum-hassen-qhan was vanquished, and retreating. No one amongst the by-standers would believe me, so confounded were they with astonishment and fear. A moment after, some guns were heard again, and then they ceased entirely; but instead of that, we perceived a sudden flame that flashed out very high, and then subsided totally; and this flashing was successively observed several times. By this time the day was far spent, and the evening approaching, when a note came to Mr. Amyatt from Captain Knox, which mentioned that the enemy was defeated and flying. This intelligence was sent to all the principal men of the city, and occasioned a deal of joy. On this intelligence I went to the factory to compliment the gentlemen, when on the dusk of the evening Captain Knox himself crossed over, and came with Shitab-ráy in his company; they were both covered with dust and sweat; the Captain then gave some detail of the battle, and paid the greatest encomiums to Shitab-ráy’s-zeal?? activity and valour. He exclaimed several times, This is a real Navvab; I never saw such a Navvab in my life. A few moments after Ram-naráin was introduced; he had in his company both Mustapha-c8li-qhan, and Mahmed-afac, the cutval of the city, with some other men of consequence, who on hearing of the arrival of those two men, had flocked to the factory; and on seeing them alone, could not help believing that they had escaped from the slaughter; so far were they from conceiving that a few hundreds of men could defeat a whole army. Nor could they be brought to believe (impressed as they were with Hindian notions) that a Commander would quit his army so unconcernedly, unless he had indeed run away from it; nor would they listen to what Mr. Amyatt repeatedly said to convince Ram-naráin and the others of their mistake. Mr. Amyatt went on recounting, that as “Mir-afzyl had been defeated with his troops, it could not be said that Qhadum-hassen-qhan had gained the victory, since he had no other troops than those led on by Mir-afzyl. That one might reckon on his having been certainly defeated, as his troops were dispersed, and himself retreating and retiring far off, to be out of the reach of a surprise. He added, that the Captain finding no enemy in the field of battle, or in their camp, had pursued for a whole cosse; that he had brought away, all the enemy’s cannon and baggage, as well as vast a number of his wounded, which last he had taken care of; and that he had set on fire all the powder and amunition which had fallen in his hands; so that the blaze which had been perceived arose from that execution. That the Captain finding the enemy gone far off, had left the command of his troops to his officers, and returned to the factory to take some rest; and as Shitab-ráy had now extremely endeared himself to the English, he had brought him over for the same purpose.” Ram-naráin and the others having their incredulity a little affected by such a circumstantial detail, returned home somewhat easier than they had come. In the morning the same account came from several places, and ceased to be doubtful. Qhadum-hassen-qhan had fled towards Betiah; and the English and Shitab-ráy’s troops having tarried a few days more, crossed over and came back to town. It is from that time that we must date the high character, for bravery and abilities, to which Shitab-ráy rose amongst the English. He from that moment won the hearts of the whole nation; and all to a man became convinced of the sincerity of his zeal and attachment; and really he deserved that confidence, having afforded ample matter for it. Nor were the dignities and the station, to which he was raised afterwards, owing to any thing else but to the gratitude of the English, and to their talent for singling out and selecting men of parts.
A few days after this victory, intelligence came that Miren with the forces of Bengal, commanded by Colonel Clive, now styled Séif-djung,\(186\) was hastening to Azim-abad by continual marches. The Court of M8rsh8d-abad informed, that Qhadum-hassen-qhan was going thither with a great force by the northern side of the water, whilst the Emperor was master of the southern shore, entertained the more apprehensions on that subject, as the Navvab knew how small a force was that which Ram-naráin could muster, and how small would prove the resistance which he could afford to make against two such powerful enemies. It was therefore resolved that Miren, who was his father’s General, should march to Ram-naráin’s assistance. Letters came at the same time from Ram-naráin, which complained of the smallness of his force; and they were supported by Mr. Amyatt, who on his side took care to represent that he needed an immediate assistance. Colonel Clive and Miren arrive. These representations made such an impression at M8rsh8d-abad, that Miren set out with a numerous army, and numerous artillery. He had with him Colonel Clive and his English, and they arrived near Azim-abad at the end of the dry season; but did not enter the city, as Qhadum-hassen-qhan was encamped on the other side of the Ganga. They crossed therefore that river in pursuit of the enemy. It was at the beginning of the month of Zilcaad, of the year 1173 of the Hegira. The Governor of P8rania, who had been defeated by Captain Knox’s small force, did not think himself a match for the joint efforts of the army of Bengal, and the English of the Colonel’s; yet he continued to express himself in a very high flown style; but it was only out of policy, and in reality, he was impressed with black fears, and wished only for an opportunity to make his escape to some place of safety. Nor was such a measure easy. The river Gandec, which comes from the mountains of the north to join the Ganga at some distance west of Hadjip8r, was full on his passage; nor could such a river be crossed over by so numerous an army, and so immense a baggage, as his, without a large number of boats; and on the other hand, Miren having marched several days consecutively, was now over against him. On this intelligence, Qhadum-hassen-qhan dismissed his baggage in the latter part of the night, and with an army thus disincumbered, he marched so expeditiously, that in the morning he could hardly be discovered from the vanguard of Miren’s army, being already at so great a distance. Miren, who took those troops to be the Shah-zada’s army, of which he was afraid, as he had received two wounds from them, declined the combat; and he also sent word to the English to caution them against being too eager in pursuing the enemy. A few shot only, with some musket-balls, were exchanged from a distance; and whilst matters were yet uncertain, Qhadum-hassen-qhan, who had got near the woody country which he had been seeking, found means to effect his escape before the mistake could be corrected. Miren pursued without seeing an enemy; and after advancing some cosses, even beyond him, he found himself on the banks of a river, without knowing whither he was going, or where he was actually. But now his last day was come, and the moment of his death was at hand. Most of Qhadum-hassen-qhan’s men had lost their way; both because they were in a forest,\(187\) and because they were confounded by having the enemy at their heels. Dispersed in the middle of the woods, it became impossible for them to reach the rendezvous. It is even reported that Qhadum-hassen-qhan, for want of accommodations, had passed the whole night upon his elephant, as did most of his men upon their horses; and that he had undergone every hardship imaginable during the whole night. At day-break, his people could not discover the morning star, and they concluded that it must be hidden by the chain of mountains close to which they supposed themselves to be actually. But now their case was deplorable; they had a river in front, the enemy in the rear, and were at a loss what would become of them. The next morning, luckily for them, Miren’s last hour was now come; that hour which the Divine Providence had set apart for that tyrant’s chastisement, and for a day of retribution. For now the rainy season had set in with its usual fury, and at the beginning of the night there fell such a violent storm of rain, as obscured the world from Miren and his flatterers, and turned the luminous days of his life and prosperity into utter darkness and everlasting obscurity. It was now ten o’clock at night; but the rain continuing with unremitting violence, he had already dismissed two or three of his favourites, such as Séyd-mahmed-qhan and Himmet-qhan, two men who were his intimates and always with him. Half an hour after, Miren observing that the storm and rain increased in violence, quitted the spacious tent in which he then was, and went into one smaller and safer; one of those called Dilir-qhani-palls or tents, which are much lower and much closer to the ground, and likewise made fast by a greater number of iron pins. As he intended to pass the night there, one of his two or three favourite women which always followed him wherever he went, presented herself at the foot of his bed, together with a story-teller and another servant, whose office was to chuppy his limbs,\(188\) as it is termed in India. But as that woman’s last hour was not yet arrived, she was dismissed, and the servant entering immediately, fell a-handling his feet and legs, whilst the story-teller commenced his narrative to lull him asleep. God knows whether Miren really fell asleep, or whether he only waited for the Angel Miren killed by the lightning. of death with his eyes open. This much is certain that, at that very moment, a threatening thunder rent the air with a dreadful crash; and the lightning of revenge and retribution, rushing down from the clouds upon his guilty head, deprived him of a life which he so little deserved. He was found dead, just as he was upon his bed, without any motion at all having preceded his dissolution. Thus did he fall a sacriffce to the Divine vengeance. The flame that had burned that odious man, communicated itself to the servant and to the story-teller, and burned to ashes the rising plants of the existence of those two persons.
| “Beware of a bad man’s company, beware; |
| Preserve us from that, O! God, as from the fire of hell.” |
The rain and storm having ceased after some time, the servants that watched without, and whose turn it was to relieve the two others that were on duty, came into the tent, and found Miren with those two unfortunate youths, plunged in the endless sleep of annihilation; and although such a sight did much surprise and frighten them, they recollected their minds enough to awaken some officers and sone other persons, without tumult and without noise. These getting silently into the tent, examined the body, and found that it had no fewer than five or six holes on the head, with six or seven streaks on the belly and back; and these last looked like so many strokes inflicted by an angry whip. On the sabre,\(189\) which was close to his pillow, they discovered two or three holes, where the metal seemed to have run; but the wood of his bed towards his head was entirely rotten. This strange event having been reported to His Highness the learned and excellent Sheh-mahmed-aaly-hazin (whom God may place amongst the highest of his elect!) that holy man, who knew Miren’s character, turned to the by-standers and said, See how the lightning from above has, by dint of search, found out its man, in the recess of that small tent.
CONTENTS.
Detestable character of Miren, that worthy son of Mir-djaafer’s, who keeps a list ready of three hundred persons, which he intended to murder—The two Princesses, prisoners at Dacca, condemned to death, submit to their fate with an heroical resignation—Colonel Clive, for reasons of his own, quits India —Hollwell, Governor at Calcutta—Vansittart, Governor of Calcutta—The Shah-zada puts the whole of the province of Bahar under contribution—Amyatt forms a strong party against Vansittart in the council—Vansittart, who intends only to give a Deputy to the Navvab in the person of Mir-cassem, his son-in-law, is forced to make him absolute—Wise administration of Mir-cassem-qhan’s; he disciplines his troops after the European manner—Gurghin-qhan, an Armenian, his principal Minister and General—The Radja of Birbhoom revolts—His army routed by a handful of English—Major Carnac defeats the Shah-zada totally, and takes M8sher Lass prisoner—Revolution at Delhi —The victorious Abdaly-monarch strongly recommends submission to theShah-zada, now Shah-aalem—The latter is visited and recognised by the English—Mir-cassem arrives with an army at Azim-abad; and under the influence of the English, renders homage to the Emperor—Amyatt would have no objections to Mir-cassem, were not the latter supported by Vansittart—Ram-naráin, Viceroy of Azim-abad, brought under Mir-cassem’s controul—Immense sums amassed by the latter—He provides himself with able Generals—He receives the author’s father with the utmost respect—Obliged to suspect every one, he interrupts all social intercourse—Great abilities of Mir-cassem—A conspiracy discovered and punished—Singular story and execution —Governor Vansittart, to put an end to the dissensions between the English and Mir-cassem, makes a visit to the latter at Mongher—Gurghin-qhan’s expedition in Nepal miscarries— Serious disputes between the English and Mir-cassem— Unconscionable principles and conduct of the party against Vansittart—Mir-cassem, floating between submission and war, is determined to the latter by Gurghin-qhan’s preponderance— The Djagat-seats, two potent brothers, seized at M8rsh8d-abad, and carried to Mongher—Amyatt sent in embassy to Mir-cassem, spoils every thing by his haughtiness—The conferences broke—Aimatt returns towards Calcutta.
WE have heretofore observed that Miren had made himself easy by the murder of Qhadja-haddy-qhan and of Mir-cazem-qhan, just as his father had on his side eased his mind by murdering Sadacat-mahmed-qhan, and Sheh-abd8l-vehab-qhan, whom he had blown at one of his guns. This expeditious way of dispelling their suspicions, had taken entire possession of their hearts, and especially of the son’s, who now commenced murdering promiscuously men and women, just as one name occurred to him sooner than another. Matters went so far, that he murdered some women of his own seraglio,\(190\) having cut off their heads with his own hand and sabre; he even used to say, “That the adage after suspicion, clearness, meant nothing else, but that any suspected person, by being dispatched directly, cleared all suspicions at once; and he insisted that any other acceptation of that adage was absurd, and afforded no sense.” In consequence of this new-fangled system of his, he repeatedly wrote to Djessaret-qhan, Governor of Djehanghir-nagur-dacca, a nobleman highly respected in that province, to put to death those two unfortunate, defenceless, aged women, in whose house his whole family, as well as himself, had found not only bread, but the highest preferment; those meritorious women, who had been of late highly instrumental in raising him to the summit of power. Those women were the two eldest daughters of Aaly-verdy-qhan, (Gahasity-begum and Amnah-begum.) Even against these unfortunate beings, now exiled, forgotten, and reduced to poverty and distress; even against these he conceived suspicions, and he wrote accordingly in strong terms to Djessaret-qhan. This generous man, who himself owed his bread and preferment to those women and to their husbands, declined the odious task, and he wrote word, “That he requested a successor might be sent him, in the government of the province, as he wished to be excused from executing such orders.” Upon this request Miren, on the point of setting out for his last expedition against Qhadum-hassen-qhan, sent one of his friends with instructions to put those unfortunate women in a boat, under colour of bringing them to M8rsh8d-abad, and when out of town, to sink the boat in some lonely place; he also wrote to Djessaret-qhan to deliver those women to such a one, who had orders to bring them to M8rsh8d-abad. After signing these two orders, he set out for Azim-abad; and his friend repairing to Djehanghir-nugur, or rather taking the right road to hell, carried away those two unfortunate, friendless sisters; and under pretence of bringing them to M8rsh8d-abad, he put them into a boat and sheered off with his prize. Being arrived at a lonely place fit for his purpose, he bid them purify themselves,\(191\) and put on clean clothes;—some say he informed them of his orders, Gahasity-begum, who was the eldest, took fright and shed tears; but the youngest, who was Amnah-begum, turning towards her sister, endeavoured to console and pacify her. Why such fears, my sister and why to weep? said she; we were destined to die one day; let that day be this.—Here she paused, and taking a calmer tone of voice, she added: Sister, as we have been great sinners ourselves, we ought to thank God, that we are offered this method of expiation; and that we are not going without having placed our own load on Miren’s shoulders. After these few words, they both purified themselves, and putting on clean clothes, for want of winding sheets, they rubbed on their foreheads and on their bodies some of the holy\(192\) earth, raised from the tomb of the Prince of Martyrs; and after asking pardon for their sins, they bid the man execute his orders. The man seeming to hesitate, they both raised their hands, and the youngest exclaimed, O! God Almighty, we are both sinners, Heroical speech of the Princesses, prisoners at Dacca, on their being ordered to die. and culprits; but we have committed no sin against Miren. On the contrary, he owes to us every thing in the world; nor have we seen any better return from him, than this unjust order for putting us to death. We hope therefore,\(193\) that after our death, Thou sendest Thine lightning\(194\) to crush his guilty head, and to exact from him a full revenge on our own account and that of our children. After these few words, they pronounced their profession of faith in the usual posture,\(195\) with the addition conform to their particular belief; and having again kissed the holy bit of earth, they joined hands together, and jumped together in the boundless ocean of Divine mercy. It is reported that the lightning fell on Miren, (at two hundred leagues from thence), that very night. Some say that this event happened only a month after; but very accurate and very creditable persons affirm, that those unfortunate women suffered the last day of Shevval, or the first of Zilcaad, in the year 1173 of the Hegira; A. D. 1760-61. and that the lightning fell on Miren the ninth of the same month. Almighty God, to Thee belongs all revenge.\(196\) It is likewise reported by people of credit, and even by Miren’s intimate friends, that he, in this his last voyage, carried about him a small pocket-book, in which were inscribed no less than two or three hundred names; and he used to say, that after having beaten and chased both the Shah-zada and Qhadum-hassen-qhan, he would return to M8rsh8d-abad, and put to death every one of these three hundred persons he suspected; after which, with a mind eased of its burden, he would think of enjoying the comforts of life in the society of his friends. But God Almighty, who is the Lord and disposer of mankind, did not permit that his bloody purpose should be brought to maturity. Let the reader conclude from this catastrophe, that when the Almighty Artist of the creation sees His creatures addicted to crimes and sinning, He sends some tyrant of a ruler amongst them, who never fails to inflict the intended chastisement. But it does not follow from thence, that He suffers the tyrant to lord it for ever over his creatures; for tyranny cannot have any solid foundation, nor is it everlasting; and in this manner is verified that striking sentence revealed in the Holy Writ to the Prince of Messengers: Duration and permanency are sometimes allowed to infidelity, but never to oppression and tyranny. But if even after having exercised such acts of tyranny, the oppressors repent of their crimes, and revert to a life of innocence, and a righteous mode of governing, then it becomes possible that the Divine justice should suffer them to live, and may forbear extirpating their power by the root; otherwise, God makes the oppressor over to some other oppressor, and the tyrant to some greater tyrant, whose mission is to pull the other by the root; for everything is possible to God, says the Holy Writ; nor is any thing out of the reach of its power.—But let us revert to our narrative of Miren’s death.
The next morning, at day-break, a man of credit went and informed the Colonel of that tremendous event that had happened the eve; for this General was the supreme Commander of the auxiliary troops, whether English or Hindostanies, and the main prop of the whole army, of which in fact he was the head and supreme mover. He immediately adopted the opinion that this death ought to be kept secret; and he ordered the entrails and other parts to be taken out of the body, and buried; but the body itself to be carried about, as if Miren had been only sick. The next day he beat the General, and marched off, the body being carried, stretched on the häodah of an elephant, the feet hanging outwards, as those of a sick man; but that very moment, it became public that it was only a dead body stretched on an elephant; and every one on recollecting how Seradj-ed-döulah’s body had been brought into the city, did not fail to attribute this appearance to a full retribution on Miren’s inhumanity.
The Colonel, become by this death the sole Commander of both armies, advanced close to the fort of Betiah, where he tarried a little. On the persuasion of Miren’s Ministers, and of Ram-naráin’s agents, he sent to the Zemindar of that country a message mixed with threats, exhorting him to settle his accounts immediately. The man, intimidated by the fame of the English army, and by the Colonel’s presence, did as he was ordered; and that affair being put to an end, the two armies, now under the sole command of the Colonel, decamped from the plain of Betiah. Meanwhile Miren’s body having been put into a coffin, was carried rapidly upon chairmen’s shoulders, to the Ganga, where it was put in a boat, and hurried down the river, as far as Radje-mahal; but the abominable stench that exhaled from it, obliged the messengers to land it immediately; and it was buried in a spot which now goes by the name of his monument.
| “Take warning, ye that have eyes and ears.” |
As to the army, it took the road of Azim-abad, where it made a long stay; and it was there that Ram-naráin’s troops, now in the Bengal army, returned to their owner. The command of the rest of Miren’s troops devolved on Radj-b8ll8b, a Bengali, who had been Divan to Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, and was now Divan to Miren himself.
Whether this death made any alteration in Colonel Clive’s notions, we cannot affirm; but this much is certain, that this renowned Commander, who so long as he remained in India, had been always acknowledged as supreme Commander of the army, as well as Chief of the settlement of Calcutta, now took suddenly the resolution of returning home. But as he thought that the affairs of the English, hitherto confined to factory business, had become much more important now by stretching their influence all over the three provinces of Bengal, Bahar, O8ressa; and he conceived that they required the management of quite another man than Mr. Aymatt, whom he did not think equal to an office Colonel Clive, for reasons of his own, quits India. of so much consequence, he determined to send for Mr. Henry Vansittart, Shem-sed-döulah\(197\) Chief of Mendradj.\(198\) The other Councellors of Calcutta, on seeing his determination, assented to his choice; and it was settled, that for the present, and after the Colonel’s departure, Mr. Holwell should command at Calcutta, but only until Mr. Vansittart might arrive; to whom the supreme command, with the power of binding and loosing, in the whole circle of affairs of state, was to devolve. As such a disposition was contrary to the established custom of the service, and to the respected rights of seniority, and Mr. Amyatt was reputed worthy of that high office, which it was his turn to enjoy, he no sooner heard at Azim-abad of the dispositions that had been acquiesced to in Calcutta, than he strongly objected to them by letters. Not satisfied with that, he delivered his office of Azim-abad to his second, and went to Calcutta himself to make vigorous objections to Mr. Holwell’s sitting in the chair. But as the Colonel was already gone some days ago, and his dispositions had already taken place, it is probable that his representation answered no purpose; possibly also some mismanagement had been laid to Mr. Amyatt’s charge, since the Colonel’s dispositions were submitted to so easily. Be it as it may, the intelligence of Miren’s death had already occasioned as great alterations in M8rsh8d-abad, where Mir-djaafer-qhan, who at no time had been in his right senses, now lost the little reason that remained to him; so that the affairs of the army, as well as of Government being entirely abandoned to chance, fell into a confusion not to be described. But he had a son-in-law.
For his daughter had been married to a nobleman named Mir-cassem-qhan, son to Séyd-arizy-qhan, and grandson to Imtiaz-qhan, the poet, which latter was a Persian of distinction, who had enjoyed the office of Imperial Divan in the province of Azim-abad; this Mir-cassem-qhan was therefore nearly allied to the old Navvab. But there subsisted no cordiality between him and his son-in-law, and they lived upon ill terms together. Nor was Miren wanting in doing every thing in his power to augment the disunion and mutual discontent; but independently of that, Mir-djaafer-qhan did not like his son-in-law at all. Nevertheless, after the loss he had just suffered, it became expedient to shew some more regard to so near a relation; and he gave him the Government of P8rania, over and above that of Rangp8r, which he enjoyed already; and as he had a particular point to carry at Calcutta, he thought no man so proper to be sent upon that errand, as Mir-cassem-qhan was in experience and in the art of managing with men, greatly superior to any one in the Navvab’s family, and indeed to any one of his contemporaries. No wonder then, if the son-in-law in that short voyage, found means to ingratiate himself so far with the members of the council, that they adjudged him to be fitter for government and command than either the Navvab, or his late son. On the other hand, Mir-cassem had performed so well the business for which he had been dispatched, that on his return home he seemed to have acquired some of the old man’s good will; and as the latter had no children, but such as were under age, and of course, utterly unable to manage their father’s concerns, the son-in-law of course became the centre of all business, and the person that served to dispatch the public service, or to appease the turbulence of the military, a sort of men at all times ill paid, but whose arrears had now fallen back considerably on acconnt of Miren’s death, and of the indolence and confusion that were the consequences of it. They had become exceedingly clamorous, and so unruly, that more than once they had passed from importunities to action; had besieged the old Navvab in his palace, and had spoke with the utmost violence. In one of these dangerous scenes, Mir-cassem-qhan interposed; and after having quelled the sedition by his personal authority, he took upon himself part of the arrears due to the army. But some further emergencies having happened at this time, it became necessary that he should repair to Calcutta again; and although the father-in-law was not much satisfied with the necessity of this second voyage, and seemed irresolute, nevertheless he at last granted him permission, and the latter departed. It was just at a time when Mr. Henry Vansittart, better known under the appellation of Nassir-el-mulk-shems-ed-döulah-bahadyr\(199\), was already arrived at Calcutta, and had assumed, Vansittart, Governor of Calcutta. what is called, the chiefship of the factory, but which in fact was no less than the government of a city which seemed to be the head of an Empire. In appearance, Mir-cassem-qhan’s views seemed concentred in his going to take possession of his Government of P8rania; but under such a veil he concealed a variety of high designs; and he had left his friend, Aaly-hibrahim-qhan-bahadyr, at M8rsh8d-abad, with secret orders to inlist as many men for his pretended journey as he could procure. He was instructed likewise to gain the hearts of the ancient officers of the army, and to conciliate the minds of the Ministers of the old Court, as well as some other persons of consequence that had served under the old administration. This nobleman is the same person of whose merit and valuable qualifications we have made a cursory mention in our account of Aaly-verdy-qhan, and in our relation of the engagement against Shemshir-qhan, the Afghan. We spoke succinctly of his genius and penetration, as if our business had been to shew one unity out of a thousand, and a handful out of a heap. Mir-cassem-qhan, having left at the city so zealous a friend and so able a manager, proceeded to Calcutta. But as we have interrupted our narrative of the Emperor’s expedition, we must necessarily, to give some consistency to our history, revert to that subject and to Cam-car-qhan, as well as to some other events relative to Azim-abad.
Miren having been made to feel the vengeance of the Supreme Avenger, the command of his army devolved on Radja B8ll8b, who had been his Divan; and who led it back to Azim-abad, which province was yet in prey to the incursions of the Emperor and of Cam-car-qnan. It became necessary therefore to return Ram-naráin’s troops to their master, who stationed them about the city of which he was Governor. The English army likewise took up its abode there; and all these troops were forced by the rains, which now drowned the whole country, to remain in their quarters to the end of the season. This inaction left the Emperor at full liberty to act as he liked; he was eternally hunting or travelling, or visiting the country in that tract of ground that extends from the environs of Da8d-nagur, to the environs of Bahar. The reason of such a wandering life was, that having nothing to subsist upon, but what he found in the fields and amongst the farmers of the flat country, both himself, and his cavalry and cattle would have been exceedingly distressed, had he sojourned for any length of time in one place; in such a case he would have suffered for want of straw, grain, and for The Shah-zada, or Emperor, puts the whole of Bahar under contribution. every thing requisite for an army. His authority was not acknowledged in the province; and he was obliged to live by rapine and plunder, just as if he had been in the country of some stranger; nor did a single district suffice to all his wants; nor had Pahluvan-sing, no more than Radja B8niad-sing, nephew to Radja Sunder-sing, thought proper to join the Imperial troops to this day; being both unwilling to submit to Cam-car-qhan, his General, whom they looked upon to be only their equal; and Cam-car-qhan, on the other hand, who bore a cordial enmity to Sunder-sing and his family, being loth to put an end to a sojourn that ruined the lands of his personal enemy, and spared his own; so that this was one of the reasons why the Emperor and his troops were so fond of hunting and travelling throughout B8niad-sing’s country. It happened one day, that the latter had set out from the fortress of Ticary, his residence, to repair to the castle of C8rva, where he kept his family; but intelligence of this having been brought to Cam-car-qhan, he ordered a thousand Moghul horse, of those in the Emperor’s service, to waylay and seize him. The Moghuls having made a forced march, seized on the Radja, and brought him to camp, where he remained some days in confinement. From thence he wrote several petitions to my father, requesting “interest his with the Emperor, and offering to bring to camp a good body of troops, and to render more services than Cam-car-qhan had ever done, should His Majesty condescend to forgive the errors of his past behaviour. He added, that Cam-car-qhan himself on seeing his efforts, would be fired with emulation; and that His Majesty’s service would reap the benefit of the concurrence. My brother, Fateh-sing,” said he, in his petitions, “commands a body of troops amongst those of Mir-djaafer-qhan’s, in Bengal, where he shall gain over all the Commanders of that army; after which he will come with them to the foot of the Imperial throne. All this, I promise, shall come to pass; but if His Majesty, out of regard to Cam-car-qhan, should choose to enter into a negotiation with us through that Radja’s channel only, in such a case, as the latter’s interference would redound to our discredit, we would be disabled from doing the Emperor any service.”
Proposals of such a nature carrying an air of importance and probability, my illustrious father thought proper to expose them to the Emperor, who gave orders to release B8niad-sing; and the latter no sooner recovered his liberty, than he went to pay his respects to his protector, who carried him to Court, where he promised to shed his blood in the Imperial service. He afterwards sent for his troops to camp; and he wrote everywhere to his dependants and officers, to send plenty of ammunition and money, and necessaries. Such a change could not but give umbrage to Cam-car-qhan. He complained of the Emperor; and one day he told him plainly, “that if so much favour continued to be shewn to B8niad-sing, his servant would be obliged to take his leave, and to quit the camp.” The Emperor on these words had the weakness, or rather the imbecility, to order B8niad-sing again into confinement, when that Radja came as usual to pay his court. My forgiven father, shocked at such a proceeding, could not help speaking to the Emperor in strong terms of discontent and reproach; the Emperor excused himself on Cam-car-qhan’s having threatened to quit his service. “Cam-car-qhan,” answered my father, “is too far gone now to leave you; he has no other party to take in this province, but that of remaining attached to you; nor has he any other court to go to but this.” This representation, however, produced no change, so attached was the Emperor to Cam-car-qhan; and this affair having disgusted my father, he ceased to go to Court, being highly discontented at this whole affair. But Cam-car-qhan himself gave it another turn. That General, after having kept B8niad-sing in confinement for some days more, thought proper to set him at liberty, were it but to acquire with his prisoner the merit of his release. But the prisoner sent word to my father, that henceforward the Emperor ought to expect nothing from him; and that in two or three days he would take his leave; as in fact he did, to my father’s great discontent. The Emperor at last sent Bahadyr-aaly-qhan to make some concessions in his name to his Prime Minister, and to bring him to Court. My father answered, “that it was to no purpose for him to stay at camp, whilst Cam-car-qhan was absolute in it; and that he hoped to obtain permission to retire from His Majesty’s service.” The Emperor endeavoured to soothe him; but all proving in vain, fain he was to accept his resignation. Well, said the Emperor, you may go, but remember to act your part at a distance from us. Take possession of as much country as is within your reach, and after having raised forces, come to us\(200\) again. The Emperor after this dismission, sent him, but without Cam-car-qhan’s knowledge, some thousand rupees for the charges of his return; and this sum was brought to him in secret. My father set out, and repaired to his estate, where he applied himself to the execution of the order he had received, and where we shall leave him for a while to revert to Bengal and to Mir-cassem.
That nobleman having so ably executed the commission for which he had been deputed to Calcutta, took occasion from thence in his conversation with Mr. Vansittart, to expatiate on Mir-djaafer-qhan’s indolence; on the confusion into which all affairs, both of revenue and Government, had fallen; the mutinous disposition of the troops, on one hand, for want of pay, and the thoughtless profusion with which unnecessary buildings and palaces were raised, on the other; he also inveighed against the exorbitant power which such vile men as a Chunny-laal and a Munni-laal, as well as an Agno-sing the harcara, were suffered to assume in the Government by the neglect and incapacity of their master. Upon all these disorders he made lively representations. These discourses made a great impression on Mr. Vansittart, who had already got full information of Mir-djaafer-qhan’s incapacity, and felt the enormous inconveniencies resulting from it, so far as to have been discussing with himself these many days, what possible remedy he could apply to evils of that magnitude. He therefore betook himself to the expedient of appointing Mir-cassem himself, Deputy to his father-in-law, under condition of his being obliged to give him an honourable pension, and of promising never to depart from a submissive respectful behaviour to him, as to his superior and master. There was not one man then amongst the English who could equal Mr. Vansittart in keenness of penetration, extent of knowledge, and experience; and with such talents as these, he soon discovered the high qualities of Mir-cassem, and how far he was superior in abilities, not only to his father-in-law, but to every person in that Court. Impressed with the idea of his being the only man capable of retrieving the affairs of Bengal, he imparted his mind to the members of his Council, and asked their opinion and advice. Most of the principal members assented to Mr. Vansittart’s expedient, and fixed their minds upon it. But as Mr. Amyatt bore impatiently the humiliation of seeing another seated in a chair, which he thought his due, and he fretted at the necessity of being obliged to obey his commands, and he had also formed a party amongst those members that wished to see him at the head of affairs, (and such were Mr. Ellis, Major Carnac, and Mr. Batson), he vigorously objected to the proposed expedient; and all the four refused to give their consent. They found inconvenients in the scheme, objected to it as to a shameful bargain, and harangued against it every Council day. Not that Amyatt was not in his heart fully sensible of the old Navvab’s incapacity, but being himself incensed at Mr. Vansittart’s promotion, and wishing ?? be in his place, he in conformity with the proverb, Nothing of Aaly’s will ever please Moáviáh,\(201\) took care to object to any party proposed by Vansittart; and as soon as the latter had shewn any predilection for some view, the other was sure to counteract it, and to use every endeavour to defeat its end. Both these men, in their letters to Europe, depreciated the abilities of Amyatt forms a strong party against Vansittart. each other, and made it a point to load each other with taunts and reproaches; each accusing his antagonist of infatuation, and avarice, and covetousness, and chicanery, and obstinacy. In this manner they endlessly wrote complaints against each other; and it was this disunion of theirs, which by involving whole nations in its consequences, ruined and demolished an infinity of families, as we shall soon mention with all that air of truth and candour which characterise impartiality. Nevertheless, Mr. Vansittart’s party proved the strongest; his scheme took effect; Mir-cassem-qhan carried him his point; and it was determined that, to put the scheme in execution, Mr. Vansittart should repair to M8rsh8d-abad.
Mir-cassem, satisfied with the success of his voyage, returned to that city, and was soon followed by Mr. Vansittart himself, who carried with him Mr. Hushtin, the supporter of the Empire, who at the moment I am writing these memoirs, being Saturday, the twenty-third of the blessed month of Ramazan, 1780-81. in the Year 1194 of the Hegira, is now at the head of the English dominions in India, and indeed at the head of most of the important affairs of all Hindostan. Mr. Vansittart had also some other gentlemen with him, and he was soon followed by a number of officers, who took the same road with one-half of the English army. But whilst the English were advancing towards the capital, Mir-cassem was preparing to make a magnificent entry in that city. He had sent orders to his friend, Aaly-hibrahim-qhan, to come to receive him at Palassy, with as many men, soldiers, and others, as he could assemble; to which he was to join as many of the Ministers and Grandees of the old Court, as he had gained over to his party; recommending to him to increase the number of the mace-bearers in his retinue, and to provide a new equipage equally rich and brilliant, and such as might enable him to make as pompous an entry as possible in the city. Aaly-hibrahim-qhan, who has not his equal in the art of executing a commission, went even farther than his friend had wished; and going to meet him at Palassy with a retinue equally brilliant and numerous, he enabled him to make his entry into the city, with the utmost splendour and magnificence. Mir-cassem, on his arrival, went to his lodgings, from whence he paid a visit to the old Navvab. The next day, in the evening, Mr. Vansittart arrived, and took up his quarters at M8rad-bagh, which is a seat on the other side of the Baughratty. The next day, at about nine in the morning, Mir-djaafer-qhan went to see him. Mr. Vansittart received him with the usual ceremonies,\(202\) and then exposed the motive of his voyage, with the expedient he had devised for re-establishing order and arrangement in the Government and finances. The old man refused his consent, and spoke a great deal, and seemed uneasy. Mr. Vansittart sent a person to fetch Mir-cassem-qhan, and meanwhile the conference went on with mutual expostulations and reproaches. The old Navvab refusing absolutely to give his consent to the regulation which the other proposed, got up, declined waiting any more for Mir-cassem, and took his leave. Whilst he was crossing the river to return to his palace, he perceived Mir-cassem in his own boat crossing over to M8rad-bagh, and he made him sign to return; his intention being to prevent his going thither for concerting the execution of some scheme to his prejudice. But the other, who thought his honour concerned in not returning back, went on, and did, as if he had neither seen the sign nor heard the voice. Being arrived at M8rad-bagh, Mr. Vansittart exposed to him minutely the whole conference from the beginning to its end. Mir-cassem answered: “That he was sorry matters had taken such a turn, as now the old Navvab having conceived suspicions against him, would give himself no rest, until he had made away with his son-in-law.” Mr. Vansittart answered, he could not help it. The other replied, “If you cannot help me in this affair, how should I help myself, who have been all along helpless?” Mr. Vansittart’s dinner being upon the table, he desired Mir-cassem to sit still, until the dinner was over, when he would speak to him again; on which the latter retired to another apartment, and there sat some time exceedingly surprised and pensive. After this he consulted Aaly-hibrahim-qhan, whom he had brought with him, and he asked him, what he thought of the present posture of affairs? The other answered: “Tell Mr. Vansittart, whatever is the matter, and whatever you have so say, if he does not consent, then without going home again, send for your troops and money hither; and taking your departure from this very spot, march towards Birbohom, and canton yourself there, act as one revolted, and live by plunder and rapine. As most of the troops are attached to you, and the Emperor and Cam-car-qhan shall favorise your views undoubtedly, it is probable that even in this manner your scheme may chance to succeed.” Mir-cassem approved this advice; and as he was now upon the worst terms with Mir-djaafer-qhan, he kept this expedient in store in his bosom, as a remedy that might be recurred to at the last extremity. And really the troops, extremely discontented on the prospect of losing both their pay and their arrears, were all averse to the old Navvab, and all attached to his son-in-law, especially since the latter had taken upon himself the discharge of their arrears. The two Djagat-seats, that is, Mahtab-ráy, and his brother, Radja Ser8p-chund, were Mir-cassem’s secret friends, and favorised his views underhand, although little suspecting how far matters would alter one day, and what strange events the Divine Providence, by its fullness of power, would at some time hereafter bring out of the present disturbances. Mr. Vansittart, after his meal, sent for Mir-cassem again, and the latter exposed the difficulties and necessities of his situation. He added, “That if the scheme was not brought to bear, as it had been agreed to, matters might end in mischief, as they had now come to a crisis, and he had no other resource to save himself.” Mr. Vansittart, hearing these words, took apart Mr. Hushtin, with one or two others, and spent a very long time in consultation and conference; at last, after a deal of dissertation, it was determined, that to-morrow they should go together with Mir-cassem to the palace, to execute the scheme in the manner it had been agreed upon. But Mir-cassem having now conceived heavy suspicions against his father-in-law, sent orders to his troops, and to all his friends, to assemble in great numbers in his house and in his quarter, where they were to keep themselves in readiness. He had previously ordered his household people to keep ready victuals dressed for all that multitude, by which expedient those vast numbers that had thronged in his palace and in his whole quarter, were kept together, and did not disperse to take their meals. The consultation being ended at M8rad-bagh, and a final resolution taken, Mir-cassem was dismissed to his home; and it was determined, that to-morrow at day-break, he should be ready and armed with all his friends and troops, and that one hour before the dawn of the day, the English officers, with their soldiers and guns, should take possession of the gate of the Navvab’s palace. Mir-cassem, after taking leave, ordered a lane to be formed of his troops, down to the water-side, along which he went and took boat; and after crossing the river, he went along another such lane up to his palace, where he passed the whole night in offering to the Supreme Judge of pretensions, prayers for the success of his undertaking; after which he spoke to his friends and his well-wishers; so that it was late at night when he took some rest. The next day, as the morning of Mir-cassem-qhan’s prosperity was just dawning, that nobleman being waked by his good fortune, ordered all his friends and troops to stand ready to accompany him, and as soon as he saw them assembled in vast crowds, he arrayed himself in the attire of a Sovereign, and recommending his person to his fortune, he mounted the steed of hope and success, and advanced towards the old Navvab’s palace. There he found that Mr. Vansittart, with Mr. Hushtin, and some other persons of distinction, were already arrived, with a number of officers and troops, all ranged in the outer yard of his palace, with some cannon ready primed; they had placed guards with orders to suffer none to come in or out. Mir-cassem stopped at the Nacar-qhana, or theatre of military music, and mounting a horse, he remained there surrounded by his people. Messages, meanwhile, were going in and out, but to little purpose; nor could all Mr. Vansittart’s arguments persuade the old man, that instead of abandoning the government of his dominions to two or three wretched Hindoos, capable of nothing but of enriching themselves, and instead of leaving the troops, with the gentry and nobility to starve, ready to come to an open revolt; he had better recommend his affairs to his own son-in-law, who by being admitted to the helm, as his Deputy, would bring no detriment to his affairs, which, on the contrary, would be now freed from all the embarrassments they had laboured under, and would leave him at full liberty to pass the remainder of his days in the pleasures of society and the Vansittart, who intended only to make Mir-cassem, Deputy to the Navvab, is obliged to render him absolute. enjoyments of life. The Navvab would not listen to any such reasoning; he remained obstinate; nor would he lend a willing ear to the insinuation of the English rulers. A deal of time was spent in messages and answers, and all to no purpose. At last the English Talingas approached the gate, and the cannon was got ready. At the noise they made the troops within the gate, where they had been assembled by the Navvab for his defence, took fright, and by one of these accidents which never arrive, but amongst those in whose hearts God himself has implanted a dread of those sorts of soldiers, as if to punish a sinful race in the inhabitants of these regions; they, one and all, under some pretence or other, slipt out of their posts one after another, and most of them repaired to their houses. Mr. Vansittart finding that even this desertion had made no impression upon the Navvab, could not help saying, “That since the man proved obstinate, and would listen to no sober advice, it was needless to wait for his consent; and that they had better proceed on the business of regulating the country, satisfying the soldiers, and easing the subjects.” This opinion having been assented to by all the rulers and officers who were with him, all of whom, to a man, were convinced of the justness of his observation; he directed Mir-cassem-qhan to take his seat on the Mesned of the three provinces, and from thence to issue his commands everywhere. At the same time he got the gate opened, and driving away the few men that were there, he placed English Talingas on the several apartments for their safety, and a particular guard at the gate of the women’s sanctuary. After taking all those precautions, he sent for Mir-cassem-qhan, made him sit upon the Mesned of command and sovereignty, which was placed under a lofty canopy of rich embroidery; and after assisting at that ceremony, he retired to a distant apartment where he took some rest. This event happened on a Sunday, being the tenth of the first Reby, in the year of the Hegira 1174; and it carried A. D. 1761. Mir-cassem-qhan’s steps from the dignity of Deputy, which was all that was intended at first, as far as the absolute dominion over the three provinces, of which none had yet thought any thing. The military music struck at the same time; and the report of his accession to full power, rushing with equal swiftness and eclat from house to house, most of those that waited at home to see what might happen that day, joined those favourites and friends of his who had already thronged the gates; and all together crowded upon him with their congratulations and nuzurs. Mr. Vansittart leaving Mr. Hushtin with some troops to guard the new Viceroy for two or three days, quietly returned to M8rad-bagh, but not without having sent a message to the discarded Prince, whom he informed in the following terms: “That if he chose to reside in M8rsh8d-abad, none would presume to offer him any injury; and that he was at liberty to choose what palace, and what spot he would be pleased to pitch upon. That else, if he chose to quit this city, and to reside in Calcutta, he might even there choose whatever habitation he would be pleased with.” The old man, who was retired within the sanctuary with his women and children, answered, that he would go to Calcutta; and he asked boats and accommodations for that voyage. These being provided in a little time, Mir-djaafer-qhan assembled leisurely those treasures, and those inestimable gems and jewels that had been hoarding up for ages together, by several ancient families and Princes, (such as Djaafer-qhan, his son-in-law, Shudjah-qhan, and his grandson, Ser-efraz-qhan, to which hoard immense additions had been made afterwards by Aaly-verdy-qhan, and by his three sons-in-law, and lastly by Seradj-ed-döula.) All these had been hitherto kept in the sanctuary under the care of Menni alias Menni-begum, who from a dance-girl, had become his favourite consort, and acted in every thing as the mistress of the house. He ransacked in the same manner the several wardrobes, left by all those preceding Princes, from whence he took all those precious stuffs, and all those costly curiosities, which being so many miracles of art as well as luxury, had been amassed one by one by those ancient families, and were kept within the sanctuary out of the sight of mankind. In short, he carried away every thing precious or rich which he could recollect, or even think of, together with such of the ladies of the seraglio as had cohabited with him; he also embarked his children, which consisted in three or four little boys, and several daughters. All these being put on board, together with a number of servants of both sexes, he departed for Calcutta, being all along escorted for the safety of his person, by some companies of English Talingas, who accompanied him to the very gates of that city, which is now a place of an immense wealth and populousness, and the capital of those extensive dominions which the English have acquired in India. Arrived there, he purchased in the most populous part of the city, and near the market-place, a spot of ground, whereon he raised several buildings according to his own mind and taste. It was remarked, that of all his friends, none had chosen to follow him in order to keep him company, but Gh8lam-aaly-beg, who gave him that proof of attachment; but in reality he had no other corner to which he could resort.
By this departure, Mir-cassem-qhan had remained the sole possessor of the Mesned of command and sovereignty; and nevertheless he sought to raise his importance by several sounding titles and surnames, which he was at the pains of procuring from the Imperial Court; these were those of Nassyr-el-mulk, Imtiaz-ed-döula-mir-mahmed-cạssem-qhan-nusret-djung.\(203\) A son being born to him a little before this sudden elevation, he looked upon his birth as presaging certain success to his enterprise; and as he understood a little astrology, and believed in its maxims and predictions, he procured the child’s horoscope to be accurately drawn by several able astrologers; and on their predictions he expressed his hope, that he would one day rise to the highest dignities. But he did not live; and he died two or three years after his father had appointed him Governor-General of the province of Azim-abad, and had procured for him from the Emperor, the titles of Mir-shems-eddin-aaly-qhan-bahadyr-nassyr-djung,\(204\) with the grade of seven thousand horse. A seraglio had been provided for him, together with a number of servants, and officers, and chairmen, and horses, and elephants, all proportioned to his size; so that the child with its diminutive seraglio, and household, and retinue, became for a time a spectacle to the whole city of M8rsh8d-abad. The new Prince, after having provided for his son, remembered his relations. He had a maternal uncle, by name Mir-aab8-t8rab, a poor wretch, whom in the first days of his power, he raised to the title of Muéz-ed-döula,\(205\) (T8rab-aaly-qhan-bahadyr,) bestowing upon him a standard, a kettle-drum, a fringed paleky, and a brigade of horse and foot. The son of this uncle was honoured with the title of Aab8-aaly-qhan-bahadyr, and with a brigade; and he took care to distinguish him, but without giving him any influence or authority; and the truth is, that he had not merit enough for such a distinction. The uncle himself was not a man of merit; nor had he any fitness for employs and commands; but he had the merit of remembering very well both those he had loved, and those that had shewn any friendship to him; nor did he fail, as much as it depended on him, to promote their welfare, and to watch every favourable moment of speaking in their behalf to the new Prince, who soon after his elevation betrayed some ferocity in his temper. However, his principal care on the first days of the revolution, was only to establish and to confirm some stipulations and promises that had been agreed to with the Court of Calcutta, and with the English nation. These stipulations had been written and witnessed by both sides; and they were now confirmed and agreed to anew; in consequence of which, Mir-cassem-qhan being invested with the power of binding and losing, closely applied himself to the business of re-establishing the finances, and settling the government of the country. With this view he took to task all the heads of the several offices, whether those of old standing, or those that had been brought in by Mir-djaafer-qhan, or his son, Miren; he obliged them to render a circumstantial account of their administration, and thereby discovered an infinity of infidelities and embezzlements; and in this particular branch of administration, he had the art to get himself assisted by several ancient officers, whom he took care to soothe into compliance, by taking them into favour. These were of great service to him in discovering and convicting the others. By these means he came to have an exact account of the effecive men in the army, and of the quantity of money, jewels, and furniture left in the palace or in the treasury. As a further security, he appointed some of his friends, on whose abilities he confided, to act as Comptrollers, and Supervisors in the several offices. Aaly-hibrahim-qhan, who was his trustiest friend, and who, to all his innate delicacy in matters of honour and fidelity, joins the incomparable talent of unravelling the most hidden mysteries of administration, and of discovering intuitively the decisive knot of the most intricate accounts, was proposed chiefly to the military examination, and to the business of ascertaining the real arrears due to the troops. But besides that appointment, he occasionally unravelled with an admirable dexterity, the hidden springs and artifices of the most complicated statements. But still an associate was given him in that business; and it was Sitaram, a man of a bad character indeed, and who was universally known for a mischievous wicked Minister, but who was a complete master of all the intricacies of revenue accounts; and as he had been often at variance with other Accomptants, he was thought the fitter for examining and bringing to light the embezzlements of the other officers of the revenue, and of the several penmen. Mir-m8nshy, the Navvab’s Secretary, a man in whom he reposed a great confidence, and who had been decorated with the title of Hafyz-esrar-qhan,\(206\) was now proposed to audit certain accounts, and to unravel certain expenditures that were of his province.
But a man who now appeared for the first time upon the horizon, and soon rose to engross the Navvab’s unbounded confidence, was an Armenian called Qhadja-gurghin, brother to Qhadja-bedross.\(207\) He was put at the head of the artillery, with orders to new-model it after the European fashion, and likewise to discipline the musqueteers in his service after the English manner; troops, which to this day have retained the name of Talingas, in imitation of their patterns and models. To raise his character, he was henceforward called Gurghin-qhan, and distinguished by many favours; and he soon became a principal man in the Navvab’s service. There was no man equal to him in that Prince’s employment; none had so much credit upon his mind; and to this day, no General ever had the art of governing his master in so complete a manner. He, like the devil, was endlessly running after Mir-cassem-qhan; and having once laid hold of him, he mastered him, and kept him under at pleasure. Another of his favourites, who yielded but little to Gurghin-qhan, was Sheh-mesned-aaly the Lucnovian, a man of the scum of the people, totally void of brains, but who now was raised to the highest rank in the army; his favour extended even to his sons, as well as to his two nephews, who after his death, inherited part of his offices, and were each of them Paymasters to four or five thousand horse. Ferhad-aaly had some thousand horse to his share, and Bereket-aaly in proportion; his son, Mahmed-aaly, had the command and payment of five thousand horse, who were disciplined after the English manner, and commanded by Hevalidars, and Djemaatdars, and S8bahdars, and Comidans, (Commandants). To every troop of ten amongst these five thousand troopers, there was added a stout man, with a drawn sabre, whose business was, in a day of battle, not to fight himself, but to kill upon the spot, any one that should turn his back. On another side, Mirza-shemseddin, who had been even from his youth attached to Mir-cassem-qhan, and was a man quick at repartees and of a pleasing conversation, was sent to Azim-abad, with the commission of gaining the hearts of Miren’s army quartered there, and of conciliating to his government the minds of the principal persons of that city. This commission having been ably executed, soon rendered him one of the principal favourites of the Navvab’s. He was honoured with some lucrative offices, for instance, that of the wardrobe, with the agency at the Emperor’s Court, and the management of the djaghirs, or apanages affected to some persons, now in the Imperial camp, as well as of some other lands and districts. It is remarkable, that some time before Mir-cassem-qhan’s elevation, I received a very obliging and very polite letter from him, where he fixed upon me a handsome salary, and requested my interest with the English of the factory at Azim-abad, and with some other persons of consequence amongst them, that he might by their means obtain the government of that province. He was unaware at that time, that his good fortune destined him to the sovereignty of the very country of which he wished to have only the government; and moreover would add to it the throne of Bengal.
He was hardly established on the Mesned, when he instituted a scrutiny in the department of finances, where he was amazed and thunderstruck at the emptiness of the treasury, and at the immense balances which he had to pay to his own troops, as well as to those of Mir-djaafer-qhan’s, for whose arrears he had pledged himself; and all that, over and above the large sums that were due to the English army and to the English rulers. He therefore resolved to keep a watchful eye over such Districts of Bengal as had come in his possession; and at the same time he made over to the English the whole province of Bardevan, in assignment of what was due to them for the pay of their army; he also put into their hands his own jewels, as a pledge for the sums promised to that nation. From thence he turned his thought towards the musters of the army, where, after repeated reviews and a minute investigation, made under the eyes of Aaly-hibrahim-qhan, it appeared that enormous infidelities had been committed in the Paymaster’s office; and that there was no other way of paying off the sums due to the army, than by liquidating one part of them by the monies accruing from the revenues, and one part, by giving assignations upon several provinces; after which there would remain one-third part more, which might be payable at some future period. The troops, who under the preceding administration had been driven to despair by the inability of the treasury, satisfied with the steps taken to discharge their arrears, and to pay them regularly for the future, acquiesced in every thing; and it is on this subject probably, that Mir-cassem-qhan, in consequence of some previous agreement, received of the Djagat-seats a sum of money; a disagreeable operation to which he was driven by the necessity of his afiairs. These arrangements being over, he turned his views towards his own income, and he curtailed his expenses so as to bring his expenditure on a par with his revenue, retrenching as useless and burdensome a variety of expenses usual and customary in India, and which men in power believe to be necessary to their pleasures; for instance, the ram-office, the nightingale-office, the antelope-office, and some others, all belonging to the menagery department. Of all that multitude of animals, he kept only a few of each species, and made the rest over to the Zemindars of the provinces, on their paying a certain price, which his treasury received from their agents, At the same time, Chunny-laal, and M8ny-laal, those men that had fattened so long on the vitals of the people, were seized, and served according to their deserts; and vast sums of money accrued to the treasury from the confiscation of their effects.
It must be observed that Mir-cassem-qhan had been from his earliest youth in favour with the family of Aaly-verdy-qhan, on account of his being son-in-law to Mir-djaafer-qhan, whose consort was half-sister to that Prince; and it was on her recommendation that he had received the command of a troop of horse, for which he drew pay regularly. This circumstance, by giving him access to all the offices, and to the houses of most of the men in the management of the revenues, had procured him a thorough insight into their infidelities and embezzlements; so that he was informed early of the faculties of every one of them; insomuch, that when he came to the sovereign command, it became easy to him to find out every one of those managers, whom he knew or suspected to have been money-hoarders. He now availed himself of a variety of pretences to strip them of the greatest part of their acquisitions by bringing them under the lash of the auditing office. Matters went so far, that he took to task even some women who were known to have had the management of some expenditures within Mr-djaafer-qhan’s seraglio, or in that of his son, Miren, or who appeared by the accounts of the Steward’s office to have been entrusted with the keeping of jewels, or of sums of gold, or with furniture of that metal, or with some curious and costly things; or who appeared to have received any quantity of them in present. All these were now seized, and by threats obliged to a restitution; and some of them were made to refund more than they had ever received. Nay, he ferreted out and took to task some slave women, and some eunuchs of the household of Aaly-verdy-qhan’s, and of his sons-in-law; old people who having bought some protector at Court, had retired, and were passing their lives in corners, and retirement. Even these were made to pay as much money as it was possible, as much at least as informers had given advice of; so that one would think that he had been present, and had heard the poet Saady speak, when the latter pronounced these famous verses:
| “Why do not you put every one under a contribution of some silver? |
| That there may come every day some treasure into your hands.” |
Amongst the old heads of office who had served under Aaly-verdy-qhan, there was one Radja Djagat-sing, who had for a number of years acted as Deputy to the two Divans, Djankiram, and D8ll8bram, but who had as much influence and authority as either of them. Being grown old now, he had retired from affairs; but on observing how matters went abroad with others, he sent an exact list of the effects and money he had been hoarding up these fifty years past, and thereby redeemed his honour and character. The whole amounted to an incredible sum, and indeed, it wrought a singular effect. The Viceroy, having remitted him a small part of his substance, took possession of the remainder; but he from that moment paid much regard to the man, to whom he henceforward shewed so much attention, that whenever he came to Court he made him sit at his left elbow, close to his Mesned. From this man the Navvab passed to another; this was a nobleman who had been Daroga, or introductor of the hall of audience to Aaly-verdy-qhan, for a number of years, in which time he had been a favourite so far, as to have amassed lacs in that office. The nobleman was now desired to refund the whole, both jewels and cash, but nevertheless was continued in his office: his name was Gholam-hosséin-qhan. In short, the new Navvab, having by the mighty sums he assembled from all parts, brought it within his power to establish regular payments for the troops, picked from amongst them those he liked most, dismissed the others, and discharged entirely their arrears. After putting the army under a proper regulation, he turned his views towards the strongholds of the Zemindars, all of whom he was determined to bring, not only under controul, but even under a thorough submission.
Amongst the Zemindars in the kingdom of Bengal, none was so near neighbour to the city of M8rsh8d-abad, its capital, as the Radja of Birbohom, and none so powerful, whether by the number of his troops, or by his personal character for bravery. He likewise piqued himself upon a sense of honour, and a delicacy of sentiments, qualifictions very extraordinary in a Zemindar. Now Mir-cassem-qhan, in his heart, had been at all times an enemy to Zemindars, and it must be acknowledged, that they are a set of men faithless to a high degree, short-sighted, impatient of controul, ever ready, on the least appearance of a revolution, to turn their backs on their masters, and to forget the most important favours received at their hands, losing no opportunity to execute all the mischief which occasion presents, and on that account, as well on account of their strange and inconsistent character, requiring at all times the strong grasp of a curbing hand. It is for such a variety of reasons that the ancient Emperors and Princes, unwilling to repose any confidence The Radja of Birbohom revolts. in such men, used to manage every Pergannah or District by their own officers; a precaution which rendered the country in those times, populous and flourishing, the husbandman easy, the traveller safe, the land everywhere tilled and green, and the inhabitants of towns and cities, prosperous and happy. Whereas now that Zemindars are left to themselves, and with the reins floating on their necks, mischiefs are increasing every day, the country becomes desolate, and the revenues fall short and are in confusion; and if matters remain in this state, the country shall go from bad to worse, and all will go to wreck. But to return to our purpose; the Zemindar of Birbohom, Bedy-us-zeman-qhan, who went by the name of Divan-dji, had always been in his youth, as he was now even in his riper years, extremely addicted to his ease and to his pleasures; and it was to enjoy himself he had left the management of his dominions to Aaly-naky-qhan, the most capable of his sons, his whole ambition being to pass his days in quiet and enjoyment. But this hopeful son of his dying in the flower of his age, the father, who was already disgusted with the world, and deeply affected by the total ruin that had befallen Aaly-verdy-qhan’s family, to which he was extremely attached, put on a Fakyr’s garb, and placing at the head of his dominions Assed-zeman-qhan,\(208\) another son of his, but born to him from his Rani, or Princess,\(209\) he retired again out of the tumult of affairs, and seemed pleased with nothing but the conversation of Fakyrs, and with retirement and tranquility. It happened at that conjuncture that something above the usual rent had been asked of the new-seated Zemindar; the Navvab had asked as a sovereign urged by the necessities of his state; and the other had refused for fear of establishing a precedent. Probably there was another reason, and this was, that the new Navvab, who passed as yet for only an ungrateful man that had risen but yesterday to an elevation which seemed to put all mankind at his feet, was not supposed to have acquired so early a sufficient stock of authority and power to render his Government respectable. Be it as it may, the Navvab set out of the city, and encamped at B8dgam, which is at about ten or twelve cosses’ distance; from whence he dispatched Qhadja-mahmedi-qhan, to chastise the Radja of Birbohom. This officer, who had been in the office of Paymaster-General so early as the times of Mir-djaafer-qhan’s accession to the throne, was accompanied by an Englishman, called Major York, and likewise by Gurghin-qhan, alias Codja-Kircor, the Armenian, who was Grandmaster of the artillery, and had been raised and promoted by Mir-cassem-qhan. It must be observed that this officer had orders to march forward with his troops, and if possible, to put an end to the war with the Radja, before the English could come up with their detachment. But as there did not remain now any one of those officers and Generals that had been formed by serving under Aaly-verdy-qhan, and the troops had none at their head but those vile unexperienced men, that had been brought forward in great numbers by Mir-djaafer-qhan and his son, and none of course on whom they might repose a confidence, matters went on very ill in that campaign. For Assed-zeman-qhan, having requested his father to govern the country as his Divan, or Prime Minister, in his absence, took the field with about four or five thousand horse, and twenty thousand foot, which he posted at Kerivha, a spot of difficult access; from whence he endlessly dispatched detachments to possess themselves of all the difficult passes, and to scour the enemy’s country. And I found matters in that posture, when I arrived myself at the camp at B8dgam.
I had been sent thither by Major Carnac, who had succeeded Colonel Clive as his Deputy, and was likewise Commander-in-Chief of all the English forces. This officer, in concert with Mr. Hay, the acting Chief of the factory of Patna, in Mr. Amyatt’s absence, had given me instructions to represent to Mir-cassem-qhan, the state of affairs in the province of Bahar, and the propriety of his taking a journey thither; and this was what I exposed to that Prince in my first visit, where I delivered faithfully the message which I had brought; and it was during my sojourn in that camp, that news came of the victory obtained in Birbohom. That event happened in the following manner: Some English Captains, who were quartered with a few companies of Talingas in Bardvan, advanced from thence on Assed-zeman-qhan’s rear, and availing themselves of that neglect and supineness which they perceived in his troops, they broke suddenly into his camp, and dispersed his whole army. A few discharges of cannon, and some volleys of musquetry, killed and wounded numbers in the The Radja’s whole army dispersed by a handful of English. Radja’s army, and put the others to flight, who taking fright, dispersed on all sides. On the report of the cannon, the Navvab’s troops hastened forward, and came just time enough to shew themselves, and to pursue the runaways a little; after which, they encamped on the spot which the enemy had abandoned. The Navvab having heard enough of this affair to become sensible of the cowardice and unwillingness of his troops, conceived a dislike against every one of them, but especially against their General, Mahmedy-qhan, with whom he was not already much pleased. But we shall give some account of the consequences of this engagement, as soon as the reader shall have been informed of the posture of affairs at Azim-abad, and of the conjunctures which brought me to the Navvab’s camp.
We have already mentioned that Mr. Holwell, having commanded sometime by interim, Mr. Vansittart came and took the command at Calcutta, where he soon figured as the supreme mover of whatever was transacted in the Council. But some days before, that is, immediately on Colonel Clive’s departure, Mr. Amyatt, with Major Carnac, Mr. Lushington, and some other English rulers, had already repaired to Calcutta, where he had been received as second in command, but where he soon commenced a chain of dissensions and misintelligences with Mr. Vansittart, whom he was endlessly accusing of ignorance and incapacity in all his letters to Europe; nor was Mr. Vansittart backward in retorting the accusation, being forced into this warfare by his very circumstances. Colonel Clive had already, God knows for what reason, quitted the command of the army, and repaired to Europe, and he had been succeeded in his military command by Major Carnac, who was the next in order. Mr. Lushington himself had returned to Azim-abad sometime after Mir-cassem-qhan’s elevation. As I happened, although the last of men, to be so much connected with the English rulers, that the new Viceroy had some time before thought proper to solicit my interest with them, by settling a handsome salary upon me, and even by introducing that request by a sum of money; so those gentlemen, who knew that particular, as well as the necessities of my situation, availed themselves of that opportunity, to support my claim to a Djaghir of six hundred thousand dams, in and about the town of Mongher,\(210\) close to the castle, which estate had been for ages in the possession of our family, and had been confiscated by Mir-djaafer-qhan, on account of my father’s being so attached to the Emperor. These gentlemen, fully apprised of this, interposed so effectually with Mir-cassem-qhan, that they obtained of him a release of the said estate, and having received a patent of it, signed and sealed by the new Viceroy, as well as by the usual officers, they got it registered in the offices of Azim-abad, and engaged Ram-naráin to deliver it to me with his own hands; after which I sent a Steward thither, who took possession of the land.
The rainy season being over, Major Carnac came out of the city of Azim-abad, at the head of the English troops, fully resolved to put an end to that conflagration, which the Emperor and M8shur Lass,\(211\) with Cam-car-qhan, were keeping up throughout the province; and he ordered Radja Ram-naráin and Radja B8ll8b to join him at Djaafer-qhan’s garden, where he was encamped. Although I had no office, and held but a small rank in the world, I thought that the favours I had received of the English required my making the campaign with the Major; but as in consequence of a variety of unfortunate events of many years’ standing, I was destitute of tents, horses, arms, and necessaries, the Major and Mr. Hay joined together in furnishing me with arms, horses, a tent, and every necessary for that purpose; so that the poor man passed his time agreeably in the English army, being every day with the Major, and often admitted and consulted in affairs of consequence. But as the army remained encamped there for some time, and the two Gentoos, who were in camp at the head of large bodies of toops, agreed so little together, that what the one had proposed in his usual visit of the morning, never failed to be objected to by the other, in his evening interview, the Major, and the other English rulers lost all patience; and disgusted at such a continual scene of dissension, they joined Mr. Hay in telling me, “That they looked upon me (the poor man) as one attached both to the English, and to Mir-cassem-qhan, whose affairs were likely to be ruined by these two Gentoos, whose dissensions had no end; that as they were both in high credit and authority, both at the head of whole armies, and both acting as servants and deputies of Mir-cassem-qhan, the English could not do anything, nor even come to any final resolution, so long as these men should continue so opposed to each other; for the English were not enabled to distinguish whose opinion they must adhere to. It becomes then convenient,” added they, “that Mir-cassem-qhan, their master, should himself come over; to the end, that after consulting those two servants of his, and hearing their respective opinions, he may take a party for himself; after which we shall have no other trouble than that of following the same, as we shall have then to treat solely with him. Not that we have not several times wrote to him on the subject; but our letters have produced no effect; because, forsooth, the affairs of Birbohom are of higher importance than those of Azim-abad; or because the Radja is a more dangerous foe than the Emperor, and M8shur Lass and Cam-car-qhan. Do then repair to Mir-cassem-qhan, and by all means bring him hither.” To this proposal I consented, and having been furnished with letters from the Major for Mir-cassem-qhan, and with other letters for Major York, that he might protect my person, should Mir-cassem attempt to offer me any injury, I departed. I was furnished by the Major with every thing requisite for my journey, and he added to them one of those Imperial badjraws of the navy Djehan-ghir-nugur,\(212\) which attended the English army. In descending the river, I met by the way Mr. Macguire, who was going to Azim-abad, as Chief of the factory there; and as we were both travelling in haste, I only found an opportunity of making my bow to him from afar, and of sending him my compliments. Mir-cassem-qhan being not at M8rsh8d-abad, I repaired to his camp at B8dgam, where I explained my errand. The Navvab objected to his going to Azim-abad; but as to the rest, he shewed me the utmost kindness and attention. He ordered a tent to be pitched for me, sent me tables full of victuals twice a day, and conversed familiarly with me; he also sent some of those delicate stuffs, such as turbants and fine malmalls, which are manufactured at Djehanghir-nugur;\(213\) and these kindnesses lasted until Ram-naráin, by the channel of Djagut-seat’s agent, who was likewise a pensioner of his, found means to convey a letter to the Navvab, by which he informed him, that being myself exceedingly attached to the English, whilst, on the other hand, my father cut so capital a figure in the Emperor’s camp, I had come as a spy, on the part of both the English and the Emperor. Those malignant insinuations were introduced by Djagut-seat himself, through the channel of his own agents; and as Mir-cassem-qhan was naturally of a suspicious disposition, he ceased to shew me so much regard as he had done; and this change of behaviour impressed me with much concern, and some fears; but as Major York was not in the army, I was at a loss where to take shelter, and how to manage. To ask my leave of the Navvab, and to be gone, might have increased his suspicions; and, on the other hand, to remain in camp, without that assistance on his part, which my want of equipage had rendered necessary, became impracticable. Nevertheless, two or three days being elapsed since my disgrace, I availed myself of it, to ask leave to return to M8rsh8d-abad. You will go to Azim-abad, I believe, answered he, with a severe cast of features, and you may. I answered, that I had business at M8rsh8d-abad; and he dismissed me, with an air of severity, and without presenting me, as is the custom, with any thing for the charges of my journey. After making my way to M8rsh8d-abad, with some difficulty, I landed in the house of an acquaintance, where, some time after my arrival, he thought proper to send me a small sum of money, through the hands of Qhadja-Ashref, the Cashmirian, who was a nephew to the Prince of Merchants, Qhadja-vadjed, a favourite of the Navvab’s.\(214\)
After some interval, intelligence came “That Major Carnac having attacked the Emperor about Azim-abad, had given him a defeat, and obliged him to retreat; that M8shur Lass having, in compliance with some custom established between the English Major Carnac beats the Shah-zada totally, and takes M8shur Lass prisoner. and French nations, surrendered himself prisoner, had been treated with honour and distinction, and that some time after the Major, by sending some messages to the Emperor, had engaged him to listen to terms of pacification; after which he had paid his respects to that Monarch, and brought him with him to Azim-abad, where he had lodged him in the city.” Mir-cassem-qhan, on hearing this news, hastened his march through the hills, and advanced to Azim-abad. I resolved on my side to repair thither also; but as I was preparing to set out, I heard that T8rab-aaly-qhan, Deputy to the Navvab in Bengal, had ordered that no letters should be delivered to the Hindostanies whether coming to, or going out of, M8rsh8d-abad, and that no, one of them should quit the city without his leave. I was surprised and confounded at the prohibition, but at last I obtained his permission by the interposition of the Chief of Cassimbazar, and quitting Bengal, I journeyed to Azim-abad. And now we must revert to the thread of our history, that the reader may not wonder at our leaving unfinished the narrative of the manner in which matters were brought to a conclusion at Azim-abad.
Major Carnac, after dismissing me to M8rsh8d-abad, marched at the head of the English troops, as well as those belonging to Ram-naráin, and to Miren; his intention was to fight the Emperor, who was at Gaya-manp8r. The latter on being informed of that General’s approach, wrote letter after letter to my father, requesting his joining him with the large body of troops which he had assembled in his retreat. But before my father could arrive, the engagement had already taken place, and the war was at an end. M8shur Lass, with the small force, and the small artillery which he could muster, bravely fought the English themselves, and for some time he made a shift to withstand their superiority. Their auxiliaries consisted in large bodies of natives, commanded by Ram-naráin, and Radja B8ll8b. But the engagement was decided by the English, who fell with so much effect upon the enemy, that their onset could not be withstood by either the Emperor or Cam-car-qhan. The latter finding he could not resist, turned about and fled. The Emperor obliged to follow him, quitted the field of battle; and the handful of troops that followed M8shur Lass, discouraged by this flight, and tired of the wandering life which they had hitherto led in his service, turned about likewise, and followed the Emperor. M8shur Lass finding himself abandoned and alone, resolved not to turn his back; he bestrode one of his guns, and remained firm in that posture; waiting for the moment of his death. This being reported to Major Carnac, he detached himself from his main with Captain Knox, and some other officers, and he advanced to the man on the gun, without taking with him either a guard, or any Talingas at all. Being arrived near, this troop alighted from their horses, and pulling their caps from their heads, they swept the air with them, as if to make him a salaam; and this salute being returned by M8shur Lass in the same manner, some parley ensued in their own language. The Major, after paying high encomiums to M8shur Lass for his perseverance, conduct, and bravery, added these words: “You have done every thing that could be expected from a brave man, and your name shall be undoubtedly transmitted to posterity by the pen of history. Now loosen your sword from your loins, come amongst us, and abandon all thoughts of contending with the English.” The other answered: “That if they would accept of this surrendering himself just as he was, he had no objections; but that as to surrendering himself with the disgrace of being without his sword, it was a shame he would never submit to; and that they might take his life if they were not satisfied with that condition.” The English Commanders, admiring his firmness, consented to his surrendering himself in the manner he wished; after which, the Major with his officers shook hands with him, in their European manner, and every sentiment of enmity was instantly dismissed on both sides. At the same time, that Commander sent for his own palky, made him sit in it, and he was sent to camp. M8shur Lass, unwilling to see or to be seen, in that condition, shut up the curtains of the palky for fear of being recognised by any of his friends at camp; but yet some of his acquaintances hearing of his being arrived, went to him. These were Mir-abdollah and Mustepha-c8li-qhan. The Major, who had excused him from appearing in public, informed them that they could not see him for some days, as he was too much vexed to receive any company. Ahmed-qhan-coréishi, who was an impertinent talker, having come to look at him, thought to pay his court to the English by joking on the man’s defeat: a behaviour that has nothing strange, if we consider the times in which we live, and the company he was accustomed to frequent; and it was in that notion of his, doubtless, that with much pertness of voice, and air, he asked him this question: And Bibi Lass, where is she? The Major and the officers present, shocked at the impropriety of the question, reprimanded him with a severe look, and very severe expressions. “This man,” they said, “has fought bravely, and deserves the attention of all brave men; the impertinencies which you have been offering him may be customary amongst your friends and your nation, but cannot be suffered in ours, who has it for a standing rule, never to offer an injury to a vanquished foe.” Ahmed-qhan, checked by this reprimand, held his tongue, and did not answer a word. He tarried about one hour more in his visit, and then went away much abashed; and although he was a Commander of importance, and one to whom much honour had been always paid, no one did speak to him any more, or made a show of standing up at his departure. This reprimand did much honour to the English; and it must be acknowledged, to the honour of those strangers, that as their conduct in war and in battle is worthy of admiration, so, on the other hand, nothing is more modest and more becoming than their behaviour to an enemy, whether in the heat of action, or in the pride of success and victory. These people seem to act entirely according to the rules observed by our ancient Commanders, and our men of genius.
Immediately after the battle, the Major sent Shitab-ráy to the Emperor, with offers to live in peace with him, and to pay him a visit; and this was the most advantageous event that could happen. But that Prince, who was defective in discernment, and had a boundless deference for Cam-car-qhan, declined the proposal, and dismissed the envoy. The latter on taking leave foretold, that one day “His Majesty would of himself seek those very terms of pacification which he now refused, and would not find them; or if he found any at all, they would fall short of those now proffered, and would not redound so much to His Majesty’s honour and advantage. Now those men are courting you,” said Shitab-ráy; “but when once they shall have despaired of success, and shall entirely withdraw their thoughts from an agreement, then should you in the sequel apply yourself for it, your Majesty may guess on what terms they will listen to it.” This representation produced nothing; and Shitab-ráy came back to camp. My father arriving with his forces after Shitab-ráy’s departure, highly blamed the Emperor for his having missed so fair an overture, but it was too late; the moment was past. Cam-car-qhan, although vanquished, had still so much stomach for war, that he proposed to make new levies, and to fight once more. Mir-hosséin-qhan, a man of whom mention has been made in Mahmed-c8li-qhan’s history, was of the same opinion with Cam-car-qhan, and breathed nothing but war and battle; but my father made the Emperor sensible, “that Cam-car-qhan was a Zemindar, and that to be endlessly fighting, and flying and flying again, was nothing but the trade he had been bred to; but that such a vagrant life was beneath the dignity of an Emperor, and highly disgraceful to his name; that a sense of shame was very proper; and that Shitab-ráy was not gone so far off, but that he might be sent for again, and his offers accepted.” We shall see in the sequel what effect this discourse made upon that Prince. But he seemed actually as much affected with the affairs of the Empire, as with those of his own camp and person.
The Abdaly-monarch was arrived at Shah-djehan-abad, on the one side, and the Marhattas on the other. The latter had taken possession of the citadel, where they had confined a Prince, called Shah-djehan, who had been set up by the Vezir, Umad-el-mulk; and they had conceived such high-flown projects, that they wanted to place on the throne their own King, Vasvas-ráo, so as to extend their dominion all over Hindostan. It was in these conjectures that the Abdaly came, and being joined by Shudja-ed-döula, and Nedjib-ed-döula, and by the two Rohila Princes, Hafyz-rahmet, and Ahmed-qhan-bangash, he gave those infidels a most destructive defeat.\(215\) But, after a sojourn of Revolution at Delhi; the victorious Abdaly-monarch strongly recommends submission to the Shah-zada, now Shah-aalem. nine months in Hindostan, he returned to Candahar and Herat the capitals of his dominions; and this victory produced a mighty revolution, of which a particular account shall be given whenever we come to speak of what relates to Shah-djehan-abad. The Abdaly-monarch had strongly recommeneded Shah-aalem to Shudja-ed-döula, as well as to all the Afghan Princes, whom he requested to seat that Prince upon the Hindostany throne, and to acknowledge him as their Sovereign. Nor was that Monarch a stranger to the Imperial family; his own consort was sister to Shah-aalem; but besides that, this forlorn Prince, on hearing of his father’s demise, had sent Munnir-ed-döula to him, with a view to obtain his support, as well as his recommendation to the several Powers of Hindostan. So that the Minister who had come with that Monarch to Shah-djehan-abad, availed himself of his weight to negotiate successfully with those Princes themselves, who were then in the Abdaly camp. It was on the Abdaly-king’s instances, that Nedjib-ed-döula had seated in the citadel of that capital, the young Djuvan-baqht, as Deputy to his father, Shah-aalem; and it was on that same Prince’s rocommendation, that Shudja-ed-döula had undertaken to bring up Shah-aalem himself from the frontiers of Bengal; for he had written several supplications to request his returning to his capital, and the latter, tired with the desultory life, and the endless incursions and retreats of Cam-car-qhan’s, had adopted my father’s advice, and had signed a note commanding Shitab-ráy’s return; his intention being to repair first to the English camp, and then to Shudjah-ed-döula’s capital. Shitab-ráy having shewn the note to Major Carnac, was permitted to repair to the Emperor’s camp, where after some conference, it was agreed that the English Commander should pay a visit to that Prince. This concert having given umbrage to Cam-car-qhan, who observed the Emperor’s growing inclination, and how far matters were taking a turn contrary to his disposition of mind, he took his own party at once, and marched off with his troops, taking the shortest road to his own country.
The Emperor after this departure, advanced to a small distance, and encamped near the English army. The next day, which was that appointed for his receiving the visit of the English Commander, he wanted to advance a little more, when Mir-hosséin-qhan, taking it for certain that the English would undoubtelly seize on the Emperor’s person, and confine him, made his escape out of the camp, and fled in earnest, his people crying everywhere, as they were going away, that the Emperor was going to be betrayed into the hands of the Frenghis, by his own Minister, Nassyr-ed-döula Hedaiet-aaly-qhan-bahadyr-assed-djung, (meaning my father); and that whoever had any sense of honour left, ought to quit the army immediately, and follow them. At these words a vast number of senseless men abandoned the Emperor, and followed the fugitives; but as all this disorderly multitude was to pass by the castle of Ticary, where Radja B8niad-sing resided, his people sallied out, and plundered every one of those runaways. Mir-hosséin-qhan made his escape; but the fools that had followed him upon his words, perceiving how matters went, thought themselves very happy to effect their return to the army which they had quitted before. The Emperor at that time was advancing with his troops in battle array towards the English camp, when at about mid-day, the Major made his appearance with his officers, at about half a cosse distance, where pulling The Shah-zada is visited by the English, who recognise his sovereignty. his cap, and putting it under his arm-pit, he advanced in that posture, marching on foot close to the Emperor’s elephant; but the Monarch having commanded him to be mounted, that General got on horseback, and taking his station alone, he preceded the Emperor’s elephant by about an arrow’s shot. My father, on his elephant, followed the Emperor at a very small distance; he was himself armed at all points, and at the head of the Imperial troops, all armed and ready. They marched in that order, until they arrived at the river of Djumni, which flows at one cosse and half distance from Gaya, a spot where the troops were to encamp. There the main of the army, together with the baggage, took post; but the Emperor, at the Major’s request, went a little farther, and entered a tent pitched in a garden surrounded by a grove, close to the town of Gáya. As soon as he had alighted, the Major, accompanied by his officers, by Ram-naráin, by Radja B8ll8b, and by all the principal Commanders of the two armies, paid him his respects, presented him with an entertainment, and offered his nuzur and homage, together with those of all the persons that accompanied him; after this ceremony he offered some presents suitable to the occasion, and worthy of the Emperor’s acceptance. All this while, my forgiven father was on his elephant, with all his troops mounted, and ready in the grove. The Emperor having withdrawn to a private room, my father went into the tent, and paid a visit to the Major and to his officers; and those having saluted him in their mode, received him with honour. After the usual ceremonies of paan,\(216\) atur, and rose-water, my father came out, joined the Emperor, and went to a camp pitched on the banks of the river; and it was nearly midnight before my father could find time to retire to his own quarters, and to take some rest. The next day the Emperor marched again, and took up his quarters at Gáya; and after some days of rest the armies set out again, and marched in concert to Azim-abad, in the neighbourhood of which city they all encamped; the Emperor to the south, on the reservoir or Lake of Muty-p8r; the English at Bauky-p8r, their old winter quarters, westward; Radja Ram-naráin, within the city; and Radja B8ll8b, at Djaafer-qhan’s garden, on the eastern side.
So much concert amongst people that had been fighting together but yesterday, engaged Mir-cassem to hasten his march to Azim-abad, where he encamped on the eastern part of the city, about Djaafer-qhan’s garden, in the middle of his own army. On his arrival he was met by Radja Ram-naráin, and by Radja B8ll8b, who paid their homage to the new Viceroy. The former returned to the citadel, where he lived; the latter, with Miren’s troops, joined those of the Navvab’s. Major Carnac and the English Chiefs wanted to introduce Mir-cassem-qhan to the Emperor; but some negotiation became nccessary on that subject, as the latter was either too suspicious, or too proud to go to the Emperor’s quarters. At last it was agreed that the interview should take place in the English factory, and that the Navvab should pay his respects to the Monarch at that place. The day being come, the English were busy in turning their factory into an Imperial hall of audience, and a couple of those tables, whereon they take their meals, into an Hindostany throne. Nevertheless the throne, as well as the hall, being spread and hung with rich stuffs, assumed a very splendid appearance. Every thing being ready, the Navvab started afresh some objections against my father’s accompanying the Emperor with those crowds of guards and servants that are customary; and the Major having interposed in this also, engaged the Emperor to come with a small retinue only; after which, he repaired himself to the factory, where the English had assembled in great numbers. These, on hearing of the Emperor’s being on his march, set out on foot with the Major at their head, and after meeting the Monarch, they continued to march on foot along with the moving throne\(217\). The Emperor having alighted at the gate of the factory, got into the hall, and took his seat on his throne. The English were all standing to the right and left of it, but the Major received orders to sit; he made a profound bow and took his seat. A little after the other English passed into another Mir-cassem arrives with an army at Azim-abad; and influenced by the English he renders homage to the Emperor. apartment, but it was to come again in order to stand at the foot of the throne. About one hour after, Mir-cassem-qhan came, and after having made his three bows in a respectful manner, he presented a nuzur of one thousand and one eshreffies; and immediately after, he offered to the Imperial acceptance a number of qhoans or trays, covered with precious and curious stuffs, fit for apparel; to which he added a quantity of jewels, and other costly articles. The Emperor accepted his homage, and honoured him with a qhylaat of six pieces, a chaplet of pearls, with a circlet for the head, and an aigrette of jewels adorned by black eagle’s feathers; after which the Navvab made the usual bows, and withdrew into the next room, which was that of Mr. Macguire, the Chief of the factory; and there he discussed the revenues and probable charges of the three provinces; and after some conversation on other matters relative to that object, he agreed to pay His Majesty a yearly tribute of twenty-four lacs of rupees. This being settled, he returned to the presence, was dismissed with every domonstration of regard, and he repaired to his encampment. After his departure, the Emperor having consulted with the English rulers, accepted the offer; after which he, on their request, went to the citadel or castle, where he landed in some buildings called the Imperial palace, and which were affected to crowned heads only. But as Mir-cassem-qhan continued to harbour suspicions against my father, and was not much pleased to see the Emperor’s troops in the citadel, the English interposed again, and obtained of that Monarch, that Séyd-hedáiet-aaly-qhan-bahadyr should not have any intercourse with him in the castle. The Emperor therefore wrote him a note, to desire his remaining in camp amongst the troops, to prevent their dispersing on account of the dissensions that reigned; requesting him at the same time to enlist new levies. But the Navvab was not the only person, that had taken umbrage at him. Ram-naráin, who was Governor of the city and province, was inclined likewise to harbour some apprehensions on his account; and he was uneasy, lest some day or other, an agreement taking place between the Navvab and my father, the Government might slip from out of his hands into those of that nobleman’s. Impressed with such idle ideas, Ram-naráin was assiduous in poisoning the Navvab’s mind against my father, and in fabricating intelligences to which that nobleman had never given cause, and which had never come so much as in his thoughts. Mir-cassem-qhan ever prone to suspicion, and at this particular time somewhat inclined to jealousy, instilled so many notions into the minds of the English, that they sent my father word, requesting his returning to his estate about Rhotas. My father answered, that as he was a servant of the Emperor’s, and actually in his post by the Emperor’s command, he could not without his order, pretend to absent himself. The English, who are men of sense, and naturally lovers of frankness and equity, admitted the propriety of the answer, and sent one of their nation to inform my father that, as to their own part, they had no objections to him at all; but at the same time, they sent word to the Emperor, that it appeared that so long as Séyd-hedáiet-aaly-qhan remained at camp, busy in enlisting new soldiers, Mir-cassem-qhan would never be brought to pay any money, or to fulfil any of the conditions of the treaty; adding, that it was proper that His Majesty should send an order for that nobleman’s retiring upon his estate. The Emperor consented, and sent such an order, as was requested. My father, finding how matters had turned out, went late at night, to take his leave of the Major, and of the English rulers; and the next morning, he took the shortest road to his estate. But his departure did not affect Aaly-naki-qhan, my brother, who had followed my father, and had become Paymaster of the Imperial household; on the contrary, he was now decorated with the surname and title of Fahr-ed-döulah-bahadyr-zaafer-djung,\(218\) and he continued to live with the Emperor in the exercise of his office.
It was at this conjuncture, I chanced to arrive at the English camp at Bankipore, after having been at much pains to obtain by the interposition of the English Chief of Cossim-bazar, permission to quit M8rsh8d-abad; and this happened in the following manner: Some time before Mir-cassem-qhan had hastily quitted Birboh8m, I had returned to M8rsh8d-abad by his leave, where my situation had become very puzzling, as I found it impossible either to get out of that city, or to send, or receive a letter; and meanwhile Major Carnac, as well as Mr. Hay, and the English rulers of Azim-abad, remained in the dark as to what might have become of me. Here it is proper to remember that as Ram-naráin was not sincere towards Mir-cassem-qhan, he wanted to inspire suspicions to the English against him; and as he bore me no good-will neither, he was daily rendering me suspected in that Prince’s mind, either by the suggestions of his own emissaries, or by those of Djagat-seat’s agent; his whole aim being to engage the Navvab to exasperate matters by offering me some ill usage. His brother, Durdj-naráin, at the same time, was acting his part at Azim-abad. Meeting one day Mir-abdollah, my friend, whom he knew to be extremely attached as well as extremely welcome to the English, he whispered into his ear, that his friend, Mir-gh8lam-hosséin-qhan, had been made away with by a dose of poison, by order of the Navvab. This intelligence seemed the more probable as I appeared nowhere, neither at Azim-abad, nor in the Navvab’s camp, who was just arrived; and as no intelligence at all had been received about me, and no one knew where I might be, the intelligence was taken for a certitude. Add to this, that Durdj-naráin had the art to entreat Mir-abdollah to say nothing of the matter, and by all means to conceal his name, that he might come to no harm or that account. But the injunction not satisfying Mir-abdollah the latter imparted the intelligence to my youngest brother, Séyd-aaly-qhan, who, with my consort and family, lived in my house at Azim-abad; and both receiving a shock from this piece of news, the more violent as endeavours were used to smother it, they resolved to inform the English of the whole matter; with the precaution, however, of concealing Durdj-naráin, their author’s name, as he was a Gentoo of consequence, and Mir-abdollah was a retainer of Ram-naráin, his brother. They went, therefore, to the factory,\(219\) and informed Major Carnac and Mr. Hay, that they held the intelligence from a person of great credit. As those two gentlemen had a real attachment to Mr. Amyatt, as well as a rooted aversion to Mir-cassem-qhan’s person, on account of his having been promoted by Vansittart, their antagonist, they were perpetually on the watch for finding the Navvab in fault, in order to throw the blame of it on Vansittart’s shoulders. On hearing therefore the intelligence, their displeasure blazed out into a flame like lightning. They swore, “That if it proved true, that Mir-cassem had murdered a friend and an envoy of theirs, he might depend upon their finding means to exact a severe revenge for his death.” Mir-abdollah, frightened by the violence of their resentment, made use of every supplication, to make them proceed with less precipitation and more secrecy; and he proposed that letters should be written to the English Chief of Cossim-bazar, and to me. As he spoke to men of much sense, although angry, the proposal was easily admitted; and they also wrote a letter to me to inform themselves how matters went, and why I tarried so much. The letter recommended to me, in case of necessity, to apply to the Chief of Cossim-bazar, who was then Mr. Istanluc Batson (Mr. Stanlake Batson), if possible, as to my last resource; they also wrote a letter to the same gentleman, in the character and language of the English, and sent both letters by one of my relations. The arrival of that man, with his letters, filled me with joy, and it procured me the only expedient by which I might extricate myself. I waited immediately upon the Chief of Cossim-bazar, and having got from him a boat, a messenger, and a pass, I arrived safe at Azim-abad, where, God be thanked, I saw my friends again, and found myself once more in my house and home. But yet I was not quite easy, being in doubt whether I ought to visit the Navvab or not, as there subsisted everywhere such a strange appearance of double dealing, and discordance, that I could not help wavering in my conduct. My brother in the castle, and in high office with the Emperor; M8rly-dur and Ram-naráin, in appearance my friends, and in fact, my enemies; myself highly obliged to both, and unable to make a proper return; Mir-cassem-qhan in his heart an enemy to Ram-naráin; the Emperor dissatisfied and uneasy in the castle; the English at variance amongst themselves; Macguire siding with Vansittart and the Navvab; and the Major with Mr. Hay, being closely united with Amyatt, in opposing Vansittart, and also in supporting Ram-naráin against Mir-cassem-qhan: such a confused scene was puzzling. All this while the Radja, sensible of the strong support he would meet with from the Major and Mr. Hay, and their party, dissembled with Mr. Macguire, and paid his protectors an assiduous court, to the great discontent of both the Navvab and Mr. Macguire: and it is for his having entirely neglected these two men, that he saw what he did see, and met with an untimely fate of his own seeking.
As to myself, the poor man, Mir-cassem-qhan disliked me, because I had so many connections with the English; because my younger brother was in such high favour with the Emperor; and because he imagined I had still much intimacy with Ram-naráin, whom he could not bear; he likewise harboured many suspicions against me. And, on the other hand, both Ram-naráin and M8rly-dur, mistrusting in me the very appearance of being Mir-cassem-qhan’s nominal servant, and fearing lest some day I should avail myself of my connections with the English, to dispossess these two men of their Government of Azim-abad, in which I might place my own father, were much inclined to suspect that I was always brewing some mischief. Just at this time, the Navvab having for a purpose of his own, repeatedly expressed a desire to see me, I repeatedly excused myself on a pretence of illness; until finding that he persisted in his instances, I repaired to his quarters. That Prince, on seeing me, went to an inner apartment, where, after endeavouring to soothe my mind, and to win my heart, he proposed to me a voyage to Calcutta. “You are,” said he, “in connection with Mr. Amyatt, the great supporter of Ram-naráin. I wish therefore you would go to Calcutta, and manage so as that he might let go his hold of that man and join me, as I want the Council’s consent for my bringing that Governor under controul, and for my becoming his master, as indeed it is proper I should be.” Such an overture, after what had passed between us, could not but surprise me, although I was not much displeased with its purport. I was myself for a variety of reasons inclined to quit Azim-abad, and to go to Calcutta; but dreaded the consequences of an alteration in Mir-cassem-qhan’s behaviour, and the many suspicions with which his unsteady turn of mind would not fail to plague me, should I ever concern myself in his affairs; the very meddling with them seemed full of dangers. I answered therefore, that I had no objections to my being employed in his affairs, but feared the unsteadiness of his temper, which made him sometimes alter his mind without a sufficient reason. “For instance,” added I, “what was the poor man’s fault at B8dgam, when after having shewn me the utmost kindness and inclination, you turned about at once on the simple insinuation of Djagat-seat’s agent?” After having said so much, I could not help insinuating, that although accusers might attempt to instil suspicions in the heart of a great man, (for which there was no wondering, since such was their professional line) yet that it behoved a master and benefactor to be more careful, and never to disgrace his servants without having probably ascertained their guilt. The Navvab heard all that, and then made use of the strongest assertions, and the most solemn promises, to engage me to be henceforward easy; he made me promise that I would undertake the voyage, and next day he sent me two thousand rupees for my expenses. The matter being now settled, I took leave of my friends, and set out for M8rsh8d-abad, where I arrived in four days, and where I lodged at the house of a relation of mine. As the Navvab had wrote to T8rab-aaly-qhan, his maternal uncle, Governor of M8rsh8d-abad, to inform him of my going down for a service of his, that Governor assisted me expeditiously, in furnishing me with boats, and every thing else I wanted. So that, after a stay of two or three days at M8rsh8d-abad, I arrived safe at Calcutta, where I went to visit Mr. Amyatt, Mr. Gray, and Captain Knox, whom I frequented assiduously, and from whom I learned from time to time all the news of Azim-abad.
The Emperor was still in that city; but whilst he kept himself ready to set out on his journey to his capital, he waited impatiently for the arrival of Munnir-ed-döulah, whom he had sent as his Ambassador to Ahmed-shah, the Abdally-monarch. But that Prince himself had already been invited over by Nedjib-ed-döulah, by Ahmed-qhan-bangash, and by the other Afghan Princes, as well as by Shudjah-ed-döulah himself; and he had resolved to march into Hindostan, as far as its capital, where he intended to extirpate the Marhatta nation; for he had heard with anguish that those infidels had taken possession of the citadel; confined the young Prince, whom the Ministers of his father, Aalamghir the Second, had set up under the name of Shah-djehan; and pretended to no less than to set up their own Monarch in the young Prince’s stead, and to become the sole masters of all Hindostan. With that view he advanced by long marches; and being arrived in the territory of Shah-djehan-abad, he gave the Marhattas several destructive defeats, and then returned to Candahar, his capital, after a severe campaign in India, which lasted full seven months, exclusive of the time he spent in coming and going. On his departure, he strongly recommended to the Afghan Princes, and to Shudjah-ed-döulah, in particular, to respect their lawful Emperor, and to submit to him. It must be observed that during this whole campaign, Munnir-ed-döulah had been residing in the Court of the Abdally-monarch, from whom he had obtained injunctions, to all the Indian Princes, to obey Shah-aalem as their lawful Monarch. Not content with that, the Abdally-conqueror had at his departure strongly recommended submission to all those Princes whom he had assembled in his presence; and it seems that his recommendation had produced a full effect. For as soon as he was gone, Nedjib-ed-döulah established S8ltan Djuvan-baqht in the citadel of Shah-djehan-abad, as Deputy to his father, Shah-aalem; he coined money in the father’s name, and ordered the Qhotbah, or loyal prayer of Friday,\(220\) to be pronounced for his prosperity. Shudjah-ed-döulah did the same on his return to A8d, his capital; from whence he sent sums of that new coin, both in silver and gold, to Shah-aalem, and supplicated his coming, to put himself at the head of his faithful subjects. Suppliques in the same style came at the same time from Ahmed-qhan-bangash, and from Nedjib-ed-döulah, as well as from his Ambassador, Munnir-ed-döulah; all of whom congratulated him upon his accession to the throne of his ancestors. And as these many petitions were in the same style with those of Shudjah-ed-döulah’s, and they came accompanied with sums of money in silver and gold, coined in his name; such a general consent rejoiced the heart of the new Monarch, who now saw how generally he was acknowledged; insomuch that there remained no excuse now, either to the English or to the Navvab, for delaying his departure. The English finding how universally he was expected, took care to make him sign such a treaty as they thought proper, after which they presented him with a sum of money, and some other articles that seemed necessary, and wished him a happy journey. Shah-aalem, after returning his acknowledgments to the Almighty goodness for this flow of success, beat the General, and continued his march towards his capital. This was about the end of Shevval, or the beginning of Zilcaad, in the second year of his accession to the throne, which corresponds to the year A. D.1771-72. 1184 of the Hedjrah. He quitted Azim-abad, and marched towards Shudjah-ed-döulah’s country. But as soon as he had crossed the little river of Keram-nassa, that Prince himself made his appearance, and being admitted to the honour of kissing the columns of the Imperial throne, he presented in token of homage, such an offering in money, precious stuffs, and jewels, as seemed suitable to the occasion; after which he marched to his capital, in company with the Emperor.
This departure having rendered the Navvab easy with respect to the Emperor, he turned his views towards bringing Radja Ram-naráin under his controul. With that view he wrote repeatedly to the Council of Calcutta, and to Governor Vansittart, who had declared himself his protector; and he likewise engaged Macguire to write against Ram-naráin, with whom the latter was himself much displeased. The Navvab took care, at the same time, to keep this new friend steady in his interest, by a variety of favours and presents which he knew how to place. It was in these conjunctures that General Coote arrived at Azim-abad. He had been Major heretofore, and was the man who, by Colonel Clive’s order, had pursued M8shur Lass as far as Bacsar. This officer came of late from Europe, whither he had repaired after that expedition of his; and from whence he came out again with the title of General, and the office of Commander-in-Chief of the English forces. Ram-naráin, ever intent on his own affairs, soon found means to gain him over to his own interest; and he used every day either to fill his ears with senseless rumours, that took their rise amongst the mob, or he was at the trouble of fabricating them himself. One day he sent him word, that Mir-cassem-qhan intended to surprise the English in their cantonments; and to countenance that intelligence, he took care to put his own troops under arms. That officer, struck with the report, sallied before day-break from his camp with a small number of men, and suddenly made his appearance in Mir-cassem-qhan’s quarters, where he found the Navvab asleep, as well as most of his troops; nor did his camp by any means wear the appearance of any preparative, or of any design whatever. Ashamed of his precipitancy, and full of repentance for so inconsiderate an action, he departed immediately, leaving behind an English officer, who had orders, on the Navvab’s rising, to present him the General’s excuses, and to say, “that having come to see him, he had gone back on his finding him fast asleep.” The Navvab had been awakened by this time, and receiving intelligence of this intrusion of the General’s, he was exceedingly displeased at it; and he reprimanded the officer for so improper an action. The officer brought forward all the excuses he could muster, and then departed; but these excuses did not prevent Mir-cassem-qhan from making a handle of this behaviour of the General’s, to complain at Calcutta; and he drew that intrusion in such colours, that the Council disapproved the General’s conduct, and sent him a reprimand. That officer finding now that his behaviour had become public, and that it covered him with shame, concluded that he had no other party left, than that of returning to England. But meanwhile this affair having brought to light some of Ram-naráin’s suggestions and machinations, they gave rise to such a train of consequences as ended in his own ruin.
As I was now at Calcutta these three months, and I had daily intelligence of the contents of Mir-cassem-qhan, now Aaly-djah’s, letters,\(221\) I used to make various attempts to gain Mr. Amyatt’s mind to the cause I had been entrusted with, but always to little or no purpose at all. One day, when I imagined I had gained some ground, he thought proper to open his mind, and to speak very frankly in these very words: “You know Amyatt objects to Mir-cassem, only because the latter is supported by Vansittart. yourself very well,” said he, “that I never had any particular attachment to Ram-naráin, and no kind of inclination for his person. I am not without some objections to him; but as Mr. Vansittart has promoted Mir-cassem-qhan, and has declared himself his protector, it behoves me of course, in consequence of that settled jealousy that subsists between him and me, to side with Mir-djaafer-qhan, and with Ram-naráin. And now that we have on both sides wrote to England, and to the Council of London, on the subject; have both depreciated and accused each other, and are actually vilifying and accusing each other still, every Council-day; matters are come to such a pass, that nothing can settle them, but such a decision from Europe as is expected by both sides; until, then, such a decision is arrived, I cannot turn towards Mir-cassem-qhan; and even did I go so far, such a change of hands would redound to my own dishonour and accusation. Let your master wait therefore the dispatches from Europe. If the decision of London should prove favourable to Mr. Vansittart, the Navvab is too knowing a man to think of minding me; and if it should prove to favour the opposite party, and to trasfer the disposal of affairs into my own hands, then Mir-cassem-qhan will soon find where I shall be; and if he should seek me with sincerity, I shall have no objections to a connection with him.” This conversation having convinced me of Mr. Amyatt’s turn of mind, and of that of his party, I gave full information of it to my constituent; but this did not discourage him. He was supported by Governor Vansittart and his party, and always gained his point with the council; so that at last, he obtained their consent for his bringing Ram-naráin under his controul and dependence, and for obliging him to give an account of his long administration at Azim-abad. As soon as I got information of this important intelligence, I took my leave of Mr. Amyatt, and of my other friends, and I repaired to M8rsh8d-abad, where after a stay of a few days, become necessary for some particular business of my own, I set out, and arrived at Azim-abad. It must be remembered, that Mir-cassem-qhan was not only an able accomptant and a keen discerner of the intricacies of public accounts, but that he had given himself able Ministers who helped him assiduously. After receiving then, from the Council, the consent for which he had applied, he called Ram-naráin to the Controul-office, and examined him about the following articles: “The quantum of the revenues he had hitherto received during his long administration, and the sum total of the expenditures he had made; the monies charged in the books, as paid to the Djaghiry-holders of the Emperor’s Court, and the Navvab’s; and the receipts and vouchers of those disbursements; the sums charged as paid to the troops, with a comparative statement of the reviews made, and of the number of horses marked on the thigh, and borne on the books.” Vouchers and regular accounts of all these, he required of him in the auditing-hall, in the presence of a large number of Ram-naráin’s own officers, and heads of office, with whom he had formed a large circle round that Governor’s person. But as the whole of Ram-narain’s administration and conduct was one continual series of fraud, double-dealing, and artifice, this requisition struck him with concern and astonishment; and he applied to his friends for their support and assistance; but finding them impotent, he repented of the unlimited confidence he had reposed in them, and especially in Major Carnac and Mr. Amyatt, but repented too late. Some of them, who were men of firmness and courage, exhorted him to stand up in his own defence; and some others, who were of a different temper, advised him to submit to his fate, and to become humble. As he had no personal courage or firmness of his own, and the time was come for his receiving his due for the usage which he had offered to so many Mussulman widows, and to so many other defenceless people, he found he had no other party left than that of submitting intirely to Mir-cassem-qhan’s Ram-naráin obliged to submit to the Navvab’s controul. orders. But, first of all, he made some of his principal accomptants abscond with their books. However, this did not prevent the Navvab’s people from soon finding their retreat. Sunder-sing was the first found out, and the first brought away, and put in confinement, under the care of Bereket-aaly, and some other trustees of the Navvab’s Court; and as this confinement brought to light an immensity of embezzlements in that man’s management of the army accounts, and an infinity of frauds and infidelities in the accounts of the Djaghiry-holders, and in the receipts of the public income, severities of course were added to this confinement, and his effects, in money and jewels, were confiscated. But as the man had had the precaution to disperse his fortune in time; and his people, even at the moment of his lodgings being taken possession of, had probably found means to save, through the women’s apartments, and from elsewhere, many articles of high value, no more could be found in his house than about seven lacs in cash, and nearly as much in other effects. But Mansaram-sah8, an eminent banker, in whose house he kept his accounts and effects, was involved in the confiscation, as well as Ganga-bishum, cash-keeper to Sunder-sing; both being accused of concealing his effects. Mighty sums of money were recovered from these two men, and carried to the treasury. Radja M8rly-dur, the head harcara, or head spy, who was Ram-naráin’s associate, and had as much authority in the Government as himself, was put to the torture, as well as Mahmed-aafac, the Cutval, or Inspector of the Police: a Magistrate, who was one of M8rly-dur’s principal satellites, and who carried on his back a load of curses and imprecations from an infinity of defenceless people, whom he had oppressed or ruined. Both these guilty men were obliged to surrender those immense sums which they had been hoarding up for so many years past; and all that went to Mir-cassem-qhan’s treasury. The enquiries overtook Mustepha-c8li-qhan himself, who was brother to Mirza-iredj-qhan, father-in-law to Seradj-ed-döula, (upon whom be God’s mercy!) He was certainly a malicious, ill-natured man, that deserved to be involved in the severities exercised on his friends; but he died in confinement, before he could be examined, and he departed towards those mansions of mercy, prepared by Him to Whom nothing is hidden or impossible. These severities involved Séyd-abdol-aaly-qhan, my paternal uncle, who on the fame of Ram-naráin’s power and influence, had come over from Banares in search of employment, and had very unfortunately chanced to land at Azim-abad, whilst Ram-naráin himself was actually under confinement. This unfortunate man, having fallen, as well as others, under the lash of Mir-cassem-qhan’s resentment, received an order to quit the city, and to return to Banares; in short, the conduct of every one of the prisoners, after being subjected to a variety of chicanery and accusations, underwent a thorough scrutiny; nor could any one be ransomed but by surrendering those sums of money which had been hoarding up these many Immense sums amassed by Mir-cassem-qhan. years past. Mir-cassem-qhan, after having gone through so much inquisitorial business, and having confined Ram-naráin with his associates and dependants, marched through the city with all the pomp imaginable; after which, he took up his quarters in the castle. M8rly-dur was sent prisoner to Djehanghir-nugur-dacca; but Ram-naráin, with all his relations, was kept confined near his palace; and at last they were carried to M8rsh8d-abad.
One of the associates and favourites of that unhappy Governor’s was Ráo-shitab-ráy, who became therefore a partaker of the Navvab’s resentment. He was taken to task; imperious exactors were set over him; and pretences sought everywhere for his ruin. But as he was a man of fortitude and courage, he shut himself up in his house with a few friends, and resolved to risk his life in defence of his honour. This air of vigour had its effect; and for sometime he was not meddled with by the Navvab. Nevertheless, matters went hard with him still; for Mir-cassem-qhan obtained from the Emperor the government of the fortress of Rhotas, with the Imperial Divanship of Azim-abad, and the management of those Djaghiry-lands that belonged to Semsam-ed-döulah, now deceased (all which offices had been in Rai-shitab-ráy’s possession); and it was an account of his management in these offices, that was required of him with so much rigour, and so much chicanery. Luckily for him, that his attachment to the English, and the services he had rendered to that nation in the battle against Qhaden-hassen-qhan, had made such an impression on their gratitude, that they resolved at any rate to have him out of the Navvab’s hand. They interposed therefore so effectually, that it was agreed on both sides, that his affair should be examined and judged by the Council of Calcutta. The Navvab, who reckoned on the Governor’s support, consented; and Shitab-ráy, who trusted to the vigour of his friends, went down with Major Carnac and some others. As nothing could be proved against him, and he was greatly esteemed by the English, the Governor and Council contented themselves with ordering that he should quit the Navvab’s dominions. Shitab-ráy wanted no better; and he returned up to Azim-abad, in company with Mr. Ellis and Mr. Lushington, two persons who had been appointed Chief, and second, of the factory in that city. Mr. Lushington, in particular, who had a high regard for Shitab-ráy, taking a whole battalion of Talingas with him, escorted him by the way of Chapra, and Saarun, until he saw him across the river Sordj8, which also goes by the names of Deva and Gagra, and forms the boundary between the provinces of Azim-abad, and that of A8d. Mr. Lushington, after having seen him safe in Shudja-ed-döulah’s dominions, parted with him, and returned to Azim-abad.
The Navvab, by such means as these, and such confiscations, as well as by the order and regularity he introduced in every branch of the administration, and especially in the finances, came to be possessed of an immense hoard of ready money. But there remained a relation of Ram-naráin’s, and it was Mansaram, who was actually collecting the revenues of the country of Tir8t, on the other side of the Ganga. Mir-mehdi-qhan, who was a near relation of the Navvab’s, having been appointed Fodjdar of that district, Mansaram, who was equally brave and thoughtless, put himself upon his defence, was killed in an engagement, and by his death put an end to the dispute. Mir-cassem-qhan, after having introduced order in his finances, and subordination in his dominions, turned his views towards providing for his defence. He was amassing and manufacturing as many guns and flint-muskets as he could, with every necessary for war.\(222\) Gurghin-quan, the Armenian, was the man proposed to that particular branch; he was the principal General of his troops, and the trusty confidant of his heart; nay, the Navvab seemed to have sold himself to him totally. But he had also several other Generals besides, whether Hindostanies or foreigners, every one of whom he had appointed to some particular branch. The most illustrious and most considerable amongst the latter was, Mahmed-taky-qhan, the Tabrizian, of Coozza-calan,\(223\) whom he had appointed Fodjdar Mir-cassem provides himself with several able Generals. of Birbohom, with orders to raise men, but to discipline only such as might prove able-bodied and serviceable. The man attached himself so heartily to his task, that he attracted a general admiration. He raised a body still more numerous and better composed than he had been directed; and he applied himself so assiduously in arming, and exercising them in mock-engagements and in daily manœuvres, that he approved himself superior to those of his rank; it being acknowledged that no one would have discharged that office with so much abilities as he did. This officer had the qualities of a Commander-in-Chief, and did richly deserve that high employment; much better at least, than such a cloth-seller by the yard, as was Gurghin-qhan. Had he commanded in the day of battle, as did Gurghin-qhan,\(224\) he would have preserved his honour and character; nor had the engagement ended as it did; Although he had but a small force, and his measures were thwarted by the jealousy of Séyd-mahmed-qhan, the Deputy Governor of M8rsh8d-abad, and by the refractory behaviour of several Commanders, such as Sheh-háibet-ollah, Aalem-qhan, and Djaafer-qhan, all of whom were enjoined to obey his commands in the first battle against the English, and all of whom disobeyed his orders. His conduct and name have been inscribed on the leaves of the historical page. As for Gurghin-qhan, his elevation seemed to have taken place, on purpose to demolish and to overthrow Mir-cassem-qhan’s power and grandeur. But this observation escaped his master; or if it did not, he was purblinded by his destiny, as we shall shew in the subsequent part of this history.
If Mir-cassem-qhan was assiduously busy in providing the necessaries for war, he was no less attentive in whatever could contribute to introduce regularity in the state, and subordination and punctuality amongst the Zemindars. The principal amongst them therefore were ordered to attend at Court. This order gave umbrage to Cam-car-qhan, who feared to be called to an account for his attachment to the Emperor, as well as for the arrears due by his Zemindary to the treasury of the province; and he retired with his troops into the mountains of the Ramgur. But Buniad-sing, and Fateh-sing, who trusted to the merit of having forborne to join the Emperor, and of having always lived in the Courts of the preceding Governors, readily obeyed the summonses, and were put under confinement. So mild a treatment could not be expected by Pahluvan-sing, and the other Zemindars of the Sercar, or province of Shah-abad, who all go by the name of Bodjp8riahs. Those men, fearful of being taken to task for their attachment to Ram-naráin, and called to an account for their robberies and violences of all kinds, did not obey the order, but put themselves upon their defence. The Navvab, who had determined with himself to demolish all the ancient men of consequence in these provinces, but, above all, to extirpate the Zemindars that should prove refractory; and who intended to ruin all their castles and strongholds, sent first of all his own nephew, Aaly-qhan, to take possession of Cam-car-qhan’s country. He afterwards associated to him Assed-ollah-qhan, son to Mir-hosséin-qhan, a man little scrupulous in shedding blood; after which dispositions, he determined to depart himself for Saharseram and the districts of Shahabad.
It was just in these conjunctures I arrived at Azim-abad from my journey to Calcutta, and I visited the Navvab in Doctor Fullarton’s company, a man who was a great friend of mine, as well as in high favour with that Prince. He received me with distinction, and spoke with the utmost kindness; but as I had tarded very much in my voyage, he seemed really to be somewhat displeased, and he expressed his discontent in some complaints. I brought several excuses forward, which he seemed to accept, but being never without some suspicion or other in his mind, I perceived that he was not really satisfied, and that there lurked in his heart some particle of discontent. It was about this time, likewise, that my father resolved, on his side, to pay a visit to the new Navvab. He had observed that his estate, which although mostly acquired by purchase, is deemed a Djaghir, was seated in the Navvab’s dominions, and, of course, at the Navvab’s mercy; and as he was resolved to live henceforward upon that estate, and to avoid the troubles of the busy world, it became incumbent upon him to be upon some terms with one in whose dominions he was to spend his days. He therefore expressed his desire to Mirza\(225\) Shems-eddin, an intimate friend of his, and a favourite of the Navvab’s. Mir-cassem-qhan, who remembered how inferior to my father he had been, and yet was conscious of that superiority of rank and dignity, so undeniable in his visitor, to which he would be obliged by the rules of decency to pay an adequate regard, declined the interview under some pretence; and when at last he consented, it was on such conditions as strongly evinced the difference he conceived between a reigning Navvab, and a disgraced Prime Minister. My father, on the other side, on hearing of the high pretensions of Mir-cassem-qhan’s, was disgusted, and he repented of his having come so far as Azim-abad. Luckily that I was myself in that city. As soon as I heard of this misunderstanding, I went to my father, and prevailed upon him not to stand upon the etiquette, but to put up with the pride and pretensions of Mir-cassem-qhan’s, as a necessity to which the times strongly pointed. The representation had its effect; and he submitted to them. But when the interview came to take place, it happened that the Navvab himself overawed the aged appearance of his noble visitor, and by a sudden recollection of his former greatness, at once receded from his own pretensions, although they had been submittted to; and getting up from his Mesned of State, he advanced some steps, embraced him as an equal, made him sit close to himself on that same Mesned, and took care to express himself in such respectful terms, as might pour a stream of Mir-cassem receives the author’s father in the most respectful manner. gladness over the old nobleman’s heart. The visit having lasted some time, my father got up, and was dismissed with the utmost honour and deference. The Navvab granted him his request with the best grace, and ever after made it a point to shew him the utmost regard and respect.
Whilst I was rejoicing at this pleasing prospect, I was suddenly called up by my ill fortune. I was one day sitting in Mir-abdollah’s house, when a chopdar, or mace-bearer, came from the Navvab, commanding my attendance. I hastened thither, and was conducted to an inner apartment, where that Prince was sitting alone. “I want,” said he, “something from you.” “What can it be,” answered I, “that should be in my power to give to your Highness? Whatever be in Bagdad, is always at the Qhaliff’s command.”\(226\) Let us have, said the Navvab, your Djaghiry estate at Monghyr, that I may confer it, together with that fortress, on Gurghin-qhan, who is to go thither, in order to put it in a state of repair. Your lands are close to the fossé; and it is ten to one, but that your agent will be daily laying complaints against his agent, as the latter will not fail to do against the former. Now, I wish to be rid of all that beforehand. I will give you, in exchange, a better estate than that. I answered, “That he might do what he thought best for his affairs; that I wanted only a subsistence, which he might easily afford; and that, if it should be his pleasure to give, and my good fortune to receive, some other lands in exchange, it would be necessary to write to Radja Radj-b8llub, who, since Ram-naráin’s confinement, was Deputy Governor of Azim-abad.” The Navvab promised it, but yet put me off with some vague promises, and in a few days he departed for Saharseram and Bodjep8r; nor did the exchange take place. So that I became extremely embarrassed for a subsistence; and as I was deeply in debt, and utterly destitute of camp equipage, I could not make the campaign with him. Doctor Fullarton, and some other friends, supplicated him for what was due to me upon my pay, but he only answered by a very well, and never thought of it any more. Fain I was to remain at Azim-abad, whilst he departed for Saharseram.
He was at the head of an army as numerous as the multitude at the Day of Judgment;\(227\) but as Pahluvan-sing, with the other Zemindars of the country of Shah-abad, did not dare to stand their ground, they crossed the Ganga and fled to Ghazipoor, where they built themselves habitations in the dominions of Shudjah-ed-döulah, and in the territory of Radja Balvant-sing, Zemindar of Banares. Their lands were taken possession of by the Navvab, who placed his own collectors in each Zemindary, and supported them by strong bodies of troops; whilst he remained, himself, all the while, at his head-quarters of Saharseram, as if to give full scope to the anxieties of his mind. His temper, naturally suspicious, rendered him anxious about diving into the secrets of families, and especially in those of great men; and on that account he spent great sums in procuring intelligence, taking care to give much authority to Radja S8ck-laal,\(228\) his head-spy, who by the means of the numbers he retained in his pay, furnished him with minute intelligence concerning every man in his service, high or low, and especially about whatever concerned the Zenindars; not omitting even the inhabitants of the cities. But the greatest evils arose from the intelligence conveyed by Nann8-mull, the spy, who having already made his apprenticeship in Qhadum-hassen-qhan’s service, at P8raniah, as professed delator to the ruin of an infinity of persons, had now attached himself to Gurghin-qhan; and being a man of a malignant disposition, he continued the same trade with the Navvab. Unfortunately this man, who had enmities and feuds of his own, spread desolation in an infinity of families; for Gurghin-qhan listened to Nann8, whilsh the Navvab listened to Gurghin-qhan. What is more mortifying is, that the wretched man was exceedingly revengeful; and when once he had conceived sentiments of hatred against any one, they would sink a deep root in his diabolical heart, never to be extirpated hereafter; nor was such a disposition much dissimilar to that of his master; and here is a proof of it: Kelb-aaly-qhan, and Háider-aaly-qhan, sons to Ala-c8li-qhan, Fodjdar of Bagalpore, were found fault with for having been in the engagement against the Radja of Gohrec-p8r, where Mir-abul-hassen-qhan, who was son to T8rab-aaly-qhan, the Navvab’s maternal uncle, had chanced to be slain. Another reason of resentment against them was, their having made a visit to General Coote, on his journey to Azim-abad, on the score of their having already commenced an acquaintance with that officer, when he first passed by Bagalp8r, in his pursuit of M8sher Lass. This interview had made a very heavy impression on the Navvab’s mind; and he sent orders to Radja Radj-b8ll8b, his Deputy Governor of Azim-abad, to put them both under confinement. He had now inured himself to the sufferings of defencless people, and was grown bold by the murder of Sitaram and Sheh-saad-ollah, and by the forbearance of the English; for those two unfortunate men, together with their father, remained in all the miseries of confinement, so long as his dominion lasted. What looks strange is, that the satellites, sent by Radja Radj-b8ll8b, to fetch those ill-fated brothers, having met me by chance on the road, surrounded by my customary retinue, they mistook me for their prey, and desired me to follow them; and although I expostulated strongly, they answered nothing to the purpose; and I was fain to go whethersoever they thought proper to lead. They carried me to Radja Radj-b8ll8b. This Governor, on hearing my name and family, was confounded; he professed much concern, made an apology, and dismissed me. I returned thanks to God, and went home. But how shall I express that variety of painful sensations, to which I became a prey, in that single hour? May God Almighty never permit any one of His creatures to become an object of inquiry to tyrants, accustomed to frighten mankind; or if any unfortunate people should become such objects of persecution, may His goodness please to send them a quick delivery from the intricacies of the net of suspicion! Amen, O! Almighty God.
So suspicious a government soon interrupted all social intercourse; and people, accustomed to a certain set of actions, and acquaintances and visits, now found themselves under the necessity of abandoning them at once, and of living at home Mir-cassem obliged to suspect every one, interrupts all social intercourse. altogether. It was some months before this confinement, that the Navvab had taken to task Radja Sitaram himself, a Minister who transacted a great deal of important business. This man, mistaking so far his master’s temper, as to think him as neglectful and conniving as the former Viceroys, forgot himself entirely, and, in imitation of all the penmen, and of all the heads of office, who used to exact exorbitant fees, and to carve for themselves, he put suitors under heavy contributions, and made it a practice, in every business that passed through his hands, to exact money at his pleasure, and to transform equity into injustice, and injustice into justice. Another person of consequence fell under the Navvab’s displeasure. It was Sheh-saad-ollah, a Commander, who, under Ram-naráin’s administration, had often been sent amongst the restless Zemindars of the districts of Shah-abad, where he had acquired much local knowledge of the country, was concerned in most of its branches of revenue, commanded actually in some districts, and kept up a deal of correspondence with the Zemindars, now residing at Ghazip8r. This man making no difference between the past and present times, continued his correspondence with them, and to all appearance, made use of some expressions that gave offence to the Navvab, a Prince who was minutely informed of every thing of consequence that happened in his service; for he had actually in his pay two or three head-spies, every one of whom had been, in times of yore, a man of importance in the household of some mighty Minister or mighty Sovereign of Hindostan, where he had the authority to inform and to advise. Every one of these was now at the head of several hundreds of spies, whose business was to pry into the secrets of every family, and into the actions of every man, whether in the Navvab’s service or not. These men being accustomed to accusations, and trusting to the facility of a denial always in their power, and to a lie always at their command, were stopped by no scruples at all; and they made no distinction of either times or persons. But these men were accused in their turn. They were arrested, and put to a severe scrutiny; and being found guilty, they were punished as well as others. Indeed, I never could find the particular guilt of any one of them; whenever I come to be informed of it, I shall mention it in the subsequent pages. But I hold it from the mouth of several persons worthy of credit, that not one of those five persons had committed any such crime as might have deserved death; they even added, that every one of them had fallen a victim to conjecture and suspicion. Sheh-saad-ollah, in particular, was found fault with for his attachment to Mir-djaafer-qhan, and for his holding correspondence with the fugitive Zemindars. Sitaram, likewise, had written some letters to a Zemindar, in one of which he gave him information of the day in which the Navvab would set out; and, it was concluded, that the advice was given with intent to put him upon his guard; nay, the very corresponding with the fugitive Zemindars was reputed a crime; nor was the guilt of the three head harcaras, or spies, of any other nature. They were then put to death upon bare suspicion; their guilt did not amount to more. Five executions of that importance, spread far and near such a dread of the Navvab’s resentment and exactitude, and it took so much possession of all hearts, that there was no man in his Court, however considerable, who durst speak a wrong word, or who, whether near or far, could sleep in his bed easy and in peace of mind. It must be observed, that in the treaty concluded between the Navvab and the English, it had been stipulated that he should have an absolute authority over all his servants, Indians or others, without being liable to any question on that subject. Nevertheless, as capital punishments are actions of such a mighty nature, letters came from the Council, asking the reason of those persons being put to death, and requesting an answer. The Navvab, to prepare his answer, sent to Doctor Fullarton, and to two or three English friends of his, some letters of Sheh-saad-ollah’s, and of the others which had been laid hold of by him, as a ground for their being put to death; and he requested their being translated into English. As the Doctor was as much attached to me, as I was to him, he put those letters into my hands, for my opinion. On casting my eyes upon one of them, I found that there were erasures, and corrections, although done with a deal of art, and on that account I concluded that, possibly, the writer’s death had some other secret cause. I conjectured that letters might have been written after the death of those men, and sealed with their seals, containing whatever their enemies had been pleased to insert. Some of these erasures and\(229\) corrections I shewed to Doctor Fullarton; but I cannot say whether the letters themselves were forwarded to the Council or not; nor in what manner the Navvab excused his putting those men to death; nor in what light those excuses were received.
Mir-cassem-qhan, being now rid of this affair, undertook to visit the fortress of Rhotas.\(230\) He sent notice of his design to Nessar-aaly-qhan, the Governor, whom he had placed himself, as well as to Saho-mul, whom he had appointed to be his Deputy; and, as my father was then at Saharseram, upon a visit to the Navvab, the latter took the old nobleman with him in his survey of that famous fortress. He had also in his retinue Séyd-aaly-qhan, my younger brother, whom he had taken in his service, on Mr. Macguire’s recommendation, whilst I was in Calcutta; and he now gave service, likewise, to my youngest brother, Ghalib-aaly-qhan, on my father’s recommendation. Naky-aaly-qhan, my third brother, who was younger than me by some years, but older than the two others, had been several times desired by the Navvab to take service with him; but he had constantly declined it, contenting himself with enjoying the small share allotted him in the family estate. The Navvab, after having amused himself with viewing the fortress, returned to Saharseram, where he dismissed my father to his estate; and he put under confinement Saho-mul, the Deputy Governor of Rhotas, as well as Naky, the Imperial Colonel, who was for a long time in garrison there. Mir-cassem-qhan, having in this manner arranged the affairs of the province of Shah-abad, appointed Mir-mehdi-qhan, a nephew of Assed-ollah-qhan’s, to command in the districts of Saharseram and Cháin-p8r, comprising under his management, the several Zemindaries in Seress, and Cotombah, from whence their owner, Beshen-sing, had fled to Banares. But to insure the repose of the country, he ordered Sheh-mahmed-acbar-qhan, the Lucnovian, a Commander of character, to attend the new governor, recommending to him to keep a watchful eye on the machinations of the fugitive Zemindars, and especially on Pahluvan-sing, a man that might endanger the tranquillity of the whole country. Somro, an European,\(231\) was stationed at Bacsar, with three or four regiments of disciplined Talingas, and some pieces of cannon; but Mir-roshen-aaly-qhan, the Paymaster, had his station at Bohodjp8r, with his whole brigade of horse and foot. After these dispositions, he took a circuitous view of the country of Mug, which contains the districts of Seress, Cotoombah, Arval, Ticary, Bahar, and Paluch, with some other parts; and then marched to Monghyr. But before setting out for the latter town, he sent for Radja Radj-b8ll8b, Deputy Governor of Azim-abad, and put him under a safe confinement in his camp; after which, trusty persons were sent to confiscate his property at Djehanghir-nugur-dacca. In his stead, Radja Nobet-ráy was invested with the qhyllat of Azim-abad, and sent to take care of that province and city. As soon as he had dispatched the new Governor’s instructions, he set out himself on A. D. 1762 the fifteenth of Zilhedj, in the year 1175 of the Hegira, and made his entry in the citadel with the utmost pomp and magnificence; after which he ordered the walls and fortifications to be put in the best repair, with some improvements. As to the buildings, he not only ordered the old ones to be put in a complete repair, but he directed additional ones to be erected, in which he took up his abode, living with such state and authority, and shewing such a firmness of command, as struck every one with awe and admiration. But all this, however, did not conduce to his domestic happiness; he found himself stinted in his enjoyments. As since his accession to power, he had procured a number of fine young women, he could not help being grievously vexed at finding a great alteration in his virile powers. These were in a little time so much impaired, as to become an object of surprise to himself; so that he sought everywhere a remedy to that heavy misfortune, as he called it. The most renowned physicians held consultations together, and prescribed a variety of remedies, but all to no purpose; when one day some unknown man put into his hand a receipt of such amazing efficacy, that it seemed to have recalled in him all the powers of the most fervent youth. The Navvab having found a singular benefit from the receipt, proposed it to some of his favourites, who likewise found their youthful vigour recalled and recruited; a circumstance of which I have heard some of them talk with wonder and transport. After this little anecdote, let us revert to our narrative.
Mir-cassem-qhan, having given the necessary orders for the citadel of Azim-abad, repaired to Monghyr, which town he made the centre of all business, and the capital of his dominions. There he applied himself closely to the affairs of Government, for most of which he had a particular turn of mind; and as a regard to truth is so great a requisite in an historian, and impartiality is so valuable a quality in those that record the events of the age, and enumerate the actions and words of men of eminence, we, in compliance with the well-known verse,—
| “You have pretty much descanted on his bad qualities; tell us now of his good ones.” |
I shall proceed now to set down, with the pen of truth, whatever else we know by ourselves, or have heard from others on this very eminent character, and indeed, it must be, acknowledged, that although the perpetual treasons, and endless- duplicities, which he had been seeing throughout so many preceding administrations, had soured his temper; and the perpetual infidelities of the troops, as well as of the Commanders and Grandees of Bengal, had rendered him exceedingly supicious, and ever prone to confiscation of properties, confinement of persons, and effusion of blood; nevertheless, it was acknowledged on all hands, that he had admirable qualifications that balanced his bad ones. In unravelling the intricacies of affairs of Government, and especially the knotty mysteries of finance; in examining and determining private differences; in establishing regular payments for his troops, and for his household; in honouring and rewarding men of merit, and men of learning; in conducting his expenditure, exactly between the extremities of parsimony and prodigality; and in knowing intuitively where he Great abilities of Mir-cassem. must spend freely, and where with moderation—in all these qualifications—he was an incomparable man indeed, and the most extraordinary Prince of his age. In imitation of the ancient Sovereigns of this country, he used to sit in a public hall of audience, two days in the week, where he examined by himself the pretensions of suitors, and unravelled their respective subterfuges; and although he did not pronounce sentence, but after having asked the opinions of the persons preposed to matters of justice and law, yet it was always upon his own judgment. He ordered the plaintiff and the defendnat to come close to him, listened to their allegations with attention, and sometimes confirmed the sentence of the Judges; nor was any man daring enough in his Court, to touch a bribe, or to speak in behalf of an unjust pretension, or to sink any man’s right or due, or to throw any doubt upon it. The poor, defenceless landholders, who in the administration of a Djanki-ram, and a Ramnaráin, had been dispossessed of their villages and hereditary estates, by the rapacious violence of short-sighted Zemindars, found now that the day of redress was come for them. Those that had vouchers, were admitted to a probation; and those that had not, were admitted to an affidavit, from the most ancient inhabitants of the spot, corroborated by the attestations of the Cazy and Mufty of that district. After their right had been ascertained, they received their dismission with suitable orders to the respective Zemindars and men in power; and mace-bearers were sent with them to see the oppressed reinstated in their estates, and the defenceless righted in their grievances. He was equally attentive to objects of a more public nature. The numerous ornaments, in gold and silver, that had once adorned Seradj-ed-döulah’s Imam-bara,\(232\) and had been heretofore melted into coin, to the amount of several lacs, were now taken notice of; and the whole sum, with a great deal more besides, was, by his order, repaid to the Séyds,\(233\) to the necessitous and the needy. In these charitable distributions, he always made use of the channel of His Highness Sheh-mahmed-aaly-hazin, chiefly; and occasionally of Mir-mahmed-aaly-fazyl, and Sheh-mahmed-hassen, and Zair-hasséin-qhan, and of some other pious persons of that note; all men renowned for their knowledge and exemplary life. The original of the poesies of His Highness Sheh-mahmed-aaly-hazin had been purchased at a high price by the former administration, but not paid; and, on being informed of it, he ordered the payment to be made good from his own treasury, assigning to that illustrious man at the same time, a pension that administered to all his wants; for he reckoned it amongst the felicities of his administration, to have chanced to pay for that precious collection. His regard for the author was no less conspicuous. Whenever that illustrious man came to see him, there was always a Mesned spread for him close to his own, and he used to get up, and to advance some steps, and to bow to him with the utmost respect and modesty. He listened with attention to whatever he had to say, and thought it an honour to approve himself obedient to his commands, being proud of granting his demands with the best grace imaginable. He paid likewise a high regard to the virtuous men mentioned above, putting his ambition in keeping them satisfied to the utmost of their wishes. As to the payment of his troops, he was so exact, and so regular, that I do not recollect to have heard a single complaint on that head. The truth is, that his exactitude and keeness were so dreaded, that no one dared to impose a false muster upon him, or to withhold any one soldier’s due.
As to myself, if I did not make a fortune under his administration, it must be attributed either to my bad conduct, or to my bad luck. After having already spent a long time in Azim-abad, in great distress and difficulties, I was once apostrophised by Doctor Fullarton in these words: “My Lord Qhan, why do not you go to Monghyr, to try your fortune?” “Because,” said I, “I am not satisfied with Mir-cassem-qhan’s sincerity.” “And should he please to injure you here,” replied he, “who can protect you? Better for you then to go at once to him. Possibly, on seeing you, he shall give you some employment. As for us, Mr. Ellis has informed you, that we dare not meddle in any thing, or protect any one, especially such a one as you, who are reputed the Navvab’s servant, and whose case, on that account, admits not of your being protected openly.” These few words struck me. Finding that what the Doctor said was founded on truth, I set out for Monghyr, and paid a visit to the Navvab. This Prince received me, not only with kindness and distinction, but he spoke to me with as much familiarity as if I had been one of his intimates or favourites. At the second visit, he seemed not so much as to know any thing of me. I was so confounded at his coldness, and so nettled at this reception, that I pronounced for my protection the fine words;\(234\) and for a month together, I recited that prayer, which begins with these words, and has been put in verse by Sheh-mahmed-aaly-hazin (whom God may place amongst the highest of his elect!) My reading ended about the third of the month Zilhidje, the forbidden.\(235\) The intent was, that God Almighty should be pleased to protect me from the Navvab’s ill-will, and to procure me some benefit from his power. And a strange and admirable effect did the prayer produce! I was in the nightly assembly on the first day of Muharrem; the Navvab, of his own motion, called me, made me sit close to himself, spoke a great deal to me, and continued keeping up the conversation, until the assembly broke up late at night. The second day, being again in the assembly, as usual, I took care to choose my seat at a great distance from him, sensible, that his demonstrations of kindness were not to be trusted, and that his favour itself had no stability. But he soon found me out; and sending for me, he made me sit so near his person, that I touched his clothes. Not satisfied with that, he added these words: “I desire you to sit down every night close to me in this manner. And pray, why did you not tell me of your circumstances and distress?” I answered, that His Sublime Highness knew them very well. “How should I?” replied he. “I have not the science infuse.” I shall inform your Highness, answered I. He rejoined, “when?” After the ten days of mourning shall be over. “Pray,” said he, “what wordly business is ever at a stand during these sacred days, that your own should be on that account suspended?” I replied, that there was no speaking about one’s private affairs in so much company; and that it was not customary to address people of his rank on business, in these days. “Is that the etiquette?” said he. “Then come to-morrow, with your paper, at day-break.” At day-break then I was ready with my paper in my hand; it was in general terms. On reading it, he presented me with a sum of five thousand rupees, in free gift; ordered that all the arrears of my salary should be paid to the last of the present month; commanded that, henceforward, I should be paid every month without fail, and desired me to see him every second day. He, at the same time, permitted my middle brother, Ghalib-aaly-qhan, to visit him once a week; and my youngest brother, Séyd-aaly-qhan, once in a fortnight; but as soon as the young man was gone, he directed the Superintendent of his hall of audience, to deny him admittance, under some plausible pretence or other. The reason was, that he had seen him very familiar with the English; and that he suspected, that as he was quite young, and incapable to make any distinction of times, and place, he might be prevailed upon to serve them as their spy; whereas, he looked upon me to be a man of discretion and experience; a man capable of concealing his secrets, (should any of them come to my knowledge) and of rendering a service upon an emergency; else, in other respects, he did not doubt at all of my being another such a man as that brother of mine. Insomuch, that although I had found such an opening in his mind, yet, to continue long to live upon good terms with him, was rendered extremely difficult, by my known connections with the English, and by the continual alarms which they occasioned in his mind. But, indeed, no man was secure in his service. Nuzur-aaly-qhan, son to Gholam-hosséin-qhan, and Superintendent of the hall of audience to the late Aaly-verdy-qhan, had been to this day (God knows by what good luck, and for what intent) continued in the same office, as Daroga to Mir-cassem-qhan’s Divan-qhana, that is, as Introductor-general. But now, that office was given to another; and it proved to be to one Sheh-abdollah, who had been lately in Djagat-seat’s service, but had formerly served Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan himself, as writing-master, whose business should be to correct the hand of Séyd-aaly-qhan, my younger brother, to whom that Prince intended to give his daughter in marriage. This man was promoted to that office at Gurghin-qhan’s recommendation; and Nuzur-aaly-qhan, not only lost his office, but was sent into confinement, to make him refund those sums of money which his father had amassed in his time under former Princes. A few days before this dismission, T8rab-aaly-qhan, maternal uncle to the Navvab, had been dismissed from his office of Deputy Governor of M8rsh8d-abad; and his post was given to Séyd-mahmed-qhan, a man born in Bagdad, and who was a relation to Mir-cassem-qhan, by his being a brother to his grandfather, Imtiaz-qhan. Asker-aaly-qhan, son to the forgiven Séif-ollah-qhan, once Viceroy of Tatta, was promoted to the command of the Radj-shahi, a rich district in the province of Bengal. As to T8rab-aaly-qhan, he repaired to Monghyr, where he lived in his nephew’s court.
It was whilst these changes were taking place at Court, that the Navvab was planning an expedition against the Zemindar of Betia. The command of it was given to Bahadyr-aaly-qhan, son to Mirza-davar-c8li-beg, who had been for a long time Grandmaster of Artillery to Aaly-verdy-qhan, and now enjoyed a small part of that office under Mir-cassem-qhan. He had with him several Commanders with their corps, together with some pieces of cannon in the English fashion, and some regiments of Talingas, disciplined by Gurghin-qhan. His orders were to take the fortress of that name, and to chastise the Zemindar of that country, who had proved unruly. It was at this time also, that several titles of houour were sent by the Emperor to Mir-cassem-qhan, on his solicitation; however, although he pretended not only to an equality with Shudjah-ed-döulah, but even to a superiority over this last, who was a powerful Prince, so as to bear the title of Vezir of the Emperor of India, and the surname of Assef-djah,\(236\) yet, he could obtain from the throne, no more than the titles of Eshref, and Aaly, which signify most noble and most high, with the grade of seven thousand horse. All these dignities and titles were received in the beginning of the year 1176; and from henceforward, the title of Navvab Aaly-djah becoming the style of the Court, Mir-cassem-qhan ceased to be designed by any other appellation.
A little after this inauguration, the world saw with surprise, one of those strange events, for which there is no accounting, but by supposing a destiny that brings them to pass infallibly. Sheh-abdollah, the very man lately promoted to the office of Superintendent of the hall of audience, having got into the Navvab’s private closet, infermed him that Mahmed-aaly, with Bereket-aaly, and Fer-had-aaly, his nephews, “who were principal Commanders in the army, and owed their promotion to His Highness, had entered into a secret agreement with Gurghin-qhan, which had been confirmed by the most tremendous oaths on the both sides. That as His Highness very well knew how high was that General’s influence over the civil, as well as the military, department, he, his devoted servant, had thought it incumbent upon his zeal to give that information, to put it in his power to provide for it properly.” The Navvab, amazed at such a piece of information, and unwilling to give it an implicit belief, waited till the evening, the time when Gurghin-qhan used to come and to make his bow; and he then imparted the information to him in a low tone of voice, putting several questions at the same time. Gurghin-qhan, who could not deny what he had done, took at once the part of acknowledging the charge, and moreover, of boasting of it. “I have done all that,” added he, in a higher tone of voice, “and we have bound ourselves to each other by the most solemn oaths. But for what? For your own preservation, and that of your power; and whoever has poisoned that transaction in your mind, is an enemy to you, and a secret traitor, who is endeavouring to undermine the power, to which God has raised you.” As the informer had been a length of time in Djagat-seat’s service, that is, of a man whose family was strongly suspected of disaffection, it was easily conjectured that he had been only made a tool of; and that the intent of the information secretly conveyed, under the mask of zeal, was no other than to render Gurghin-qhan, and the principal Commanders suspected, so as to bring them under some disgrace that might occasion a disaffection throughout the troops, and render the army fit for being worked upon by emissaries. At any rate, however, Gurghin-qhan’s favour and influence had not taken so slight a root, as to be affected by the information and the malevolence of such a man as Sheh-abdollah. This diturbance seemed to introduce another, which occasioned the disgrace of a young man of Pendjab, who was reputed the best archer, and the stoutest man throughout the whole army. His name was Rahim-ollah-qhan-péni. It is supposed that he had got acquainted with one of the principal women in Bengal, who put it in his power to purchase a fine horse, for no less a sum than three thousand rupees. Not that he was really in love with her; for, in fact, he was passionately fond of Shukur-ollah-qhan, alias Aga-baba, son posthumous of Ser-efraz-qhan, a young man now under confinement at Djehanghir-nugur, and who, I know not for what reason, was extremely suspected by Mir-cassem-qhan, to whom he now and then sent petitions, requesting a release from his confinement. The man’s servant used, together with these petitions, to bring letters to the Navvab’s principal Ministers. Rahim-ollah-qhan, meeting the above servant in his way, carried him home, and gave him a lodging. The Navvab, hearing of these matters, ordered the archer to be brought to the presence; but as this archer lodged with Abdol-ress8l-qhan, a famous officer, brother to the illustrious Dost-mahmed-qhan, this summons disturbed the whole family; and Abdol-ghani-qhan, the eldest son of that officer, exhorted his father, as well as his three brothers, to undertake Rahim-qhan’s protection. He was himself a young man in high repute for prowess and sentiments of honour; but the family, intimidated by the Navvab’s power, refused to take any concern in the affair; so that the other undertook to protect his friend alone. His father and brothers threw themselves at his feet, and represented that, “such a step would be the cause of the ruin of every one of them, as well as of their whole family.” The young man persisted. They represented to him, that “the times of Aaly-verdy-qhan were no more; when, upon shewing tokens of repentance, hopes of pardon were often at hand, and intercessors always found admittance. But that now times were greatly altered; and that his obstinacy would ruin his father and brothers, with all the women and all the children of the family.” The young man yielded to these last representations; so that the men sent from the Navvab, carried Rahim-ollah-qhan away, and confined him in a room in the outer apartments; but, the rumour of this confinement being spread abroad, the young Abdol-ghani took poison and perished. Whilst the Navvab was intent on this affair, his attention was diverted to another object; and this was Chintamon-dass. He was originally a writer of Bodjp8r, his native country, and a man whom Mir-cassem-qhan had promoted to the superintendence of the finances of that district, on account of the ingenuity and talents he had discovered in him. It was found, by intercepted letters under his hand, that he was in correspondence with the refractory Zemindars, refuged at Ghazipoor. The man was seized, and brought to the presence. It happened to be whilst I was myself making my bow to the Navvab, who was sitting in the hall of public audience, surrounded by crowds of people, to whom he was distributing justice. After sitting as usual, half an hour, I got up, made another bow, and went away; but I was hardly out of the gate when a mace-bearer ran after me, and brought me back to the Navvab, who requested me to be seated again. As the Navvab was busy in hearing suits, and pronouncing upon differents, I was not much pleased with my sitting. The audience being over, the several officers that had attended in their stations, were going to retire, when they were ordered to be seated again; the mace-bearers and the yesaöls,\(237\) who were mostly Moghuls and strangers, being all standing in their places. The Navvab then ordered the prisoners to be brought in. The first that appeared was Rahim-ollah-qhan. The Navvab, with a severe look and a firm tone of voice, asked him how, after all the cautions he had given him, and all the injunctions he had intimated to him, he came to be still guilty of the same fault? “If you have no farther commerce with that woman,” added he, “whence comes it that you can afford to purchase a horse of three thousand rupees, you that have no more than a hundred and fifty rupees per month?” The other, confounded by the suddenness of the question, gave a variety of reasons, not worth hearing. The Navvab, more incensed at his prevarications and denials, continued: “Why did you take in your lodgings, and keep there for some time, the servant of Shukur-ollah-qhan, whom you know to be my enemy, and in confinement?” The other, still more confounded, gave some absurd answers, and descended to supplications and prayers. The Navvab listened, but said not a word. A moment after, he ordered his nose to be cut off, and himself to be put upon an ass, and carried in that condition all over the town; after which, he was to be banished beyond the Keremnassa. Chintamun-dass came next. His sentence was to be made fast to an elephant’s foot, and carried round, until death should ensue. The man objected that the letters were forged. “And yet,” answered the Navvab, “they are in your hand-writing, and under your seal; and people that have no enmity to you, and are unconcerned, and know very well your hand, have affirmed the same, after a thorough examination.” The man brought many excuses, but they were rejected; and he underwent his sentence according to its tenor. These two sentences being executed, he ordered the three brothers, Bereket-aaly, and Mahmed-aaly, and Ferhad-aaly, to be brought, and he spoke to them with a great deal of vehemence and displeasure. “You had not a rag on your backs,” said he, “when you first came into my service, and now, by my bounty, you are riding upon elephants, are called mighty Commanders, and have a thousand horse under your orders. And, as to Gurghin-qhan, is it not I that have made him what he is? Was he not a seller of cloth by the yard? With what intent then did you enter into a treaty with him, and did you seal it with the most solemn oaths?” Here the Navvab paused. The men, having beforehand received their lesson from Gurghin-qhan, answered, with a great deal of intrepidity, “That what His Highness their master, said, was exactly the truth, and that it was a fact; but that they, his servants, had not uttered a lie; neither had they swerved from the path of attachment and zeal; and that if they had, and it could be proved, they had no objections to any punition that might be inflicted upon them.” The Navvab, having repeated his accusation three times, three times received the same answer, or to the same purport. Sheh-abdollah being present, was then ordered to draw near; and the Navvab said to him, “Sheh, it is now your part to bring forward what proofs you have mentioned to me, against them, that I may inflict upon them a condign punishment; but should you fail in bringing forth your proofs, you must expect to be punished yourself; for you know, that in such a case, it follows naturally, that you intended to sow dissensions amongst my Commanders, and to disperse my army by my own hands.” The Sheh, who knew that this whole matter had been talked over between the Navvab and Gurghin-qhan, the last night, and that the conference had ended in a renewal and confirmation of the ancient promises and stipulations that subsisted between those two personages, became sensible that it would be in vain now to call on his witnesses, although all of them present, as none of them, after such a coalition, would choose to give his evidence. Spying, therefore, the hand of fate, which was taking an aim at his existence, and observing what turn the matter had taken, he submitted to his destiny, and without uttering a word, he bowed his head. Three times did the Navvab put the same question to him, and repeat the same observation; and three times did the man repeat his bow, without so much as moving the lips. It was now past noon, and the lictors, the apparitors, and the mace-bearers, and all the officers of the Court of Justice were all attending, every one in his place; and I had nearly lost my senses, being unable to comprehend why I had been called back in so awful an assembly. Alas! said I, within myself, it is because I am also to be accused of treason. I was in deep meditation upon my own fate, when good luck would it, that the Navvab got up, and marched towards the women’s apartment; on seeing which, I hastened forwards, and standing at the gate of the secret apartments, I made a profound bow. “You must come along with me,” said the Navvab. It was then only I concluded that I had been sent for upon some other matter than treason. On getting, therefore, into the inner closet, I found that the subject was some bad renown which Mr. Macguire had acquired, by selling to the Navvab a quantity of salt: a transaction which had nothing blamable in itself, but which, however, made a strange noise in the world. The Navvab wanted to inquire how that ill-renown had gone forth. To that end, he gave me a swift boat of his own, with which I executed my commission in seven days, returning to Monghyr within the week. Sheh-abdollah, in my absence, was sent prisoner to P8raneah, where, on the beginning of the war with the English, he was put to death by Mir-cassem-qhan’s order.
Whilst the Court of Monghyr was taken up with such discussions as these, its attention was called up to a very extraordinary event. Mr. Vasittart, Governor of Calcutta, impelled, doubtless, by the omnipotence of tyrannical destiny, conceived the design of paying a visit to the Navvab, and of viewing Monghyr, as well as the factories of Azim-abad and Chaprah. He quitted Calcutta, and after having seen in his way Cassimbazar, Moorshood-abad, and Bardvan, with some other places, he arrived at Monghyr. It was on a Thursday, of the first Djemadi, in the year 1176. The Navvab went as far as the orchard of Goodergatta, which is three cosses distant, to meet him; and having received him with the utmost honour and regard, he brought him to town, where he appointed for his reception and lodgings, the building which Gurghin-qhan had raised on the hill of Sihta-cond;\(238\) there were besides, a magnificent set of lofty tents for his reception, ready pitched. Gurghin-qhan, attended by all the officers of the steward and butler’s office, was ordered to provide an entertainment, and to furnish him with whatever might prove necessary for himself and his retinue. The Navvab, after these dispositions, took his leave, and repaired to his own lodgings within the castle. The next day Vansittart went to visit him. As soon as he appeared in the yard, the Navvab proceeded as far as the outer rails to receive him; from thence he brought him in the hall of audience, made him sit upon his own Mesned, and complimented him with a variety of curious and costly presents, suitable to the occasion, and worthy of the acceptance of a man of that high rank and station. Two days after, the Navvab returned the visit, and invited him to an entertainment; and, on his taking leave, he was in his turn complimented with a variety of rich presents, of European and Chinese manufactures, which the Governor had brought for the occasion. At night, he went to the Navvab’s palace, where he partook of an entertainment, looked a little at the dancers, and then returned to his quarters. So that for three or four days together, both parties were intent on sending curious things to each other. The fourth day, in compliment, doubtless, to the Governor, the Navvab ordered his artillery, and musqueteers, to go through their exercise in the Governor’s presence. As both the artillery and musqueteers had been trained and disciplined after the English maner, that exhibition was not without some grains of ostentation. Vansittart, therefore, took care to give him some advice upon it, which he likewise mixed with some grains of reprimand. “I have seen your troops,” said he, with a smile, “and acknowledge that you have accountred and disciplined them very well; but these are only good against Indians, and people of this climate. Beware of ever opposing them to Europeans, or of coming to a rupture with the English, upon a confidence reposed in your people; for rest assured, that you shall find yourself disappointed, and that these men will never stand the brunt of European soldiers. Beware, therefore, of trusting your honour to such hands. They will disappoint you assuredly, and with the loss of your honour, you shall make away with the honour of every Hindian nation, and of every Hindostany Prince; for if you come to be defeated, with these your choice troops, the people in Europe will from thence conceive the most contemptible idea of the rest of the Hindians; and they will come to despise every thing that is in Hindostan. Reckon then that in your fate is involved the fate of all Hindostan. If you intend to fight us, take care to do it with money in your hands, and arguments in your mouths: this is the way to gain a superiority. Give over then those warlike notions of yours, and be faithful to the agreement which I have established between the two nations. Never suffer any one to infringe it; and manage in such a manner as that the people of these regions may, in consequence of your adherence to the agreement between us and you, live in peace, enjoy their property in content, and bless your name for ever. For in case this agreement should come to be infringed, and matters should proceed as far as a rupture, rest assured that the prosperity of an infinity of persons will be involved in your ruin, and that death and desolation shall overspread these countries.”
Vansittart, after having given this lesson to the Navvab, and amused himself during seven days within the environs of Monghyr, took his leave, and proceeded towards Azim-abad.
| “Listen to a salutary advice, and do not cover yourself with pretences; |
| Hear what a kind monitor says, and act accordingly.” |
The Navvab observed to the Governor that, under the name of the English, numbers of merchants passed their goods free from duty; and that by such a practice, whilst the English themselves reaped but a small benefit, his customs suffered a mighty loss. He added, that to put an end to such pernicious practices, it would be proper to submit all the English private traders to the country duties, leaving the Company’s own trade as free as ever. Vansittart answered, that the English having at all times been accustomed to a freedom from duties, he could not make such a proposal to them; but that he had better wait until he himself (Vansittart), should return to Calcutta, where he would endeavour to find an expedient for that affair; and that as soon as the reglement which he had in his mind, and which he reserved for his return, should come to pass and be forwarded to Monghyr, he might then put it in execution. Without explaining himself further, the Governor proceeded to Azim-abad. But the Navvab, confiding in that kind of promise, conceived the hopes of keeping up his pretensions for duties; insomuch, that after some little time had elapsed, he wrote to his officers everywhere, to give them notice of the agreement he expected, and to put them upon their guards; lest, meanwhile, and until the reglement should come up, the English private traders might find means to evade the custom, and to escape duty-free. But how could he expect that overbearing custom-officers, and short-sighted toll-men would have so much sense and discretion, as to keep such a secret locked up in their breasts, and mean while, manage with so much art, as not to lay themselves open to accusations by their precipitancy and forwardness? In fact, oppositions and stoppages having commenced in many places, the veil was torn away at once in two places; at Azim-abad, where Mr. Ellis, Chief of the factory, was highly incensed against the Navvab, and zealously attached to Mr. Amyatt; and at Djehanghir-nugur-dacca, where Mr. Batson held a similar office. Those two men equally incensed and equally impatient of restraint, and both unable to endure any more, sent a force, which seized the Navvab’s officers, and brought them prisoners to the English factories, with intent to have them tried and punished by the Council of Calcutta, and to throw the blame of their conduct directly upon the Navvab, and indirectly upon Vansittart.
Sometime before these disturbances, this Prince had crossed the Ganga on Gurghin’s persuasion, with intention to proceed on an expedition against Nepal, which had been planned and proposed by that General; and he preceded the Navvab by some days. It was just at the time when Vansittart, after a short visit to Azim-abad, was returning to Calcutta; but the Navvab was already returned from Betiah, when he heard of the bold step which the English had taken. However, before we proceed further on that subject, it is fit that we should give some account of the result on the Navvab’s expedition against Nepal, as it is there that his good fortune commenced to decline. After that, we shall revert to his disputes with the English, and to all the consequences which they produced. As the country of Nepal was known to produce gold, as well as to be full of riches, Gurghin-qhan, who had as much ambition as covetousness in his composition, wished to undertake an expedition thither. But he had another object in view; he wanted also to make a trial of the troops which he had disciplined, and of the artillery which he had trained. With this view, he had long before commenced connections with those crowds of Cashmirians and Sanyassees, and Fakirs,\(239\) who yearly frequented those parts; he had likewise, procured much information from some French priests that live at Latsa;\(240\) insomuch, that he became a proficient in the knowledge of the passes over the mountains, and of the entrances into the country. He even attached to his service, some of those men whom he found to be endowed with understanding, and capable of serving as guides in his expedition; for they had of themselves tendered their services on that head, and had first inspired him with the thoughts of conquering so wealthy a country. Gurghin-qhan, whose ancestors had never been warriors, who was not of a warlike nation, and who knew nothing of military affairs, having conceived a very easy idea of the possibility of conquering that country, inspired his master with an inclination for that conquest. This was not the opinion of Aaly-hibrahim-qhan, and of some other friends of the Navvab’s, who all objected to the expedition, and proposed that at least, if he was bent upon undertaking it, at any rate, he should take with him a body of English; and they reasoned in this manner: “That if by making them his companions, he came to conquer the country with the expected ease, he had carried his point; and if the expedition should not succeed, then he would not be liable to any taunt or reproach from them; nor would he afford them an opportunity of falling out with him so soon. Whereas if he should proceed alone on that expedition, and it should happen to miscarry, the miscarriage would not fail to sink his character with the English, and to become a subject of affliction to his servants and well-wishers.” This advice was certainly rational, and the only good one in those conjunctures; but it was not listened to; and Gurghin-qhan’s interest and counsels prevailed. But, as the fortress of Betiah had been taken but freshly, and the country, which is contiguous to Napal, had been but lately brought under controul, the Navvab availed himself of the pretence of establishing order in that region, to set out on the intended expedition. It was the twenty-fifth of the second Djemady, in the year 1176, of the Hedjra. He crossed the Ganga, and commenced his march; Gurghin-qhan preceding him by one or two stages, at the head of the troops and artillery which he had himself trained; and this order of march lasted until the Navvab arrived at Betiah; from whence Gurghin-qhan advanced four days’ journey farther, and commenced Gurghin-qhan’s expedition in Napal, miscarries. ascending the gaut, or difficult pass, which gave entrance into the country of Nepal. There he was opposed by the Nepalian army; and a sharp engagement took place, in which Gurghin-qhan’s troops, after repeated efforts, in which they lost a great number of men in wounded and slain, repulsed the enemy, With much courage and perseverance they gained the summit of the ascent, where they halted to take some rest for that night. But hardly the night was closed, when the Nepalians coming out of the woods and hills, attacked the Bengalies on all sides at once; and with stones, arrows, and musket-balls, they made so much havoc amongst them, that they drove them back to the bottom of the pass, from whence the latter, after losing a great number of men, and leaving many stands of arms, were obliged to retreat without stopping, as far as Gurghin-qhan’s quarters. That General, on seeing the condition in which they were, lost all hopes of succeeding in his expedition; he was struck with amazement, and ashamed to shew his face. Unable to bear the thoughts of announcing himself his miscarriage, he remained motionless, like one stupefied. Equally unwilling to retrograde and to shew his face again, and not daring to advance against an enemy grown bolder by his late success, he became weary of his very existence, and incapable to take any party for himself. Intelligence of this event having reached the Navvab from elsewhere, he became pensive and uncertain himself, and was at a loss which party to take. After much irresolution, he determined to recall Gurghin-qhan, and an order was dispatched on those terms. The man, impeded by his innate want of sense, and thunderstruck by his recent disgrace, would not go back; and he remained where he was, in defiance of the order he had received. The Navvab informed of this, wanted to send some person of weight to bring him back; but to find such a man, and one to whom Gurghin-qhan would choose to defer, was not an easy matter, unless indeed, it might be Aaly-hibrahim-qhan himself, whom the Navvab pitched upon, as a proper person for so delicate a commission and that nobleman set out immediately, without even any bagage. On his way he found multitudes of wounded, who were on their march towards the Navvab’s camp at Betiah. The Qhan desired them to stop, and to give him time to repair to their General, and to bring him away, as he had come for that very purpose; at the same time, he represented to them, that their appearing in camp in that condition, would redound to their own disgrace, whilst it would discourage their friends and companions, and also displease their lord and master. This remonstrance produced an effect; and as the Qhan spoke sense and reason, and was a man of authority, his words carried a weight, which made an impression on the minds of runaways; and they consented to stop where they were. After this, the Qhan proceeded on his march, and being arrived in Gurghin-qhan’s camp, he worked so forcibly on the mind of that man, become a prey to all the pangs of sorrow and regret, that he brought him back to the Navvab. The Prince, after saying a few words on the expedition, raised his camp, and marched towards Azim-abad. There he learned that some of his officers, who in several places had exacted unaccustomed duties from the goods of the English traders, had been seized by the latter, and confined in their factories. One of these men was Mirza-mahmed, seized at Djhanghir-nugur, and sent to Calcutta; the other had been seized by Mr. Ellis, Chief of the factory of Azim-abad, and sent to Calcutta also. The Navvab, equally surprised and shocked at this intelligence, conceived that the only expedient to save the honour of his Government, and to render it respectable, would be to seize the English mercantile agents on his side, and to keep them in confinement. Orders were accordingly dispatched to surprise and seize a certain number of them, and to send them to Court. After dispatching these orders, he thought proper to displace Radja Nobet-ray, the Deputy Governor of Azim-abad, as being unfit to contend with a man so incensed and so fiery as Mr. Ellis; and he appointed in his stead the valiant Mir-mehdi-qhan, who then commanded in the territory of Shah-abad. The Navvab was then at Hadjip8r, from whence he ordered a bridge of boats to be thrown over the Ganga. As soon as it was ready, he crossed over with his army, a little above the English factory; and without seeing Mr. Ellis, who wanted to pay him a visit, he went and encamped in Djaafer-qhan’s garden, where he invested the new Governor in his Government, by bestowing a rich qhylaat upon him; at the same time, he ordered Radja Nobet-ráy to live at Court, and then marched down towards Monghyr.
As for me, worn down by the fatigue of the campaign, I obtained leave to remain at Azim-abad; but my two brothers, Ghalib-aaly-qhan, and Séyd-aaly-qhan, thought proper to accompany the Navvab; and I thought them gone for the remainder of the year, when, on the fourth day after their departure, I was surprised to see Ghalib-aaly-qhan returned. I asked the reason. He answered, that the Navvab had bid him, as well as his brother, remain at Azim-abad, or repair to their father, which last would prove a better party, than that of fatiguing themselves with such repeated journeys; and that he had assured them, that whether there, or at camp, he did not consider them as being less in his service and pay. Ghalib-aaly-qhan added, that for his own part, he had preferred to return to Azim-abad; but that his younger brother, Séyd-aaly-qhan, not liking the intimation, had followed the Navvab. On hearing this intelligence from Ghalib-aaly-qhan’s mouth, I concluded that the Navvab being now engaged in some disputes and broils with the English, had thought it expedient to keep at a distance from his person and camp, people whose connections with that nation he strongly mistrusted. This conclusion seemed so natural, that I resolved to know of the Navvab himself what was his pleasure on our account; and as I was too weak to go by land, I got into a boat, and in a few days arrived at Monghyr, where I asked of my brother, Séyd-aaly-qhan, how matters had happened? The man, mistaking the Navvab’s intention, had really thought that by dismissing him at Azim-abad, he wanted only to oblige the family, and to afford him some rest. But I thought very differently, and thought right; for in five or six days’ time, the Navvab entrusted Mirza-shems-eddin, with a commission to go to Shudjah-ed-döulah, and to the Emperor’s Court, in order to request their assistance, and to prepare their minds against any emergencies, which his disputes with the English might produce; and that officer, who was an intimate friend of mine, and who knew how far I might be capable of keeping a secret, desired me, at his departure, to order my youngest brother, Séyd-aaly-qhan, to avail himself of his (Shems-eddin’s) company to get out of camp, and to repair to his father. I asked the reason, why the Navvab was bent on keeping my two youngest brothers at a distance from himself? He answered, “That as he reckoned upon my secrecy, he would tell me the truth, but under condition, that I should be careful not to mention it to any one; as such a discovery might do a great deal of harm to himself (Shems-eddin). You have concluded right,” said he, “that the Navvab greatly mistrusts Séyd-aaly-qhan; and that he takes him to be a spy of the English; and as every day now gives rise to some new subject of discontent and displeasure on both sides, he thinks it very improper that your brother should remain in his camp, hanging about his person; but as on the other hand, dismissing him alone would have given an insight into his secret intention, he intimated his desire to both brothers, that Ghalib-aaly-qhan might retire at the same time with him.” If that is the case, answered I, why does the Navvab suffer me in his camp? At that rate he must deem me the head spy, and full as dangerous as the two others put together. Mirza-shems-eddin answered, “That the Navvab did not object to me, because knowing my connections with some of the English, he reserved me as an instrument that might some day or other prove of use; but that over and above that, he considered me as a kind of pledge for my father’s good behaviour, and as an hostage for that of my brother’s.” This intimation of Mir shems-eddin’s confounded and amazed me. I was very near despairing of my life and honour, but thought it best to conceal my grief; so that sending for Séyd-aaly-qhan, I exacted an oath of secrecy from him, and then I informed him of the state of things, exhorting him to be gone by all means, if he was desirous of living. I then recommended him to my friend, and saw him depart. As for me, being too ill to move, I remained at Monghyr, where the Navvab, to keep a veil upon his suspicions, used now and then to inquire after my health by a chopdar, and to send me every day a table covered with victuals. At last, having recovered my health, and bathed according to law, I pitched upon the feast of the sacrifice, and went to pay him my respects. He received me with kindness; and, as I observed that he was going towards the women’s sanctuary, I hastened to the gate of the secret apartment, and made him my bow. He paused, spoke to me with kindness, and putting his hand into his own paan dan,\(241\) he gave me two byris of paan, adding these words: “Have I not done well to dismiss your two brothers, that they might take care of their aged sire? Let them take some rest, and enjoy themselves for a while.” These words, the intent of which I could not mistake, made me applaud his attention, and I extolled that goodness of his which prompted him to so much regard. “And where is the master in these days,” did I exclaim, “who, without discontinuing a large salary, would release his servants from that attendance to which he has so much right?” These words seemed to please him; and he added, “That, in fact, he had with me an acquaintance of old standing, but none indeed with them, or very little.” This was an arrant lie of his; but fain I was to applaud again; for, in former times, when there was an equality between his family and ours, and even some superiority on our side, I had not the least acquaintance with him, and very little friendship indeed for his father-in-law, Mir-djaafer-qhan, or for Miren, his brother-in-law; whereas, Séyd-aaly-qhan himself, living in Bengal, and being a man of pleasure, was in connections with these sort of people, and of course, with that family also, among the rest. After having asked the readers’ pardon for these little anecdotes, about private affairs, let us revert to the disputes with the English.
The Navvab’s officers, having found means to seize some of the mercantile agents of the English, sent them to their master, who kept them prisoners, as hostages for those officers of his, which the English had at first seized. All this happened in consequence of the Navvab’s precipitancy, who, by sending orders to his officers to exact duties from the goods of the English, before Vansittart had time to arrive at Calcutta, and to settle that matter on an equitable footing, put it out of that Governor’s power, on his arrival there, to withstand the members of the Council, who, hitherto dispersed all over Bengal, had now assembled in that city, and formed a majority that shut up the gates of friendship, walled up the door of return, and, by dint of numbers, obliged Vansittart to command the Navvab to hold all English goods whatever free from duties, and to dismiss the English agents, his prisoners, immediately. The Navvab conceived, that to submit to orders which he knew to come from those Counsellors that were his enemies, was disgraceful; and, on the other hand, he found it difficult to stand his ground upon the articles of custom and duty. He, therefore, betook himself to the expedient of suppressing all customs and duties whatever, whether for native merchants or for others; and he answered the imperious letter, sent him by the Council, by writing personally to Vansittart, “That it was notorious that merchants of all sorts made it a practice to pass their own goods under the name of English agents; and that as a release of duties to the latter would, in fact, amount to a general exemption also to most of the former, save only a few wretches too obscure to afford the expense of purchasing protectors, and too poor to afford duties that would be worth perception; he had, therefore, taken the party to suppress all customs and duties whatever, and to render the exemption general. Since so long as the principal merchants could find means to pass duty free, under an English mask, it would be hard to torment a few poor people who would submit to duties, but whose contributions would never repay the charges of perception. That as to the order of dismissing the English agents, prisoners in his camp, it was an injunction vain and absurd; since the English having first seized and confined his officers, these, of course ought to be released first, before the others could be dimissed at all.” This answer of the Navvab’s being perused in the Council of Calcutta, the Counsellors that were in confederacy against him, said, “That this general exemption of the Navvab’s was calculated to throw a slur upon them, by putting them on a footing with the other merchants. That, if Mir-cassem’s intention was to remain on terms of friendship with the English, he must putthings upon the ancient footing, to wit, exact duties from the other merchants, and let English property pass duty free. That as they knew that Mr. Vasittart, infatuated by his blind attachment to Mir-cassem, wanted to render his opposers ridiculous and despicable, so they were resolved to send one of their own body in embassy to the Navvab, to explain their intention; for, if he grants the envoy’s demands,” said they, “we shall have carried our point; and if he does not, then friendship shall cease between us.” The Governor, overcome by a majority that seemed to know no moderation, was, against his own opinion, obliged to put his name to such a letter as they thought proper to dictate, and compelled to consent to the resolution of deputing one from amongst themselves. In consequence of that resolve, Mr. Amyatt, and Mr. Hay, under the escort of one company of Talingas, commanded by Captain Djonson, departed on their embassy to Monghyr. At their departure, Vansittart wrote a short letter to Mir-cassem-qhan, which he gave to the latter’s agent at Calcutta; and he sent him, at the same time, a long message to this purport: “That he exhorted him, by all means, to be firm and punctual in the execution of the treaty, which had at first intervened between himself, on the part of the Company, and the Navvab, a treaty that had been confirmed by oaths on both sides, and by a thorough examination; a treaty, upon the tenor of which, the Navvab ought to regulate his conduct without the least deviation. That the Counsellors, who had been hitherto dispersed all over Bengal, having all assembled in Calcutta, the party opposed to the Navvab, formed a majority, to which he, the Governor, was of course obliged to submit, especially after the management of the affairs of Government had slipped out of his (the Governor’s) hands, through the Navvab’s precipitancy, which had put every matter out of his power. That Mr. Amyatt, supported by the majority in Council, was now setting out on an embassy to Monghyr, and might possibly make him some proposals which would not be of the Navvab’s liking; but that probably they might prove such as would not bring any material detriment to his Government; the more so, as in five or six months hence, the members opposed to him being all to be dismissed the service by an order from home, he ought, for the present, to submit to whatever conditions they might propose actually, and dismiss their envoy with honour and regard, so as to give him full satisfaction; this being the only method to prevent the dispute from going farther, or breeding more serious consequences; as otherwise, the helm being now out of his hands, he (the Governor) was certain that he would not have it in his power to oblige him in the manner he (the Navvab) might wish.” The Navvab, on the arrival of this letter and message, referred the whole negotiation with and the management of the English, to Gurghin-qhan, who was both his General and Minister, and the man whom he most trusted. He considered that he was of the same religion\(242\) with the English; acquainted with their customs and manners; and informed of their several characters, in consequence of his corresponding with his brother, Codja-bedros, and his other friends at Calcutta. The Navvab, therefore, sent for him, informed him of the contents of the letter, and of the purport of the message, and asked him his opinion about the propriety of submitting to the Council’s orders, The Navvab is determined to a resistance by Gurghin-qhan’s advice. or of rejecting the same. Gurghin-qhan, who was both extremely imprudent, and extremely proud, and who detested in his heart every man of birth or of understanding, advised the Navvab to reject the proposal, together with Vansittart’s advice. “Your Highness and the English,” said he, “are now upon a par and upon a level. If you submit to-day, you shall daily lose of your character, and of that awe and respect with which they are now impressed; and, at last, you shall become contemptible in their eyes; but if you listen only to the dictates of honour and courage, and stand firmly on your ground, your character shall daily acquire new respect in their minds; and their own power shall daily lose of its strength and consequence.” The Navvab, who had the highest opinion of his knowledge and attachment, and was accustomed always to defer implicitly to his opinion, adopted his advice without reserve, and resolved to act accordingly. That Prince, sensible of the opposition formed against him at Calcutta, and anxious to take every precaution necessary in a dispute of so much consequence, had harboured this longwhile heavy suspicions against the two Djagat-seats; nor did he think it consonant, to the rules of prudence, to leave two such men in M8rsh8d-abad, at such a critical conjuncture. He remembered that they had been deeply concerned, both by their money and influence, in transferring the supreme power from Seradj-ed-döulah to Mir-djaafer-qhan, and lately from Mir-djaafer-qhan to himself; and, being a great connoisseur in men’s tempers, as well as an inquirer into their characters, he dreaded the consequences of two such men’s remaining at M8rsh8d-abad, and so near Calcutta, at a time when his disputes with the English ran higher and higher, and his difficulties with them were increasing daily upon his hands. He therefore thought it incumbent upon him to have both these brothers in his power, at least; and, as he knew that so far from moving a foot on his sending them letters or orders, they would from that very moment apprehend for their safety, and contrive to escape to Calcutta, where they would prove of infinite service to his opposers, by their wealth, intrigues, and influence;—he therefore wrote to Mahmed-taky-qhan, the Coozza-calanian, who commanded in Birbohom, a man of an acknowledged bravery, and a sincere fidelity, requiring him to repair in all speed to M8rsh8d-abad, where he was to surround the house of the Djagat-seat’s, in such a manner, as that not a man might come out, and then to wait until Marcar, the Armenian, might arrive and bring him a letter; on the perusal of which, he was to deliver the two Seats in his hands, taking a receipt in form for the delivery of their persons. After writing the above order, he dispatched Marcar, an Armenian General, of Gurghin-qhan’s recommendation; and putting three or four regiments of Talingas under his command, he ordered him to repair by water to M8rsh8d-abad, where he was to receive from Mahmed-taky-qhan the two Djagat-seats, and to bring them in all speed to Monghyr, but without departing from a proper regard and attention to their persons and rank. Mahmed-taky-qhan, on receipt of the order, repaired in all speed to M8rsh8d-abad, where he closely surrounded the house of the two Djagat-seats, sending them word at the same time, “That he had no injury to offer either to their persons, fortune, honour, or family; his orders were only to send them to Monghyr, where the Navvab wanted to see them reside near his person; and that he requested them to make themselves thoroughly easy on his own particular subject, as he had no harm to offer.” The two brothers, finding The Djagat-seats, the two most potent private men of India, seized and carried to Monghyr. themselves reduced to the single party of submission, prepared for their voyage. In three days more, Marcar, the Armenian, arrived with his Talingas, and the two brothers being delivered up to him, were carried to Monghyr. The Navvab received them with distinction, spoke to them with kindness, deplored the necessity of his affairs, soothed their minds, excused the rigour of his proceedings, and requested their living at Monghyr, where he hoped they would build lodgings for themselves, set up a Banking House, as they had at M8rsh8d-abad, attend at his Court as they did formerly, and, as formerly, transact business in the affairs of Government and finance. He, at the same time, set them at full liberty; but people were secretly set upon them, with orders not to suffer them to go out any great distance. The poor brothers were fain to order a Banking House to be raised for their lodgings, and found themselves obliged to accommodate themselves to the perfidy exercised on them; and as these two men have cut at all times such a figure in Bengal, the reader shall not find fault with his seeing here some account of them. The two brothers, which bore the names of Mahtab-ráy and Radja Ser8p-chund, were both grandsons to Djagat-seat-fateh-chund, by two brothers, sons to this Fateh-chund, who died both in the time of Shudjah-qhan, Viceroy of Bengal; so that his fortune, which was literally immense, and past all belief, passed to those his grandsons, who, in Aaly-verdy-qhan’s time, lived in Bengal with so much credit and authority, as is hardly credible at such a distance of time. Their riches were so great, that no such bankers were ever seen in Hindostan or Decan; nor was there any banker or merchant, that could stand a comparison with them, all over India. It is even certain, that all the bankers of their time in Bengal, were either their factors, or some of their family. Their wealth may be guessed by this only fact: In the first invasion of the Marhattas, and when M8rsh8d-abad was not yet surrounded by walls, Mir-habib, with a party of their best horse, having found means to fall upon that city, before Aaly-verdy-qhan could come up, carried from Djagat-seat’s house two corors of rupees, in Arcot coin only;\(243\) and this prodigious sum did not affect the two brothers, more than if it had been two trusses of straw. They continued to give afterwards to Government, as they had done before, bills of exchange, called dursunies,\(244\) of one coror at a time, by which words is meant, a draft, which the acceptor is to pay at sight, without any sort of excuse. In short, their wealth was such, that there is no mentioning it, without seeming to exaggerate, and to deal in extravagant fables. Thousands of their agents and factors have acquired such fortunes in their service, as have enabled them to purchase large tracts of land, and other astonishing possessions; and now that those two heads of the family are both dead these many years, and their sons, in consequence of the superiority acquired by the English in all the branches of trade over Bengal and Hindostan, fall vastly short of the wealth of their fathers; nevertheless there is not one man of that family, and not one dependant of that house but who lives in the utmost splendour and prosperity.
Intelligence coming at this time that Mr. Amyatt was drawing
near, the Navvab, who had beforehand sent for Mir-abdollah-sefevi
from Azim-abad, a valuable gentleman, whose merit has
many times been mentioned in these memoirs, now thought
proper to join me, the poor man, to him in the same commission;
and he desired us, as we were both upon familiar terms with
Mr. Amyatt, to go forward, in order to receive him, and to
endeavour to discover what was his real purpose, and what
might be his real intentions in coming so far. He at the same
time appointed a Gentoo, to attend us as Persian secretary, and
he ordered twenty spies to be at our command both as spies and
as messengers. These twenty men were parted in two divisions,
and commanded by two head men as officers, who had orders to
disguise themselves like menial servants, and to introduce themselves
the one into Mir-abdollah’s service, the other into mine,
with injunctions never to be absent from any of the meetings or
conferences which might be held with the English, and to take
care to observe not only the expressions and words, but even the
gestures of the hands as well as the signs of the head between
us, transmitting every day a faithful account of what they should
hear, or see. One of these twenty messengers, on receiving a
letter, was to carry it to the next post, and then to return to his
office. Every one of us having received our lesson in this manner,
we quitted Monghyr, and arrived at Ganga-persad, where we
had the good luck to meet Mr. Amyatt; but on embracing him
took care to whisper that we had spies over us. Mr. Amyatt
and the others being thereby put upon their guard, spoke and
acted with precaution; for, being every night at the same landing
place, we used to pass the greatest part of our time with the
English; and whatever we had said or heard, was fully set down
both by us and by the head spies, and severally dispatched to
the Navvab every evening. One day, to avoid all suspicions, I
opened my commission to Mr. Amyatt with an audible voice, and
I spoke to him as I had been instructed to do by the Navvab.
“What can possibly be,” said I, “the reason of your coming,
and what is your intent? Being both of us well-wishers to His
Highness, as well as to the English, we are desirous of being
informed of your intentions, that we may contrive expedients
for the benefit of both parties.” Mr. Amyatt, with a loud voice,
answered: “It is customary with Indians, when they come to us,
to tell us none but such things as may keep us in good humour;
and when they return to the Navvab, they never fail to speak
to him, so as to humour him in his wishes; and hence, our real
intentions on both sides remain concealed from each other
party, and our views do not come to light. It is to avoid those
inconveniences, that we have quitted our homes, to come so
far in embassy, with intention to see the Navvab face to face,
and to tell him what we have to say, as well as to hear what
he has to answer; and, this being the case, it is needless that
we should have any business with any other person.” This
declaration of Mr. Amyatt’s putting an end to all political topics,
we took care in our conversation with the English to drop many
expressions of reproach, and to dispute with them in such a
manner, as was pointed out by the times; it being the only
expedient we could devise, to preserved ourselves from the Navvab’s
suspicions, and to avoid feeling the effects of his resentment.
On the day when this last conversation took place, the contents
of which were severally forwarded to Court both by us and by the
head spies, we arrived at Baghalpoor, and there received a letter
from the Navvab, which recalled both Mir-abdollah and me,
adding, that as Mr. Amyatt did not choose to enter into any
particulars with us, it was needless we should stay with him any
more, but, that we must manage so, as to be at Court before the
Englishman’s arrival. Mir-abdollah, having informed Mr. Amyatt
of this recall, we took our leave of him, and returned to Monghyr,
where we waited on the Navvab immediately, after having been
met in the way by several messengers that came to hasten our
march. Being in his presence, he commenced putting questions
to us. As my poor friend, Mir-abdollah, (on whom be peace!)
had not a ready delivery, and could not express himself properly,
his answers displeased the Navvab, and he was twice reproached,
and afterwards dismissed. He went home, and I followed him,
with intent to take some rest; when a messenger came from
Aaly-hibrahim-qhan, informing me that His Highness wanted me
immediately, and that I must go with the Qhan to Court. Fain I
was to put on a full dress again, and to repair to the Navvab’s.
This Prince was in his private apartments, sitting in the outer-room
of his bath, and in close conference with Gurghin-qhan. I
took my seat in a corner, and Aaly-hibrahim-qhan in another.
The Navvab repeated to Gurghin-qhan what he had heard from
my mouth; he them turned towards me, and ordering me to
draw nearer, he bid me tell Gurghin-qhan all my observations.
Upon this command, I drew near, and sitting over against that
General, I recommenced my tale. The General, after hearing a
few words, seemed ruffled; and, to shew that my report deserved
but little oredit, he turned towards the Navvab, and said: My
Lord Navvab, weré a man to rip open an Englishman’s body
with a knife, he would not for that come at his secret. He then
turned again to me, and asked me some questions, which I answered.
At the third or fourth answer, he seemed impatiented,
and said: “My Lord Qhan, I want nothing of all that. Pray, do
answer three or four questions which I am going to put to
you. What is Mr. Amyatt’s intention? And does he come to
intrigue against the Navvab, or not? Is he come to pry into
the state of the army and fortress, or not? Has he any friendship
or good will for us, or does he come with hostile intentions?”
On hearing these words, I was extremely surprised, and looking
at him full in the face, I answered: “My Lord, your questions
really confound me, and I am amazed at what you mean. It is
but a moment since you said yourself, that were one to rip open
an Englishman’s body, he would not for that come at his secret;
and you want me now to reveal to you Mr. Amyatt’s innermost
thoughts! As to his coming with sinister intentions, it would be
really surprising that he should harbour any such designs; the
man comes into your house, and alone; and it is he that ought
to be afraid of sinister designs, and not you, who are at home,
and ought not to conceive any fears from him. As to what you
have hinted of his coming hither to pry into the state of the
army and fortress, I am of opinion, that not only Mr. Amyatt
shall, but that any other man whatever that comes hither, will,
of course, acquire some knowledge of both your fortress
and your army; and that the quantum of such a knowledge
of his, will depend on his share of penetration and knowledge.
With respect to your other two questions, about his
coming with friendly or inimical intentions, the matter of fact
is, that he comes to you with some demands and requests of
his own; if you grant him his demands, there is no doubt but
that he shall be pleased with you, and will become your friend;
and if you refuse them, it is no less certain that the refusal
will produce discontents, and at last enmities. All these
observations do not deserve questions; they are self-evident.”
The Navvab having assented to what I said, Gurghin-qhan, who
had never been a friend to me, became now more estranged
than ever. But the Navvab dismissed me; and as I was going
home in the utmost amazement, I could not but admire that
fulness of power in the divine dispensations of Providence,
which had suscited such and the like people, to stand over our
heads as Generals of armies, and as Ministers of State, with
unlimited powers of binding and loosing. The next morning
after this conference, the Navvab sent his own nephew, Aab8-aaly-qhan,
and his Minister, Radja Nobet-ráy, to meet and
receive Mr. Amyatt; and on the third day, the latter arrived at
Monghyr, where he alighted at a set of tents that had been
pitched up for his quarters. The Navvab went to see him, at
which time the visit became one continual scene of dissimulation
and reciprocal cringing. The next day Mr. Amyatt returned the
visit. He had with him Mr. Hay, and Captain Johnston, together
with some other gentlemen, amongst whom was a Mr. Gulston,
a young man lately come into India, who in so short a time had
learned the Persian very well, and at our first interview, had
conceived as much good will for me as I had for him.\(245\)
The
Navvab, on descrying Mr. Amyatt, got up, as is the etiquette,
advanced a few steps from his Mesned, and brought him to sit
upon some chairs placed there on purpose, upon one of which
he took his own seat. After a little conversation, the usual ceremonial
of Paan, Atur, and Rose-water, was brought up; and
then several trays covered with stuffs were produced, together
with one plate containing jewels and gems; all which were
presented to him. On his taking leave, the Navvab got up, and
re-conducted him, as well as all the English, as far as the end
of the carpeting, where he invited them to an entertainment,
At night they all came, and after having been amused with
dances and a bonfire, they were complimented with an entertainment,
which lasted beyond midnight. Since that day, the
English visited the Navvab several times, and at each time
several complaints, and many reproaches were taking place on
both sides; and at each visit matters seemed verging towards
a rupture. For it was remarked, that at every meeting, the
Navvab, whether by chance or otherwise, never failed to commit
some action, or to be guilty of some gesture, which never failed
to give offence, and to be laid hold of as a fit subject of complaint.
At last, the discontents ran so high, that at one time Mr. Amyatt,
who had advanced as far as the door of the Navvab’s apartment,
Amyatt sent
on embassy to
Mir-cassem,
spoils every
thing by the
hastiness of
his temper,
and the imperiousness
of his conversation.
returned back much displeased; nor would he have been brought
again, had not some of the Navvab’s favourites run after him,
and intreated his being pacified. Mr. Amyatt and the others
complained of the Navvab’s guards at the gate, and of some
other of his servants. The Navvab professed his ignorance, and
made many apologies; but the English could not be brought
to believe, that servants would dare to commit such actions
without their master’s consent; and they were still more displeased
at the apology. However, as the Navvab was offering
many excuses, they determined that the only method with
him was, to put his words to the trial. With that view,
Mr. Gulston and Captain Johnston, got on horse-back at day-break,
as is the English custom, and went out to take an
airing, and to see the country; but as soon as they offered
to go somewhat far, several foot-guards, stationed at that
part, forbade their proceeding that way; and some troopers,
that suddenly appeared, opposed their passage. The English,
accustomed to talk high, and to carry every thing with a high
hand, forced their passage forward. The guards incensed,
lighted up their matches and put themselves in a posture of defence;
and the English, after having attempted in vain to turn
them, returned to town, and went directly to the Navvab’s, where
they exhaled themselves in excessive complaints, and made use
of several high expressions. The Navvab flatly denied his
having any hand in the matter, and excused his people; he also
apologised for himself, and pretended his ignorance. But this
did not persuade any one of the English; nor was this dust
wiped off from their hearts; and this event having alienated
their minds, their discontent ran higher and higher, and at last
it undermined the wall of good will and sincerity. The Navvab
was every day holding Councils on these matters with his favourites;
for instance, with Aaly-hibrahim-qhan, and with Mirza-shems-eddin.
Those men of sense always proposed some expedient
to renew the conferences, in order both to soothe
Mr. Amyatt’s mind, and to pacify the Navvab. On my own part,
as I laboured under the imputation of being in connection with
the English, I did not dare to offer a word in their behalf;
but being also intimate with Aaly-hibrahim-qhan, and with
Mirza-shems-eddin, I used to impart to them such expedients and
notions of mine, as I thought might conduce to a good understanding,
or keep at a distance the thoughts of hostility; and
these were soon imparted to the Navvab, who always assented,
but not for any length of time. For as soon as it was four in the
afternoon, at which time Gurghin-qhan used to come and to
engross him as late as nine o’clock at night, all was undone again;
so that he would efface himself every trace of those lines, which
his well-wishers had been at so much pains to trace on the glass
of his mind; and in the morning, not the least vestige of them
could be discerned. Instead of that, the General used to engrave
thereon his own infructuous persuasions, and that too, in such
deep characters, that no hand and no tool could efface them
afterwards. This management took place so constantly, that
once Aaly-hibrahim-qhan losing all patience, wrote a note to the
Navvab in these very words: Since the advices and counsels
offered by your well-wishers, and which your mind approves,
never fail in the evening to be obliterated by Gurghin-qhan’s
suggestions, it is needless that either your Highness, or your
friends and well-wishers, should fatigue themselves any more
upon an unfructuous subject; for in the end, we all find that
nothing is done, but what has been advised by Gurghin-qhan.
It is then proper that this affair should be wholly committed
to his care, without giving further trouble to your own mind,
as well as to every one of us on so disagreeable a subject. Let
us all do as he shall bid; (and this after all would be nothing
novel) it is but what happens every day. In one word, (for we
must end) we are unanimously of opinion, that if your Princely
mind be for peace, Mr. Amyatt’s heart ought not to be estranged
by actions and words that derogate from the high character
which our master bears; and, if you be for a rupture, and for
pursuing a plan of military operations on Gurghin-qhan’s
notions and schemes, still, to disoblige a man come on an embassy,
is contrary to the rules of a Princely behaviour, and
beneath the high dignity of a Sovereign. So far from abating
any thing from the regard and attention which it is customary
to pay the people of that nation, we are of opinion that some
additional token of respect ought to be shewn them now, were
it because they are come under the safeguard of an embassy
We do not mean to say that the preparations intended for
further hostilities ought to be discontinued; on the contrary,
they ought to go on. We contend only, that such actions as
these men complain of, are not of a nature either to add any
thing to the terror of your name and power, or to detract any
thing from their own dignity, or from the opinion they entertain
of themselves. All these can produce no other fruit, than
that of enlarging the foundations of enmity, and giving new
wings to envy and jealousy.
Gurghin-qhan having somehow got advice of this note of Aaly-hibrahim-qhan’s took offence at it, and for two or three days together he abstained from coming to Court. It was just at this time that a boat from Calcutta came to touch at Monghyr. She proved to be laden with a quantity of goods, under which were found five hundred fire-locks, destined for the factory of Azim-abad. These Gurghin-qhan wanted to stop, whilst Mr. Amyatt insisted upon the boat’s being dismissed without being stopped or even searched; and to that forbearance the Court would not listen. Aaly-hibarhim-qhan objected to the boat’s being stopped or visited at all. He contended, “That if peace was in contemplation, there was no colour for stopping the boat; and if hostilities were in view, then he saw no great harm in adding five hundred more musquets to the two thousand already in the English factory. For if we can fight against two thousand,” said he, “I dare say, we can as well fight against two thousand five hundred.” To this the Navvab having said that he wondered why nobody would say so much to Gurghin-qhan himself, Aaly-hibrahim-qhan answered, that if His Highness’s pleasure was that so much should be said to Gurghin-qhan, it would prove a small affair. The Navvab, a little affected by these words, desired Radja Nobet-ráy and Aaly-hibrahim-qhan to go and bring Gurghin-qhan to Court, as he intended to consult him on this subject. The two Lords accepted the commission, and departed. Gurghin-qhan, on hearing their errand, seemed to be in a passion, and said, “My office is that of Grand-master of the artillery, and I am but a soldier; nor have I any business with consultations and politics. Let His Highness consult with his friends and favourites. Whenever there is war, and I am sent to stand in some post, I hope, I shall not fail to do my duty; but as for politics, I know nothing of them”. The Radja observing the violence of the man’s temper, said not a word, but turned his eyes towards Aaly-hibrahim-qhan. The Qhan having chided Gurghin-qhan a little upon his ill humour, said these very words: “The Navvab-aaly-djáh asks advice from his Grand-master of the artillery, and it appears that he never transacts business without consulting him. Why then does not the Grand-master of the artillery give such advice as he thinks best for his own honour, and for his master’s service?” These words having somewhat pacified Gurghin-qhan, he turned himself towards Aaly-hibrahim-qhan, and raised both his hands, which he set open against each other. He explained his thought by this comparison or allegory: “The Navvab and the English,” said he, “stand now in this manner: that is, they are upon a par and an equality, and on the same level; but if he does not stand firm, and chooses to lower his tone a little, (and here he sunk his right a little) the other hand will remain where it is; and of course higher. If, on the contrary, his hand remains where it is, the English hand must fall lower, and the Navvab will remain with a superiority on his side. As to the rest, let His Highness do as he pleases; he is the master.” The envoys returned to the Navvab with this answer, and they reported the whole transaction minutely; but this opinion of the General’s having put an end to all thoughts about pacifications, nothing was thought of now but a rupture, and open hostilities. So that Mr. Amyatt finding it useless to make any further stay, resolved to return, and he took his leave. The Navvab at first wanted to keep every one of the English, as hostages; at last, after a deal of parley, he consented to dismiss them all, under condition that Mr. Hay should be detained at Monghyr, until Mirza-mahmed-aaly and some other of the Navvab’s officers confined at Calcutta, should be released, and upon their way to Monghyr; at which time he would release Mr. Hay. The latter having consented (and this consent of his became in the sequel the cause of his death), Mr. Amyatt and the others obtained leave, and went down the river in their boats.
CONTENTS.
The English commence hostilities, by surprising and plundering Azim-abad—This city lost and recovered for Mir-cassem, in one and the same day—Mir-cassem, forced into a war, resolves to push it with vigour—A fracas in the Council at Calcutta between Hastings and Batson—Battle of Cat8a lost through the misintelligence that reigns amongst Mir-cassem’s Generals—Mir-cassem deposed by the English, who bring back Mir-djaafer-qhan—Mir-cassem’s army defeated at Gheriah— Dissensions in Mir-cassem’s Councils—The strong post at 8d8a forced by the English—Gurghin-qhan, his principal General, murdered—All the English prisoners put to death by Mir-cassem’s orders—Mir-cassem totally ruined, thinks of retiring in the Vezir’s dominions—Strongly dissuaded by Mirza-nedjef-qhan, one of his Commanders—Mir-cassem, surrounded by traitors, is promised an asylum by perfides—Revolution at P8raniah in favour of the English—Infamous hypocrisy of Mir-suléiman, Steward and favourite of Mir-cassem’s—Successful expedition in the Bundelcund by that fugitive—The Vezir attacks the English with an army utterly ungovernable— The English, in distress, retreat under the cannon of Azim-abad —Battle—The Vezir’s troops vigorously repulsed by Major Carnac—The Emperor’s negotiation with the English, miscarries—Dissensions between Mir-cassem and the Vezir— Mir-cassem, in despair, turns Fakir—He is arrested and stripped—Singular discourse between Aaly-hibrahim-qhan and the Vezir—Odious character of old Mir-djaafer, as well as of Nandecomar, his Minister—Mir-djaafer dies somewhat a Gentoo—Major Monro, General—A regiment of Sipahees mutinies, and is punished—Singular behaviour of one of them condemned to death—Battle of Bacsar, in which Shudja-ed döula is undone—Singular escape of Mir-cassem’s, then a prisoner of State—Shudja-ed-döula wishes for a peace—Proposals of the English—His pride greatly humbled, and his ideas greatly altered—Rejects the proposals—The English push on the war—Besiege the fortress of Chennar-gar—Are repulsed— Raise the siege to march up to the enemy—The citadel of Ilah-abad surrenders to the English, who conquer the whole of the Vezir’s dominions—The latter, joined by the Marhatta, Malhar-ráo, advances towards the English, and is worsted after a few skirmishes—Singular speech of Ahmed-qhan-bangash, to Shudjah-ed-döula, highly honourable to the English—The garrison of Chennar surrenders to the English—The Vezir almost alone and without any safe-conduct, goes to Major Carnac’s camp, where he is received with respect—The Major wins his heart— The Vezir concludes a peace with the English—He applies to all his relations and dependants for some money, and is refused by all, and even by his own mother—But is generously assisted by his consort, whom he henceforward makes depositary of all his savings.
MR. AMYATT, finding that none of his proposals to the Navvab had been accepted,\(246\) and that no care had been taken to give him satisfaction in any thing, descended towards Calcutta, extremely discontented and mortified at the success of his embassy; but he had the attention to inform Mr. Ellis, that as no agreement had taken place between the English and the Navvab, the consequence would be a rupture with hostilities. Be therefore, said he, upon your guard in matters of war, and do not fail to seize such an opportunity as may offer. As Mr. Ellis himself had his heart full against the Navvab, and he reckoned it for certain, that on Mr. Amyatt’s making his report to the Counsellors of their party, now the majority of Calcutta, the Council would not fail to declare war against that Prince, and to make every effort to drive him out of his dominions; he on his side prepared himself underhand for the event; and being certain of the day on which Mr. Amyatt had departed from Monghyr, he, by calculating in how many days more he might be out of the reach of the Navvab’s forces, rightly concluded that he must be now arrived in Calcutta; and he resolved on such a conclusion, to attack Mir-mehdi-qhan, and to surprise the city of Azim-abad, where that officer commanded. A short note was therefore written to Major Carstairs, who was at the head of all the English troops in the environs, to desire his managing in such a manner, as that his people should all be assembled at the English factory in the evening, in order to assault the gates of the city at day-break. He, at the same time, prepared a number of ladders of bamboo,\(247\) and of wood; and he wrote to Doctor Fullarton, The English commence hostilities by surprising and plundering the city of Azim-abad. who lived in the middle of the city, to desire his attendance. The Doctor, who knew nothing of the scheme, obeyed the order; but, on being arrived at the factory, he soon saw what was going forward. Of all these preparatives, the Governor, Mir-mehdy-qhan, was completely ignorant. He lived in the citadel, which is at the other extremity of the city, and was actually fast asleep at the moment of the attack; and, as to the garrison and the troops destined to watch the walls of the city, every one of them, in compliance with that inveterate custom of neglect and supineness that has now taken place in these countries, and to which people never fail to conform themselves, was either unarmed and fast asleep upon the walls, or living unconcernedly in his own home; insomuch, that there was hardly a man to oppose some defence, whether officer or soldier. The English, setting out of their factory at the rising of the morning star, applied their ladders to that tower which was close to Mir-abdollah’s house, and to the English factory, and got silently and courageously upon the wall. It was on a Friday morning, the 12th of A. D. 1763. the month Zilhidj, in the year of the Hegira 1176. The few soldiers of the garrison, who, on account of the neighbourhood of the English factory, appeared to be still there, having taken to their arms, wounded some English and Talingas, and then fled; so that the English were left masters of the ramparts; and they descended in two bodies within the city, directing their march towards the citadel. One body advanced firing, along the main street and the several markets; and the other marched along the catra and the street of the Divan’s quarter, firing all the way occsionally Mir-mehdi-qhan, and the other officers, awakened from their sleep and supineness by the report of the cannon and musquetry, assembled what troops they could in that moment of surprise and trepidation; and, half asleep, they advanced to oppose the enemy, whom they met at the head of the street Corhatta; and there, as soon as the English had fired a volley amongst them, with a few grape-shot, which wounded Mahmed-amin-qhan, with many others, the rest lost courage and fled, leaving Mir-mehdy-qhan, and Sheh-bereket-aaly, and Mir-mahmed-amin-qhan, with the shame of so sudden a defeat. The latter, in despair of such a disgrace, fled towards the Eastern gate, and wanted to go to Monghyr. Sheh-bereket-aaly, confounded at this sudden revolution, made the best of his way towards the Rani’s wicket, and fled along the water side, without knowing whither he was going. But, Mahmed-amin, although wounded, repaired to the Chehel-s8t8n, (a building of stone, raised by the Azim-abad lost for Mir-cassem, and recovered in one and the same day. late Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan) shut up the gate, and, with the few followers he could muster on so sudden an emergency, he prepared to defend himself. At the same time the Gentoo Colonel, Laal-sing, having assembled his people, shut up the gate of the citadel, and commenced firing, resolved to stand his ground. The same resolution was also taken in the Chehel-s8t8n, from whence balls now commenced raining on all sides.
We have said, that the English left in possession of the walls, had spread themselve all over the city and its ramparts, from the Western, up to the Eastern gate; nor was any appearance of resistance to be seen anywhere, but at the citadel and at the Chehel-s8t8n; all the rest being taken possession of by the English, and as far as twelve o’clock, their Talingas, together with their harcaras and looch-chas,\(248\) who had dispersed themselves everywhere, leisurely plundered the houses of the citizens, without leaving in some of them so much as a bit of straw: a treatment the more strange, as it had never been experienced from any English army. Mir-mehdi-qhan, the Governor, was all this while on his way to Monghyr, and he had already reached Fatwa,\(249\) when he was met there by a body of troops that had been sent from Monghyr to support him, and to re-inforce his garrison. The Commanders of those troops, without minding the condition in which they saw Mehdi-qhan, attended only to what they heard of the resistance at the citadel, and at the Chehel-s8t8n, and forthwith they resolved to recover the city out of the hands of the English. Instantly they set out, marched expeditiously, and taking their route by the water-side, they in a couple of hours arrived at the foot of the tower called, the Séyds, where they suddenly made their appearance. It was at the Eastern gate, which they prepared to assault directly. The English, without being dismayed, opened the gate, placed two pieces of cannon upon the bridge that crossed the fossé, and ranging themselves in a line, they prepared to receive the enemy. It must be observed, that Mir-nasser, who commanded the rocket-men, having outmarched General Marcar, the Armenian, was already arrived at Fatwa, with his two colleagues, Djaafer-qhan, and Aalem-qhan, from whence he had brought back the Governor of the city. These officers having put themselves at the head of their men, attacked the English with a discharge of rockets and musquetry, and instantly broke their line. The English retreated; but being disheartened by their loss, they thrust an iron needle into the touch-hole of each of the two guns, and dispersed for their lives. The Governor, animated by this success, exhorted the three Commanders that were with him, to make use of the occasion, and to pursue hotly; and this pursuit had a full effect. On hearing of this disaster of the English, even the other troops, that were yet stationed on the towers and ramparts, were confounded, lost their wonted firmness, and fled on all sides. Victory declared for Mir-cassem-qhan’s people, and the ramparts and towers were cleared and recovered in one and the same day.
The dispersed English quitted the city, and assembled again at their factory, which they put in a state of defence; whilst the enemy lodging themselves on the tower opposite to it, and on the berme which reigns about the Birbanna small gate, commenced pouring a hot fire. The English, finding themselves too much exposed to it, resolved, with Mr. Ellis at their head, to quit the place, and, in the night time, they resolved to retreat to Bankypoor,\(250\) their old encampment; but this was put out of their power. Marcar, the Armenian, arriving at this time with six regiments of disciplined Talingas, and eight field-pieces, joined the Governor and the others, and determined to pursue the English at day-break. But Mr. Ellis, who had now lost all courage, not choosing to stand his ground even there, resolved to fly farther, as far as Chapra, by water, and from thence to cross the Serdj8, which is the boundary of the two Soobahs, or provinces, intending to take shelter in Shudjah-ed-döula’s dominions; but even that could not be effected. One Ram-nedy, Fodjdar of the district of Sarun, an ungrateful Bengaly, who owed much to the English, had the confidence to attack the fugitives, whilst Sumro, with some regiments of Talingas, crossed over from Bacsar to support him. This sight having totally daunted Mr. Ellis and his followers, the English, who were now quite dispirited, or rather had been overtaken by their fate, thought proper to surrender prisoners, although they had still three battalions of Talingas, and might have done many things. Intelligence of this success having reached the Navvab, it raised his pride to a height, and gave much additional strength to Gurghin-qhan’s influence and credit. It was noon-day when he had received intelligence of the English having seized the city of Azim-abad, and expelled Mehdy-qhan; and such an intelligence had nearly killed him; when lo! about twelve hours after, in the middle of the night, another letter came, that mentioned how the Governor, having been met by the re-inforcement intended for his garrison, had put himself at the head of those troops, and had recovered the city with a great slaughter of the English. This sudden intelligence revived the Navvab’s spirits. The Navvab’s soul, which was just going to quit his body, recovered its seat, and gave him a new life. It was now past midnight. Instantly he ordered the military music to strike up, and its sound awakened the whole town of Monghyr. As soon as it was day-break, every one of those in his service made haste to offer their congratulations; and the gates of the public hall being set open, he received the nuzzurs and compliments of his whole Court. It happened, that as Mir-abdollah was still at Monghyr, from whence the Navvab had not given him leave to return to Azim-abad, lest his friendship with the English might prompt him to introduce them into that city through his house, which was close to the walls, I took him with me, and we went together to pay our respects, and to offer our nuzzurs to the Navvab. This Prince, fixing his eyes upon Mir-abdollah, spoke these very words: Pray, did you not say, that the English could eat men alive at one mouthful, and that no one could stand in their presence? Turning then towards me, he added: Your friend, the Doctor, can use his friends very ill, in a very strange manner, indeed. He has introduced troops secretly through his house, and it is he that has given rise to those disturbances, which you have doubtless heard of. “And who am I, my Lord Navvab,” answered I quickly, “to be so great a friend of theirs? The Doctor was an acquaintance of your Highness, and your friend; and it becomes us, your servants, to be friends of their master’s friends, as well as enemies to his enemies. If the Doctor be your friend, his friend I am from that moment; and if he be your enemy, I become his mortal enemy likewise, from that moment.” The Navvab made no reply; but, at the end of the public audience, he wrote circular letters throughout his dominions, by which he informed his officers of this event, and gave them notice of the rupture between him and the English, as well as of the proofs they had furnished of their hatred and enmity to him; commanding them at the same time to put those perfides to the sword wherever they should find them. It is uncertain whether he may have comprised in this order, Mr. Amyatt himself, with all those of his retinue; or whether those that killed that ill-fated man, availed themselves of the general order, arrived at M8rsh8d-abad.\(251\) This much is certain, that he was surrounded by Mahmed-taky-qhan’s people, and by those of Sheh-savar-beg, who hacked him to pieces, with all the other English on board, although he made entreaties for his being sent alive to their master. But those impudent wretches proved deaf to his prayers, and cutting his head off, they sent it to the Navvab. This event happened on a Thursday, the 18th of Zilhidj, in the Year 1176, of the Hegira, the very day when, according to a general report, the English factory at Cassim-bazar had been plundered by the Navvab’s people.
Mir-cassem-qhan, convinced now that all was over with the English, and that there was no other party to take with them but that of war, sent a large detachment under three Commanders to A. D. 1763. M8rsh8d-abad, with orders to oppose the English, jointly with Mahmed-taky-qhan, who had instructions to effect a junction with them; and, after having received whatever he should want from Séyd-mahmed-qhan, the Deputy Governor of that city, to advance to Palassy, and Catwa, in order to be at hand to oppose the English, whenever they should come out of Calcutta. This detachment was commanded by Djaafer-qhan, Aalem-qhan, and Mir-háibet-ollah. On this order, Mahmed-taky-qhan quitted Birbohom, at the head of the troops he had trained, and he encamped at Catwa.
So unexpected a catastrophe, and so sudden a change, could not fail of exciting a great ferment at Calcutta. Governor Vansittart, disappointed and confounded beyond measure, wrote a threatening letter to Séyd-mahmed-qhan, to inquire how the murder of that unfortunate man had come to be perpetrated almost under his eyes. The letter, amongst other matters, contained these verses of the poet’s:—
| “Amidst all the dissensions of mighty Kings and proud Sovereigns, |
| We never heard that any injury has been offered to an embassador.” |
The purport of the letter was this: “That if the murder had been perpetrated by his own management, or that of his dependants, the punishing of it would, of course, be entered on his and their account, but that if it had been done by orders from their master, then let us see,” said the writer, “what the Supreme Disposer of events shall bring to pass between the English and the Navvab.” As soon as the letter was dispatched, the Counsellors of Calcutta, all incensed to the highest degree, assembled in the Council chamber; and after several dialogues of the most inflammatory kind, they accused Vansittart, as being Mir-cassem-qhan’s patron and protector; but as the latter happened to be out of order that day, and absent, Mr. Hushtin, a Member, with whom he had but one heart and one tongue, was desired to make an apology in his name, to the Council assembled, and to speak in his stead. But, on his taking his seat, and making the apology, the other Counsellors, already alienated, at once attributed this absence to the Governor’s consciousness, and to his sense of shame. They loaded him with the bitterest reproaches; and, as they had come with full intention to declare war, and seemed exceedingly passionate and out of temper, they forgot themselves so far, as to drop some improper expressions highly injurious to the Governor and Mr. Hushtin. The latter, otherwise a very quiet man, would not put up with such expressions, and high words of mutual reproach passed between him and Mr. Batson.\(252\) Vansittart no sooner heard of this dispute, than he hastened to the Council in the very undress, and in that weak state of body, in which he happened to be; and, taking his seat, he asked them what they wished to be done, and what was their pleasure? The answer he received was unanimous. Those men, who all along had been so closely linked with his opposers; who were no less incensed against their own Governor, than against the Navvab; and, whose wounds had been lately besprinkled with salt, by Amyatt’s murder, and Ellis’s captivity; those men exclaimed out with one voice; and all, without minding either time or person, clamoured aloud, that their only wish was to revenge Mr. Amyatt’s death on Mir-cassem’s person, and to punish that vindictive man for his cruelty. In a scene of so much violence and animosity, Vansittart had the presence of mind to preserve his temper. He produced a note, in which he observed, “That Mr. Ellis, with a multitude of Englishmen, officers, civilians, and soldiers, being in Mircassem’s power, no doubt could be entertained, but all these unfortunate men would be made away with, the moment the Navvab should know for certain that an army had come out of Calcutta for his ruin. Is it not then proper and prudent, added the Governor, to endeavour to live upon some terms with that merciless, sanguinary man, until the prisoners can be recovered out of his hands? After which, it would be time to proceed on projects of war and revenge.” This reasonable speech made no effect; and, as the Counsellors greatly suspected their Governor, and thought themselves so certain of his being Mir-cassem’s protector, that they ascribed to artifice and to design the temporising party he had just now proposed; they rose up in the utmost violence of passion, and taking the paper on which Vansittart had written his proposal, they added at the bottom of it, That were all the prisoners to a man killed by Mir-cassem, they would not for a moment recede from their proposed revenge, or ever come to terms of accommodation with him. After saying so much, they all put their names to it. The Governor having perused the paper, which proved in the sequel the main voucher that cleared his character, folded it down, and put it in his pocket. He added, that now that their party was taken, it was incumbent upon them all to go immediately to Mir-djaafer-qhan’s lodgings, in order to proclaim that Prince, as enthroned in Mir-cassem’s stead; after which, it would be expedient to send him up to Moorshoodabad with the English army. This said, he got up, and taking all the Members with him, he went to Mir-djaafer-qhan’s, and offered him the Sovereignty of Bengal, and the services of the English forces. The Navvab, after some conversation on the subject,\(253\) consented to resume the Sovereignty, but it was under several conditions; and these with several respective stipulations were set to writing, and confirmed by oaths on both sides. A few days after, the English army having made all its preparatives, came out of Calcutta, and marched against Mir-cassem-qhan,\(254\) whose fortune, from that moment, seemed to verge to its decline, notwithstanding the considerable advantage he had gained over Mr. Ellis.
This unfortunate man was now sent to Monghyr, with all his followers, and all the artillery, arms, and effects that had been taken, either in the factory, or in camp, or at Backy-p8r; and the Navvab made him over to Ferhad-aaly’s care, but took the soldiers and other people under his own management, after having confined them in a place adjoining his own palace. As to the other English seized all over the country, and whom he had ordered to be put to the sword everywhere, the order was not literally executed; for numbers of them were spared, and their fate remained in suspense, until the Navvab’s people finding that the English army was acquiring a superiority, dismissed every one of them underhand; but some of the Navvab’s officers, who lived far towards the east, and at a distance from the English army, executed the order rigorously; and like men blinded by fate, they put their unfortunate prisoners to death. As to those confined at Monghyr, they were all under the care of Sheh-ferhad-aaly and Gurghin-qhan, and watched with the greatest attention. One day Doctor Fullarton, who was one of them, sent me word, requesting my interest with the Navvab, as he suffered hardships in confinement. The man had certainly a right to avail himself of my credit, such as it was, not only as being my particular friend, but also as having conferred favours upon me in his time, and rendered me important services; it even became a piece of policy in me to speak in his behalf, as I doubted not but the Navvab was by this time informed that the Doctor’s man had been with me; and it was certain that unless I prevented his suspicions, by informing him of the motive of the message, he would make a mighty affair of it. I therefore went to Court, and supplicated that Prince on the Doctor’s behalf, explaining my own case at the same time. I have no objection, said the Navvab, to your interference; it is for a friend. There is no harm in your taking notice of his distress at such a time as this. The Navvab spoke this indeed, but it was from the lip outwards; for he thereby reflected obliquely on my connections with the English. I answered, “My Lord Navvab, the Doctor is still more a friend of your Highness than he is of mine, and you were studious to oblige him. It is for that reason, I have supplicated you in his behalf. Please your Highness to inform me what favour you choose to confer upon him, that I may act accordingly. If he be your culprit, I have nothing to say to him; do with him as you shall think best.” At these last words he smiled, and calling for Sheh-ferhad-aaly, he looked at him full in the face, and then taking a serious air, “the Doctor,” said he,” has sent a message to Gh8lam-husséin-qhan; and as that nobleman is my friend, he has of his own motion given me notice of it. For aught I know, he may have sent a hundred such messages to a hundred more persons; and you, that have him under your charge, know nothing of the matter, nor do you mind what is before and what is behind\(255\). “Be more upon your guard, and take care that your prisoners suffer no hardship, either in their victuals, clothing, or any thing necessary; take care, also, that no messages of theirs, or of his, go through the army, for fear they may in time produce some mighty mischief.” Finding that the conversation took such a serious turn, I did not add a word, and the poor English continued to be strictly guarded and watched, to the time when the Navvab went to Azim-abad.
Meanwhile, the two armies from Calcutta, and from M8rsh8d-abad, were approaching each other. Mahmed-taky-qhan, who was really a man of talents, and worthy of command, could not be much pleased with seeing himself under the orders of Séyd mahmed-qhan, Deputy Governor of M8rsh8d-abad, a man incapable, and of little understanding. But indeed, how could he submit to such a man? The one was of a liberal generous temper, whilst the Deputy Governor was of a mean, sordid disposition. Hence the Governor was constantly blowing with his breath, the fire of enmity between that General and his colleagues, whilst himself lay roasting on the blazing fire of envy and jealousy; for he was unable to bear the General’s high character and great reputation. The latter was under the necessity of asking many necessaries, such as artillery, tackle, and carriages, which the other constantly refused, although, by his position in the city, and his being at the head of the treasury, he had a command over all those necessaries. He furnished them with slowness and reluctance, like one that wished no good to the success of his campaign, and would be glad to see him defeated. Nor had he common sense enough to feel all the consequences of such a conduct, and how ruinous it would prove to his master’s affairs, and at last to his own. Matters went on at that rate, until the troops, destined to reinforce Mahmed-taky-qhan, arrving from Monghyr, took their route through M8rsh8d-abad, where, there is no doubt, but the envious Deputy Governor engaged the Commanders to assert their own independence of that General, and by all means to procure his shame and defeat. This much is certain, that those Commanders who had orders to join the General, and to remain under his command, seemed to stand upon punctilioes. Instead of encamping with him, and acting in concert, as he requested them to do, they had the folly to go on the other side of the Bagraty, and to encamp there by themselves, but with the strong detachment they had brought. The next day, intelligence was brought that two English Battalions of Talingas had set out of a certain town where that nation had a factory; on which intelligence, the new arrived Commanders, who intended to attack them, sent word to Mahmed-taky-qhan, requesting to be assisted with some of his musqueteers. It must be observed, that this General’s musqeteers had acquired a character all over the country; he had raised their pay to ten rupees per month; divided them, as they do in Iran, by tens, hundreds, and thousands, with a Commander at each of those divisions; had increased the salary of those officers from fifteen to twenty, sixty, and a hundred rupees per month; had constantly exercised them himself, by making them fire at a mark under his own eyes, and had kept them himself in daily motion, and under constant training. To prevent their repining in long marches, he used to assist them with oxen, camels, and sumpter-horses, for their baggage; so that they were loaded only with their Djezáirs, or muskets of large bore, and with their ammunition. These troops of his being so armed and accoutred, were constantly kept in readiness, and prepared for immediate service, being all young, stout men, of his own choosing and picking. The request then was founded on reason; but although Mahmed-taky-qhan had no cause to be satisfied with those Commanders, that now applied for his assistance, yet, out of regard to his own character, and to his master’s service, he sent them a body of five hundred such men, under the command of Feramorz, a slave of his own breeding, who was their principal officer. Sheh-háibet-ollah then, and the other Commanders, having received this reinforcement, marched against the two battalions of the enemy; and, chiefly by the valour and perseverance of the brave Feramorz’s, he pushed the English Talingas back, after a sharp engagement, as far as the town and factory from whence they had set out. The environs of it were immediately secured, so as to prevent the enemy’s retreat.\(256\) At night the besieged battalions were reinforced by some others that flocked from Bardvan, and from other parts; and, the next morning, the whole came out in great order, so as to form a fine sight. The engagement then commenced anew. Then only did Sheh-háibet-ollah and Alem-qhan become sensible of the consequences of the caution which Mahmed-taky-qhan had given them, when he recommended their joining together, and fighting together. Terrified with the endless firing of the English, they seemed, after some fighting and some movements, to have lost their senses; for, now after a short conflict, most of the Djezai-árchies were slain or wounded; and the two Commanders, unable to stand the hot fire of the enemy’s, retreated, and then fled towards Mahmed-taky-qhan. The latter ordered the dead to be taken up from the field of battle, but refused to admit the runaways in his camp, or even to give them passage through it, for fear of their disordering his own encampment, and communicating their own terror and dismay to his troops. The English, after this victory, advanced two or three cosses towards their own army; and two or three days after, that is, the fifth of A. D. 1763. Muharrem, in the year 1177 of the Hegira, Mahmed-taky-qhan came out with a resolution to oppose the enemy’s march. Putting the foot of courage in the stirrup of steadiness, he mounted a horse whose motions were as fleet as the moments of his unfortunate rider’s existence; and, without applying for assistance to those three Commanders, whose duty it was to fight under his orders, he advanced to the field of battle, followed only by his own trained bands; the refractory Commanders continuing motionless in their encampment behind him. As his men were filing off, he spoke to them, reminded them of the character they bore all over the country, exhorted them to support the same, and promised them victory, if they would stand by him. All this was uttered with such an air of familiarity, that he seemed to be rather their companion than their General; and they were so animated with this kindness, and that air of fellowship, that in marching with the utmost alacrity, they were endeavouring to get the start of one another, and swore that they would sacrifice their lives for his honour. The General having formed his troops, and recommended to his officers to march in order, advanced to the enemy. The latter being soon in sight, the engagement commenced; and, as the firing of the cannon and musquetry on both sides grew warm, and both sides kept advancing, those who being overtaken by their fates, were shot at like so many marks, drank up, without hesitation, each in his post, the bitter cup presented them by death. Nevertheless, encouraged by their General, they kept advancing; and an appearance of victory being seen over Mahmed-taky-qhan’s troops, some disorder Bloody battle of Cutwa. and fluctuation, not unlike a defeat, were observed in the English ranks. The moment was becoming critical, when a ball of cannon wounded Mahmed-taky-qhan in the foot, and killed his horse, which fell sprawling on the ground. The General, without betraying any anguish, mounted another, and continued to advance, and to exhort his men; and he was now very near the ranks of the English, who, on their side advanced; but it was with this advantage over him, that in compliance with their rules of discipline, they advanced firing. At this moment a musket-ball entering at his shoulder, came out on the opposite side. That brave man, without betraying any emotion, assembled the hem of his garment, and throwing it over his shoulder, to conceal his wound from his men, he still advanced. The English were on the point of retreating; but they had placed an ambuscade at the bottom of a little river, which was full on his passage; and the General being arrived there, was looking out for a passage to come to hand-blows with them, when the ambuscade-men rising at once, made a sudden discharge full in his face, overthrew numbers of his followers, and lodging a bullet in his forehead,\(257\) that incomparable hero, who was the main prop of Mir-cassem-qhan’s fortune, hastened into eternity in the middle of his slaughtered soldiers. The rest, intimidated by the loss of their intrepid Commander, retreated in the utmost confusion, leaving the English in possession of victory, with a full reason for embracing each other. All this while Sheh-háibet-ollah and his colleagues kept themselves at a great distance, as mere spectators of a shew, but not daring now to stand their ground, they fled on all sides. The victorious English, after raising the wounded, and making them over to their chirurgeons, spent two or three days in taking some rest, and in setting to right their artillery and necessaries, and then they advanced towards M8rsh8d-abad.
On hearing this defeat, Séyd-mahmed-qhan, the Governor of that city, seemed to have lost his senses. Without shewing his face to the enemy, or making the least opposition; without even assembling his people, and securing, by a timely retreat, those numerous effects of his master’s, which he had in his custody; without exhibiting a spark of courage or a grain of firmness; he deserted his post, and fled towards Monghyr, in the utmost perturbation of mind. After that retreat, the city remaining without a ruler, Mirza-iredj-qhan, who lived this longwhile utterly neglected by Mir-cassem-qhan, availed himself of the opportunity to repair to the English army, where he congratulated Mir-djaafer-qhan on his accession to the throne, and being invested by him with the command over the city, he returned thither, and proclaimed his new master’s accession, by beat of drum; after which, he applied himself to the business of quieting the minds of the people, and of gaining the hearts of the principal citizens. Shortly after, Mir-djaafer-qhan himself arrived. A. D. 1763. It was on the twelfth of Muharrem, in the year 1177 of the Hegira. He made his entry into the city at the head of the English army, at which time there happened some commotions, and some disorders; the mob having found means to commit The English depose Mir-cassem, and reinstate Mir-djaafer. insolencies, and even to make some booty. After a stay of seven days, in which time he constantly resided in Aaly-verdy-qhan’s palace, which had become the seat of Government ever since that Prince’s demise, he on the seventh day quitted it with the English army, and marched against the enemy.
The death of such a Commander as Mahmed-taky-qhan could not but greatly affect his master, who, however, behaved with firmness on the occasion. He sent orders to Sheh-háibet-ollah, to make a stand in the plains of Sò8ty, and he dispatched thither a number of forces capable to face with effect a victorious enemy. This detachment was composed of six or seven thousand horse, under the command of Assed-ollah-qhan, Fodjdar of Narhoot-semáy, to which he added seven or eight regiments of Talingas, commanded by Marcar the Armenian, and by Somro the European, who had besides sixteen pieces of cannon, well mounted and well served. To these he joined a body of rocket-men, under the command of Mir-nassur, after having cautioned them all against dissensions and jealousies; his orders being to attack the enemy in the plain of Sò8ty, and to fight in concert. An order was also dispatched to Shir-aaly-qhan, Fodjdar of P8raniah, to assemble his forces and to cross the Ganga, in order to join the army at Sò8ty. This Shir-aaly-qhan, from being one of the meanest of Faqhr-eddin-husséin-qhan’s dependants, had been raised by Mir-cassem-qhan to high dignities; so that he came to command in the same place where had commanded Séyd ahmed-qhan, and his own master, Faqhr-eddin-husséin-qhan. Shir-aaly-qhan, on receiving the order, crossed the Ganga, and soon joined Assed-ollah-qhan; and these two Generals, by hastening their march, arrived at Sò8ty time enough to face the English. The two armies, as soon as they came in sight of each other, (and this happened on the 21st of Muharrem) proceeded directly to an engagement. Marcar the Armenian, and Somro the European, ranged their troops in lines upon the highway. Assed-ollah-qhan took his post on their right, with seven or eight thousand horse, and ten or twelve thousand foot; and at the left, Shir-aaly-qhan took his station, with two or three thousand of his men, on the opposite side, the English, who did not amount to more than three thousand men, ranged themselves in great order; and the engagement commenced immediately. But as the distance was such, that only the cannon on both sides could do any execution, the English kept advancing foot after foot with a measured pace; so that Assed-ollah-qhan, who pretended to much bravery and personal prowess, advanced likewise with his troops to about half a mile. At this very time the English were gaining a superiority over Marcar’s and Somro’s troops; so that on his being arrived so near, he proposed to come to hand-blows with the English; and all his officers being of the same opinion, Mir-beder-eddin-qhan, one of them, who commanded only a body of eighty horse, displayed his standard, and parted company with the main. I now part with you, said he, at the head of my little troop, but it is only to shew the way; and, rest assured, that the moment I hear you raise your war-cry,\(258\) and see you put your horse to a gallop, I will overtake, and then pass you. Only remember, that between putting your cavalry on a gallop, and falling pell-mell amongst the enemy, there must be no pause at all; and then, when we shall come to hand-blows, we shall behave as becomes brave men, and shall submit to whatever is to be our lot. After saying so much, he parted with the main, and stood upon the watch; when, on hearing the cry of Allah Ecber everywhere, and seeing that large body of horse in motion, he exhorted his men to follow him; and spurring his horse towards the enemy, he advanced on a full gallop. Meanwhile, Mir-nasser with the rocket-men had marched up to the English, whom he engaged so warmly, that the English Talingas opposed to Mir-bedr-eddin-qhan, to the number of about one battalion, fell into disorder, and retreated as far as the river side, where numbers threw themselves and perished, the water being somewhere above their armpits, and somewhere up to their necks. But in this charge, Mir-bedr-eddin had lost most of his men; and he had no more now than thirteen of them Battle of Sò8ty, much disputed. remaining, when a ball of a cannon threw his horse headlong on the ground, whilst another overthrew his brother. This was the time for Assed-ollah-qhan to appear; but, those that had followed that General, having seen numbers of their companions killed, and numbers wounded, had now lost courage on beholding so much carnage, and so many horses sprawling on the ground; and would not move any more, but paused at some distance from Mir-bedr-eddin. The latter, who had found his course stopped by a wall and a ditch, called out with all his might, and made many signs to Assed-ollah-qhan, to turn the Talingas with some infantry, and to cut their retreat; but he spoke to deaf men. Assed-ollah-qhan, intimidated by his loss, did not move at all; and the English officers, availing themselves of that pause, soon formed again, disengaged their artillery, and presented again a regular front to the enemy. On the other hand, Mir-nasser, who with his rocket-men had so closely engaged the English as to make them lose ground, finding that no one would come to his assistance, was thinking of a retreat; but even that being now unattainable, his men continued engaging the enemy, like people that held each other by the throat. The English, hard pressed, received from Major Adams orders to fix to the muzzles of their muskets certain iron spikes, like those of a spear; and this being done, the English, by applying their muskets to their breasts, presented a wall of spikes, which no enemy could pretend to pass, in order to come to hand-blows with them. This particular I had from several creditable persons of both nations, that were in the engagement, and present at the particular spot; and I have since heard it from Colonel Goddard, who was either a Captain or a Lieutenant at that engagement; and who affirmed likewise, that at Sò8ty the English had been fairly done for, had the enemy kept them in play a few days more in that sultry plain.\(259\) Mir-nasser, unable to push upon that row of pikes so as to approach nearer, was making, but in vain, signs with the hand and voice all the while, without being able to descry any one moving to his assistance. At last he despaired of victory; and, at this very moment, the English officers that had Marcar and Somro in front, seeing that those two Commanders were retreating, and leaving the field on that side clear of the enemy, detached three or four companies of Talingas to the assistance of that part of their army which was in distress; and those were no sooner re-inforced so unexpectedly, than they fell with fresh courage on the small unsupported number of those that had hitherto pressed so hard upon them. On the appearance of this re-inforcement, Mir-bedr-eddin quitted the engagement, and retreated leisurely; but Mir-nasser, who had the imprudence to stay with his little troop, had soon reason to repent of his temerity. He was soon fired at by the fresh detachment, and left his life in the field of braves. By this time Marcar the Armenian, and Somro the European, had already quitted the field of battle, to their eternal shame and infamy, and were retreating along the highway. They were soon followed by Assed-ollah-qhan, who soon lost himself in that field of dishonour and disgrace. Some others that yet stood their ground, finding themselves abandoned by their main, quitted the field of battle by troops; and the zephyr of success and victory blowing gently on the flagging standards of the English, unfurled their folds, and put them in the full possession of victory. The victors had the generosity to take up the wounded, and to make them over to those that could take care of them; and here I cannot help mentioning a singular fact which I have heard several times from Colonel Goddard, an officer who was only Lieutenant or Captain in that battle, and cuts now so great a figure at the head of the English forces in Decan: He used to say, that amongst the wounded spread in the field, and then taken up by the English, he had seen a man of Mir-cassem’s troops, who had received such a stroke of a sabre, as had cleft his skull in two pieces, so that the brains were set open. The man was half dead, nor were any hopes entertained of his remaining alive many hours more; nevertheless, as he was still breathing, the Doctor bound his head with his turband, and sent him to a place of shelter with the other wounded. Three days after, as Goddard was taking a survey of the wounded, about whom the Doctor was actually busy, he was astonished to see that the man whom he had seen before, was now sitting upon his hams, holding an hocca\(260\) of clay with both his hands, and smoking with a deal of composure; he seemed quite recovered of his wound, but, what is singular, had lost his sight entirely. Such was that miracle of Providence, and such that token of Divine dispensations! The enemy, dispersed and disheartened, made haste to the little stream of 8d8a-nala, where Mir-cassem had fortified a strong post against such emergencies as these, and here they stopped; and, after recovering from their fright, they joined those that were on duty in that post, and prepared for a vigorous defence.
The news of this ill success filled Mir-cassem’s breast with anxiety, and dismay, and doubts. He had already, on Mahmed-taky-qhan’s death, taken measures for sending his family, seraglio, and treasures, to the fortress of Rhotas. He now dismissed a vast number of women, which he kept for show only, and in conformity to the custom of the Indian Princes; and these being not for his use, and serving only to encumber his motions, were all set at liberty, with full permission to dispose of themselves; but his own consort, who was Mir-djaafer-qhan’s daughter, together with his favourite ladies, and his treasures and effects, were sent by land and by water to that fortress, under the care of Mir-suléiman-qhan, his steward, of Radja-Nobet-ráy, his favourite, and of some other trusty persons. It was in this state of emigration that some alteration was perceived in the minds and behaviour of his undutiful servants, and ungrateful dependants; although such was the dread entertained still of their master’s exactitude and severity, that none had yet dared to betray any impudence in their actions, or trouble the accustomed order, or transgress the usual defences. Intelligence coming at this time of the defeat at Sò8ty, his situation became more difficult than ever; and he resolved to avail himself of the stand that would be made at 8d8a-nala, to retreat from the castle of Monghyr, and to march towards Azim-abad. The 8d8a is a little deep river that comes from the hills of Radj-mahal on the south, and empties itself in the Ganga in a small plain covered with thorns and brambles. Its banks are steep, lofty, and so beset as to afford no passage anywhere but with extreme difficulty, if at all; and it was upon that little river that Mir-cassem had ordered a bridge of brick and stone-work to be raised some months before. He had seen and admired the natural strength of that part, and had ordered a deep ditch to be dug beyond the little river, and a strong rampart or intrenchment to be raised behind it, so as that the ditch and rampart might extend from the foot of the hills down to the Ganga, leaving between them and the little river, a sufficient plain for encamping troops. The ditch was deep, had a wooden bridge over it, and joined a lake and morass which coming from the foot of the hills, encompassed a great part of the intrenchment, and greatly contributed to its defence in front; so that the only passage betwixt Monghyr and Radj-mahal lay over that ditch and through that intrenchment, which was fortified with a number of towers, that gave it the appearance of a castle. Nor was it possible to go to the right, unless indeed by mounting or descending the Ganga in boats; and this was impracticable, when there were troops to oppose such an attempt; nor indeed to the left, unless by wading through an impassable morass, or by climbing over the hills. It was in consequence of such considerations as these that Mir-cassem had beforehand ordered that spot to be carefully fortified, considering it as fully capable to stop an enemy. He now put a strong body of troops in those intrenchments; and to encourage them the more, he informed them that he would march to their support. He then fixed a favourable day for his setting out; and quitting the castle of Mongher, he sent his spare tents forwards, encamped in the neighbourhood, and gave orders for assembling troops; but as he was conversant in astrology, he had taken care to find out the favourable moment for commencing his march. After these precautions he set out on the twenty-fourth of Muharrem, A. D. 1763. in the year 1177, of the Messenger’s flight; it was in the nighttime, which he always deemed favourable to his affairs. But by this time a sanguinary disposition had made its appearance in his character, which had received additional strength from Gurghin-qhan’s insinuations, and also from a review of the state of his own affairs. And as his mind had been soured by the alteration which he now observed amongst the Grandees of his Court; and the conjuncture required that he should dispose of his prisoners of State, who were in great numbers; he resolved to put all those unfortunate men to death; especially as he had already a variety of suspicions on their account, and they had filled his mind with tormenting anxieties; they were too numerous to be kept under command, and too dangerous to be dismissed. A list of their names I never saw, but I know several of them. Of that number were Ram-naráin, heretofore Deputy-Governor of Azim-abad, as well as Radja Radj-bull8b, who had himself enjoyed that office, after having been a long time before Divan and Prime Minister to Nevazish-mohammed-qhan, and in the sequel, to Miren, son to Mir-djaafer-qhan. This unfortunate man had all his sons with him. Some others of those prisoners were the Ráy-ráyan Umid-ráy, with his son, the Zemindars of Ticary, Radja Fateh-sing and Radja B8niad-sing, and also Sheh-abdollan, the same who had been heretofore confined at P8raniah. There were numbers of other persons of distinction and characters, all which were dispatched to the regions of non-existence. I have heard it said that Ram-naráin had been drowned in the Ganga, with a bag of sand fastened to his neck; and probably the others also were dismissed out of this world in the like manner.\(261\) All this while the unfortunate English prisoners continued to be guarded with the utmost care; and although Gurghin-qhan was in haste to get rid of them also, his advice for that single time was not listened to by Mir-cassem, who conceived that some advantage might accrue to his affairs from keeping them alive. It was at this setting out from Monghyr that his troops, in consequence of that infamous disposition so natural to Hindians, (who never fail to become insolent and unruly upon any change of affairs) commenced shewing themselves disobedient and refractory. With this temper of theirs he thought proper to put up, as his affairs required much dissimulation, and much forbearance; and in this disposition of mind he arrived at Champa-nugur, where he tarried a few days, to review the troops destined for the defence of the post of 8d8a-nala, which he now strengthened in such a manner that he expected it would bar the passage of the English exactly like a wall.
It must be observed, that some time before this, on sending Mahmed-taky-qhan, to fight the enemy, he had expressed a desire to have such a renowned warrior as Camcar-qhan in his service, having always been studious to procure men of military talents; and he had recommended that affair to Aaly-hibrahim-qhan. The latter found means to bring the Radja to camp, where, on his arrival, he was taken into favour, and assigned a a salary suitable to his rank; but as Mir-cassem thought proper to carry him to Champa-nugur, where he tarried a few days, this opportunity put Gurghin-qhan upon proposing to join the new General to those that defended 8d8a-nala. Camcar-qhan answered, “That there were more troops already at that post than there was need; more indeed than the intrenchments would hold; so that most of them were useless; and, he added, that by going thither himself, he would become only one of the latter class; better then that some Commander-in-Chief should be sent thither to bring that multitude under some order, and to make it fight in concert.” This conversation having been protracted to some length, Camcar-qhan could not help asking the Armenian General, What he could possibly know of war, and whether he had ever seen a war or a battle? You had better hear what I tell you, added he; it is advantageous to your master, and will prove so in the sequel. Such a style was more than the other had been accustomed to. He complained to his master that Camcar-qhan would not go to the intrenchments of 8d8a-nula, and that it appeared that Aaly-hibrahim-qhan had dissuaded him from it. This insinuation made its full eflect; and Mir-cassem, in conversation with the latter, could not help dropping many expressions that alluded to the latter’s share in that revolution. The purport of it was, “That it seemed that Camcar-qhan was not pleased to go to a warfare not of his own, possibly because he intended upon a reverse of fortune to fall upon his rear (the Navvab’s), and to plunder his baggage, the moment he should find an opportunity for it. Gurghin-qhan says so, at least,” added Mir-cassem; “possibly to close with our proposal, he wants first of all your advice.” To this speech Aaly-hibrahim-qhan answered, “That it was easy to bring the matter to a trial. Let me be confined,” said he, “as an hostage for Camcar-qhan’s behaviour; and let him be sent on any service which your Highness may advise; and I will stand the consequences of his defection.” These few words were pronounced with warmth; so that Mir-cassem thought it proper to make him some apology; and this concession engaged that nobleman to relate exactly what had passed between the Armenian and Camcar-qhan. On hearing which, Mir-cassem himself acknowledged, that the intrenchments at 8d8a-nulla required a Commander-in-Chief; but the difficulty was where to find such a man? Aaly-hibrahim-qhan answered, that at present, the only fit man he could think of, would be Gurghin-qhan himself, although it was probable he would decline going upon that service. Mir-cassem answered that he had no objections; and, on the Qhan’s saying that it was an easy matter to put the whole to the trial, Mir-cassem proposed that command to Gurghin-qhan. That General answered, “That what his Highness had represented with regard to 8d8a-nulla, was an article of which himself was thoroughly informed; but that in such times of confusion and tumult and perfidy as these, he could not part with His Highness, to whose foot he had made fast his own feet and destiny; so that it would be highly improper in him to leave His Highness alone.” In this manner Gurghin-qhan did not go; and Aaly-hibrahim-qhan, to clear his own character, engaged Camcar-qhan to make an expedition into Birbohom, with intent to put that country under contribution, and to raise on the backs of the English such a flame as would put a stop to their progress, by impeding their motions. The project was good; but destiny was not on that side; for, before Camcar-qhan could arrive there, the fate of 8d8a-nulla was already decided and over; and the man, impeded and stopped everywhere by inundations and by the rains, which are excessive all over Bengal, could make no incursions, and was obliged to come back. After the defeat at 8d8a-nulla, he made the best of his way over the hills, and returned to his own country, without being able to rejoin Mir-cassem.
Whilst the latter lay encamped on the little river of Champa-nugur, he was joined by Mirza-nedjef-qhan, a warrior of consequence. This Commander, who is now Generalissimo of the Emperor of Hindostan, and the Lord of Lords of his Court, was one of the sons of the Sadr-el-s8d8r of Iran\(262\), and a near relation of Mirza-muhsen’s, who was himself brother to Ab8l-mans8r-qhan, father to Shudjah-ed-döulah. This warrior, tired and shocked with that train of endless perfidies which disgraced that Prince’s conduct, had quitted his dominions to seek his fortune elsewhere; and he was now arrived in camp with a small number of troopers, in quest of service. Mir-cassem, who thought his arrival advantageous to his affairs, received him in his service, and, on his own request, sent him to join the defenders of 8d8a-nulla. There was a large number of troops in those intrenchments; and the artillery was equally numerous. The latter, with the Talingas, was commaded by Marcar the Armenian, by Somro the European, and by Arat8n, another Armenian. The other troops were commanded by Assed-ollah-qhan, who had with him Mahmed-naky-qhan and several other Commanders, such as Aalem-qhan, and Djaafer-qhan, and Sheh-háibet-ollah, and Mir-himmet-aaly the Paymaster; all of whom were at the head of their respective corps, but all of whom trusted so much to the natural strength of that post, and to the impractibility of the enemy’s forcing this passage, that they became negligent in their duty; for most of the officers that had any money, made it a practice, on the beginning of the night, to gorge themselves with wine, and to pass the remainder of it in looking at the performances of dance-women, or in taking them to their beds. But Mirza-nedjef-qhan thought only how to signalise himself. Having joined to his troops some picked men from those commanded by Mir-mehdy-qhan, brother to Assed-ollah-qhan, and some more from amongst those in the immediate corps of Mir-cassem’s, he resolved to raise his character by some action of eclat. On reviewing often the intrenchment in that part which touched to the foot of the hills, he had picked an important intelligence from many of the highlanders, namely, that at that particular part there was a ford through the lake and morass, which led safely to the English encampment. Mirza-nedjef-qhan, upon this intelligence, came out at about three o’clock in the morning, and falling upon that part of the English camp, (and there Mir-djaafer-qhan had his quarters) he occasioned so much tumult and consternation in it, that the old Navvab fled to his boats, and was going to drop down the river, when the English sent a body of Talingas to his assistance. On sight of these, Nedjef-qhan, who had made an ample booty, returned within the intrenchment again; but as he made a practice of such sorties, the English confounded at their repetition, commenced examining from whence these men could possibly come out. Fortune came to their assistance in that inquiry. The path by which Nedjef-qhan used to make his sorties, had been taken notice of by an English soldier, who having fled from his own nation, had been long ago in Mir-cassem’s service. This man, who according to the rules of service amongst the English, would have been put to death, had he fallen in their hands, had set out in the darkness of the night, and had gone through the ford, setting several marks on his passage; and, being come out upon dry ground, he approached within hearing of the English sentries, and cried out in the English language, “That he was such a one; and that if they would procure his pardon, he would find means to carry his brethren over the intrenchment.” Fortune sided with this man. There happened to be upon duty at that part some English Officers, who recollected his voice, and these assured him, with a solemn oath, that his life would be safe, and that he might come over in full safety. Upon these assurances, he marched up to them, informed them of what he had observed, and on a certain night he promised to return, and to shew them the ford. This interval was employed by the English in providing ladders, and every requisite for an assault, and escalade. At the appointed time, which was about ten o’clock at night, the man made his appearance, and took with him a Battalion of Grandils,\(263\) being a body of picked men, in which Colonel Goddard served then as Lieutenant. The latter had orders on his getting upon the intrenchment, to raise as high as he could a mashal, or burning taper,\(264\) as a signal of his being there. The Battalion of Grandils putting their arms and ammunition upon their heads, went into the lake under the guidance of the soldier; and, after having waded about a mile, with the water sometimes at their middle, and sometimes at their arm-pits, they arrived about midnight, at the foot of the intrenchment or wall, where they found every body fast asleep. This sight had its full effect upon those courageous English. Applying their ladders in silence, they got upon the rampart in an instant, where a fifer, who happened to awake, having pretended to give the alarm with his instrument, was instantly dispatched with bayonets; this being an arm not unlike the iron of a pike, which the English carry at their muskets, and of which they make great use. The whole number being now got up, they formed their ranks, and raised up the burning taper, that had been agreed upon for a signal. At the sight of this, the English, who waited only for it, assembled in great numbers, and gave an alarm at the gate and bridge over the fossé. A furious fire of cannon, mortars, and musquetry, immediately poured upon that part; whilst the battalion that had got within on the opposite side, commenced firing upon those they met on their march. On the first discharge numbers were slain, and numbers were wounded; amongst which last was Mahmed-naky-qhan, Mir-himmet-aaly, the Gazip8rian Paymaster, being of the former number; and the terror and dismay became so great everywhere, that whoever chanced to get awake, thought of nothing but of making his escape, and flying with all his might. The runaways, in their flight towards the gate and stone bridge, overturned those that were encamped there. Some were tumbled into the river, and escaped on the other side; but numbers were carried away and drowned. Meanwhile, those of the English who were yet without the intrenchment, having taken notice of the consternation and astonishment that had seized the beseiged, got quietly over the wall, and placing a pahara of theirs (which consists of six or seven men) on the small bridge that served for a passage over the river, they seemed to have shut up a whole army within The strong post at 8d8a is surprised and forced by the English. a net. Those, who like Somro and Marcar, and some others, had already passed the bridge, escaped with their lives; but the others, who amounted to a multitude, innumerable, did not fare so well; and whoever came towards the bridge, was stopped short by the sentry posted there, (which word in their language signifies a watchman) and commanded to lay down his arms and accoutrements, and to part with his horse; after which, he was suffered to pass naked and disgraced. This, however, was not the fate of Nedjef-qhan. With a few troopers that stuck to him, he found means to escape over the hills; and Assed-ollah-qhan, after flying two full cosses on foot, at last got a horse, and continued August. his flight. Those that had escaped in the beginning of the alarm, continued their route with their arms and baggage; but those that had passed after the bridge had been secured, were naked and destitute of every thing, so as to cut the most August. piteous figure, on their appearing in Mir-cassem’s camp. This surprise and assault happened on the night of the 26th of Sefer, A. D. 1763. in the year 1177 of the Prophet’s flight; and, at about seven o’clock in the morning, the whole of the numerous troops in that intrenchment was totally defeated and dispersed; nor could any thing be descried but runaways in the greatest distress.\(265\)
After so signal a success, the English took some repose for a couple of days. On the second or third day after this disaster, the intelligence having been carried to Mir-cassem, the man seemed broke in two by the middle; he betrayed every mark of grief and affliction, and passed the whole day in the utmost anguish of mind, and in the highest despondency. At night, he sent for Gurghin-qhan, and spent much time in consultation with him. Gurghin-qhan advised him to continue the war; but Mir-cassem, at about four o’clock the next morning, got upon his elephant, and without speaking a word to any one, he returned to Mongher. His troops, on hearing of his departure, followed him corps after corps. Being arrived in the above town, he stopped two or three days, both to get out of the fortress the few effects he had left there, and to review his army; by which last operation he expected to discover how his troops were affected towards his person, and how they stood in their sentiments of obedience and attachment. The review seemed to revive his spirits; and, this being observed by his nearest friends, Aaly-hibrahim-qhan, who had already supplicated him for the release of his English prisoners, now thought this a favourable moment for renewing his intreaties; and he observed how much renown he would acquire by releasing the principal amongst them at least. The nobleman being repulsed, asked that at the least, he might vouchsafe to release the women, which were amongst them, as they might be sent by boats to Major Adams, and after all proved but an incumbrance. The request did not please the Navvab; and he answered, that he ought to say all that to Gurghin-qhan. The latter therefore was applied to, but he answered by asking, in a peevish tone of voice, Where one might now find boats enough for such a multitude? and he paid no further regard to so proper and so honourable a proposal. Mir-cassem, the day before his departure, appointed one Areb-aaly-qhan to command in the castle of Mongher, with two Battalions of Talingas. This was an Arabian from the vilest populace of Bagdad, equally coward and quarrelsome, but, however, who had the merit of being a dependant of Gurghin-qhan’s. After this he marched towards Azim-abad, carrying with him Mr. Hay, Mr. Ellis, and Mr. Lushington, with the other English prisoners. The difficulties and numerous hardships which he was obliged to encounter, on his journey over a country submerged or full of mire, are not to be described, no more than the many misfortunes he met with on his way, especially at the river Rehva. A bridge of boats had been run over it, but still, the horses and other animals being obliged to swim for their passage, were carried away in numbers. Some people preceded the army; and I was of the number, as well as Y8s8f-aaly-qhan, with Mir-shetary, and Mirza-bakyr, and Mirza-abdollah, the two sons of Aga-Mirza. We all joined together, passed the bridge at Reva, and reposed ourselves for one day. The second night, the date of which I cannot remember, a mighty revolution happened suddenly, and an important event took place unexpectedly. Gurghin-qhan was killed; and that ill-fated man, in retribution for his malicious temper of mind, was hastily sent over the stream that divides this world from the other.\(266\) This strange event happened in the following manner:—Gurghin-qhan, who was upon ill terms with all the world, but who studied the English in every thing, wanted to carry a high hand over the soldiery; and, in a time of confusion and misfortune, he strove to keep them under that strictness of discipline, which he had seen practised amongst those of that nation. He was not aware that this power of the English over their soldiers, was a gift of Providence, and that those strangers had found the art of turning the particular customs of their country into a second nature in their troops.
| “Great will ever be the distance between the pattern and the copy.” |
How could the poor Armenian, after having sold cloth by the yard throughout his whole life, pretend, that with an authority of only two days’ standing, he would be able to pass such rules of strict obedience and discipline over a nation, not his own, and which was not yet accustomed to so much regularity and strictness?
| “The crow, wholly intent on learning the linnet’s note, |
| Forgot to look at its own black coat first of all.” |
The Navvab having taken post on the banks of the Rehva, where he tarried two or three days, Gurghin-qhan, who conformably to his custom, always came the last of all, and always encamped by himself, was actually in his tent, when two or three Mogul troopers from amongst those he had disciplined and trained himself, came and asked something about their pay. The General answered in an angry, peevish manner; but the two men, availing themselves of the unprosperous state of affairs, and of the revolution that had taken place, had the daringness to speak with violence. Gurghin-qhan, without attending to the difference of times, screamed out, What? Is there no one there to take these men into confinement? He had hardly uttered these few words, when those men finding themselves alone with him, drew their sabres, and in three or four strokes, stretched him on the ground; and, their horses being just at the door, they got upon them in an instant, and fled through the fields. The servants having immediately raised an outcry, which brought General Marcar, another Armenian, the latter, on descrying the troopers beyond the reach of a musket-ball, fired at them with two or three pieces of cannon that were at hand, loaded with grape; and the report of the cannon being heard by Mir-cassem’s army, which was at a small distance, every one concluded that the English were arrived, and already engaged with Gurghin-qhan. Instantly Mir-cassem had the same thought; instantly he got upon his elephant, and took to the fields. At the same time, a general scream, and now and then some confused cries, coming from Gurghin-qhan’s quarters, struck such a terror into Mir-cassem’s camp, and especially amongst the sutlers and other market-men, that the whole of them, without making the least inquiry, fled on all sides, most of them towards the bridge on the Rehva. The multitude, which was encamped with me on the other side of the river, surprised to see crowds of runaways endlessly pouring upon them, catched their fears and trepidation; and, night coming on, nothing was heard but cries and screams. But as every one was involved in the general confusion, and saw the mob running to and fro, like so many mad men, whilst the great ones ware advancing in haste with burning tapers; such a sight thunderstruk Y8s8f-aaly-qhan, one of our company, who, being as well as Mirza-bakyr, August. full as much frightened as any other, resolved at any rate to inquire into the cause; and then sent people to take some information A. D. 1763. from the runaways. But every one of these giving a different answer, served only to perplex. This diversity augmented our consternation, as there was no getting certain information about the tumult; and some people conceived causes,\(267\) which they did not dare to mention, for fear of Mir-cassem’s resentment. All these discordant reports, however, agreed in one point; and this was, in producing some piece of extravagant news, which being spread in a twinkle amongst the runaways, increased their fears, and added to the confusion. Meanwhile, the throng became innumerable at the bridge, and the passage being now dangerous, seemed to retrace an idea of the bridge of Serátt, at the Day of Judgment; for the crowds were now pouring in such numbers on both sides, that the passage became impracticable for people on foot. Elephants and carts cut their ways through the multitudes; and as their treading over the boards of the flooring, forced the boats to strike against each other, the noise bore a likeness to a report of distant firing of cannon. News even came that the English had gained the victory; and as it was thought that the little river only divided the combatants, people prepared their cannon also on this side; and Y8s8f-aaly-qhan, resolved either to pack up his baggage, and get ready at all events, or to run away to some place of shelter. But he was prevented by Mir-shetari and myself, who insisted on some information. At about midnight the uproar commenced subsiding; and I sent a trusty servant, with orders to stop on this side of the bridge; and as soon as he should discover any person of some consequence, to let him pass first, and then only to ask him what was the matter. The man did as he was bid; and, stopping at the bridge, he saw a close paleky making towards it with three or four horsemen attending; the man walked a while with them, and then asked whose lady was in the close paleky? One of the horsemen answered, It is not a lady; it is Gurghin-qhan’s corpse. We carry it to the fields for burial. It is the Navvab’s order.\(268\) On this answer, the man returned with this intelligence, and made us all easy; so that we passed the remainder of the night quietly nough. On the morning, Mir-cassem himself passed the river, and encamped on the spot where we were. The next day, he advanced to the town of Bar, where he ordered Djagat-seat-mahtab-ráy, and Radja Ser8p-chund, his brother, to be hacked to pieces.\(269\) After that, he marched on, and took up his quarters in Djaafer-qhan’s garden, close to Azim-abad; from whence he sent orders to put the citadel in repair, having appointed Mahmed-amin-qhan, with a fresh body of troops, for its defence.
A few days after that, on hearing that the English had possessed themselves of the fortress of Mongher by treason, his temper, soured by misfortunes and perfidies, broke all bounds. Incensed beyond measure at so unexpected a reverse, and mistrusting the future still more than the past, he gave orders to Somro, the European, to put to death all the prisoners of that nation;\(270\) and that man, of a flint-like heart, without any regard to the ties which bound him to those unfortunates, who were of the same Christian religion with him, accepted the commission without horror, and without reluctance. That stony man repaired to the house, then called Hadji-ahmed’s, where those ill-fated people were confined, (and which having become the burying-ground of the English since that day, has had its name altered accordingly); and without the least hesitation, or the least remorse, he ordered all those unarmed men to be killed with musket-balls. It is roported, that in such a moment of distress and perturbation, those unfortunate men, without losing courage, marched up to their murderers, and, with empty bottles, and stones, and brickbats, fought them to the last man, until they were all killed. It appears, that two or three days before this event, they had contrived, by the means of their servants, to procure abroad a number of muskets equal to their number, with ammunition sufficient for their purpose. But they did not come to hand; for, had they succeeded in this attempt, they were resolved to make their escape by main force; and if not, to kill so many men in their own defence, as should avenge their death, and do honour to their memory. Of all the prisoners, not a man remained alive, save Doctor Fullarton, who, by assisting professionally most of the Grandees of the Court, had endeared himself to them; he even had Mir-cassem himself for an acquaintance and friend. The next morning after the massacre, of which as yet I knew nothing, I went to Court, and, after a stay of one hour, I got up to pay my bow and to be gone. Stay, said the Navvab, your friend is coming. As I knew nothing of what had happened, I could not help asking with surprise, who was that friend, and from whence he came? The Navvab answered, Well, you may go, I shall send for you again. On this answer I returned to my tents, which were in Aaly-hibrahim-qhan’s compound, and I sate down full dressed, expecting to be sent for again. In a little time, a mace-bearer came to tell me that I was wanted. I went immediately, and was hardly seated in the Navvab’s presence, when I descried Doctor Fullarton coming. He wore an Hindostany dress, and presented, in compliance with the custom of these countries, a few rupees, in nuzur, to the Navvab. The latter declined taking them, and graciously added these words: There was no such custom between you and me hitherto; and, having embraced him, he bid him go and sit by his friend. The Doctor came, and seated himself close to me. A moment after, the Navvab looking at him steadfastly, uttered these words: Fraud with friends and treason with acquaintances! What did you mean by that? You have received under your roof within the town, a number of armed men, as sick; and have let them out again the night in which they have surprised the city walls. The Doctor, without the least dismay or fear, answered in a firm tone of voice, My Lord Navvab, I do not fear death. You have killed all those countrymen of mine. Do kill me, likewise; you may, you are the master. But never will I admit that I am guilty of treason. I have not done that. If it be proved against me, I am content even now that you order me to be put to death. After saying these words, he chanced to spy Akyidet-mend-qhan, brother to the famous Emir-qhan, who was sitting over against him, a nobleman, whose house at Azim-abad was parted from that of the Doctor’s only by a wall. “That nobleman,” said the Doctor, again, “is my neighbour. Ask him; inquire from whom you please.” As really the accusation, had no foundation, the nobleman in question vouched for the Doctor’s innocence, and said, that the Doctor was not guilty. On this assertion, the Navvab paused again, and putting on an air of kindness, he bade him go to Calcutta, if he had a mind to it; or else, he might remain with him. The Doctor had the prudence to decline going to Calcutta. The Navvab intended to avail himself of his mediation to renew with Governor Vansittart, and to come to some accommodation. But, on observing his reluctance, he turned to me, and said, The man must be given to understand—but you shall do that when you are by yourselves. The word, by yourselves, gave me some concern, lest I might fall under the imputation of having advised something contrary to his will. But yet, obliged to comply with his commands, I took the Doctor behind a curtain, and spoke to him as I had been directed. The man shook his head, and said, “That after Mr. Amyatt’s murder, it was impossible to think of peace, and, over and above that, all his countrymen had been put to death last night.” This conversation I reported to the Navvab, who calling the Doctor up, desired Aaly-hibrahim-qhan and myself, to sit close to him, as associates in the consultation. The Doctor answered again, “All that is utterly impossible; first, because the army which actually is on the road, will not suffer me to pass; but, on the supposition that I shall find no obstacle, still my going would answer no purpose at all. The murder of Mr. Amyatt, a man quite innocent, is so infamous an action, as will for ever render ineffectual every proposal for an accommodation.” At these words, the Navvab himself, who had now totally despaired of success, remained silent. A moment after, he said, Since you cannot go, you may remain where you please. The Doctor replied, that wherever His Highness should bid him remain, there he would find himself very well. At last the Navvab made him over to Aaly-hibrahim-qhan, and bid him take care of his friend, and provide lodgings for him in the city, with the precaution, however, of putting some trusty persons at the door, to prevent his having any intercourse abroad; and, he added, that he must take a security from the Doctor. The latter, on being informed of the Navvab’s order, produced Mirza-himmet-aaly for security; and this nobleman acknowledged himself as such by a writing under his hand and seal. A lodging being provided for the Doctor, proper persons were appointed at his gate. Two days after Mirza-himmet-aaly, with Aaly-hibrahim-qhan’s consent, applied to the Navvab for their removal; and the latter having consented, the Doctor remained at full liberty. But this Prince hearing now that the English, after having taken the castle of Mongher, were marching towards Azim-abad, thought proper to quit his station at Djaafer-qhan’s garden, and, marching to the other side of the city, he encamped at Poholvary.
Mongher was taken in the following manner: The English laid siege to the castle; and Areb-aaly-qhan, the Governor, who was naturally a coward, and one who augured no good from his master’s affairs, sent them word, that if they would give him a sum of money, he would surrender the fortress. The English, who were anxious to pursue Mir-cassem, consented to what he asked; and a certain sum having been paid the man, he gained the garrison to his party, and surrendered the place. The English put a garrison into it, and marched to Azim-abad; but Mir-cassem not thinking it prudent to remain so near the enemy, advanced towards Bucrem, a town at eleven cosses from Azim-abad, and now reduced to ruins, where he encamped. From that camp he had the advantage of being master of the western gate of the city, which was covered by a wet ditch, and that of keeping open his communication with that fortress, to which he could occasionally send troops for its defence; for, he was sensible that the English could not turn the city, as the southern part of it was defended by a lake full of water. It was at this time likewise, that Ahmed-qhan-coréishy, who, since Ram-narain’s confinement, had always been in disgrace, was sent for again, and taken into favour. His estate and lands were restored to him, and he even received some money to repay his charges. It was at this time also that Mir-abboo, son to Mir-cudret-ollah, and grandson to Sheh-shukur-ollah, the Cadyrain, rose into favour. He had hitherto lived neglected and in disgrace, on account of his connections with Mir-djaafer-qhan; when, by one of the most strange revolutions that can be conceived, he was sent for, and raised so high, that he aspired at ten times more credit and authority, than had fallen to the lot of Gurghin-qhan himself. He thought himself equal to the task of propping and shoring up the tottering edifice of Mir-cassem’s prosperity; and he applied himself intensely to the business of disciplining the army, and defending Azim-abad; to which he used often to repair. The troops, observing his rising favour, accustomed themselves to respect his person, and to avail themselves of his recommendation in their applications to their master. This new favourite, one day, having found a favourable moment, observed to the Navvab, that it was improper to leave the Doctor in the power of Aaly-hibrahim-qhan’s people. Mir-cassem, who was now become more suspicious than ever, and stood like a blank sheet of paper, ready to receive any impression that might be stamped thereon, said to Aaly-hibrahim-qhan, that he must now make the Doctor over to others. The Qhan answered, “That His Highness, probably, did not recollect, that the day when the Doctor had found a security, he had himself ordered his guards to be dismissed; upon which order,” added he, “I withdrew a few people of my own, whom I had appointed to watch over his person; and now, whatever your commands may be, will not fail to be obeyed.” This conversation of the Navvab’s having been imparted underhand by the Qhan to the Doctor, the latter, who saw his guards changed, suspected that something was in agitation against his person; and he thought it high time to contrive some expedient by which he might extricate himself. Having found means to procure some people for himself, he would not admit Mir-abboo’s guards within the house, under pretence, that without an order from the Navvab, he could not follow them. Mir-abboo having availed himself of these words to attack the Doctor’s character, got some spies, or harcaras, and some considerable officers residing in town, to subscribe a paper, by which they attested that Aaly-hibrahim-qhan, in defiance of the order of His Highness, had not made the Doctor over to Mir-abboo. Mir-cassem, who was fully sensible of the declension of his fortune, and knew how much reproachful words would seem to be out of season, contented himself with mentioning the Doctor’s plea. The Qhan answered, that he had from the very first order recalled his own people, and left the Doctor to himself. “Let then whoever pretends to be my servant,” added he, “be brought hither and examined; and let him be punished as a liar and impostor, by Mir-abboo’s people.” The Doctor, whilst those disputes were taking place at camp, was gone to the Dutch factory; where, having prevailed by dint of money on the Master of an old condemned boat, to ferry him over to Hadjipoor, where there were some English troops, he got into that crazy vessel with Mirza-himmet-ally, his security, and put off from shore. On sight of this, the guards appointed to prevent any boat from crossing over, or even from moving at all, made haste to embark in other boats, and they went in pursuit of her. But the Doctor was already in the middle of the river, where, being spied by the English on the other side of the water, who saw distinctly a crazy boat endeavouring to make her escape, they threw themselves into some boats at hand, and flew to his assistance; so that the guards being intimidated by this appearance, returned, and left the Doctor at liberty to land amongst his friends. The Navvab, hearing of this escape, ascribed the whole contrivance to Aaly-hibrahim-qhan; but the times were not favourable for such an inquiry.
By this time the English being arrived at Azim-abad, marched along the streets and markets to a house close to Mirza-qhalil’s quay, which now goes by the name of Maar8ff-gunj; and planting their cannon there, they commenced battering the citadel. But, as the wall in that part consisted only of some brick-work, hardly made up with mud, it soon gave way, and afforded a large breach. The English, with dint of cannon-balls and bombs, drove the besieged from it, and at day-break, they got into the citadel, and from thence into the city. On the first news of the breach being made, Mir-cassem had dispatched some thousand horse to attack the English, under the command of his own nephew, Mir-abboo-aaly-qhan, and of his Paymaster, Mir-roshen-aaly-qhan. These officers having set out from camp in the evening, marched the whole night, and in the morning they arrived near the city, resolved to advance under cover by Mehdy-gundj and Begum-poorah, in order to come out at the Naqhas, or Horse-market, where they intended to commence their attack on the back of the besiegers. Being arrived near Shah-medjnoon’s\(271\) hospice, they heard from the runaways that the English had got into the citadel by the breach, and from thence into the city. These words struck them with dismay. At first they stood motionless, and doubtful whether they were to fall to or to retreat; when at once, some English Talingas, who had advanced as far as the western gate, suddenly made their appearance on the outside of it. At sight of this, all that body of cavalry, without taking notice of the smallness of their number, or inquiring whether they were followed by more, disbanded at once, and fled with so much blindness and precipitation, that some threw themselves headlong into the lake, where they were drowned; and others, in endeavouring to cross over, stuck in the mire and clay, and miserably perished. Roshen-aaly-qhan himself was amongst the latter. In his flight, he fell headlong into a deep place, lost his horse and turband, and escaped with his slippers in his hand, in which wretched condition he arrived in camp. Mir-cassem, finding that fortune had turned her back upon him totally, and was now siding with his enemies, conceived that he had no other part left, but that of a retreat. He therefore decamped, and Mir-Cassem being totally ruined, thinks of taking shelter in Shudjah-ed-döulah’s dominions. marched to Muhib-aaly-poor. There Mir-abdollah, overcome by the thoughts of parting with his house, consort, family, and property, quitted the army without leave, and, having cut his way with all the pains imaginable through crowds of peasants intent on plunder, he arrived in town with only his person; and, such silent retreats becoming now of fashion, Ahmed-qhan-coréishy soon was of the number. Such a desertion, after all, was of a piece with his character, as well as with that of many others. On Mir-cassem’s forgiving his misdemeanours, and restoring him to favour, he had taken care to assume in his presence, and in that of his relations, a high flown style, and to talk much of the duties and fidelity incumbent on generous grateful minds. But people who knew how much his heart was ulcerated against Mir-cassem these three years past, believed nothing of his protestations; and the event verified their suspicions; for this man, who had been ordered to assemble and to send provisions to the camp at Shimshir-nugur, instead of that, repaired to Dáod-nugur, where he busied himself in schemes of revenge. From Shimshir-nugur, Mir-cassem advanced to Sheh-poora, which is a district inhabited by Rohillas under several Zemindars; there he forded the river Sohon, and encamped on the other side, at a town called Nelitoo, which was full of traders. At that place he stopped a few days, in order to give time to his consort, his seraglio, and his treasures to join him from Rhotas, under the command of Mir-suléiman-qhan, his steward, a man on whom he reposed the utmost confidence, and who had the absolute management of his favourite women, as well as of his jewels and treasure.
It was this at encampment that Mirza-nedjef-qhan, who had escaped from 8d8a, by the way over the mountains, came out of that hilly country, and joined Mir-cassem. On hearing of his intention to take shelter in Shudja-ed-döulah’s country, and of a treaty being on foot with that Prince, that officer, who was fully acquainted with his temper and politics, strongly objected to his taking such a resolution. “Never,” said he, “never think of putting yourself in that Prince’s power. Retire within the fortress of Rhotas with your family and treasures; and leave the army and the management of the war to me. I shall pick up amongst your troops a good body of choice infantry, with a greater proportion of cavalry, in which last, I shall admit none but those that are well mounted, and who have robustness and good will enough to follow me day and night on horseback. With these, I shall be eternally hanging on the rear of the English, and shall cut them so much work, that they shall not find time to range themselves in battle array, or to take their meals; after having done so much, let happen what it will, and let fortune favour which party soever she may be pleased.” The Navvab objected to the air and water of Rhotas, and shewed a disinclination from shutting himself up in that mountain; for as to the rest, the advice was good; but it was not in his destiny to avail himself of it. Mirza-nedjef-qhan observing his reluctance, proposed turning towards the Bondulcund, and joining the Marhattas, a powerful people, who might be roused into action; and he offered to lead the way. But this scheme did not please Mir-cassem; he objected to the length of the way, to his own ignorance of the country, to the diversity between his temper and that of the Marhattas, and to their riveted inclination for sack and plunder. With such sentiments in his heart, he thought that his getting into Shudjah-ed-döulah’s country, and in the Emperor’s Court, would prove the end of all his toils. This inclination of his did not receive a little strength from the letters which came from Mirza-shems-eddin, to the same purport; they advised him to think of an alliance with Shudja-ed-döula; and Mir-suléiman, his steward, for purposes of his own, was urging the same measure. Mirza-nedjef-qhan, finding every one bent on going to Shudja-ed-döulah, declared, that in that case, he would be obliged to quit the Navvab’s service. Nevertheless, no party was determined Is strongly dissuaded by Nedjef-qhan, who proposes an excellent plan. yet; when letters came from Ahmed-qhan-coréishy, purporting that the English were arrived at Muhib-aaly-poor. This intelligence, although false and of Coréishy’s forging, equally surprised and consterned the Navvab; his perturbation of mind cannot be described. Another letter came again from the same artificious hand, with advice, that the English had sent, in all speed by water, a party of troops to Zemaniah, with a view to intercept his way into Shudja-ed-döula’s country. That perfidious man, not contented with sending these two forged intelligences, incited the Zemindars of his djaghir to plunder the laggers of Mir-cassem’s army, and to seize some of his baggage, which was on the road. The Zemindars did as they were bid; and the runaways coming to camp, spread the unwelcome news everywhere. Mir-cassem, confounded at such an universal desertion, quitted his camp, although he intended to tarry there a few days, and went forward. It was at this spot that letters came from my father, advising me to retire upon the family estate, as the times were unfavourable for serving Mir-cassem; nor was I much disinclined from taking such a resolution, as the Navvab had the worst opinion of my connexions with the English. But such was my attachment to Aaly-hibrahim-qhan, that I could not bear to part with him, no more than with Mirza-bakyr and Mirza-abdollah, until I had seen them in a place of Mir-cassem, surrounded by traitors, is promised an asylum by perfides. safety. I thought it unworthy and ungenerous to part with them, and therefore I continued with the fugitive army. Mir-cassem, the next day, marched to Saharseram, and from thence he advanced farther, and encamped at Sanot-mehnía, on the banks of the river Durgàoty, where the army was mustered and paid. The payment having lasted until it was dark, some people that had accounts to settle with the several officers, coming to high words with the clerks, a great outcry was raised, according to the custom of the latter; and this being soon echoed throughout the whole army, caused such an uproar, that Mir-cassem, astonished at those confused cries, came bare-footed to the door of his tent walls, and could not help exclaiming, That, to all appearance, those ungrateful soldiers had raised a sedition. But, as the Divine Providence reserved that army and its master for purposes of its own, the uproar and tumult subsided of themselves. The next morning, Mir-cassem finding Nedjef-qhan totally averse from going to Shudja-ed-döula’s country, dismissed him with a present of one lac and a-half of rupees, and of five elephants; after which he marched forward, and encamped on the banks of the little river of Kerem-nassa. There he received letters and a parcel from Mirza-shems-eddin, his agent at Shudja-ed-döula’s Court. The parcel contained a Coran, on some blank leaves of which glorious book was written that Prince’s safe conduct and promise, under his hand and seal. This sight seemed to please him. From the Kerem-nassa, he marched into Radja Balvand-sing’s country, which is of Shudja-ed-döula’s jurisdiction, and he encamped on the banks of the Ganga, where we shall leave him at present, to resume our narrative of the consequences of the disaster at 8d8a-nala.
Whilst Mir-cassem was passing by Mongher, a revolution took place at P8raniah. Roh-eddin-hosséin-qhan, son to Séif-qhan, and grandson to the famous Emir-qhan, Governor of Cab8l, was the contriver of it. This man, displeased with his situation at Court, where his salary being small, it obliged him to support his rank, by selling piece-meal what little he had saved of the wreck of his family’s fortune, now resolved to emerge from that state of humiliation. Under pretence of intending to follow Mir-cassem, and of his inability to do it by land, he had hired an old boat, which he kept in a brook, that fell into the Ganga; in this he passed his time, all the while attentive on what turn Mir-cassem’s affairs might take. One day he took his resolution at once; and without the knowledge of any one, friend or acquaintance, he crossed the Ganga, went over to P8raniah, and landed in the house of one Mehdy-beg, who had been his father’s director and titular saint. It was in the dark of the night. The man, sensible of Mir-cassem’s severity and exactitude, found that such an arrival exposed him to the utmost danger, as well as his guest, and he advised him to quit his house, and even P8raniah immediately; and that too at that very moment, rather than at half an hour hence. The adventurer, on hearing these words, got into his boat that instant, and dropping down the stream, he concealed her in a retired place five or six cosses distant, at a spot, where the little river that passes close to P8raniah, joins the old bed of the Cossey in the rainy season. There he lived five or six days under a borrowed name, having no more with him than five or six people. He had the precaution to station some spies and messengers, or harcaras, at 8d8a, who were to give him notice of what turn affairs would take, before the event should become public. In this manner, on the English rendering themselves masters of the intrenchments at that post, he was the first that got intelligence of it at P8raniah; and, as Shir-aaly-qhan, the Governor of the country, was absent, being one of the defenders of those intrenchments, the country was left empty of troops; for, the Governor’s brother, with a few soldiers, was rather concealed within the palace, than able to govern the province. Just at that time, a sum of two lacs of rupees had been sent on board of some boats, under the guard of a few messengers, which were intended for the treasury at Mongher; and these also had come and taken shelter close to our adventurer’s crazy vessel. The latter, who had been so early informed of the defeat at 8d8a, repaired again in the dead of the night to the saint’s house; and, as the adventurer’s father had commanded in that country for forty years together, and himself had lived there in much influence and splendour, as son-in-law to Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, most of the inhabitants of those parts, who had been either in the service of his family, or were beholden to it for their welfare, proved well-intentioned for his cause. He was therefore listened to with respect; so that sending for some of his ancient friends, he desired them to assemble in the night time those of their acquaintances whom they knew to be brave and well armed, and to bring them to him before day-break; as on the next morning he intended to recover possession of his father’s Government. There was no resisting the commands of one whom all revered as their Lord’s son and heir; so that in a little time they assembled to the number of about a hundred men. It was yet dark, when he sent for Goordial-sing, who had been clerk in one of his father’s offices, and was now the principal Minister of Government at P8raniah. The man came, and as he was the main hinge of all the affairs of the province, he was put under the charge of a few friends; after which, and before the dawn of the day, the adventurer mounted on the steed presented him by fortune, and, putting himself at the head of his armed friends, he marched silently to the palace, where throwing himself into it at once, he ordered the Deputy Governor, who, as well as Shir-aaly, owed his fortune to his father, to come to him directly. The man, confounded at what he was seeing, and intimidated by the presence of his old master, submitted quietly, made a profound bow, and presented his nuzur in token of submission and acknowledgment. Roh-eddin-hosséin-qhan, after receiving it, went and seated himself on the Mesned of Government, from whence he issued orders for the military music to play, and for the inhabitants to keep themselves quiet. These, on hearing of this revolution, thronged into the palace, where, both the gentry and people presented their nuzurs, acknowledged him for their master, and expressed their joy at his accession. Scarce was this ceremony over, when he sent trusty persons to bring back the boats laden with treasure; and these being not gone far off, were brought back in two days. After that, he appointed proper persons in every department, and dispatched a supplique to the English General, and one to Mir-djaajer-qhan, acknowledging the latter as his master, and congratulating both the one and the other upon their successes. Mir-djaafer-qhan, sensible that the war was far from being at an end, was pleased to see so much strength and revenue deducted from the enemy’s scale; and he sent to the new Governor a letter, in which he extolled his character for what he had done, and bestowed upon him the Government of P8raniah. The new Governor being strengthened by this accession of authority, established his government everywhere, treated both the people and gentry with the utmost benignity; and, firmly keeping his seat on the steed of fortune and good luck, he continued to ride in the fields of command and success for a number of years together; nor did he lose his seat, but when Mahmed-reza-qhan came to be promoted to the office of Deputy Governor of Bengal.
We have left Mir-cassem crossing the Kerem-nassa, and flying to Balvent-sing’s country, a dependence of Sudjah-ed-döula’s. Fearful of a pursuit from the English, he did not think himself in a place of safety, until he was at six or seven cosses beyond Banares, where he encamped; and so far likewise did I go in company with my friends. There I took my leave of them, and went to Banares, where, after enjoying the honour of kissing the feet of His Highness Sheh-mahmed-aaly-hezin (whom may God place amongst the highest of his elect!) I took my abode in the house of my excellent maternal uncle, Séyd-abdol-aaly-qhan, the valiant, whom I found oppressed by poverty and distress. It was there I was taking some repose from the toils of so laborious a campaign; but, I amused myself likewise with seeing often my friends at camp, and sometimes I paid a visit to Mir-cassem himself. The latter one day asked me, Why, whilst my father and brothers were in connection and in correspondence with the English, I took the unprofitable trouble of following a fugitive in his retreat? Had you not better, sir, join the English likewise? Mortified by such an address, I answered that, “Although in friendship with those foreigners, I had never betrayed him; nor had I done any thing against his service; nor had I kept any secret correspondence with his enemies; nor had I ever served them as a spy; nor was such conduct of a piece with my character. Else,” added I, “in imitation of so many others, who have deserted you, without knowing hardly where to go for bread, I could with a deal of ease turn to my right, and go to enjoy my father and self in our family estate. Generosity and friendship would not suffer it; nor could I resolve upon committing such a base action.” To all this apology, the Navvab answered, by only remaining silent, but this silence was of a bad omen; and, from that day, I ceased to go so often to see him; contenting myself with serving the holy man above, and with visiting often Aaly-hibrahim-qhan, with some other select friends; and there was the more propriety in that behaviour of mine, as Mir-cassem was now thinking of dismissing great part of those that had followed his fortune.
It must be observed that, amongst the multitudes of covered carriages of all sorts that attended Mir-cassem’s harem-sera, or sanctuary, in his retreat, there were numbers of covered coaches and chairs, which passed for containing some favourite ladies, but which, in reality, contained nothing but bags of white cloth, full of gold coin, and of gems, as well as of jewels of high value. All these, together with Mir-cassem’s Begum, and his other ladies, both on going to Rhotas and in coming from thence, were entrusted to the care of Mir-suléiman-qhan, his steward; a man on whom he used to repose the highest confidence, but who being well apprised of the variety of contents in the covered carriages, stole and embezzled a number of jewels, of such a value, as could not be reckoned but by lacs. The Navvab had some notice given him of the treason, and himself soon became sensible of it; but he was sensible likewise that the unprosperous state of his affairs did not admit of his examining his effects, or of calling his servants to an account, and especially such a man as Mir-suléiman-qhan. For the latter, after this performance of his, had put on a Fakir’s garb, with which he used to go to Court and it was curious to see him sometimes planted over against the Navvab, with a handkerchief in his hand, with which he wiped the tears, that flowed abundantly along his cheeks. He Infamous hypocrisy of Mir-suléiman. sighed and sobbed, and was saying to him, How shall my heart alas! and how shall my eyes, bear to see my good master in such a condition? And it was with such farces as these that the man went on, until the person who had come on Shudjah-ed-döula’s part to compliment and console Mir-cassem, being on his return, he was himself sent in his company, as an envoy to that Prince. In this embassy, the treacherous hypocrite took care to make his peace with Beni-bahadyr, who was Prime Minister to Shudjah-ed-döula, with Aaly-beg-qhan, his General, and with Mir-behloo, which latter had been once tutor to that Prince. With all these, as well as with all the favourites of that Prince’s, he found means to ingratiate himself by making them sharers in the treacherous booty which he had made, giving to some of them gems of an immense value. He also took care to procure himself the protection of Salar-djung, a principal favourite, whom Mirza-shems-eddin, first envoy of Mir-cassem’s, had made use of as a mediator with Shudjah-ed-döula. Mir-suléiman, after having secured all these great men, returned to Mir-cassem’s camp with letters of consolation from every one of them, all fraught with promises without bounds, and compliments without end. But Mirza-shems-eddin was already arrived with letters, both from the Vezir, and from the Emperor. They contained such expressions of kindness as eased Mir-cassem’s mind, and determined him to turn his views to that side, and to repair to their Courts. As to Mirza-nedjef-qhan, that officer, after taking leave of Mir-cassem, tumed to the left, and went into the Bundelcund; where the Radja, or Prince of the country, who thought that the arrival of such a man could not but prove advantageous to his own affairs, took him into his service, and shewed him the utmost honour and attention. After his departure, the fugitive Prince, who on Mir-suléiman’s return had entirely made up his mind, having picked up amongst his troops such as he thought of the best service, dismissed and paid the rest, and then directed his route towards the Emperor’s and the Vezir’s camp.
As to myself, this retreat put me under the necessity of providing for my own circumstances. Finding that I was destitute of an equipage suitable to such a voyage, as well as fully sensible that Mir-cassem would never repose any confidence in me, I thought it best to return to Banares, and to remain there. For Mir-djaafer-qhan, naturally displeased with Mir-cassem’s followers, being now encamped on the banks of the Kerem-nassa, whilst people entertained doubts about what turn the Vezir’s assistance might give to the affairs of the vanquished, it would have been imprudent in me to return to Azim-abad; and on the other hand, I reckoned it a happiness, unexpectedly provided for me by Heaven, to pass my days at the feet of the venerable, holy personage mentioned above. Thanks without measure are due to that cream of living men, for that in such a time of despondence and anxiety, he vouchsafed to bestow some of the precious moments of his time in conversing with so humble an individual, as this the most inconsiderable of men. My pen and tongue would fail in enumerating the thousandth part of the kindnesses he had for me; nor do I know how I could describe the care and benignity with which he used to administer consolation to my grief. My pen, incapable to come up to so difficult a task, as that of mentioning them worthily, acknowledges with a hundred thousand excuses, its inability and impotence on that affecting subject.
But to return to our narrative. The complexion of the times being now so vicious, that nothing is to be seen amongst the generality of mankind but double dealing, and a traitorous diversity between the tongue and the heart; and such morals having become fashionable amongst men, and especially amongst great folks, there is no wonder if neither Shudjah-ed-döulah, nor the Emperor, were wanting to themselves in making artificious invitations to Mir-cassem, and in swearing to promises and treaties which they never intended to put in execution. For they were at the same time writing letters of congratulation to Mir-djaafer-qhan, and entering into treaties and negotiations with both that Prince and his allies. It was on this occasion that Ráo-shitab-ráy, of whom mention has been more than once made in these sheets, appeared again upon the stage of the world. This able man, on quitting Azim-abad, had repaired to A8d, where, soon getting into Shudjah-ed-döulah’s service, and into the good graces of Beni-bahadyr, his Minister and Deputy, he was now reckoned one of the latter’s principal favourites; and, as this Minister, on the other hand, had taken umbrage at Mirza-shems-eddin’s managing the whole of Mir-cassem’s negotiation with Shudjah-ed-döulah, solely through Salar-djung’s mediation, without his (Beni-bahadyr’s) privacy or participation; so he resolved on his side to overturn all that structure, to which they had given him no share, and to raise a treaty and a negotiation on his own bottom with Mir-djaafer-qhan, and with the English, by inspiring his master with a mistrust of the former negotiation, or at least, by instilling in his mind some doubts tending that way. With this view he pitched upon Shitab-ráy, who was sent with a message, and with letters full of civility, together with a Qhylaat or dress of honour; and thus both the Navvab and his Ministers were now in warm connections and conferences with the two parties. Mir-djaafer availed himself of Ráo-shitab-ráy’s arrival, to send the sum of a thousand rupees to Abdol-aaly-qhan, my maternal uncle, at Banares; but this remembrance of his was due solely to my uncle’s being under a disgrace with Mir-cassem, and to his having been expelled Azim-abad, when Ram-naráin, whose friend and servant he had been, was put under confinement. My uncle having crossed over to the English camp, was received by Mir-djaafer-qhan with a deal of kindness; and this sudden flow of good fortune happened at the very time when my illustrious father, finding how matters had turned out, had thought it expedient to pay a visit to the new Navvab of Bengal, and was actually in camp with his two sons. He was, however, received indifferently; the new Viceroy, doubtless, having disliked his person on no better reason than that of his having been formerly treated with so much consideration and respect by Mir-cassem.
Whilst the negotiation was going on with Mir-cassem, the Emperor and the Vezir were going to Ilah-abad, in order to bring under controul the country of Bundel-cund; and as they had wished that the interview should take place at that city, Mir-cassem marched thither; and the armies approached so near to each other, as to be divided only by a plain of three cosses. The Vezir, with great pomp and magnificence, set out at the head of ten or twelve thousand horse to visit Mir-cassem; and the latter, on being informed of it, ordered his disciplined Sipahis to form a lane of about a quarter of a mile in length, one end of which commenced at the door of his tent walls; and these Mir-cassem now in Shudja-ed-döulah’s dominions, visits that Prince. as well as the tents being hung up with the utmost care and neatness, were filled up with Commanders and Officers well dressed. On the Vezir’s approaching, Mir-cassem went out as far as the inner gate of his tent wall, where these two illustrious personages having saluted each other, according to the rules of Hindostany civility, by an embrace, went together to take their seats on the same Mesned. The Vezir, after having made the greatest protestations to his guest, spoke to him with every kindness imaginable; and he invited him to go in his company upon a visit to the Emperor. The offer was accepted; but, on his going to get up, one and twenty elegant tables, or Qhóans,\(272\) were brought in, covered with a variety of the richest and most curious stuffs. These were followed by large plates and Qhóans containing mounted jewels, with a variety of loose gems, and pearls, unstrung. After these, were presented several elephants of the greatest size. This ceremony being over, the Vezir got upon his own elephant; and, on his desiring his guest to be mounted with him, they sate on the same Amharry,\(273\) and went together to the Imperialtents, where Mir-cassem being introduced, paid his respects to the Emperor; after which, the Vezir went on to his own camp, whilst Mir-cassem returned to his quarters. The next day the latter returned the visit. The Vezir ordered his Mogul Cavalry to put on their scarlet coats, and, with their muskets in their hands, to form a lane from the main street of the camp, up to his own tent. Mir-cassem having advanced with a pomp mixed with military array, landed at the outer gate of the Vezir’s tent walls. On his getting within, the Vezir advanced to the border of his carpeting, and taking Mir-cassem by the hand, he carried him to his Mesned, upon which they took their seats together, whilst the tent and the outer yards were filled with Commanders richly attired, and Officers well dressed. The Vezir did every thing in his power to administer consolation to his guest. He promised his help and assistance in the strongest terms, and made him hope that one day his three dominions would be recovered from the hands of the strangers. A few days after this visit, Mir-cassem made choice of Aaly-hibrahim-qhan, to carry to Shudjah-ed-döulah’s consort, a set of lady-jewels,\(274\) of a value that could be reckoned only by lacs. To these were added a Rutt, or four-wheeled carriage, of the utmost magnificence; it was drawn by two young elephants, covered with trappings of the richest embroidery. By the same nobleman he sent a message to Ab8l-mans8r-qhan’s consort, mother to Shudjah-ed-döulah, which Princess he addressed by the appellation of mother, requesting her protection, and expressing a hope in her good will; nor did the message fail to be accompanied by some jewels of high value. These ceremonies being over, politics were brought upon the carpet.
As Shudjah-ed-döulah had come so far only with a view to bring under controul some districts of Bundel-cund, and to receive the revenues and balances due on some other territories of Ilah-abad, which were detained; the matter seemed likely to be spun to some length, as the Radja of Bundel-cund did not shew any sign of submission. This furnished Mir-cassem with an opportunity of shewing himself to advantage. As he feared nothing so much as a delay, the consequences of which might afford the English time enough to fix themselves firmly in their new conquests, he sent a pressing message to the Vezir on that subject. He was answered, that such an expedition could not be commenced, before the countries about Ilah-abad were brought into order. Mir-cassem replied, that if this was all that detained the Vezir, it was needless that he (Mir-cassem) should remain with so much artillery, and so many good troops, uselessly encamped. Please, said he, to refer that small affair to me, your friend, and I will undertake in a little time to bring it Mir-cassem’s successful expedition in the Bundel-cund. to a conclusion with a deal of ease. The proposal being accepted, Mir-cassem crossed the Djumna, and getting into the heart of the country, he soon marched beyond Beni-bahadyr, the Vezir’s General, who had been loitering his time in that fruitless expedition. As he had a good train of artillery, mounted and served after the European manner; and he commanded a body of picked men, disciplined after the English fashion, and all inured to the service; he soon reduced some forts that had stopped the Vezir’s General; and he so intimidated the Princes of the country by a warfare and a sight so unusual in the armies of Hindostan, that the principal fortress of the country opened its gates and surrendered; and the Radjas, availing themselves of the mediation of Mirza-nedjef-qhan, who was in their service, and had been well used by Mir-cassem, soon came to an agreement, by which they surrendered the districts in question, and submitted to pay the balances demanded; moreover, they gave security for the payment of those sums. Mir-cassem, after this successful expedition, that gladdened his heart, and did him a deal of honour, soon rejoined the Vezir’s army, and proposed again to march towards the eastern countries. This scheme was agreed to, and the Vezir, with the Emperor and Mir-cassem, marched down the river, and encamped at the city of Banares. It was in the middle of the A. D. 1764. month of Ramazan, of the year 1177 of the Hegira, at which period I had been already living these five months in the city, when this arrival put it in my power to enjoy my friends and acquaintances once more; for Mir-cassem was defeated about the end of the second Rebi, or in the beginning of the first Djemadi; and it was the middle of Ramazan when he appeared again at Banares with the Emperor and the Vezir, in full hopes of recovering the sovereignty of his lost dominions. The agreement he concluded was on these terms: “That on the Vezir’s crossing the Ganga, and entering the enemy’s country, Mir-cassem from that day, and for so long as the expedition might last, would pay him for the expenses of his army a subsidy of eleven lacs of rupees per month.”
Fortune would have it so, that before this army had moved, it should be joined by an unexpected reinforcement. Mir-djaafer-qhan, on stopping at the Kerem-nassa, and giving over his pursuit, had promised the troops a sum of money, by way of gratuity, as a reward for so laborious a campaign; but as the money was not paid, Moshur Medec, a Frenchman, who served in the English army, had come to some altercations with the English Commander on that failure; and the matter went so far, that the Frenchman at the head of above a hundred soldiers of his nation, quitted the camp with arms and baggage, and I believe also, with a field-piece, and marched into Radja Balvand-sing’s country. A party of English pursued him for some time; but on recollecting the impropriety of lighting up the flames of dissension for so small a subject, and affording a matter of discontent to the Vezir, they returned back; and the French took service with Shudjah-ed-döulah.
Whilst these three mighty personages, to wit, the Vezir, the Emperor, and Mir-cassem, were encamped at Banaress, they used to pay their respects together to the venerable Sheh-mahmed-aaly-hezin (whom God may place amongst the highest of his elect!) and they were admitted to the honour of waiting upon His Holiness.\(275\) And it was several times observed in what fell from the lips of His Venerable Majesty, that he objected to their marching against the English, as they were so very inferior to those strangers in the arts of war, in discipline, in knowledge, and especially in union and concert amongst themselves. He also strongly dissuaded me from following the combined army. These people, said he, are not likely to be successful against those strangers; and, I believe, that after having only measured the road for some stages forwards, they will in a short time measure it backwards again. But this discourse did not make upon me all the impression it deserved; and the desire of rejoining my family, and of revisiting those places and friends to which I had been accustomed from my youth, did not suffer me to avail myself of so salutary a warning, and to enjoy the honour of waiting much longer on His Holiness. The Vezir, a few days after that visit, threw a bridge of boats over the Ganga; and that army, as numerous as the billows of the sea, crossed over, and a little after, was put in motion. It was through the Radja Balvand-sing’s country. This Prince, who was exceedingly shrewd, and withal so wealthy, that his riches were reckoned by corors, bore a great character amongst the Gentoos for prowess; but was so very wary and shy, that no art, and no persuasion, had ever been able to bring him to pay a visit to Ab8l-mans8r-qhan, or to his son, Shudjah-ed-döulah. At this time, however, he was persuaded by Beni-bahadyr, and all the Commanders of that Minister’s troops, who pledged themselves for his safety; and he listened to the insinuations of N8r-el-hassen-qhan, the Belgramite, a man of consequence, who although sent to enforce by his presence the balances due by that Zemindar, had gained much credit on his mind. Induced by the persuasions of so many persons of character, who pledged themselves for his safety, he now for the first time made his appearance in the camp of a Viceroy; but it was in the middle of two or three thousand picked horse, and several thousand men of infantry, all attached to his person; and it was with such a cortége he paid his respects to the Vezir. This addition, great as it was, was hardly perceived in an army, which proved so very numerous, that as far as the eye could extend, it covered the country and plains, like an inundation, and moved like the billows of a sea. But there was so little order and discipline amongst these troops, and so little were the men accustomed to Shudja-ed-döulah attacks the English with an army utterly ungovernable. command, that in the very middle of the camp, they fought against each other, killed and murdered each other, plundered each other, and went out a-plundering and a-marauding without the least scruple, or the least controul. No one would inquire into those matters; and those ungovernable men scrupled not to plunder to the right and left with impunity, and even to stripe and kill people of their own army, if they chanced to lag behind their main, or to be found in some lonely spot. They behaved exactly like a troop of highway-men. It was not an army, but a whole city in motion; and you could have found in it whatever could be had in former times in Shah-djehan-abad itself, whilst that city was the capital and the eye of all Hindostan. But if that moving city swarmed with so many senseless men, it had likewise some men of sense; and these never ceased to represent directly, as well as indirectly, “That to wage war with the English, according to the method customary in India, would not answer any good purpose. That whenever those strangers should be left at liberty to range themselves in battle array, according to their own rules, with their field-pieces properly stationed, and their Talingas upon the wings, so few as a thousand of them would always prove an overmatch for an army of fifty thousand Hindostanies. That since then the Vezir’s mode of warfare was by skirmishes, and his soldiers were inured to that custom, it would be more advantageous to leave the heavy baggage, with the greater part of the troops, in the camp where they were; and with a choice body of picked men, horse and foot, to advance on the enemy, amongst whom divisions had already crept so far, that they thought only of a retreat. That now was the time to fall at once unexpectedly upon them, before they had prepared for their march. If we succeed in breaking their ranks,” said they, “and in disturbing their battle array, victory is ours, and success has crowned our design. If we are repulsed, we shall have killed some of them at least; and by hanging endlessly on their rear, destroying their carriages, rendering their cannon useless, cutting off their laggers, burning their baggage, ravaging their country, and rendering their subsistence difficult, we shall keep them in perpetual alarms every day without fail; but so however as to encamp every night out of the reach of a surprise; and this mode of war must be kept on, without quitting them for a moment, until they are gone within the walls of Azim-abad. If, before they reach that place, we succeed in destroying them by retail, we have carried our point; else, if we have not, we shall retire towards Saharseram, and pass the rainy season there; and meanwhile, officers of understanding and abilities, with several bodies of troops, may be sent over to the other side of the Ganga, into the district of Sarun, whose business shall be to take possession of a country undefended, but where, without offering the least injury to the meanest husbandman, the revenue and land-tax must be settled upon so low a footing, as that the contribution may be raised with the greatest ease, and may still, by its lenity, contribute to gain the hearts of the Zemindars, and of the inhabitants. By such a method, contributions might be established in many districts of Bahar and Bengal, not too far from the army; as whilst those troops would be employed on the other side of the Ganga, others might be as usefully employed on this side, up to the environs of Azim-abad. That meanwhile, parties ought to be kept running up and down the river, and scouring every part of it, whose business would be to seize or sink every boat going to Azim-abad, and even to put every boatman to the sword; a practice that would soon put a stop to all importation of grain for the enemy’s account. The English indeed will resist; but being straitened for victuals and for every thing else, they will of themselves evacuate Azim-abad and return to Bengal. After which retreat, it will be time enough to examine again what line of conduct we are to pursue.”
This advice upon the mode of prosecuting the war was a wise one, and the best undoubtedly that could be given; but it made no impression on the mind of the Vezir, a man predestinated to a reverse of fortune. He was so full of himself, and so proud to have fought by the side of the Abdali-king, whom he had taken for his model, that whenever any one made bold to propose any advice upon the mode of carrying on the war, he used to cut him short with a do not trouble yourself about that; you shall fight as I shall bid you. The English, meanwhile, being much diminished in number, and much fatigued by so severe a campaign in the very height of the rainy season, had commenced flagging. Intimidated by Shudja-ed-döulah’s character for prowess, and impressed with an opinion of the bravery and number of his troops, they did not think themselves a match for them in the field. With this notion they repassed the Sohon, and resolved to retire within the walls of Azim-abad. The camp at Bacsar was therefore raised, and they retreated with precipitation. Shudjah-ed-döulah, with the Emperor and Mir-cassem in his company, marched on proudly and triumphantly; and, having advanced by continual marches, he entered the province of Azim-abad, where his troops burning and plundering to the distance of five or six cosses in every direction, did not leave a trace of population throughout all that tract of ground. The poor inhabitants, whose hearts had been expanded on hearing of the arrival of an Emperor and a Vezir, no sooner found themselves exposed to every kind of insult and oppression, than they returned their heartiest thanks to the English, and prayed to God for their prosperity and return; for this nation, so far from plundering and sacking, had never offered the least injury to any one individual, throughout all their campaigns in Bengal.
As soon as I saw the Vezir’s army arrived at Mecráin, a considerable town on the banks of the Sohon, I could not help thinking of my family. I had panted this longwhile for a sight of my mother; and, forgetting at once the sanguinary and undisciplined disposition of these troops, I got into a chó8pala,\(276\) a carriage very well known in India, and set out thoughtlessly for Hosséin-abad, which was the capital of the district constituting the hereditary djaghir, or estate of our family. I had with me only two or three servants, and a bullock loaded with some small baggage. We passed the Sohon, and, taking by the way a friend of mine, called Mahm8d-qhan, with two or three men more, I went forward. Being arrived at Sheh-p8ra, a little town, deserted by its inhabitants on account of the ravages committed by the Vezir’s troops, I was surprised to hear the neighing of horses, and then to see a number of armed men; but could not comprehend from whence came those horses, and how any of the inhabitants had dared to stand their ground. With a little reflection I found they must be some freebooters from the army; and, thinking it improper to tarry there, I was pushing onward. A moment after, I perceived a cloud of dust, from whence rose now and then a number of pikes. I was confounded at the sight. A little after I discovered that the dust was raised by several thousands head of cattle, amidst which could be distinctly seen two or three hundred Moghul and Afghan troopers, of the Vezir’s army. Finding myself alone in that lonely plain, with only my friend in his chó8pala, and a few servants, I concluded myself in imminent danger; and abandoning my bullock with what he had on his back, I resolved to strike to my right, and to take my route beneath the banks of the Sohon, and amongst its sands, where I hoped to march without being discovered. As they were yet far off, and I thought they had not seen me, I explained my mind to my chó8pala-carriers, or chairmen, who were all of long standing in my service. Their head-man did not approve of the resolution I took; and he observed, “That they must have discovered us, just as we had seen them; and that, should we quit the highroad at once, they would attribute this retreat to our fears, and would plunder us with the more boldness. We have no other part left then,” said the man, “than that of advancing in our way through the very middle of them.” This advice appearing a good one, I followed it, and remembered the verses:
| “Sometimes it happens that an ignorant boy |
| Will lodge an arrow within the very mark.” |
As we were advancing on both sides, we soon met, and one of the troopers, whom I saw to be a Moghul, lighting up his match, came down upon me, and asked who I was, and whither I was going? I answered, What is that to you? I am going on the Vesir’s part, to bring to him Séyd-hedáiet-aaly-khan-bahadyr, the Assed-djung, a very great man, who lives on his estate at the foot of the mountain of Rohotas. And who is that other man on the chó8palah, replied the Moghul? He is my friend, said I, and we go on the same errand. My bullock comes behnid. Pray tell my men to walk faster. After these few words, I marched on; and the man, finding how unconcernedly I spoke, suspected no artifice and no deception; nor did he offer us any injury. Half a mile farther, I met another such troop; and these having put only a single question to us, which was answered by my servant, continued their route. A little farther we met a third party, close to a village; and these offered no question at all, but passed on without minding us. We were marching on, but surrounded on every direction by villages on fire, and the smoke rose up to heaven. After marching five miles more, we arrived at the village of Mehvan, which was deserted; and there was not a soul to be seen there, but two watchmen, of whom I asked, whether those freebooters had been plundering still farther? No, said the man, they have only plundered and sacked as far as this village; and they have carried away every head of cattle that they could discover. On this answer, I recommended to the men to give notice of this to the other villages, as they would the next day carry their ravages still farther; and, after having reposed for a whole hour there, we marched forward, and at last arrived at Hosséin-abad; from whence, after a short interview with my mother and brother, and my other relations, for two days together, I returned to the army. As this had advanced from Muhib-aaly-poor, my journey, on account of the freebooters that infested the way, was become exceedingly dangerous. Nevertheless I arrived safe; but it was to see a strange spectacle. The English were retreating, after having lightened themselves of some heavy baggage, and they had marched as far as Arvel where, not daring to stand their ground against an attack from the Vezir’s troops, they had quitted the field, and were marching to Azim-abad, after having been at much trouble in keeping at a The English in distress, retreat under the cannon of Azim-abad. distance the numerous freebooters of the enemy’s army. Being arrived at Azim-abad, they placed some of their artillery upon the towers, and taking the rest with them, they went out, and took post towards the buttresses, at the head of the dyke which controuls the water of that lake, by which the greatest part of the city is surrounded in the rainy season, on the southern side. There they threw up an intrenchment, enlarged the dyke, fortified in with towers or buttresses, and placed Mir-djaafer-qhan, with his Indians, behind their own army, adding to them some companies of their own Talingas, as if they had intended them, as well as Mir-djaafer-qhan’s troops, for a body of reserve.
Whilst the English were preparing themselves, the Vezir, constrained by the necessity of affording plenty of water to so numerous an army, was obliged, instead of marching to Azim-abad by the straight road, to descend along the banks of the Sohon, as far as the town of M8nir-mil, where I had the good luck to join the army. From thence he advanced in a straight line to P8lvary, which is only four cosses from Azim-abad; and although there was plenty of wells by the way, yet so numerous was the army, that he was obliged to order as many more to be dug everywhere. After staying one day there, the Vezir advanced to attack the English; his army, which was as numerous as the ants and as the locusts, proceeded by the highroad, as far as the reservoir of Meti-p8r, and the village of Lohan, where there is a monument over the tomb of Mir-cassem’s father. Radja Beni-bahadyr, with Radja Balvant-sing, took post at the left of the Vezir’s. He had in his line three thousand Rohillas, commanded by their countryman, Ynáiet-qhan, son to Hafyz-rahmet the Rohilla, Lord of Berheily and Pilibéit; and at the elbow of this, was the Ghossáin, or Fakir, with five thousand Gentoos, as naked as himself. Behind these, but at some distance, was placed Somro,\(277\) with five regiments of disciplined Talingas of Mir-cassem’s, supported by some pieces of cannon, mounted and served in the English manner. Behind these, and overagainst the intrenchment defended by Mir-djaafer-qhan, Mir-cassem himself had taken post to the right of Beni-bahadyr’s, but in such a manner as to be out of the reach of the cannon-balls. He had about six or seven thousand horse. As to myself, the poor man, as I was now in no man’s service, and had followed Mir-cassem’s army only for the pleasure of accompanying Engagement under the walls of Patna. Aaly-hibrahim-qhan, and Mirza-bakyr, and Mirza-abdollah, my friends, I amused myself with galloping up and down, and examining the several stations taken by each body of troops. The Vezir, availing himself of the cover afforded him by several detached buildings in the suburbs, advanced to the very seat of Zahir-hosséin-qhan; from whence, coming in the open plain, he went on advancing slowly and boldly, his troops keeping up a continual fire of musquetry and rockets. The English, on their side, were pouring an incessant storm of cannon-balls; and these balls reaching Somro’s ranks, which were more advanced by half a cosse than those of Mir-cassem’s, killed and wounded many of his Talingas; but, as some of these balls by passing over his ranks, fell only in the empty space which remained between Somro, and his master, Mir-cassem, a messenger mounted on a dromedary brought to the latter this message from the Vezir: “What for are you lagging behind there, whilst I am warmly engaged with your enemies? Advance, as I do, and engage the enemy on your side, as I do on mine. It you cannot advance, send forward, at least, Somro with his Talingas and his field-pieces. Send them to me, that I may oppose their fire to the English; and, so soon as I see them enagaged, I will wheel round with my cavalry, and take them in flank.” This direct message was answered by Mir-cassem in an indirect, vague manner; and he did not move from his post, nor did he send any orders to Somro. By this time it was past twelve, and then the Ghossáin with his naked soldiers advanced to the charge; but being received by the English with several discharges of grape, they soon fell into the utmost disorder, after losing numbers in slain and wounded. I was, as I have said, on horseback between Mir-cassem’s troops and those of Beni-bahadyr’s; and I no sooner saw the naked Sanyassees advance to the attack, than I forewarned my friends, that if after some discharges of grape, the firing ceased, they might rest assured that the English Shudjah-ed-döulah is vigorously repulsed by the English. had the worst of it, or possibly were totally defeated; but that if after the discharge of grape and a little pause, they heard a firing again, and with cannon-ball, then they might reckon that the Sanyassees had been certainly beaten. The event proved to be precisely as I had foreseen; and the Sanyassees having been very roughly handled by the English, were retreating with precipitation. On seeing this, Shudjah-ed-döulah’s troops rallied; and Ynáiet-qhan in a moment after advanced with his Rohillas and some other troops, to the charge. But he was received by the English, as they had received the Sanyassees. I waited to hear the English cannon, as I had done before, when, instead of that, I observed that the tower towards Mehdy-gundj had commenced firing incessantly. It was now about three in the afternoon; and the Vezir having rallied his troops again, brought them to a third charge, which being well supported by repeated efforts, at last made an impression on the English. Some disorder and much fluctuation was perceived amongst them; insomuch, that some of their drummers and fifers, men who play to them in an engagement, were taken prisoners by the enemy. This fluctuation, however, was only for a moment; for soon they recovered their ranks, and continued firm and immovable, firing with so much briskness, that the Vezir’s troops, unaccustomed to so hot a fire, retreated to their first post. All this while, Beni-bahadyr and Balvant-sing did not move at all throughout the whole engagement; for the only one from amongst their troops that did any service, was Sheh-din-mahmed, an adopted son of Sheh-mudjahed, an old Commander, who had long served under Ser-b8lend-qhan. This officer, putting himself at the head of his corps, advanced briskly to the charge, but was killed on the spot. At this very time, I observed that a westerly wind rising on the backs of the English, commenced blowing full in the face of the Vezir’s troops, against whom they were advancing, with their artillery in front. On this appearance, the Vezir sent a dromedary messenger with reproaches to Mir-cassem, for his neglect and backwardness during the whole engagement. The messenger added, that as the day was quite spent, he ought to return to camp, where the Vezir would take measures for renewing the engagement the next day. On this message, Mir-cassem sent word to Somro, who was advanced a little before him, to fall back with his Talingas and cannon; and in the evening he followed himself, and retired towards his quarters. It was now the dusk of the evening, and Shudjah-ed-döulah was already retired, and Mir-cassem was also retreating, when a Captain with two or three companies, possibly out of particular enmity to his person, detached himself from the English line, and advancing on Mir-cassem’s retiring troops, gave them a volley. The laggers no sooner received this fire, than they fled with precipitation, and with all their might; and it was then only that I got some intelligence of Mir-cassem’s backwardness, which I could not know sooner, as I had been all this while at a distance from him. It became high time for me to retire likewise; but it was too dark; and there was too much noise, dust, and confusion, for me to know how I could find my way to my quarters; so that I lost my way entirely at last. But luckily I recovered it again, and found a path to my own tents on making an observation upon the rising of the evening star. At day-break there was a report of the Vezir’s being mounted again, but it proved groundless. Two days after, another report ran throughout the troops, and it was, that he had got a bubo; but some others better informed, asserted that the Vezir having been wounded in the groin, had got his wound medicamented under the name of a bubo, for fear of discouraging his troops. After his recovering a little, he moved from his post, and going to the southward of the city, he encamped on the river of P8n-p8n, where every day some report spread in camp: one day, that he would attack the enemy by Mir-djaafer-qhan’s quarters; another, that he would fall on him by the western side of the city. All this while, he used to get on horseback every morning, with a small number of people about his person, with which he used to take a turn round the city-walls, and round the intrenchment. One day it happened that some English officers with Mir-mehdy-qhan in their company, a Commander who had now quitted Mir-cassem’s service for theirs, were taking a view of the environs of the city, and of the Vezir’s encampment; nor had they more than a company of Talingas with them. The Vezir was also upon his survey that very morning, accompanied as usual; and the two parties meeting together, some abusive language was exchanged, and a skirmish took place with sabres, lances, and arrows, on one side, and with musquets and bayonets on the other. In this conflict, Mir-mehdy-qhan having discovered the Vezir, whose person was known to him, pointed him out to the English Commander, who to all appearance was Major Carnac himself; and the latter having ordered his people to keep the Vezir occupied and in play, sent into the city for some more troops. This new detachment was advancing to surround the Vezir’s people, when a trooper ran to camp, and gave notice that he was actually surrounded by the English, and going to fall in their hands. This indeed would have been the case, had not the Vezir become sensible of his danger, and thought proper to run for it; he turned about, and fled; and then recovering himself, he retreated at a slow pace, and regained his camp. Meanwhile the trooper had spread so strange an alarm throughout the whole army, that Mir-cassem taking with him such troops as he found at hand, whether of his own or others, made haste to rescue the Vezir; but he met him on the road. They returned together; and in this manner, a tumult that had risen to a great height, subsided at once. Two or three such skirmishes more happened in the sequel. But now the rains were setting in; and the Vezir finding no ground dry enough for his encampment round the city, resolved to retire as far as Bacsar. This little town is on the very extremity of the province of Bahar, but upon a high ground on the banks of the Ganga, over against Ghazi-p8r. which is in the dependance of Radja Balvent, his own vassal, He intended to quarter and barrack his army there during the rainy season, in which time he would provide for the operations of the next campaign. This design was put in execution immediately; he beat the General, raised the siege, and marched back by the way of Monir.
My father all this while had been in the army, where he had paid his respects to the Emperor and to the Vezir; and as I had myself taken service with the former, on my proving so dissatisfied with Mir-cassem, we both remained at camp for a full fortnight more; the army having tarried so long on the banks of the Sohon, after having forded that river at Calver, the capital of the Bodj-poor country. From thence my father resolved to return to his estate; and as I was myself so disgusted with the endless disorders which reigned in the Vezir’s army, that I thought it improper to remain any longer in it. I resolved to attach myself to the English, for whom I had this longwhile conceived an affection. I had even some connections with them; especially with Doctor Fullarton, who had so luckily escaped from the sanguinary hands of Mir-cassem’s. Some correspondence had also subsisted between him and me; and it was by that means he had informed me that the Emperor inclined to the English party in his heart. He had likewise advised me early to provide for myself and for that Prince’s reaching the English camp. This intelligence I imparted to my father, and I exhorted him “to take the lead in an affair that would establish our family, and intitle him to the gratitude of that nation. I added, that it was evident that so long as the Vezir continued to command such unruly troops, and to be at variance with his confederates, as well as to turn a deaf ear to every sober advice, he would not be likely to prevail against the English; that matters standing in such a predicament, it would be advantageous to join a nation that seemed to entertain a veneration for the Imperial person, and an inclination for its interests, both which they expressed everywhere in their correspondence with me, in such a manner, as rendered it proper and expedient for that Prince to write to the ruler of that nation, such a letter as they seemed to wish for.” My father having listened to all this, imparted the whole to Munnir-ed-döulah, with whom he waited on the Emperor. This Prince, who was sick of his dependence on Shudjah-ed-döulah, as well as tired with his obstinacy and his airs of superiority, was desirous likewise to shake off the yoke that had insensibly slipt upon his neck; and he approved the advice. After which, he wrote to the English Commander a letter in the style his Ministers desired; but, when it was brought signed to him, he added these words with his own hand: Know, that whenever such a letter, and in such a hand, shall come to you, the English Commander, by the ministry of the present bearer, (meaning me, the poor man) you are to giva an implicit belief to the same; but if any other handwriting should come to hand by any other person, then you are to think it spurious, or, at least, written with intent to keep some terms with the Vezir, but without the Emperor’s real consent. The intent of the addition was to put the English upon their guard against another negotiation set on foot by Ráo-shitab-ráy’s channel. The Emperor, who knew the latter to be in Shudjah-ed-döulah’s service, and an intimate friend of Beni-bahadyr’s, recommended to me to manage in such a manner, as neither the Vezir nor his agent should know any thing of the conténts of his letter.
After receiving these credentials, I set out with my father, who took the road to his estate, whilst I took that to Azim-abad. At that time I reckoned upon my enjoying some share in Major Carnac’s good opinion, and was much connected with Doctor Fullarton, who loved me, had rendered me many services, and really was an excellent man. But it was my ill luck that the Doctor, who had hitherto been my mediator, and my channel of conveyance with that Commander, was now upon the worst terms with him; and unfortunately I knew nothing of the matter as yet. I therefore sent him intelligence of my coming; and he conveyed it to the General, who sent some of his messengers or harcarahs with a written order to some Captains of his, stationed with a party upon the road, to procure me a free passage. Being arrived in town, I went to Doctor Fullarton’s, from whom I learned that he was upon ill terms with the General. But, as I had already informed him of the errand upon which I had come, I intreated him to be upon his guard with Sadoram, agent of Shitab-ráy’s, and to take care that he should not come to the knowledge of the business which had become my task; for that such a discovery would prove of great disservice both to the Emperor, and to Munnir-ed-döulah, and could do no good to either my father or me. The Doctor answered, that he would serve me with all his might, but that he doubted much whether my business would succeed at this time. Be it as it may, on the second day I was sent for by Major Carnac, upon whon I waited in company with the Doctor. I found the Major sitting with Mir-djaafer-qhan; and I shewed him the Emperor’s letter. The Major kissed it, put it upon his head, and having stepped aside with Mir-djaafer-qhan to hear the contents, he returned; and his answer was, “That at present the Emperor did not dispose of his own actions. He was under another’s controul, and intirely dependent on the Vezir’s pleasure and will; and that this being the case, the English could not obey His Majesty’s commands.” This is what he said; but, it becomes highly, probable, that after having said so much, he sent for Sadoram and shewed him the Emperor’s letter, of which that agent took a copy, which he sent to Radja Shitab-ráy. The Major, after these words, dismissed me, and then sent me a supplique for the Emperor; but as I had concluded that all my trouble had answered no purpose, I sent the supplique by one of the Emperor’s messengers, and retired to our estate at Hosséin-abad. There I lived with my father, with whom I found both Mirza-bakyr and Mirza-abdollah, two friends, who had come over to pass the rainy season with him.
It was during my stay at Hosséin-abad, that I heard of Mir-cassem’s having been arrested by Shudjah-ed-döulah’s order, and confined; so that I shall faithfully relate this event in the same manner as I had heard it related afterwards by Aaly-hibrahim-qhan, who cut a great figure in that whole transaction. It must be observed, that Mir-cassem, who had promised to pay eleven lacs of rupees per month to the Vezir, and had been hard pressed for payment at the siege of Azim-abad, of course wanted to get out of the grasp of a man who gave him no rest and no respite on that subject; and he once sent the following message to him, after having reflected for a while on some expedient to extricate himself: “I conceive that you ought to send me towards Bengal and M8rsh8d-abad, to the end, that by establishing contributions, I may distress the collectors set up by the English, and prevent their fixing their government in these countries; an operation, which may be thoroughly performed with ease, as their force is now very small, and they cannot afford to defend all their possessions; and, as I am thoroughly acquainted with those parts, and am remembered still there as one that has commanded, I have, to all appearance, a better chance for performing this service than any one of your dependants.” This message was sent by the channel of Aaly-hibrahim-qhan. The Vezir heard the whole of it, and, What! broke the forth, if Aaly-djah\(278\) should not come back again? What is to be done? Aaly-hibrahim-qhan answered, “That such a conjecture could not but be groundless, as Aaly-djah had no other place of shelter, and no other resource than the gate of the Vezirial palace.” This answer did not pacify the Vezir. He spoke like one that had conceptions and suspicions of a high nature, although quite foreign to the subject; but at last he added, That if he chose to be surety for him, and to rémain as an hostage, he had no objection to the scheme. Aaly-hibrahim-qhan replied, “That he had no objections to his remaining as hostage, but not for the payment of the promised money. That, as to the last article, whenever Aaly-djah should establish contributions all over the country, he, Aaly-hibrahim-qhan, would not fail to press him for the payment of the money; nor would he prove dilatory in sending to the Vezirial treasury, whatever would be transmitted from thence.” Not so, Sir,—not in this manner, interrupted the Vezir. “Then,” replied the Qhan, “it shall be as your Highness shall please. But, if that chance to be the case, people will naturally ascribe to your Highness whatever good or whatever ill may result from this affair; nor will they fail to charge on your Ministry, and not on Aaly-djah, every disgrace, if any, that may chance to happen. That Prince has done every thing in his power to get to the gate of your palace, which he thought would afford him an asylum against his enemies, and a comfortable retreat, after all his toils. The question is now, how to contrive some expedient that may conserve unsullied, both the honour of command, and the lustre of dominion, and may again bring the water to its bed.” This discourse seemed to make an impression on the Vezir. (which he endeavoured to smother, although he was not endowed with much power of dissimulation;) and he answered, That he would appoint some other person for that business, The Qhan replied, “That he wished for nothing more than for what might prove fittest for attaining the intended purposes, and would best conduce to His Highness’s welfare.” One would think that the proposed scheme was of importance enough to engross the attention of a man who was marching to the conquest of Bengal; nevertheless it was soon forgotten by a Prince immersed in his pleasures; and the Qhan returned to Mir-cassem, to whom he made a faithful report of the whole conversation.
Whilst this forlorn Prince was labouring to extricate himself from the difficulties of his situation, his steward, Mir-suléiman, had already parted his concerns from those of his master’s; for he had by this time made matters easy to himself, by coming to an understanding with Mirza-behl8, the Vezir’s ancient tutor, and with Beni-bahadyr, his Minister, as well as with the principal persons of that faithless Court; and meanwhile, by changing his garment, and putting on a Fakir’s garb, he had contrived to get himself out of his master’s way, and to secure a retreat. Mir-cassem hearing of that retreat, went to see him, and he engaged him to retake his apparel, and to do duty as usual. But as the poet has it: The fortress of Ila-abad surrenders to the English.
| “How long to ward off a discontent that constantly furnishes a real subject?” |
Most of those subjects of discontent arose from the steward’s
appearing to be in so close a connection with his master’s adversaries;
and as the latter in conversing with his friends, used
often to complain of his infidelities, and to say openly: I have
seen to-day on Beni-bahadyr’s turband a serpitch,\(279\)
which
I remember to have recommended to my steward’s care….I saw
yesterday, on such a one’s finger, a valuable ring which I had
worn myself, and which was entrusted to Mir-suléiman’s care.
Such and the like discourses being regularly reported to the
man, rendered him fearful of the consequences that might ensue
from an inquiry into his endless infidelities. He therefore quitted
his master’s quarters, and going into Shudjah-ed-döulah’s camp,
he took up his abode in Mirza-behl8’s quarters, and in those of
Aaly-beg-qhan, who was a principal General of the Vezir’s. Six
days after this retreat of the steward’s, a high worded message
came from the Vezir, on account of the monthly payment due by
Mir-cassem. The latter excused himself on his impotence; but,
having at the same time added some complaints against the
Vezir, he widened the breach, which was already gaping open.
Not but some of his friends, and especially Aaly-hibrahim-qhan,
had more than once objected to his uttering complaints in that
strain. But they were faithfully reported to the Vezir, by the
The whole
of Shudjah-ed-döulah’s
dominions
submit to the
English.
means of Mir-abb8, aud some others, who being yet in the number
of Mir-cassem’s friends and favourites, thought of preparing for
themselves a place for shelter amongst the Grandees of the Vezir’s
Court, although they often joined themselves in those complaints,
and seemed to encourage them. These complaints now afforded
the Vezir a pretence for breaking with Mir-cassem; his intention
having all along been to get rid of the promises he had
made that fugitive, and to set aside the safe cönduct he had
given him. Matters at last came to an open rupture. He sent
Mir-cassem word, That the Emperor required of him the
balances due to his treasury upon the revenue of Bengal; and
talked of sending enforcers of payment; and that it was therefore
incumbent upon him to devise same means for giving him
satisfaction as quickly as possible. Mir-cassem, on hearing a
message so abrupt, sent Aaly-hibrahim-qhan to make some representations
to the Vezir; and the envoy, after having presented
Mir-cassem’s respects, added in his name, “That his
master, when he had risked every thing, and given up every
thing, to open a passage to the gates of the Vezirial palace,
had looked upon that measure as the likeliest to put an end to
all his toils, and to procure him some ease for the future; in
which view he had not been sparing of whatever fortune had
still left in his power; but that now his means were exhausted.
Nevertheless, that if His Majesty was pleased to form pretensions
upon him, it would be easy to clear them at once, by
ordering Beni-bahadyr to examine the accounts; when, if any
balance should appear as due, Aaly-djah would do the impossible
to come up with it; but that if the pretension should prove
to be groundless, then his master would hope every thing from
the interference and protection of His Highness.” This message,
although delivered with that respectful politeness, and that
soothing tone of voice, which were so natural to Aaly-hibrahim-qhan,
seemed to raise the Vezir’s irascibility of temper. What
business have I with all that? screamed he. It is an affair
between the Emperor and him. And who is Beni-bahadyr to
interfere in it? As to my own part, I inform you that tomorrow
I go a hunting. But the Emperor is the master. Doubtless,
he will do what he shall think proper. Aaly-hibrahim-qhan
concluding, from these words, that there remained no hopes from
that quarter, made his report to his master accordingly; and the
latter, who upon any alarm or difficulty, used always to consult
that nobleman, now asked him his advice. The other answered
in these words: “If there be money in your treasury, there is
no doubt but that satisfaction must be given to the Vezir; but
if there be none, I see no other part for you, than that of
quitting your tents, and sitting without, after having sent a
message to the Vezir to inform him, that you had come to his
dominions for an asylum and for protection, and still looked up
to him for protection and favour; and that at present your person,
consort, family, and property, with your remaining effects
were entirely at his disposal; all which His Highness might
use, as he in his wisdom and goodness might think proper.”
This was Aaly-hibrahim-qhan’s advice, but some thoughtless people that surrounded Mir-cassem, made additions to it; and the latter listening to their suggestions, thought proper on the Mir-cassem, in dispair, turns Fakir. morning of the eighth of Zilhidj, in the year 1177, to quit his tent at day-break, and to take his seat on a common mat, spread on the outside of it. He had quitted not only his Mesned,\(280\) but also his apparel, and he had on now only a shirt, and a Fakir’s cap,\(281\) without either a turbant, or any thing else. A number of his friends and acquaintances, without attending to time or place, had quitted their own apparel likewise, and, to the number of twenty, had put on a few coloured clothes, like so many Fakirs; and in that condition they became a spectacle to the whole army. Intelligence of this change being carried to the Vezir, he was alarmed; and he concluded that Mir-cassem’s turning Fakyr in his own camp, and on the Day of the Sacriflce, would greatly\(282\) redound to his disgrace, and mar the purpose for which he destined that fugitive. Directly he sent his General, Aaly-beg-qhan, to administer some consolation to him, with many excuses for his yesterday’s message, and to endeavour to pacify and quiet his mind. This apology was sent both in the Vezir’s name, and in that of his mother, who went by the title of the Navvab Begum.\(283\) Aaly-beg-qhan, who was a well spoken eloquent man, although one that spoke boldly and without scruple, commenced by blaming his master highly, and by casting high reflections upon him; after such a preamble, he apologised in his and in the Princess’s name for the impropriety of the last message, and worked so powerfully on his mind by the sweet persuasion which flowed from his lips, that Mir-cassem altered his notions; but as he had not much of that readiness of delivery, and that elegance of speech, so remarkable in Aaly-hibrahim-qhan, he sent for that nobleman immediately. The latter had never approved a change of dress; but yet had thought it incumbent upon him to alter his own likewise, both to avoid any reproach from Mir-cassem’s friends, and to parry the invidiousness of a comparison of dress, should he appear in his usual apparel. Little inclined, however, to go all the lengths of a Fakir’s garb, he contented himself with putting on a simple shirt; and taking down his usual turbant, he put on a pointed cap, round which he carelessly rolled up a coarse linen; and in this garb he followed the messenger. But on finding Mir-cassem exactly in the garb in which he had been reported to be, he took his seat, hung down his head, and remained silent, without uttering a single word. After some moments of silence, Mir-cassem himself opened the matter by these words: My Lord-qhan, the Navvab-vezir wants you. You must go. At these words, Aaly-hibrahim got up, and was going to follow the General. And pray, broke forth the latter, do you intena to go to Court in that garb to the Vezir of Hindostan? “I will by all means,” answered the other; “and if my master’s affairs are come to this, that such a garb should befit him, how can I object to it for my ownself? The sight of Aaly-hibrahim in that garb, affected the Vezir; he spoke to him with the utmost kindness, asked the reason of Aaly-djah’s having altered his dress, and apologised for the abruptness of his message. “The Emperor, said he, had mentioned something to me. I repeated it to Aaly-djah. The message required an answer, and not a change of dress; which by its cap and shirt should redound to my dishonour, and render me odious through all the world.” The other with a downcast look, and an air of dejection, answered, “that Aaly-djah having always looked up to the Vezir’s palace, as to his place of shelter and consolation; and His Highness having shewn a disregard to his concerns in not protecting him against the Imperial message; that Prince had naturally concluded that he had nothing further to hope from His Highness, and had therefore quitted the world, like a man without resource.” At these words, the Vezir without making any answer, beckoned to Beni-bahadyr, and bid him talk with Aaly-hibrahim-qhan. On this command, the two Ministers retired to a corner, but in the Vezir’s presence, and commenced conferring together. On Beni-bahadyr’s endeavouring to fix some balances on Mir-cassem, Aaly-hibrahim-qhan, with the greatest sweetness of temper, and the most elegant flow of language, repelled every one of his shafts, and shewed irrefragably that no balances could be due by his master. The conserence took up a whole hour, when the Vezir interrupted, and asked whether nothing was determined yet? No, answered Beni-bahadyr, for the dispute is managed by two able antagonists. Upon this the Vezir rose, and going into a qhass-tent,\(284\) that had been prepared to shelter him from the heat of the weather, he beckoned to Aaly-hibrahim-qhan, and repeated the same arguments that had been brought forward by Beni-bahadyr; and Aaly-hibrahim-qhan returned the same answers. The Vezir paused, and added that the method made use of by Aaly-djah, would greatly redound to his (the Vezir’s) disgrace, and to his bad renown. It is not his fault, answered Aaly-hibrahim-qhan; having despaired of all protection, he has quitted the world, and has acted in a manner suitable to his circumstances, in a manner worthy of himself; let your Highness, on your side, act in a manner worthy of your ownself. “I understand,” said the Vezir; “do you go directly, and I follow.” Aaly-hibrahim-qhan was making his report to Mir-cassem, when the Vezir himself appeared. He humbled himself, made many apologies, excused the past, and requested his laying down his Fakir’s garb, and his re-assuming his usual dress, immediately. Mir-cassem having answered that such a request proved a matter of pride to him, directly complied with the Vezir’s pleasure; and one would have thought that all this disagreeable affair had been put an end to, and quashed for ever.
However, two or three days after this, the ungrateful Somro
surrounded Mir-cassem’s quarters with his Talingas, and asked
the arrears of his pay. As there was no money in the treasury,
there came some gold coin out of the sanctuary; and he took
it in pay. After he was gone, Mir-cassem sent him word, that
as in his present circumstances, he could not afford to keep so
many men in pay, he ought therefore to return into the steward’s
office the artillery, field-pieces, implements, and such flint locks
as belonged to it; his intention being to keep only two regiments
of Talingas. The ungrateful Somro, who had already taken
service with the Vezir, had the front to answer, “That now
both the cannon and muskets, with every thing else, belonged
to him who had them in his power.” After this answer he
quitted his post, and went to encamp amongst the Vezir’s troops.
Hardly was this affair over, when Moosher-Dgentil, (Mons.
Gentil) came to Aaly-hibrahim-qhan in the dark of the night, and
gave him the following piece of advice. This Frenchman, who
had once been dismissed from Mir-cassem-qhan’s service, was
this longwhile attached to the Vezir, but still professing a
sincere regard for Aaly-hibrahim-qhan. “To-morrow, said he, the
Vezir’s troops shall come down to seize and arrest Mir-cassem;
and a great tumult will doubtless ensue. God only knows what
will happen to you. Take then these six Frenchmen, and let
them remain with you; and rest assured that so long as they
are alive, no Indian will touch you.” Aaly-hibrahim-qhan
returned him thanks for his exemplary attachment and goodness;
but excused himself from accepting the proffered assistance,
as it would be ungenerous in him to remain secure under
the protection of his friends, whilst his master might be exposed
to imminent danger. The next morning, at about nine
o’clock, a number of troopers mounted in the Vezir’s camp, and
advanced towards Mir-cassem’s quarters. On their setting out,
Moosher-Dgentil came again, after having detached himself from
his battalion of Talingas. He was bringing a number of his men,
and he repeated the same intreaties as the night before; and
Aaly-hibrahim-qhan repeated the same excuses. The Frenchman
melted into tears, and returned to the head of his corps.
That moment the Vezir’s troops arrived, and after having surrounded
Mir-cassem’s tents, they placed a strong guard over
the apartment of the women, and another at each of the several
offices. Their Commander went to Mir-cassem’s tent, made him
mount upon an elephant sent for the purpose, took his seat
behind in the Háodah, and having commanded his cavalry to
surround him, he carried his prisoner to the Vezir’s encampment,
where he kept him in confinement in the place appointed for
that purpose. In the evening some troopers were descried coming
at full gallop towards Aaly-hibrahim-qhan’s quarters; who
being informed of it, concluded that they came for him; and he
exhorted those that were then about his tent, to provide for their
own safety, and to leave him to his own fate; he was then sick
and upon his bed. On these words, all those present thought
proper to disappear, except Mir-shetari, and Ghalub-qhan, and
Vahed-aaly-qhan (this last was his brother), who resolved to share
his fate. The horsemen being now arrived, alighted at once,
and making their horses fast, they surrounded the tent as a guard
over him, and took possession of all his effects. A couple of
hours before this event, one Burhan, an Afghan officer, a man, who
for an Afghan, seemed to have some sense and some knowledge,
came into the tent; and this man who was so far indebted to
the Qhan for his fortune as to be perpetually ringing lectures
to his other friends upon gratitude, now made his appearance;
and under pretence of being more zealous and grateful than any
of them, he told him in great secrecy, that if he had any thing to
conceal, he must do it immediately in his hands, as he was going
to be seized instantly. The Qhan, without any emotion, answered
that he had nothing of value in his possession, but two elephants
and some camels; and that he might take them, and
keep them in the best manner he could devise. That worthy
man, who had always pretended himself one of the most grateful
and most pious men in the world, took the elephants and camels,
and went away with them, and this too in so secret a place, as
to disappoint every search and every inquiry made for him subsequently.
Whilst Aaly-hibrahim-qhan was admiring the ways
of Providence in Mir-cassem’s case; and how the friends of that
unfortunate Prince had all disappeared, after having made each
of them their nest in the bosom of some of the Grandees of the
Vezir’s Court; he was informed that the Moonshy-hafyz-esrar-qhan,
who was Mir-cassem’s fovourite Secretary,\(285\)
had been
violently seized, with some other heads of office, and put under
confinement. In this extremity, some one present advised Aaly-hibrahim-qhan
to write a supplique to the Vezir, and he accordingly
wrote a short note. The Vezir was already retired within
the sanctuary; but such was the ascendant which that worthy
man had gained even there by the sweetness of his temper and
the uprightness of his behaviour (a character of his that had
come to be known even there, whilst he was carrying presents
and messages from Mir-cassem to the Princess-consort, and to
the Princess-mother); such was the regard paid him by the
women, the only guards of the gate; that on hearing of his being
sick and in confinement, they against the usual rules, carried his
note within, and put it in the Vezir’s hands. Immediately an
eunuch of the presence came out, and went to Aaly-hibrahim-qhan’s
quarters, to infrom him under an order of the Vezirs’ signing,
“that there was no intention at all to do him any harm;
that Prince only intending to put some questions to him, and
to hear his answers.” He at the same time commanded the
troopers to watch only at a distance, and to take care how they
presumed to offer any insult, or to be guilty of any want of
respect. The next morning some troopers of Shudjah-cooly-qhan’s
regiment, (an officer who bore a good character, and went
by the name of Mia-yssa,\(286\)
came down, and informed Aaly-hibrahim-qhan
that the Vezir wanted to speak to him. Aaly-hibrahim-qhan
put on a plain shirt, and a turband slightly
rolled,\(287\)
and getting into his paleky, he went to Court. But the
troopers being themselves of the scum of the people, and commanded
by men like themselves, carried him first towards Mir-cassem’s
quarters, and then to some other places, and repeated
the same trip three several times. The Qhan tired of so much
travelling, sent one of his servants to Mia-yssa, to complain of
such usage, and to inform him that he was going to Court by
order, but could not comprehend what the troopers might get by
carrying him about from place to place, as he was ready to go,
and take some rest in any place he would be carried to. This
representation had its effect, and Mia-yssa sent a person to reprimand
the troopers, with orders to bring the Qhan to him, and
to treat him with respect. The person, after reprimanding and
abusing the troopers, brought Aaly-hibrahim-qhan to the Vezir’s
hall of audience, where Beni-bahadyr and Shudjah-cooly-qhan
were sitting in a circle, with Moosher-Dgentil, and the supervisor,
Yac8b-qhan. Moosher-Dgentil, on descrying Aaly-hibrahim
qhan, got up to do him honour; and the others, ashamed to be
outdone by a foreigner, got up likewise, and made the Qhan sit
honourably amongst themselves. It was in the apartment that
served for school to Mirza-amani,\(288\)
eldest son to the Vezir.
All those present endeavoured to administer some comfort. They
took a concern in his illness, dispatched a man to the Physician,
Doctor Mahmed-aaly-qhan, and were talking of putting him
directly under a course of medicines. The Qhan excused himself
from taking any, as the day was already so much spent; but a
moment after, they carried him to the Vezir’s presence. The Secretary,
Hafyz-esrar-qhan, was already standing there, together with
the eunuch, Soheily-aaly-qhan, superintendent of Mir-cassem’s
Elephant office, with some other dependants of that prisoner’s.
The Qhan presented a nuzur of one eshreffy\(289\)
and some
rupees to the Vezir; and then took his seat, before being bid;
upon which Beni-bahadyr and those that accompanied him, took
their seats likewise. The Vezir, who that day wore a Persian
dress,\(290\)
and had in his hand a battle axe of exquisite workmanship,
fixing his eyes upon the Qhan, said, “My Lord-qhan,
what wrong had I done to your master, when on the engagement
at Patna, he gave orders to fire upon me, should I come that
way, after beating the English.\(291\)
Such an accusation
would not but confound the Qhan. He answered, “that he had
never heard of any such thing; and woe to him! added he,
who, after having come so far for protection to the Vezir, should
have had the ingratitude to give such an order, against a Prince
who had received him with so much kindness, and was actually
exposing his life for his sake against such enemies as the
English.” Such an implied denial displeased the Vezir. “What,
said that Prince, “do you believe then, that I can tell you lies?
I will send for Somro, and bring him face to face with Aaly-djah
in your presence, if you choose it.” “I have not accused
your Highness of an imposition, replied the Qhan, but only professed
my own ignorance of such a fact; and as to bringing
Somro face to face with Aaly-djah, matters are now come to
such a low ebb, that even a menial servant of his may be confronted
with him; whereas Somro is a man in office, and one
constitued in dignity.” The Vezir affected by this indirect reproach,
paused awhile, changed the discourse, and did every
thing in his power to soothe the Qhan’s mind, and to gain his
affection, whilst he at the same time went on with blaming Mir-cassem.
You are a good man, added the Vezir, but he did not
like you; probably, because, when he spoke ill of me in your
presence, you objected to his holding such a language. Your objections,
however, he did not mind; and indeed I cannot understand,
how with such a friend as you at his elbow, he did not
like you. “I know nothing of the matter, neither, replied the
Qhan, although I was endeavouring to serve him well; nor am
I conscious of having done wrong at any time, or of having
given him a wrong advice; unless indeed it should be after the
capture of Azim-abad by the English, when most of his friends
proposing his going into Decan, and his exciting the Marhattas,
to his support, I strongly objected to that scheme, and proposed
by all means his seeking an asylum in the Vezir’s dominions,
as I knew no place of more honour and safety for him than the
gate of the Vezirial palace.” The Vezir on hearing these
words seemed confounded; he fetched a sigh, dropped a tear,
and did not dare to utter a word. After a pause, he expressed
Sigular discourse
between
Aalyhibrahim-
qhan and
Shudja-ed-döulah.
again a concern for his case; and he was going on, but unable to
conceal any further his confusion, he got up and went to the
women’s apartment; when his favourites having outmarched him,
ranged themselves on both sides of the gate, and made their bow.
The Vezir having made a sign towards the Qhan, went into his
sanctuary. On this Mia-yssa and the others carried that noble
man into the Mekteb-qhana or Mirza-amani’s school, “and
told him that His Highness had from that moment taken him
into his service, as a proof of which, orders had been dispatched
for bringing back his effects, all which, horses and furniture,
had been recovered; that as a further token of his goodness,
he had ordered a tent to be pitched for him, at the very door of
his own tent of audience; but that His Highness in his turn expected
a full confession as to the persons to whom Mir-cassem
had entrusted his money; that the bankers to whom he had
entrusted his jewels at Banares, had been found out, but that
nothing had transpired about those that had received his money
in their custody; that it was therefore expected, that he, who had
been always admitted to all his secrets, would be so obliging as
to point those persons out; the more so as himself had been
entrusted with forty thousand eshreffies; and that if the assertion
should prove to be true, he (Aaly-hibrahim-qhan) was
too honest a man to deny the deposit; and if that sum had
been entrusted to another, he might easily point him out, and
by such a confidence entitle himself to the Vezir’s utmost
regard and favour.” So strange a declaration was answered
by Aaly-hibrahim-qhan in these words: “To this day no one
ever put such questions to me, or even hinted any thing of the
matter; now that His Highness requests information, I will
give him such a one, as I can afford. Nann8, the spy, for
instance, a great friend of Somro’s, and one who has ruined
so many families, knows much of these matters undoubtedly,
and must be informed of the person to whom these forty
thousand eshreffies were entrusted.” Nann8 being sent for,
was confronted with the Qhan; but before he could come up,
one of the interlocutors present, got up, and going to the gate,
sent word to the Vezir, that it was probable that much money
was going to be discovered. The others meanwhile were pressing
the Qhan, with their questions. That nobleman without
being ruffled by their obstreperousness, was answering with calmness,
“that every thing, from the cold water office to the office of
jewels, had been entrusted to Somro and to the Talingas under
his command, together with a hundred thousand eshreffies;
and all this doubtless must have been delivered to the
Vezir’s people, or it must have not.” At these words all the
eyes were turned towards Nann8, then standing; but on Nann8’s
denying the fact, and objecting, that the whole was groundless, all
eyes again were turned towards the Qhan. The latter replied, “If
you deny any credit to him whom you pretend to have been a man
of so much consequence, as to have had no secret hidden from
him, pray how can you give any confidence to, I know not what
light-headed people, whom you acknowledge yourselves as too
low, to have had any knowledge of secret transactions? And
how can you suppose that such people are capable of sticking
to truth.” Beni-bahadyr, struck with this reply, got up, and
going to the gate of the sanctuary, he transmitted it to the
Vezir, without alteration or addition. The Vezir returned this
answer: There is no disputing with a man armed cap-a-pie. The
match is unequal; nor is there argumenting with one who has
convicted the master of hardness of heart and perfidy, and the
minister of inattention and ignorance. It is a fruitless task,
and quite disgraceful. Do then dismiss him with much civility;
and let that matter alone.—The conference being ended, the
Qhan turned towards Mia-yssa, and represented, that to keep
ten or twelve unfortunate people of broken wings and ruined
fortunes confined at the entrance of a hall of audience, could
not much conduce to quiet their minds. “If your intention be
really to oblige your friend,” added he, “let me be conducted to
your own quarters.” The officer, without saying a word, went
straight to the gate, and sent in a request to have the Qhan in
his quarters, and in his custody; and the request being granted
instantly, Mya-yssa carried the Qhan to his quarters, and for a
month and-a-half together, (for he was slain soon after) he never
abated any thing from the civilities and attentions which he had
shewn to his prisoner on the very first day. He did every thing
in his power to alleviate his case, and to quiet his mind. As to
Mir-cassem, the whole of his property having been traced by
the means of the severities exercised upon his women, upon his
eunuchs, and upon his other dependants, the whole was confiscated;
and nothing remained to him, but a few jewels of high
value, which he had some time before this event, sent to Negib-ed-döulah’s
country, under the care of a trusty servant of his,
whose name deserves to be recorded. It was Sheh-mahmed-ashec;
and it was the sale of these that supported the forlorn
Prince in his days of distress. There may have been some
other small matters besides, which his women by the means of
the old ones, their attendants, may have found means to conceal;
and that is probable enough, although the enquiry had been so
rigorous; but no detail on that subject is come to our knowledge,
nor can it be traced at this distance of time with any certitude.
Whilst Mir-cassem was consuming his days in the dungeon of a reverse of fortune, his unworthy steward, Mir-suléiman, was coming out from the corner of infamy, with Solomon’s ring at his finger;\(292\) and not content with becoming a favourite of the Vezir’s, he turned out informer, and gave his new master advice: “that Yaacob-qhan, the Commandant of the troops in the fortress of Rohotas, as well as Sahomul, the Governor of it, were both dependent on him, as men that owed their fortunes to him; he added that the seraglio and wealth and effects lodged there, were thoroughly known to him (Suléiman) as having been lodged there by himself; and that if the Vezir were pleased to issue some orders, he had a scheme ready by which that fortress with all its dependencies and contents might be brought under his power, and be annexed to his dominions.” As the Vezir himself had a turn of mind for such adventurous expeditions, he very much caressed Mir-suléiman on his project, and gave him such letters as he desired; some to Rahim-qhan, Governor of Saharseram, on the Vezir’s part; and some to the principal persons of that district, besides those to Yaacob-qhan himself, and to Sahomul, who commanded in Rohotas.
Mir-suléiman, trusting to the former connections which he had with the Governor and Commandant, and to the important services which he had rendered them (ties which after all are never minded by the man of the world, but at the moment of need), arrived at Rohotas, with all his letters. Just at this very time it happened that Major Monro, a King’s servant, who had been appointed by the Council of Calcutta to the Command-in-Chief of the English forces, was just landed at Azim-abad, from whence he had wrote me by the channel of Doctor Fullarton, “That if I could contrive to put the fortress of Rohotas in the hands of the English, I would entitle myself to their friendship and gratitude.” Upon this intimation I applied to Radja Sahomul, a man who had the greatest obligations to our family, (our Djaghiry estate forming the territory of that fortress) and I informed him, “that it was not in the nature of things that the English should not prevail, shortly, and shortly should not overthrow and ruin the Vezir, and his confederates; that it was incumbent upon him therefore to examine the respective circumstances of both parties, and to take his resolution betimes; but in such a manner, by all means as not to deliver the fortress to his master’s enemies, and still less to a traitor, who had trampled on every thing sacred amongst mankind.” Sahomul, who was a shrewd man, having examined my proposals, together with those of Mir-suléiman’s, soon took his resolution, and he desired me to manage in such a manner, as that an officer with some English troops might be sent to those parts; and whilst he kept Mir-suléiman in suspense, he put in my hands a paper, containing his requests, and the conditions on which he was willing to surrender the fortress; desiring me to return it, signed and approved by the English Commander. This paper having been transmitted to Doctor Fullarton, the Major returned it, signed and approved; and I put it in the hands of Sahomul; who, on Captain Goddard’s approaching from Ticary with a force, surrendered the fortress, with all its contents. Mir-suléiman, informed that an English battalion of Talingas was coming, comprehended what was the matter; and making the best of his way to the Vezir’s army, he represented the whole transaction to that Prince with the most dismal colours; nor was I without great apprehensions, lest some body of cavalry should come from thence to carry me off, or to do us some great mischief. I entertained therefore some thoughts of retiring to a place of safety; when Sahomul, who soon had fallen out with Captain Goddard, and was now upon the worst terms with him, represented to me that not one of the stipulated conditions had been observed with him; and that as he had been evidently and greatly injured, I must repair to Azim-abad with him, to represent his case to the English Rulers. I had already applied myself to Doctor Fullarton for leave to repair to Azim-abad; and having got from thence a safe conduct, I shewed it to my father, to whom I represented the danger of his remaining at Hosséin-abad in such a time of trouble and confusion. I advised him therefore to let me depart; and to answer all the enquiries which the Vezir might make on my account, with some excuse framed to this purport: “That Gholam-hosséin-qhan was indeed his son, but a son quite independent, who was these many years in connection with the English, and for whose actions he would not be responsible.” I added, that such an excuse would prove valuable in case the Vezir should prevail; and as to myself who would be then with the English, I was resolved to take my chance with them, and to share their fate; but that, if the English should prevail, no danger would result to my father from their victory; so far from it, that my attachment to them would be productive of some obligations and some return. After having settled this matter with my father, I took Sahomul with me, and went to Azim-abad. Major Munro was already returned thither, and it was there I learned some particulars relative to the conduct he had held with regard to the mutiny which happened amongst the Talingas stationed in the District of Sarun. These men, quitting at once their station upon some discontent, had deserted into Balvant-sing’s country, and had also carried away their Captain, who, however, had found means to get out of their hands; but they had met at last with a condign punishment for their desertion. I heard also, how the Major had marched against the proud Vezir, and how the negotiations between this Prince and the English had ended in nothing but a complete defeat, which they gave him, and which domolished him totally. All these particulars I got a full information of, and they shall be mentioned in the following sheets.
Shudjah-ed-döulah, after raising the siege of Azim-abad, had returned to Bacsar in the Bodjp8r country. It was a town on the Ganga, and over against Ghazip8r, which district is of his own dependence; and it was there he resolved to pass the rainy season in a camp. Mir-djaafer-qhan being informed of this, resolved also to return to Calcutta, to settle certain matters with the English. He had some time before appointed his own brother, Mir-cassem-qhan, to the Government of Azim-abad, a man of much goodness of heart, and great simplicity of manners, but of little capacity or knowledge. And he had given him for his Deputy a Gentoo called Durdj-naráin, who was brother to the deceased Ram-naráin: a man unfit for so cumbersome and so intricate a charge, and indeed unfit for any thing at all. After having, as he thought, provided for the government of that country, he set out for Calcutta, a voyage that proved his last, and which carried him to the confines of eternity. But should it be asked, what then could be Durdj-naráin’s merits for being promoted to so important an office, the answer would be, that he was possessed of the merit of having had a brother drowned by Mir-cassem, and of the greater one of being himself in disgrace with that Prince; for it had become a standing rule of Mir-djaafer-qhan’s politics, to depress to the utmost every one of those that might have been in favour with his rival, although ever so worthy of promotion, and likewise so remarkable for abilities; and on the contrary, to raise and promote all those that had been in disgrace with him, although ever so unworthy or so incapable. It was on such a principle, that the old man seemed averse from suffering such a number of noblemen and gentlemen of the best families of the country, to return to their homes and possessions; although it was notorious they had followed his predecessor’s fortunes, solely to screen themselves from the oppression of a prevalent party. Of this number were Mirza-abdollah and Mirza-bakyr, (both sons to Aga-mirza) and Gholam-aaly-qhan and Y8ss8f-aaly-qhan, and several others, who were hovering on the outskirts of Bahar and Bengal, and went on enduring distresses and miseries, until at last their misfortunes were put an end to, by the old man’s demise; at which time the exiled and the dispersed found means to return to their homes and to enjoy their families. On the other hand, any one that had proved a traitor to Mir-cassem, never failed, whether at Azim-abad or at M8rsh8d-abad, to become an object of regard, to be promoted to offices, and to enjoy the old man’s confidence. And it was on so laudable a plan that he settled every thing at Azim-abad; after which he set out for Calcutta, where he became endlessly occupied in discussions, and even in altercations with the members of the English Council. For Governor Vansittart, who was thoroughly apprised of the baseness of his character, and thoroughly sensible of the supineness and imbecility of his mind, strongly feared lest he might fill the city, and even the whole province, with proscriptions and blood, should he be suffered to repair to M8rsh8d-abad with an uncontrouled authority; he knew that in such a case he would not fail to make use of his power to torment every considerable man in the country, and to deluge the city with blood; and his anxieties were so strong on that head, that he had purposely suffered the negotiation with him to take its own course in the alter cations of the Council, where after a length of time nothing was yet concluded finally.
It was on the same principle, he would not permit him to carry out of Calcutta, and to keep in the high office of Divan or Prime Minister, a Gentoo, named Nandecomar, a man of an intriguing spirit, who bore the highest sway upon his mind; but who having already vexed numbers of persons of distinction throughout the province, would avail himself of his ascendant over his master, to attack indiscriminately whomsoever he chose to demolish. The President himself being impressed with these notions, and thoroughly sensible of the character of these two men, no entreaties, however urgent, from Mir-djaafer-qhan, could obtain of the Council a permission to carry Nandecomar with him, and to put him in office. Nevertheless on his being arrived at M8rsh8d-abad, he was so well tutored by his friends of Calcutta, he learned to write such artificious letters to the Council, and he succeeded so well in gaining some of the ruling members to his party, that the Governor, to get rid of their clamorous intrigues, consented to Nandecomar’s repairing to his master. But, however, to guard his successors as much as possible against this man’s dangerous character, and endless intrigues, he wrote a memoir upon him, got it bound in the form of a book, and kept it for use. As to the new Minister, on his being returned to M8rsh8d-abad, he worked himself into so much authority, that he undertook to demolish no less a man than Mahmed-reza-qhan. This nobleman, who was son-in-law to Rabia-begum, and to Ata-ollah-qhan, and enjoyed now the high office of Nazem, or Governor of the province of Djehan-ghir-nugur-dacca, found himself under the necessity of crouching to the new Minister, and of seeing most of the business of his department torn out of his hands, and referred to people appointed by the Court. The Minister went so far, that the Navvab, in compliance with his will, dismissed that nobleman from his office, and moreover had him brought prisoner to M8rsh8d-abad; and probably would have proceeded farther, had not both the master and the Minister been intimidated by the interference of the Chief of Cassim-bazar, who procured his release by dint of threats. Luckily for him that Mir-djaafer-qhan\(293\) fell sick at this very time, and became worse and worse; at last on the fourteenth of Shaaban, A. D. 1765. being a Thursday of the year 1178 of the Hedjra, he departed this life, and passed over the stream which divides the confines of this fragile world, from the Regions of Eternity. Several persons of credit have affirmed that some moments before his demise, he had, on Nandecomar’s persuasion, ordered to be brought to him some water that had been poured in libation over the idol at Kyirut-conah, (a famous temple of the Gentoos in the neighbourhood M8rsh8d-abad) and that some drops of it were poured down the dying man’s throat; this being the last water which he tasted.
| “Let this serve you for a warning, if you are capable of listening to it: |
| If you sow thorns, you cannot expect to reap Peaches.” |
Preserve us, O God! as well as all believers, from such a sickness, and such a death.
It must be observed that the old Navvab, intimidated by the Vezir’s numbers, and by his personal character for valour and prowess, had always wished ardently for a peace upon any terms; and the English themselves, impressed with high ideas of his power, and affected by the shame and disgrace of fighting against the legitimate possessor of the throne, were desirous of some accommodation, provided it could be obtained without endangering their trade; nor had they any objections to the Emperor’s or rather to the Vezir’s keeping possession of the province of Azim-abad, if they could be left themselves in quiet possession of Bengal, under a certain quit-rent. But Shudjah-ed-döulah, equally proud andignorant, (and ignorance is become in these times so prevalent, and so much in fashion, that there is hardly a single Prince in India, but that labours under a want of intellects) Shudjah-ed-döulah, I say, who expected mighty conquests from his achievements, and had conceived as high an opinion of his own power, as he had an indifferent one of what his enemies could perform, would not hear of peace on those terms; and he thought himself equal to the task of conquering all the three provinces. Indeed he had a numerous army with plenty of artillery, great and small, and plenty of all the necessaries requisite for war; but no knowledge at all about the means of availing himself of so much power; and he was so presumptuous at the same time, and so obstinate and full of himself, that he would not listen to any adviser and well-wisher, although he had many; and it is for that presumptuous ignorance of his, that he saw what he saw. Strange it is! that in this age, as soon as fortune has taken a fancy to any one, so as to distinguish him from his equals, by raising him to the height of power and influence, he from that moment forgets himself totally; his whole frame undergoes a revolution; and the man thinking himself superior to those Prophets and ancient Sages of old, who have approved themselves so much above the usual powers of the human mind, at once assumes that independence of thought, and that originality of conduct, which was indeed characteristic in those great men, but which cannot suit the narrow limits of human understanding. Those great men, and above all, the Crown of created beings\(294\) (upon whom be grace and salute for ever!) who was indeed the greatest genius existing, and acted besides under the immediate impulse of revelation; these extraordinary beings, I say, had no occasion to take advice; and as to the greatest Princes and Commanders of the times past, they always made it a point to ask advice, and to consult their Ministers and friends on every subject of consequence. But now, as soon as fortune has been so favourable to any one, as to raise him suddenly to power, he from that moment fancies himself a compound of all excellence, and a being of a nature superior to human kind; such, in a word, as would degrade its high nature by asking advice, or holding councils; nay such a man comes at last to think, that asking advice would be detracting from his own dignity, and that deferring to a sensible opinion, would be derogating from his own wisdom, be the adviser, an Aristotle or some superior being.\(295\) These men seem to think that genius and abilities follow money. Nor is it uncommon to hear them say: We have genius and understanding by thousands and by hundred thousands, whereas the others have it only by tenths and by hundreds; as if both genius and talents were of a nature to be counted by tale, or weighed by scale. Such is the state of mankind in India. Good God! what is merit reduced to in that ill-fated region! And what is become in those countries of the dignity of the human race! O God! vouchsafe in your goodness and mercy to infuse patience and resignation in our minds for the injuries done us; and change our alarms into quiet and security!\(296\)
Mir-djaafer-qhan was yet at Calcutta, when Major Monro, in consequence of a revolution, of which I know neither the detail nor the secret springs, arrived at that city in a Manvarian ship, which in their language signifies a ship of war; and as the Council of Calcutta were displeased with the protraction of the war against Shudjah-ed-döulah, and were much inclined to ascribe those delays to Major Carnac’s want of enterprise and abilities, they appointed Major Monro to supersede him in the command of the army. But independently of that supersession, it is a standing rule with that nation, that whenever a King’s officer happens to be present, from that moment the Company’s officers become his inferiors, and are bound to obey his commands. Major Carnac therefore hearing of Monro’s arrival, quitted the army, and repaired to Calcutta; and the other went up to Azim-abad, where he was acknowledged Commander-in-Chief of all the forces. It happened that a little time after his arrival, a regiment of Talingas, stationed upon the river Surdj8 alias Gahgrah, to oppose the enemy’s passage, had taken up their arms, and had revolted. It is said they had even laid hold of their Commander, Captain Ahmuty, and of some other English, as well as of a piece of cannon, and had crossed the river, with intention to march to Ghazip8r, and to take service with Radja Balvant-sing, who was likewise stationed on that river to defend the province of Gorockp8r, and to hinder the English troops from spreading themselves on that side. The Captain obliged to submit to the will of his Talingas, made it a point to humour them; but took care to send advice of that event to Major Monro. That Commander, on the very first moment of the intelligence, dispatched a Captain and some other officers, versed in the Hindostany language, to bring back the runaways by fair means and persuasion; but at the same time he marched himself at the head of a regiment of European soldiers, with whom he advanced so fast, that by the time the Captain and his associates were reasoning them out of their revolt, and making them some concessions, which at any other time would have been improper, that Commander was already up with the deserters. As the victorious fortune of the English accompanied them everywhere, and the Talingas were doomed to a reverse of fortune, and to chastisement, those men who had already cut so much of their way, and were near their intended spot, stopped at once, to take some rest, and yielded to their officer’s intreaties and persuasion. The Major appearing at this moment, the Talingas saluted him according to the rules of their discipline, and then according to custom, laid down their arms. As soon as these were on the ground, the Major ordered them to be taken up in bundles; and then surrounding the Talingas with his European soldiers, he marched the whole corps of the mutineers back to his camp, where he broke the revolted regiment, distributing its men by ten and twenty in the several companies of the other corps; after which he draughted from the whole of these corps as many men as formed a new regiment, and having put it under the command of Captain Ahmuty, he commanded him to his late station. This done, he ordered twenty-five men from amongst the revolted, that is, as many as had been pointed out by the cast of dice, to be blown up at his guns, for an example to others. But one of those twenty-five men, being a Brahman, made it a request to be indulged with some moments of delay to perform his devotions; and having obtained it, he prayed to the Sun and to some other objects of his worship, took a little clay from the ground, whereon he had worshipped, and having rubbed his forehead and whole face with it, he marched up to the gun with the greatest intrepidity, and submitted quietly to be blown up.
Whilst that Commander was occupied in bringing his army to order, a total revolution had taken place in the minds of the Council of Calcutta. So long as a negotiation was kept on foot by Shudjah-ed-döulah upon reasonable terms, some of the leading members of the Council shewed themselves disinclined from waging war with that Prince; but some letters coming from him at this moment, which seemed written with a haughtiness, that could not be borne, and contained proposals of the most extravagant kind, the dissenters closed with the majority of the Council; and all joining together, sent orders to Major Monro to attack and fight the Vezir. The Major on receiving the orders, tarried only a few days to provide carriage-oxen, with a sufficient quantity of victuals; and having reviewed his army, and left his sick behind, he marched to Bacsar, will full intention to give the Vezir battle. It was about the middle of the second A. D. 1764 Rebi, of the year one thousand one hundred and seventy-eight of the Prophet’s retreat, (on whom be grace and salute for ever!) About the end of that month he made another review, and having made up a list of those he wanted to carry with him, which he compared with the numbers that followed his army, and the several animals necessary to it, he contented himself with just such a quantity of provisions and carriages, as would suffice him for ten days, and he dismissed the rest. At his departure he was heard to say these very words to some of the gentlemen of the factory of Azim-abad: I do not choose to encumber myself with more; for either within that space of time we shall have beaten and expelled the enmy, and then we shall find victuals enough; or we shall be beaten ourselves, and in part destroyed, and then again we shall have no occasion for more provisions or baggage.
The Major being now on his march, and his resolution being known and public, Mir-veli-ollah, a man born in Azim-abad, but who now commanded for Shudja-ed-döulah in those parts of Bahar, dependent from the Sercar of Shah-abad, dispatched messengers to his master to inform him of the motions of the English. On this intelligence the Vezir sent some Moghul cavalry to skirmish with them, and to impede their march. And as he had heretofore left some large cannon on the banks of the Sohon to oppose the enemy, whilst the latter were encamped over against that river at Calver, he ordered it to be brought back to his camp. It was now the heighth of the rainy season, and the wheels of those unwieldy carriages having sunk in the mud, it became impossible to get them from thence by any means whatever. The Vezir hearing of this, put himself at the head of one thousand Durrani-horse,\(297\) and going to the spot, he disengaged the guns and brought them to camp; but after this exertion, he sunk again into a circle of entertainments, pleasures, and amusements, without once bestowing a thought upon the necessary quantity of balls, or their quality, or that of the powder; and without consulting any one experienced man about the method of fighting the enemy, he even declined listening to the request of those officers of the artillery, who wanted necessaries for their office. Upon all those subjects he was quite careless and inattentive; spending his time in playing at dice, in observing the flights of his pigeons, looking at the performances of his dance-women, and amusing himself with pastimes of all sorts; and all that, with as much ease and thoughtlessness, as if he had been about his own capital on a party of hunting. He only ordered a wall or intrenchment to be drawn from the little river of Durgáoty to the bank of the Ganga, intending to fight the English from behind that cover. But on the Major’s coming up, and encamping at about three cosses distance from him on a morass that lay betwixt the two armies, he altered his resolution; and abandoning the thoughts of fighting from behind the intrenchment, he resolved to give them battle on the other side of it.
The Moghul horse, together with six or seven thousand men of cavalry and infantry, commanded by Shudjah-c8li-qhan, commonly called Mia-yssa, ranged themselves behind Somro and M8sher-medec. Beni-bahadyr, Deputy Governor of A8d and Ilah-abad, brought his troops out of the intrenchment, and took post on the banks of the Ganga, that is, close to the ruined houses of the town of Bacsar. At his elbow were Somro and M8sher-medec, with eight field-pieces, mounted in the English fashion upon carriages, equally strong and light. They were at the head of eight regiments of Talingas that had been trained and fashioned by Mir-cassem. It was behind these, that Mia-yssa took his post. The Vezir himself coming out of the intrenchment, with a body of troops, ranged them at the right of Mia-yssa and of Beni-bahadyr’s; and the engagement commenced by a cannonade on both sides, which killed and wounded numbers of people from both parties. The Vezir tired with such a slaughter, took his Moghul cavalry and some other choice troops, and charged the English several times; whilst part of his Durrani-Moghuls attacking Major Monro’s cavalry, put it to flight, and falling upon the English camp in the rear, killed and plundered without measure. So that the main of the English line, repeatedly attacked by the Vezir’s cavalry, and exposed to Somro’s and Medec’s incessant fire, fell into disorder, and was in great danger. At this very time the Major observing that the troops posted at the morass, were by that very reason out of the reach of the enemy’s efforts, marched part of them down to attack Beni-bahadyr. These troops were led by officers equally skilful and brave, who marching with a measured pace inclined towards the banks of the Ganga, and arrived close to those ruined houses behind which Beni-bahadyr had posted himself at the head of his troops, and also of another body of cavalry, called the Sheh-zadians\(298\) of Lucknow, who were commanded by Sheh-gh8lam-cadyr. These had all dismounted from their horses, and were standing behind those ruins with their match-locks in their hands. The English Talingas advancing undiscovered along the main street of the deserted town, were concealed by the ruins; and coming unexpectedly upon Beni-bahadyr’s men, posted at the bottom of those ruined walls, they poured upon them a shower of clods and stones. On this Sheh-gh8lam-cadyr got up with his Sheh-zadians from betwixt the ruins, to oppose the English Talingas; and these being now all assembled by their officers, and ranged in a line, a fire of musquetry ensued between the two troops. But how could the Sheh-zadians and Beni-bahadyr’s people, accustomed to fire dispersed, and at will, stand the regular and violent fire poured upon them by the English Talingas? In one or two discharges, the business of Sheh-gh8lam-cadyr’s and of his men was effectually done. Numbers were made to bite the dust on the spot; and the others being wounded and dispersed, fled in the greatest consternation, and left their post empty. At sight of this Beni-bahadyr, who had close to him a friend of his, named Ghalub-qhan, an Hindostany of valuable character and of much personal prowess, asked him what he thought was to be done? If you choose to acquire honour only, answered the other, we must lay down our lives here; and if you love only your life, we must get from hence directly. Beni-bahadyr having answered, that he wanted honour only, the other replied, let us dismount then; and immediately alighting himself, he also ordered his son, Vedge-eddin-qhan to alight likewise. By this time the English Talingas drawing near, were getting ready to pour a volley. At sight of this Beni-bahadyr, having preferred life to honour, turned about and fled with all his might. The young man on seeing this, went to acquaint his father, who on observing the flight of Beni-bahadyr’s and of all that great body of troops, mounted again, and ran after his master.
Whilst Beni-bahadyr was flying, his friends thought he had gained an advantage. Mia-yssa who mistook the volleys of musquetry between the English Talingas and the Sheh-zadians of Sheh-gh8lam-cadyr’s, for a severe engagement, misapprehended Beni-bahadyr’s retreat for a second attack; and being jealous of a success which might reflect a dishonour upon his own inaction, he quitted his post from behind Somro and M8shur-medec, and ran forward He had before a morass full of mire and water, which rendered his passage the more difficult and dangerous, as the morass was lined in front by a body of English infantry, that looked very much like a wall vomiting fire and flames. Hence of six or seven thousand men that were under his command, only a small number chose to follow him; and these by thus passing before Somro and M8sher-medec, who made a continual fire of musquetry and cannon against the English line, put an end to that hail of balls that incommoded so much the enemy; and by thus obstructing the fire made by friends, he by his position between the two lines, became exposed to a hot and expeditious fire, which the English incessantly poured upon him, and which proved as destructive as that at Beni-bahadyr’s double dealing reprimanded by Shytab-ráy. the Day of Judgment. Nevertheless after having passed through that shower of balls, he with infinite trouble, but with a small number of men, emerged at last out of the mire and water; and it was only to see himself and his people aimed at like so many marks. So that he fell fruitlessly and ingloriously, and his indignant soul took its flight towards eternity. Those of his men that could effect their escape from that scene of slaughter and wounds, overthrew in their flight such troops as yet stood their ground, and by their example carried them away. By this time the English Talingas after having put Beni-bahadyr to flight, had got over the intrenchment; and breaking immediately into the Vezir’s camp with repeated discharges of musquetry, they threw the whole into so much consternation, that not a man in that immense multitude found courage enough to tarry awhile, and to load up, and carry away his baggage or property. They all fled, every one providing for himself, as his mind prompted; for by this time, the whole army had been defeated so completely, that no one thought of standing his ground. But no sooner was this general discomfiture observed by the ungrateful Moghuls and Durranies, than quitting the Vezir’s person, they turned about upon their own troops and friends, and commenced plundering and stripping at such a rate, that a by-stander would have taken them for so many enemies. The Vezir was yet in camp; and although fully sensible that fate had given the victory to his enemies, he remained a full hour behind, to look at the amazing revolution which was taking place; nor did he quit the field, but when he saw those about his person shrunk to a small number; at which time he followed the run-aways, and left his camp standing. Every thing belonging to him or to his officers, such as tents, furniture, and other property, fell a prey to the victors. Numerous shops of bankers, full of silver and gold coin, and numerous tents of merchants, replete with Kimqhabs\(299\) and other precious stuffs, were rifled in an instant. The sutlers and markets underwent the same fate. The artillery, great and small, was taken possession of. So that the English troops with all their followers made an immense booty. But whilst these strangers were busy in enriching themselves at the enemy’s expense, the Vezir’s troops were busy in plundering each other, and that too with so much earnestness, that whatever fell in any one’s hand, was reputed fair prize. God only knows the wealth which must have existed in that army; and I acknowledge that it would be vain in me to attempt giving so much as an idea of it. But I can say with certainty, however, that there were immense riches in that camp; and such indeed as might have vied with the very capital of Hindostan in that regard, when the latter was the repository of all the wealth of India. Whilst this scene of sack and plunder was going on one side, vast numbers of people on the other were endeavouring to cross the Durgáoty, a little deep muddy river, that flowed behind the camp; but they stuck in vast numbers in the mire and mud, or lost their lives by the volleys which the Talingas were endlessly pouring on the flying enemy.
By an event singular enough, it happened that the very day before the engagement, Shudjah-ed-döulah had thought proper to set Mir-cassem at liberty, although he gave him no better carriage than an elephant which proved lame. By another even, full as singular, and one of those which cannot be accounted for but by admitting the interference of a particular Providence, that very animal enabled the prisoner to get out of that scene of confusion and slaughter, and to save his life from more than one sort of imminent danger. Doubtless he was predestinated to a longer life; else, in that scene of terror and consternation, which parted the son from the father, and the brother from the brother, who would have thought of an unfortunate being, kept this longwhile in confinement, and deprived of all intercourse with mankind? Let us adore the secret workings of that watchful Providence, Providential escape of Mir-cassem’s. which on the very eve of such a scene of danger and confusion, put it into an enemy’s heart to provide a carriage for his prisoner.
| “Even an enemy will prove serviceable to thee, if it pleases God.” |
This release had been announced to Aaly-hibrahim-qhan in the evening; and at midnight he had sent secretly to inform him that he had ready at his service a bag of a thousand rupees, and an excellent horse, which would carry him anywhere he pleased; adding, that if he made but a sign of the head, both would be sent him immediately. The messenger professed that the only reason why this had not been done already, was out of fear least the Vezir coming to hear of it, should become again as severe as ever. Such a tender in such a conjuncture could not but prove highly acceptable to Mir-cassem’s afflicted mind. He bestowed on the Qhan all the encomiums he deserved for having remembered of past obligations, and proved grateful at so critical a moment of total dereliction; but he answered, that at present he did not think it proper to accept of his offer, as they had promised to bring him a carriage. But that if they should fail, then he would by all means avail himself of his generous offer. And really a little before day-break, they brought him a female elephant that limped; and it was upon such a carriage that Mir-cassem made his escape with the runaways, and saved his life.
A few days before the engagement, Aaly-hibrahim-qhan had had the precaution to send his heavy baggage under the charge of his brother, Aaly-cassem-qhan, to the Emperor’s encampment, which was on the other side of the Durgáoty, the little river that parted it from the Vezir’s camp, and upon which they had formed with some boats a bridge of communication. By such a precaution he had remained quite light and disincumbered. So that in the general deroute, he advanced expeditiously to the bridge; but finding it so thronged, and the runaways pouring in immense shoals, so as to bar all passage, he became extremely uneasy. Moreover the bridge had broke down; the danger increased fast; and the English Talingas were preparing to fire. No time was to be lost. He put spurs to his horse, ran a little higher up the banks of the river, and throwing himself in the water with his horse, he swam over to the opposite side. Being arrived on the other side, where a number of people had stopped awhile both to take some refreshment, and to wait for such of their friends as were yet on the other side of the water, he observed a body of English advancing with a field-piece, loaded with small ball called Churras, which they fired; whilst a body of their Talingas were making discharges of musketry. The cannon swept both sides of the river; nor is it possible to describe the terror and confusion that seized the runaways. They poured upon each other’s shoulders in the miry shores of that very muddy river, and sticking in the mud, they perished in shoals.\(300\) Others having found means with infinite trouble to get over, fled in the most dismal condition, every one taking to what road chanced to be before him. Most of these were set upon by the peasants who stripped them to the skin. Others having found means to join the runaways, that had preceded, returned graces to Heaven, as if they had returned from the very gates of death. The Vezir having passed the river, and got all his family together, took the road which leads to Ilah-abad; but Mir-cassem upon his limping carriage, made a shift to get as far as six or seven cosses beyond Banaress. As to Beni-bahadyr, he tarried upon the banks of the Ganga, by the Vezir’s order, with intention to bring away the Emperor, who was encamped over against that city; and Aaly-hibrahim-qhan, sick, as he was, found means, with no more than a dozen of followers, to advance close to Beni-bahadyr’s encampment, where he intended to take some rest, and to inquire after his brother, with whom he wished to encamp. A servant of Ghalub-qhan having descried that nobleman by chance, went and gave notice of it to his master, who was a great friend of his, and then in Beni-bahadyr’s retinue. Ghalub-qhan no sooner heard the intelligence, than he expressed his satisfaction, and getting up directly, he requested leave of Beni-bahadyr to meet his friend. The Radja on observing Ghalub-qhan’s eagerness, asked him what kind of a man was his friend, that he seemed so eager to see him. The other having answered by a short eulogium of Hibrahim-qhan, added that if ever he commenced an acquaintance with him, he might then get some knowledge of his merit. The Minister who had often been present at that nobleman’s valuable conversation with the Vezir, conceived a desire of attaching him to his own person, and he asked Ghalub-qhan whether he could bring his friend to him? The latter undertook the business, and prevailed upon his friend to wait upon the Minister, just in the undress in which he was. The Radja happy to reckon so valuable a man amongst his friends, requested his friendship, proffered his own, and desired to reckon himself henceforward amongst those of his family. This proposal could not but please Hibrahim-qhan, who thought that in a time of so much confusion, the very tarrying some days with that Minister, would prove of some advantage to himself. After this acquisition, the Radja received orders from the Vezir to bring up the Emperor, and he was urging the propriety of marching forward. But that Prince, who in his heart was dissatisfied with the Vezir, and had resolved to part with Beni-bahadyr, thought proper to temporise under a variety of pretences, having sometime before conceived the design of joining the English. For that nation had already made overtures, on that subject, and rendered him desirous of joining them, as well as intent on availing himself of their assistance; and on the other hand, they expected that the Vezir, informed of their being forbidden by the Company to make any new conquests in India, would of himself come to terms of peace and friendship with them. They had therefore thoughts of meeting Beni-bahadyr, whom they knew to be the Vezir’s confidant, and Mir-cassem’s enemy. But as Beni-bahadyr had then discovered the Emperor’s defection, and his backwardness from marching farther, he continued his own journey with his own troops, and crossed the Ganga.
As soon as the Minister was seen on the other side of that river, the Emperor, who was thereby left at liberty, sent for the English; who finding so fair a pretence for advancing their own affairs, doubled their pace, and joined him in a few hours. They paid their respects to him, crossed the Ganga with him, and from thence invited Beni-bahadyr to a conference. The Minister who wanted to attach Aaly-hibrahim-qhan to his person, and who had a high opinion of his genius, applied to him for advice; and having perpended his counsel, he from that time admitted him to all his secrets, and associated him to the negotiation; for he became at last convinced that his meeting the English would redound to his master’s advantage; and with that view he proceeded to their camp. The English shewed a willingness to come to terms with the Vezir, if he would but deliver in their hands Mir-cassem, and Somro. The Minister who was upon bad terms with the fugitive Prince, and saw his own advantage and that of his country and master in this proposal, answered in a respectful manner, “That Somro being master of a good body of troops, and such as had not broke their ranks in the last defeat, but had retreated in good order, the seizing that man’s person would not be free from danger. But that Mir-cassem might be arrested; and if the Vezir should approve of it, his own endeavours would not be wanting in that business.” The conference ended here; and Beni-bahadyr having heard the proposals of the English, took his leave, and returned to his own camp, where he disclosed the whole negotiation to his confidants, amongst whom was Aaly-hibrahim-qhan. The latter thought it incumbent upon his gratitude and upon those ancient ties of friendship, that bound him to Mir-cassem, to send him immediate notice of the matter in agitation; and this fugitive, who was encamped only at a few cosses distance, no sooner heard the intelligence, than he fled to Ilah-abad, with a swiftness and a rapidity that could be compared to nothing but the wind or to the lightning; and having there managed in such a manner as to get possession of his family and women, which had been plundered by the Vezir’s people, and confined in that castle, he marched on without stopping as far as Bérheily, which is the principal city of that colony of Afghans, who call themselves Rohillas; and there only he commenced to take some test. There likewise we shall leave him, until we come to close his history; and this shall take place when we come to give an account of the revolutions that have happened at the capital of the Empire.
But by this time the defeat of Bacsar had made a total revolution in Shadjah-ed-döula’s mind. That presumptuous man, who had never had an idea of such a reverse of fortune, finding now so total an alteration in his affairs, concluded that he had no other resource left, but that of abandoning his own dominions, and flying for shelter to a stranger’s country. He therefore sent some of his relations to Fáiz-abad\(301\) and to Lucknow, with orders to take away his family and treasures, and to carry them into the country of a Rohilla Prince, called Haafyz-rahmet, with whom he had some connections; as Ynaïet-qhan, the latter’s son, had become his companion of arms in his campaign about Azim-abad. His orders were to keep them in Bérheily, which is the greatest city of those parts, as being a place which surpassed Pylybeet and all the other towns of that country both in the salubrity of its air, and the goodness of its water. Meanwhile he repaired in all speed to Ila-abad, and having taken from thence his mother and consort, he left Aaly-beg-qhan in the citadel, and proceeded to the country of the Afghans, where leaving his family, furniture, and the whole of his effects and treasures in Bérheily, he sent Sidy-bashir, a trusty Habeshinian of his, to command in the fortress of Chennar, with a proper garrison, and every necessary requisite for the defence of that place. Beni-bahadyr arrived at this time; but his advice for making peace with the English, was rejected by the Vezir, who thought it derogatory to his dignity, and dishonourable to his name, family, and pedigree; and on the other hand, he reckoned upon powerful succours both from the Afghan Princes, and from the Marhatta General, Malhar-ráo. He therefore dispatched Beni-bahadyr to Lucknow, with secret instructions to keep fair with the English, and under this mask, to maintain his government in that province; whilst himself should proceed with all speed to the country of Ahmed-qhan-bangash, notwithstanding the cordial aversion he had for that Prince. Nor was this aversion of a modern date, as we already touched on the causes and progresses of sentiments in that part of our history which relates to Shah-djehan-abad, and to the neighbouring provinces. On his arrival there he had a meeting with Haafyz-rahmet, with Ahmed-bangash, and with some other Afghan Princes, as well as with the famous Mir-sheabeddin-qhan, better known under the title of Umad-el-mulk, who chanced to be there likewise. The Vezir threw amongst them the dice of consultation, and requested both advice and assistance. Every one of them promised succours, but nevertheless all advised him to call to his service the Mahratta Malhar-ráo, who was a Prince of Decan, and an old General, who had once commanded-in-chief in Badji-ráo’s army. This General was then Mucasdar or feudatory Prince\(302\) of the province of Shah-djehan-abad, and went simply by the title of the Soobada?? or Viceroy. He lived retired in the country about Calpy and Goalyar; but as he had once lost all his baggage and fortune in that bloody defeat, which Ahmed-shah, the Abdalli-monarch, had given the Marhatta nation, he did not cut any great figure. Shudjah-ed-döulah sent some of his trusty servants in that country, who prevailed upon that General to come over with his troops to their master’s assistance, in whose name they promised a great sum of money, in case victory should favour his party. The man, who since the loss he had suffered, had become exceedingly covetous, greedily accepted the proposal, and soon came over with his troops to Shudjah-ed-döulah’s camp. As to the Afghans, all the instances made to engage them to come to that Prince’s assistance, in compliance with their own promises, proved useless; and they went on with a multitude of pretences, and far fetched excuses, put him off with procrastination, and with promises of to-day and to-morrow, and at last did not move a foot.
Meanwhile Beni-bahadyr, who was now arrived at Lucknow, gave notice of his master’s intentions. “Shudjah-ed-döulah,” said he, “cannot be brought to consent to a peace with the English on the conditions tendered by them. He is resolved to try another battle. As to Mir-cassem, he has escaped from his hands; nor is Somro to be laid hold of, unless by some artifice; but at any rate, my master thinks that at such a time as this measures of such a nature are very improper for him. With respect to me in particular, as I augur nothing good from his affairs, I am desirous and willing to meet the English half way, and to join their cause.” Now it must be observed, that although Shytab-ráy was unquestionably a very trusty servant of that nation, he was also much attached to Beni-bahadyr, in whose house he had found so honourable an asylum, with so many favours and so many benefits, when he fled some years before from Mir-cassem’s Singular speech of Ahmed-qhan-bangash’s to Shudjah-ed-döulah. resentment. He therefore wished to shew the high sense he retained of so many benefits; and thought himself happy in having an opportunity of serving his benefactor. This negotiation was just set on foot, when Major Monro, after defeating the Vezir, and pursuing him as far as Banares, thought proper, for reasons of his own, to go back to Calcutta, and to leave the command to Major Fooleecher (Robert Fletcher); and this too having been found fault with, and been dismissed from the command of the army, it devolved of course on Major Carnac, an officer who had once been in the Company’s service, and had commanded an army; but had lately been promoted to the rank of supreme Commander, which in their language is called a Brigadier-General. As this officer had a deal of friendship for Shytab-ráy, the latter embraced the opportunity of imparting to him the proposals made by Beni-bahadyr; and this General who esteemed the Minister’s arrival a great advance towards a peace, availed himself of the envoy’s presence, to invite the master, expressing his desire at the same time in a polite letter fraught with expressions of high regard. Upon such an invitation, Beni-bahadyr came, and met the General; but his intention was only to keep fair with both parties. The General proposed to that Minister to bring over his whole family to Lucknow, and in particular to send his consort to Banares or Azim-abad, in which case he would be satisfied with his sincerity, and would leave the whole business and all the contributions of the two provinces of A8d and Ilah-abad to his own management. But as this proposal did not suit Beni-bahadyr, he declined it upon a variety of plausible pretences, and he kept the matter in suspense; until hearing that Shudajh-ed-döulah had taken Malhar-ráo in his service, and was preparing to fight the English, he went to a Fakyr for whom he had a high regard, and asked him what resolution he advised him to take. The Fakyr answered, “That the coming of the English was like a squall, which had brought on much blowing indeed, but which would soon be over and gone.” This answer to which the Minister paid an implicit belief, having made him conceive that victory might yet declare for his master, he resolved to continue firm in his attachment to him.
But the intelligence that had so much rejoiced Beni-bahadyr’s heart, had raised alarms in the mind of Shytab-ráy, who was his mediator with the English, and who no sooner heard of the junction of Malhar-ráo’s with Shudjah-ed-döulah, than he wrote to Beni-bahadyr, in strong terms: “If you intend to remain with Shudjah-ed-döulah, said he, speak out and act openly, that I may get you dismissed by the English, after having informed them of your inclination. But if you think it better to attach yourself to us, let me recommend to you much firmness and steadiness in your conduct. For after all, why should we proceed in a negotiation that may bring a reflection upon me, and a reproach of faithlessness upon you? Or why should you bring me into an imminent danger, and expose your own character to endless shame and reproaches?” This remonstrance produced no effect; and Beni-bahadyr, who thought it prudent to conceal his mind, kept his secret even from Shytab-ráy, and left the rest to opportunity and time. But meanwhile, under pretence of putting in order some districts farthest from the English army, he got himself accompanied by some companies of their Talingas; and having proceeded with these as far as Lucknow, he carried from thence his consort and family, and took to the road that led to Shudjah-ed-döulah’s camp; his intention being to effect a junction with him at any rate. The English Talingas wanted to prevent his flight; but as they were in so small a number, they were intimidated by Beni-bahadyr’s numerous troops and threats, and let him escape.
All these motions could not be known to Aaly-hibrahim-qhan, who having fallen sick, had been left by Beni-bahadyr in the castle of Partab-gur; where having been kept in the dark as to that Minister’s real intentions, he was much nettled when he heard of his final departure, as such an event bereft him of all support, and left him to himself. Luckily that the consort of the Radja of that country, in her husband’s absence who had been persuaded by Beni-bahadyr to attend Shudjah-ed-döulah, thought proper to use the Qhan with a deal of kindness, and did every thing in her power to accommodate him with lodgings and with many conveniencies, which the country did not afford. By her means the Qhan procured every necessary for his voyage, and departed for Ilah-abad.
The intelligence of Beni-bahadyr’s escape shocked the English, and surprised the General; who nevertheless had so much regard for the sincere attachment which Shytab-ráy had for him, that he forbore saying any thing of the matter; but this did not satisfy Shytab-ráy, who anxious for his own character, thought proper on the first news of Beni-bahadyr’s defection, to wait upon the General and to supplicate him in these terms. “Sir, I was Beni-bahadyr’s security for the performance of his agreement; and now he has acted in such a manner, as confounds all the world. Should you be called to an account for this affair by the Council of Calcutta, please to send me thither, as I am the only culprit to this affair, and not you.” This short address had its effect. The General and the other English Commanders sensible of Shytab-ráy’s fidelity, and pleased with the sincerity and frankness of his behaviour, did everything in their power to make him easy. Nothing was thought of now, but war; and Shudjah-ed-döulah having on his side effected a junction with the Marhatta Malhar-ráo, was preparing The English disappointed in their negotiaton, think only of pushing the war. to fight the English. These had made an acquisition some time before this. It was that of the Radja Balvent, Zemindar of Banares, whom they brought over to their party; and this was effected by Shytab-ráy’s mediation, and by the management of Noor-el-hassen-qhan the Belgramite, a servant of Shudjah-ed-döulah’s, but a friend of Beni-bahadyr’s, and who now was in the office of Sazavul at Banares, that is, of enforcer of payment. And it was by Belvent’s advice that the English resolved to besiege Chennar-gur, a fortress famous for strength and security, as being seated at ten cosses south of that city, upon the top of a rock that commands thither both sides of the Ganga. A number of troops were sent under the command of a Major, who had with him several Captains, with many Lieutenants, ensigns and Sergeants, and some battering\(303\) cannon. The They besiege Chennar-gur. Major having assembled his troops and necessaries, marched to the fortress, and surrounded it. But first of all he produced an Imperial order, in hopes that the garrison would submit on the intimation of the Imperial threats. However, as soon as he saw that these did not make any effect, he brought his cannon forward, battered the walls, and pushed the siege with vigour. The Governor of the place, Mahmed-beshir-qhan, a principal Lord of the Vezir’s Court, was in his heart ill affected and wavering. Nevertheless the garrison, which had resolved to stand a siege, stretched out the feet of firmness, and attached themselves to the defence of the place. But as their Governor seemed dissatisfied, they contrived to get him out of the walls in the manner he wished, and to have him conducted to the road that led to Shudjah-ed-döulah’s camp; after this, they made a brave defence; but yet there remained but a few days respite to the fortress. For part of the wall having been ruined and beaten down by the violence of the cannon, the English in a dark night, prepared a number of proper troops, and gave an assault to the place. They climbed the rock, and were encouraging each The English repulsed at an assault. other to descend into the fort by the ruins, and the scattered loose stones of the breach; when they were overheard by some of the garrison, who being put upon their guard, waked their companions so expeditiously, that the garrison was up in a moment, and ready at the breach; from whence they made such continual discharges of musketry, as disabled most of the assaulters. The latter being confounded both by the darkness of the night, and by the slipperiness of the loose stones, fell down in shoals; and rolling from the top of the breach quite down the brow of the rock, they carried along a number of others that had yet a firm footing; and these too rolling down in heaps amidst a quantity of loose stones and rubbish, numbers of men were wounded and maimed, in this attempt. The Major himself was in that condition. He was wounded by a ball, and had fallen speechless and senseless. His men being discouraged, fell back, and retreated; nor was it but after somewhile, that they thought of their Commander, who was then sought out, and found under a stone. With much precaution and silence they brought him down from thence; but he was already senseless; and in a little time, he departed this fragile world. The General hearing of Raise the siege and march on the enemy. this miscarriage, thought proper to recall his troops, as he had certain intelligence, that Shudjah-ed-döulah was advancing; and after having effected his junction with them, he marched on in quest of the enemy.
It was at this time that Mirza-nedjef-qhan, whom we have mentioned already as a man dissatisfied, just arrived from the Bundel-cand, and took party with the English, whom he joined with his Moghuls. And it was at this time also that the English Commanders sent some troops under Major Ustubert (Stibbert), to Lucnow, with orders to take possession of that city, and to gain a knowledge of the province of A8d, as well as of the adjacent parts. This officer appointed Mahmed-acber qhan to the Cutvaaly of that city, on the recommendation of Shytab-ráy. After this arrangement, the General, with his whole army marched to Ilah-abad, with Shytab-ráy and Nedjef-qhan, resolved to besiege its citadel. Nedjef-qhan, who knew the strong and weak parts of the fortress, as having long resided in it, pointed to a part where the wall had no rampart behind; and this being soon brought down by the battering cannon, which had been seized in plundering the Vezir’s camp, Aaly-beg-qhan, the Governor, soon found that he had but little time left; and he offered to surrender on Shytab-ráy’s promising that the honour and properties of the garrison should remain untouched, excepting only whatever should prove to belong to the Vezir himself. And he assured the besieged, that they would come to no harm, whether they attached themselves to the English, or not. These conditions The fortress of Ila-abad surrenders to the English. having been agreed to, he brought them out of the citadel; and the place was immediately taken possession of by the English. Aaly-beg-qhan, with his garrison, and other servants of Shudjah-ed-döulah’s, received a safe conduct, with which he repaired to his master.
After this conquest, Radja Shytab-ráy was proposed to
regulate the contributions and government of the two provinces,
with Radja Belvent’s assistance, especially of that of A8d.
And as it was necessary to send rulers in the most distant districts,
or even in all, it became expedient to support them by
taking in the English service most of the Commanders that had
once served in Mir-cassem’s troops; for instance, Mir-roshen-aaly-qhan,
Sheh-ferhat-aaly with his body of troops, and Sheh-savar-beg,
the same that had slayed Mr. Amyatt; and these
were stationed everywhere for the management of the whole
country. After these reglements had taken place, the General
hearing of the Vezir’s approach, advanced with Shytab-ráy and
Mirza-nedjef-qhan to give him battle; for he had already eased
his mind by stationing rulers and tax-gatherers in the most convenient
places, where they were properly supported by the new
raised troops: a business in which he was ably assisted by
Shytab-ráy, a man who had not his equal in the art of settling and
regulating the new provinces; indeed he rendered eminent
The whole
of Shudjah-ed-döulah’s
dominions
submit to the
English.
services in undermining a dominion that had been established
almost these fifty years, and in oversetting a sovereignty, that had
become hereditary in Shudjah-ed-döulah’s family, so earely as the
times of Burhan-el-mulk-saadet-qhan, his maternal grandfather.
But every part of the new conquests was not thoroughly pacified;
for to keep down some ungrateful servants, and to carry a tight
hand over some restless Zemindars, and especially over Radja
Belvent-sing, proved a business of much labour and difficulty.
We have left the Vezir occupied in effecting a junction with Malhar-ráo, the famous Marhatta General. As soon as he had Shudjah-ed-döulah joined by Malhar-ráo, marches against the English. eased his mind on that head, he advanced to attack the English, although the Afghans who had promised assistance on the Marhatta’s effecting his junction, contented themselves with spreading a report of their marching; but did not advance one step. He was only joined by Umad-el-mulk, who came to camp with a small number of men, but who in fact proved only a mere spectator; for he was a man equally incapable of thinking of a scheme, or of doing any execution. But he was not alone in that case. Not one man in that army had a head to plan, or a hand to execute, any thing; nor did any one think of wiping from one another’s face that air of consternation, which their defeat had stamped thereon. For as soon as the two armies came to an action in the plains of Corra, and they had some skirmishes together, the Marhatta Malhar-ráo who had never been exposed to the fire and violence of cannon, was at once confounded, and appalled by such a storm of fire; and after having galloped up and down, like one desirous to do something, he put spurs to his horse, and continued his gallop without once turning about to look behind; he galloped on until he found himself in the country of Goaliar which was the centre of his government. As for And is worsted after a few slight skirmishes. Shudjah-ed-döulah himself, he became now fully sensible of the faithlessness of his people, and of the general discouragement that had spread amongst them; and as he did not spy the face of success in the glass of hope, he retreated from the field of battle. It is observable that whilst the English were moving from Ilah-abad in order to attack the Vezir’s army, they had been surrounded by bodies of Marhatta cavalry, who faithful to their own wonted custom, encircled them at one time, and gave them some inquietude, by scouring and plundering the whole country round them. At another time they had very nearly seized Shytab-ráy, who with a handful of men, chanced to be hemmed in by them; he was very near being killed. But the man, without being dismayed by the extreme inferiority of his numbers, encouraged bravely his people, and having brandished his spear in the field of braves, he maintained his honour, until he was rescued from imminent danger by some English troops that hastened to his assistance. The truth is, that this man was endowed with many valuable qualities; and it may be said, that at this particular period of time, he seemed superior in merit to all the eminent men of Hindostan. But we hope soon, if it pleases God, to give an account of most of his good qualities; and this shall be, when we come to give a detail of his way of life, of his system of government in the province of Azim-abad, and of his style of command.
As to Aaly-hibrahim-qhan, who at the desire of Beni-bahadyr’s had left Ilah-abad in order to join him in the Vezir’s army; that nobleman no sooner heard of this second defeat, than he came back, and remained secretly in that city for a length of time; until the Vezir had made his peace with the English, and the troubles of the country had subsided; then only that worthy good man, that pattern of fidelity and righteousness, thought proper to quit that corner of silence and obscurity, in order to repair to M8rsh8d-abad But we shall in time make further mention of him, if it pleases God, whenever we come to speak of Mahmed-reza-qhan; for at present our business is with Shudjah-ed-döulah.
That Prince after his second defeat, repaired to Feroh-abad, where he complained bitterly of the defection and general inattention of the Afghan nation. On this accusation, every one of their rulers brought forth some excuse, and covered himself with some pretence. Every one had a word for himself; but as it was not from the heart, it made no impression upon the Vezir. However Ahmed-qhan-bangash, son to the famous Mohammed-qhan-ghazem-fer-djung, acted with more sincerity and candour. It is true he hated heartily Shudjah-ed-döulah, but he was too noble-minded to conceal his opinion, and had too much frankness to keep a veil upon the real state of things. “You,” said he, “that expect to obtain victory with the assistance of these Afghans, and some other strangers, are much mistaken in your reckoning. I give you notice that not one of them will prove of any use to you; nor will that expectation of yours produce any thing, but a further opportunity of spending amongst your enemies, as well as amongst your own troops, some handfuls more of that little money that may remain to you from your former treasures. For rest assured that after all, you shall remain still in the state in which you are to-day; nor will these very by-standers, that now hear us, answer any purpose at all, but that of standing mere spectators of victory, and of making it a subject of mirth and sport amongst themselves. As to my own part, I have nothing at your service, but my advice; and it is this: either come direcly to a new battle, or submit to a peace. Content yourself then with the troops on whose attachment you can depend; and without waiting vainly for any one’s assistance, do rush impetuously upon your enemy, and lay your account with obtaining the victory, or perishing in the attempt; and then, if you survive that action, you shall be found to have been playing at dice with your own honour and life; or else, if you find such a business difficult, and your heart bids nothing for it, then without any one’s mediation, get up, and go alone, and only with your person, to the English camp. Nor do think ill of such a step. From what I see and hear of those strangers, they seem always to act according to the dictates of generosity and sound sense; nor is it probable that they shall throw the dice of treachery with you, or bring you into any disgrace or danger; on the contrary, I shall be egregiously mistaken, if out of regard to your name, and out of respect to the renown of your family, they shall not set open the door of friendship, and shew you so much regard and consideration, as shall not fail to satisfy you intirely.”
Whilst these events were taking place at Feroh-abad, the King and the English Commanders were making another effort The garrison of Chennar-gur surrenders to the English. upon the minds of to the garrison of Chennar. They remonstrated to them how little they could rely on Shudjah-ed-döulah’s successes or victories, and how improvided they were against a siege; and at last they prevailed upon them to surrender the fortress; when part of them took service with the victors, and part went to Shudjah-ed-döulah, their master. But this new reverse having greatly affected that Prince, who by this time had fully perpended the Rohillah Prince’s advice, he thought it both advantageous, and honourable to take such a step. With a small number of his favourites, he got into his paleky, and took to the road that led to the English army having with him no more than a dozen of horsemen; and he was already at hand, when intelligence was brought to the General, that the Vezir of Hindostan was approaching in that manner. That Commander stood amazed, and at first was at a loss how to distinguish truth from falsehood; but the matter having been ascertained beyond Shudjah-ed-döulah, without any safe conduct, goes almost alone to the English camp, where he is received in a respectful manner. doubt, he sent forward Radjah Shytab-ráy, and himself followed on foot in a respectful manner with all his officers. The Vezir on seeing the General advancing on foot, alighted from his paleky, and embraced him; and he then received the several Nezers, which he as well as all his officers presented. The General continued on foot all this while with them, and in that manner they surrounded the Vezir in his paleky, and conducted him to a tent, that had been provided for the purpose, and where he was desired to alight. There the General saw him partake of an entertainment\(304\) prepared for the occasion; and he continued to treat him with so endearing an attention, that he seemed he had made it a point never to abate any thing either in himself or in his officers from the utmost respect shewn at first; the whole of his behaviour being one continual scene of civility and deference. Shudjah-ed-döulah after having partaken of the entertainment, went to take a nap; and after some rest, he got up perfectly satisfied, and returned to a spot two or three cosses distant, where he had pitched his own tents, and where his retinue, which did not amount to above four hundred men in all, was waiting for him. There he remained three or four days, in which time he made use of Shytab-ráy’s mediation to conclude a peace with the English. And now being satisfied and easy in his mind, he availed himself of the modest looks of the English, to send for his whole retinue, and to keep it about his person; having so far divested himself of all suspicions, as not only to interchange messages and messengers very often with the General, but even to be desirous of his company. Insomuch that it became common to see those two eminent adversaries often in each other’s lodgings, without any ceremony at all. Shytab-ráy, during this intercourse, was advancing in his negotiation, where he was aiming at the mutual satisfaction of both parties. But such was his gratitude for the kindness shewn him by the Vezir, when once he had found it necessary to seek an asylum in his Shudjah-ed-döulah concludes a peace with the English. Minister’s house, that he evidently inclined to Shudjah-ed-döulah’s side; and it was perceived that he was endeavouring to oblige him and to promote his interest to the utmost of his wishes: a conduct which acquired him the esteem and applause of both friends and foes. The negotiation having taken up but a few days, peace was concluded under the following conditions: “That to discharge the expenses of the war, Shudjah-ed-döulah would pay fifty lacks of rupees to the English in the following manner: Twenty-five lacs contant, and twenty-five lacs by assignments upon the future revenues of his country; under condition, however, that any contributions which the English might have already raised in them, should be deemed parts of the assigned sums. That the province of Ilah-abad should be set apart for the sole use of the Emperor; and that the city and fortress of that name should be assigned for his residence It was stipulated likewise that Nedjef-qhan, who had attached himself to the Emperor and to the English, should have a yearly pension of one lac, to be deducted out of the Imperial revenue due by Bengal. That a body of English troops should remain at Ilah-abad to guard the Emperor’s person; and that an Englishman on the part of the English nation, should reside at Shudjah-ed-döulah’s Court, in the quality of Vekil or Agent, and Mian-dji or go-between, but without power to meddle with that Prince’s affairs. That after the conclusion of this treaty, the friends and enemies of one party should be deemed the friends and enemies of the other; and of course, that if an enemy should declare against one party, the other should be bound to give him assistance; but under condition, that whoever of the two contractants called for troops to his assistance from the other party, should pay their charges to their owner. To all these articles was added another; and it was this: That the Radja Belvant-sing, Zemindar of Banares, who by his siding with the Emperor and with the English, had been found fault with by Shudjah-ed-döulah, should be pardoned and forgiven; but under condition of his remaining subject to Shudjah-ed-döulah, although without ceasing to be under the protection of the English.” The above articles having been set to writing by both sides, and ascertained by their signatures and seals, as well as by those of their principal officers, they were confirmed and exchanged; and there remained now to Shudjah-ed-döulah not one reason for staying, save that of paying quickly the money promised.
That article now engrossed all his thoughts; and he proposed to every one of his favourites and servants to assist him with a certain sum of money, according to their respective abilities. In this design he wrote to his mother, to his consort, to the brothers Shudjah-ed-döulah applies to every one of his relations for some money, and is refused by even his own mother. of that consort, and to every one of his relations and friends, requesting their assistance, and informing them that his release from his present engagements depended intirely upon the reception and payment of the stipulated money. This was the message he sent in general; but the letters themselves were couched in such terms, as gave some intimation of the particular sum which he hoped from every one; and in reality, it was no more than what every one of them could spare with a deal of ease. But if this was his expectation, he found himself much mistaken. His very best servants proved much fonder of their money, than of their master’s concerns; and every one listening only to the dictates of avarice, proffered only one-half, or one-third, or one-fourth of what was so reasonably expected; nor were the many letters received on that occasion, penned in any other strain, whether from his mother, from his brother-in-law, or from his slaves: those men that had made their fortunes in his house, and were most indebted to him for their well-being. But this was not the case with his consort. That Princess, not only sent him without hesitation whatever money or jewels, gold or silver furniture were in her possession, but she added to that offering whatever else she could obtain from the ladies of the Seraglio, without sparing the very ring of her nose with its pearls.\(305\) Not that she was not strongly dissuaded by her people from so much self-denial, but she would answer their remonstrances by these very words: “That whatever she was possessed of, was of use to her only so long as Shudjah-ed-döulah was safe; and that if he should cease to be so, all those jewels and all those precious things would also cease to be of use to herself; nor did she wish to use them on any other condition.” It was only a woman that spoke so; but her sentiments would have done honour to any man upon earth. And may so much generosity, and so much gratitude; may so respectful a remembrance of society, of table, and bed be ever rewarded with the blessing of Heaven! Doubtless it is of such noble-minded woman, that the poet thought, when he said:
| “A pious, obedient and dutiful woman, |
| Will make a King of a poor man.” |
Shudjah-ed-döulah after such an experiment of his consort’s attachment, conceived so high an opinion of her fidelity, that he made it a practice to commit to her care whatever money came to his hand in presents, or could be spared from necessary expenses.
| “What man must he be, that should prove inferior to a woman? |
In short, the Vezir after having paid down such a sum as was in his power, ballanced his account with the English Commanders, by pawning in their hands an immense sum in jewels of high value, which were valued apart one by one; a delicate business in which he was much assisted by Shytab-ráy. After this he sent for his consort and family from Hafyz-rahmet’s country; and having given the fortress of Chennar in exchange for that of Ilah-abad, which had been assigned for the Emperor’s residence, and placed with that Prince a person of consequence to execute in his absence the office of Vezir, and another to perform the duty of Mir-ateshy\(306\) (which two offices were hereditary in his family), he departed, and took the shortest road to Faiz-abad, a city that had been finished by himself, but commenced by his maternal ancestor, Saadet-qhan. And although he travelled with expedition, nevertheless he availed himself of his journey throughout that whole tract to put the country under a proper management; and there we shall leave him, until we resume his history by bringing it as far down as the reign of our present Emperor, Shah-aalem; then with God’s blessing, we shall close our narrative of Mir-cassem’s adventures, in the cursory account which we are to give of the Emperors, Sovereigns, and eminent men who have appeared in Hindostan within that period. These matters we reserve for our subsequent volume; and this shall be over and above what we shall have to say of Bengal and Bahar, and of the boundaries which the new conquerors have given to those two provinces. At present our intention is to restrain ourselves to such events only as concern more particularly the English government in those parts; and we shall attempt to give an idea of the revenue, regulations, and of the institutions which they have established themselves; or which having been introduced by the Viceroys or rulers of their own appointing, have since passed into a custom and become a law.
These Fakyrs either go intirely naked, or just cover their privities, and no more, if penitent. There are some others, who live in troops together, and are considerable merchants, marching in droves, and keeping thieves and bandittis at a distance. They wear a turbant, a piece of linen round their loins, and a kind of Dopata or sheet, which occasionally covers the whole body; all that is of a faint brick colour. That they have no women among themselves, is certain; but it is universally reported that they are not scrupulous on another article, infinitely more criminal.
↩Mehabet-djung, or the Majestuous in Battles, was the title which the Viceroy went by.
↩Famous gardens in Arabia Foelix, destroyed by a flood and inundation, a thousand years before Mahomet.
↩From its being the fourth day. The author passes over the principal reason. Such accidents are not new in a country where they make nothing of surrendering delicate girls of eleven to tall stout man of thirty.
↩The tried in battles; the honoured of the State.
↩Maass8m-el-arefin; these words, if they signify any thing at all, may be translated by the expression: the Infant of the knowing ones, or possibly, the pure amongst the knowing ones (those that have knowledge). But it may be said, with great truth, that the surname being a very odd and very whimsical one, is unintelligible to much more able men than the translator.
↩The handsome ones, as their very name import, are Hassen, and Hossëin, born to Aaly by Fatemah, the Prophet’s daughter.
↩This expression as well as that which follows, is a literal translation.
↩The Chopdars and Sonta-berdars, i.e., Staff-bearers, and Bludgeon-bearers, were in times of yore a military guard, now become purely civil. They are servants of the better sort, doing duty in the apartments of a palace, or serving as messengers. The former are distinguished by a staff, four or five feet high, upon two or three inches in diameter. The Sonta-berdar’s cudgel is half that length, upon the same diameter, but a little bent at the top. Both are plaited in silver and gilt. A message sent by a Chopdar implies equality, and does honour; sent by a Sonta-berdar, it implies compulsion, and may be occasionally enforced; which is what a Chopdar neither can nor will do. A Yessaol is a Chopdar, armed. These last are mostly Moghuls, and foreigners.
↩A flying, or a Bird.
↩This language, although different from the modern Persian, has an affinity with the old, and is of the same genus.
↩The Biry is composed of two or three leaves of that aromate called Paan by the natives, and Beetle by the English, some Catt or Catchou, and some grains of Ilachi, or Cardamoms, with a little. S8piary, or Beetlenut, and a little Chuna or shell-lime; the whole folded up in a bit of those Kela or Plantain leaves, that are of a lively green, and as shining as Satin; so as to form a Pyramid made fast with a long or clove as with a pin. See the remark, 268, Section 4th.
↩These words which singify forty columns, design a building of stone that exists still, and of which the English have several times made a post in their several wars. It is open on all sides, and supported by forty columns.
↩The Prophet’s foot. There are many such impressions in India, being the places where the Prophet has appeared to some one, whether in a dream or by day, or where an impression of his foot has been brought from Medina; and all these places have an oratory and several buildings adjoining.
↩The Cahtries are in dignity the second race or tribe in India, the Brahmans or Levites being the first. The Radjp8ts or military tribe, &c., are themselves reputed Cahtries, and both are handsomely featured.
↩The Cattary is a poniard peculiar to India, and made in such a manner that the handle looks like a hilt whose two branches extend along the arm, so as to shelter both the hand and part of the arm. Every stroke of it is mortal; for the blade which is very thick, and cutting on both sides upon a breadth of three inches at the hilt, ends in a solid point of one inch more or less in diameter; so as to be incapable of binding, or of being stopped by anything, save a cuirass. The blade may be a foot and quart in length, and with the hilt, two feet, or two and-a-half.
↩This long sword, called D-h8p, has been already explained, as being about four feet long, and held upright in the scabbard, as a walking cane. It has been a mark of Sovereignty; and it is even now of high command.
↩A man would think himself in disgrace, or at least slighted, if on a first visit, he chanced to be dismissed without a Biry being put in his hand.
↩Besides the D-h8p, or long broad sword, carried by some men of consequence bolt upright, it is customary, when the Prince or Navaab is sitting upon the Mesned, to lay upon that very Mesned another sabre, and this is always a bent one, like a Persian sabre.
↩Both these cities are now become the capitals of that new monarchy, that has sprung out of the ashes of Nadyr-shah’s Empire, and forms now a powerful State that embraces several contiguous provinces of Persia, India, and Tartary.
↩That is, a sheet of fine lines, that has been rubbed to Hossëin’s Monument at Kerbela, and is inscribed all over with passages of the Coran, or even with the whole Coran, in characters made with moistened Sandal-dust; and strange as it may seem, the Shyahs, both men and women, commit even crimes to get at those passports. Look at the remark 129, Section 10th.
↩These words with a few lines that follow, are given here literally as a specimen of our author’s oriental style.
↩The Prince of Martyrs ought by all means to be Mahomet himself, who was poisoned by his fair Jew prisoner, in his expedition against the Jews of Qháiber; but Mahomet cuts but a small figure with the Shyahs or Persian sectaries, whenever their own heroes may be affected by the competition. The Prince of Martyrs with them, therefore, is either Aaly, his cousin and son-in-law, who was slain at Nejef alias C8fah, near Basrah, where he lies buried; or Hossein, his grandson, by Fetemah, who was slain at Kerbela, near Bagabad, where he is entombed, and where his monument is resorted to every day by immense crowds of Persians, and even by Turks who chance to pass that way.
↩An Afghan knife is equal to a half sabre.
↩By the words believers, the author always means Shyahs.
↩In that case people of the highest distinction keep always on the watch at the gate of the Seraglio some Eunuch, or at least an old woman, whose business is to run forwards and give notice to the Ladies. Inferior people always stop at the curtain that indicates the apartment of women, and either cough several times, or talk aloud, or strike their hands together. This precaution is intended to afford some delay to any woman that should be bathing, or drying their hair in the sun, or shifting their clothes, or even proving without a veil. Any intrusion at such a time, by even the master of the house, would occasion a general screaming, or at least much murmuring.
↩This is the polite expression for signifying women.
↩One of the ancestors of Mahmed-shah, and the ninth in order above him. He was represented with a broad face, a thin goat’s beard, and a very thin pair of whiskers; so that the Tartarian features may be seen of late at that face. His son, Shah-djehan, had a thorough Indian face, that is, a beautiful one in the European style.
↩He died at M8rsh8d-abad a few years ago, and left a library of two thousand volumes; an amazing number, indeed, in such a country as this.—He was so highly respected for his learning, that both the Navvab Mubarec-ed-döula, and the Navvab Mazaffer-jung, alias Mahmed-reza-qhan, used to make him a profound bow from afar, on their going to render him a visit; nor did they offer to sit down without being bid.
↩That is, two or three delicate leaves of paan, (or, as say the Europeans, beetle) cut in parts, and folded up like a pyramid in a bit of banana-leaf, or plantain, containing likewise some shell-lime, or chuna, some s8piari (or beetle-nut) and some caat or (or catchoo,) the whole fixed with a clove that serves as a pin.
↩The same who since became Supreme Criminal Magistrate of Bengal, in 1780.
↩Observe that such an amazing fortune was no more than that of a second-rate man in Bengal; a Fodjdar of Bagsip8r, who to the advantage of being allied to the reigning family by marriage, added only that of having been fourteen years in a middling office, Such were then the riches of Bengal.
↩The lines marked by inverted commas, are a literal translation; and they are given here for a specimen of our author’s Oriental style.
↩This narrative does not satisfy in the original. It is lame and full of contradictions; and although these have been reconciled as much as possible, still it is lame and unsatisfactory; but such is the text.
↩This is the etiquette for meeting a father or a grandfather, after some absence. In either case the old man’s knees are to be embraced, and his feet kissed.
↩Such are, without exception, all the armies and all the troops of India; and were we to rate by this rule, those armies of fifty and a hundred thousand men that fought, or were slaughtered at the decisive battles of Palasy and Bacsar (and by some such rule must they be rated by all means), we would have incredible deductions to make. Such a rule, however, would not answer for Mir-cassem-qhan’s troops, where there was not one single false muster; nor would it answer for Haider-aaly’s armies.
↩This was a flattering allusion to Mirza-mehmed’s principal title, which was Seradj-ed-döula, id est the shining taper of the Empire. His other title (but this had been only in his childhood) was Shah-c8li-qhan, the Lord Soldier of the Kings.
↩This is the respectful and polite expression when a man speaks of the women of another, as well as of his own.
↩This lady is now living at M8rsh8d-abad; and although on being surprised at Radj-mahl some years after by Mir-cassem-qhan, she was stripped of every thing, yet it is certain that she is reputed rich; and she enjoys a pension from the Nizamut, i.e., from those English which her lord wanted to destroy to a man. She must not be confounded with fáizy or fáizen, another favourite of Seradj-ed-döulah’s. This last had been a Kenchéni at Delhi, i.e., a dance-girl, from whence her attendance had been supplicated (and this was the expression used) at the Court of M8rsh8d-abad, the request being accompanied by no less than a draught of one lac of rupees. She was, says the amorous Chronicle, of that Capital, a complete Indian beauty; of that right golden hue, so much coveted all over that region, and of that delicacy of person, which weighs only two and twenty seers, or about fifty pounds avoirdupois; a small delicate woman with a cool retreat, being the summum bonum of an Indian. Now, although the women of the Prince’s seraglio were kept with the most scrupulous attention, and Seradj-ed-döulah was the most beauteous youth of his time, yet the Indian beauty fell in love with the Prince’s brother-in-law, Séyd-mahmed-qhan, a very handsome man, as fair as an European, and of such a beauty of features, and stoutness of body, as would have done honor to any company in that part of the world. He was introdnced secretly; and two days after the matter took vent—“And so Miss,” said Seradj-ed-döula, “I find you are a whore.” “And why not?” answered the poor woman in despair, who at once foresaw her impending fate; “that word indeed might prove a reproach to your mother, but none to me; I am so by trade.” She was shut up in a closet, and the door was walled up; and three months after, she was found dried up to a skeleton, but not offensive. The translator has sent to England several of her portraits.
↩The translator has seen those oxen, for they were given two years after by Mir-djaafer-qhan to M. Wats; and he had the curiosity to measure their amazing bulk and height. He approached close to them, and endeavoured, but in vain, to reach the top of the bunch upon their shoulders with the tip of his middle finger, which fell short by full half a foot. They were of the right G8djrati breed, white as snow, and quite gentle, and had cost twelve hundred rupees the couple.
↩Those enemies, i.e., those he held as such, were Hossëin-c8li-qhan, and Bahader-aaly-qhan, in the sequel hacked to pieces; but his great adversary was his own uncle, Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, once Viceroy of Azim-abad, and now of P8rania.
↩It must be observed that the wall being only of earth, and the immense rains that fall every year having greatly damaged it in a country, where they never think of repairs, but at the last extremity, it was no very difficult matter to find some easy ascent.
↩Military men in India, that is, as many as can afford it, or are willing, wear a variety of cuirasses, of cotton, raw-silk, and also of steel (these last are made up of four pieces sliding upon each other). But common soldiers wear an ample surcoat thick quilted with cotton, that descends as far as the knees. These coats deaden the stroke of a sabre, embarrass the point of an arrow; and above all, keep the body cool, by intercepting the intenseness of the rays of the sun, which then diverge, and cease to burn and to enflame.
↩Gravity before one’s Sovereign and Lord would be deemed indecent in the Tartarian notions which the Moghols have imported into India; and to-day no man can approach the Turkish Emperor, but with a brisk pace, and also in boots so as to appear his soldier.
↩The Mahometans have such a high opinion of Jesus Christ, whom they believe to have preached nothing else but pure Mussulmanism, that they say that dead corpses that happened to be within reach of his breath, at once rose into existence and received life again.
↩It is incredible, but true, that physicians in India never suffered their patients to shift, and clean themselves, but when they have totally overcome their distemper; a practice that cannot fail to destroy an infinity of people.
↩This expression may be rendered by the words composer of the troubles of Religion, or by those of the Lord-negotiator of the Law.
↩This Princess was sister of Amnah-begum (mother to Seradj-ed-döulah) and also of Gahassity-bibi, consort to Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, nephew and son-in-law to Aaly-verdy-qhan. Rabiah-begum was likewise mother to Banni-begum, deceased some years ago; all names celebrated in the amorous chronicle of M8rsh8d-abad, for an infinity of curious adventures that need only a Chaucer, or a lafontaine, or a Bocace. In general the three daughters of Aaly-verdy-qhan, as well as their female posterity, have been lewd to a proverb.
↩A Banglaw is a building occasionally run up with bamboos, mats, and thatch; and this in a country blessed everywhere with that most useful of all reeds, the bamboo, or as the natives call it Bahans, is easily done in few days. But there are Banglaws worth ten thousand rupees.
↩This Prince, who is a handsome man, with all that beauty of features hereditary in that family, lives now at M8rsh8d-abad, where he enjoys a pension of five hundred rupees a month from the English, of whom so much ill is said, so much more is suspected, and who yet have supported and relieved every person remaining of that inimical family.
↩What the author calls an inconsiderable subject, is by no means an inconsiderable one for ladies. Hossëin-c8ly-qhan, who was, what they call in English, a handsome, stout, black man, had quitted this Princess, for her younger sister, Amna-begum, of amorous memory, mother to Seraj-ed-döulah. But there was another subject of discontent between her and the handsome stout man, although it looks somewhat ludicrous. The stout man had the talent of fencing with either hand; and whilst actually in intrigue with Gahassity-biby, the wife, he had a great deal of business to transact with the husband, who was an impotent man, addicted to feminine joys. This husband was Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, eldest nephew as well as son-in-law, to Aaly-verdy-qhan; and he had more than once serious quarrels with his consort about the ambidexter nobleman. There are at M8rsh8d-abad to this day several persons who remember of sharp dialogues that happened on that very strange subject between the husband and the wife; but although they are exceedingly curious, and not quite uncommon in this country, they prove, however, to be of such a nature as English paper would not admit.
↩This woman who had contracted in the seraglio an intimacy with a young eunuch, came out with him on her lord’s demise, and lived with him full thirty years, upon what jewels she had received in present in her days of prosperity. She died, as die all women, that attach themselves to a much younger man than themselves. She ended by being often beaten, and died of ill usage as much as of a broken heart.
↩The Mahometans cannot commence their prayers (and these recur five times a day) without washing previously the two hands, the mouth, nostrils, face, top of the head, neck and ears, arms and feet, in a certain manner and with certain short prayers. But in case of a sudden prayer (and this cannot be done but if standing or on horseback), then the ablution may be dispensed with. This ablution is only the daily and usual one. There is one of a higher nature, which always must precede the former, when a man has cohabited with a woman, is going to charge the enemy, &c., and it consists in plunging or washing the body with certain rites.
↩If we reckon twenty-five lacs more for elephants, horses, carriages, camels and boats, &c., &c., the aggregate of those sums will amount to more than one coror. Add to this ten lacs more in houses, gardens, furniture, apparel, artillery, stores, and arms; and also the sums expended in clothes and jewels within the seraglio (nor is that a small article); and the whole must amount to a saving of twenty lacs a year (for we must omit the first year, and make some account of the outstanding debts in the last). Add to all this the standing expenses for seven thousand Infantry and as much Cavalry; the Artillery; a fleet of boats; a numerous court receiving salaries; a seraglio of five hundred women; a table, splendid; and infinity of yearly clothes and jewels; as well as a legion of pensioners that received from five to a thousand rupees per month; and this aggregate of expenses cannot be rated at less than forty lacs more; in all sixty lacs; (and the translator has been assured by writers of his treasury, that his revenue amounted to fifty-eight lacs). Fifty-eight lacs! here is then a decay incredible, as being past all computation and all conjecture; for although some fifteen years ago Rezi-eddin-mahmed-qhan used to transmit yearly from thence eleven lacs to the treasury of M8rsh8d-abad, it is certain that P8raniah cannot yield now (1786) above six or seven lacs a year.
↩These sentences are in the Coran, and form a part of the service for the dead.
↩This is a tree with small dentated leaves, that produces a small yellow Berry of a sweetish taste. All Hindians make use of it in topical applications, often with singular success; and this practice of theirs deserves more attention than the disdainful European is pleased to pay to it. It is a large tree of a fine green; the leave, exceedingly bitter; the tree lofty and of the forest kind; the wood hard, brown and finely veined.
↩This word may be translated by those of like the Messiah, or of a Messiah like breath; for the Mohametans, who reckon Yessah or Jesus as one of their greatest prophets, and as the precursor of Mohammed, recount that his very breath restored to health those that chanced to be within its influence. Nor are those sounding titles extraordinary amongst physicians; they are given them by Princes and Sovereigns; and there has been at M8rs8d-abad an Aftab-Nadiry a fun incomparable.
↩This was Sáyd- ahmed-qhan’s title, and it signifies the impetuous in wars.
↩This prayer is in Arabick, and part of the service for the dead.
↩In a country where there are so few books, and where not one man in a thousand, can read, and not one in a million has any inclination to read, story-telling becomes a profession very useful to great men. But for what? To learn something? No; only to lull them to sleep.
↩It is unlawful to read the Coran in any other manner than with the voice, and the higher the voice, the greater the merit.
↩The mountains or rather hills of Radj-mahl, at three or four days north-west of M8rsh8d-abad, produce natural ice to the thickness of a shilling; but besides such ice, the Indians have a method of manufacturing artificial ice with boiled water (and no other) exposed the whole night to a still weather, where it congeals in plates of earth to the thickness of a crown. But (a striking singularity!) this boiled water needs be sheltered from the wind, not only by sinking the plates in an excavation two feet deep, where they are ranged in rows, but also by screening it with mats of straw. This ice is manufactured from November to February, and when a sufficient quantity has been procured, it is thrown in heaps, and rammed down in a closet made up of thick walls with a door made fast, and thick covered with straw; nay the closet itself is further defended from the heat by an additional roof of straw, rising some feet above the other.
↩The pipe which is an instrument so plain as well as clean with Europeans, and so slovenly rich and costly with the Turks, is with the Indians an apparatus called Hocca (Hoocaw by the Europeans), but of an ingenuity, elegance, and cleanness, that would inspire an inclination to smoke even to those who naturally detest the very smell of tobacco in any shape. See the remark 120, section 11.
↩Sufficient. The Corans of the two sects differ only in two words, and these two upon only the ablution of the feet. The Imamites or Pontificals, are the Shyahs, as they style themselves; for the word Shyah signifies separatistes or schismatics. The Lord of Command is no other than that same Imam-Mehdi who disappeared under one of the last Qhalifs of the House of Abbass, but is to appear again at the end of the world, to convert all mankind to the true sect, that is, to the Shyism or Imamism.
↩Mahm8d-hedjra. He was introduced in the hall, not as a curiosity of the Hermaphrodite kind (for the species is so common in India, as to pass totally unnoticed), but only as a cracker of jokes and sarcasm. There are three sorts of men who bear the name of Hedjras or Hermaphrodites in India; those that are naturally so, by having the two sexes full and distinct, one over the other, or one within the other; or only in part; or a confused medley of both. This is the first class. The second, called Hedjra likewise, and also Zenana, or feminine, are a species of young men born impotent, with tall slender bodies, and beardless faces; and although one would think that such a condition has nothing attracting in itself, yet are there people (and such is the depravity of mankind!) that force themselves into it, and bring themselves under the denomination of Hedjras by art; this being the third class. These are young men that assimilate themselves to that deplorable appearance, or have been emasculated by their unnatural parents; and this is done by twisting and wringing and tormenting the part several times a day, in a course of several months or even years. All these (who would believe it?) have female inclinations; wear a female dress; and there is at Lucknow a whole lane inhabited by those wretches—and this is all that decence allows me to say on that head.
↩Even so late as Aaly-verdy-qhan the Court of M8rsh8d-abad burned nothing but oil, in lamps of gold and silver, although there is plenty of wax in Bengal, where it is made up by wild bees. Nor was any other thing used in all the Courts of India. It is the Battle of Palassy and its consequences that have introduced wax-candles everywhere.—The implements mentioned here were nothing but rags, occasionally besprinkled with oil.
↩The adjectives, manish and womanish, have been conserved, or rather coined here, to save a circumlocution, which would have made the phrase languish; and also to give the reader a glimpse at the Eastern phrase, and at the Hindostany idiom on that particular occasion.
↩Mons. de Bussy, since Marquis de Bussy.
↩The natives of Bengal, calling the French Farasiss, whilst the lowest amongst them maim that word into that of Farashish and Farash; Chander-nagur, or rather Chundun-nagur, the French town in Bengal, is come to be designed by no other appellation than that of Farash-danga, the French point of land, or if you will, the upholsterer’s head of land; for Farash is Hindostany for upholster and pitcher of tents.
↩Nedjef, alias C8fah.
↩Mecca.
↩Medina.
↩This part of the text, which is very plain for an Indian, would be very obscure for an European, without a note. The tables spread in India are nothing but a painted cloth, or even a white cloth, of the form of a long square; for instance, ten feet in length, by four or five in breadth, spread upon a carpet of leather, brought with it for that purpose; or more commonly, upon the carpeting or mat of the room. The master of the house sits on the ground, for instance, on the northern part, with a dozen or more or less small dishes for his own self; and there may be two other such assortments spread on both sides of him, for two guests, and also two more or four, for as many guests more, which we shall suppose sitting on the western and eastern sides of the napkin. But below those four guests, the number of dishes go on diminishing in each assortment, until they reach the southern side; and there the number shrinks to two or three, and these too of an inferior sort very often, as being destined for people of a very different station. A man shocked at so much rusticity, observed, that if those people were worth the Navvab’s company, they were worth his victuals also; and if not his victuals, they were not worth his company neither, and, of course, ought not to sit at all. He was answered: Not so, sir; we are not such hard-hearted men as the Frenghis; and what for is a man to be a Navvab, if he is not distinguished by better victuals, and in greater quantity, than his courtiers? “Well, let him eat them all to himself, in his closet, in private; then I shall have no objections to his eating amber-gris and pounded pearl.” (This is sometimes done). What? So great a man to eat alone, with not a few dependants about him!
↩These whimsical names ought not to surprise the reader. These Fakirs, on devoting themselves to such a life, always assume fantastical titles, as well as fantastical dresses. There has been at Ila-abad such a man as Shah-cootta, or Saint Dog; and such a woman, or Fakirnee, as Shah-coottee, Saint Bitch; and we have seen at M8rsh8d-abad Shah-abdesh-shéitan, or Saint Servant of the Devil. Nay, his very successor was Shah-shéitan, Saint Devil.
↩Eliah having been taken up to Heaven in a fiery cart, is deemed alive by the Arabs, who therefore call him, the Green or Verdant; nor is he known all over the East by any other name, than that of Qhydyr, Qhadja-qhydyr, the Lord Verdant.
↩The place of Hassan’s burial is Medina, ten days north of Mecca; that of his younger brother, Hossëin, is Kerbelah, at three days’ journey, west of Bagdad.
↩If the embracing the sect should consist in no more than in proffering a certain form of belief, people would take no offence at it; but the main article, to which the new proselyte is obliged, consists in giving foul language and imprecations, to the three first successors of Mahomet, and indeed his best friends and staunch protectors, to wit Ab8-becr, Omar, and Osman. Hence those animosities between the two sects; the Sunnies being tolerant, and the Shyahs intolerant.
↩The reader may see in this single instance, amongst many others, traces of the profound veneration, with which Fakirs are beheld in India. This veneration goes so far, that even Christian Missionaries, who by the singularity of their air and garb are reputed European Fakirs, come in for a share of its effects.
↩The Afghans are all Sunnies, as is all Hindostan, and the rest of the Mahometan world; and even several provinces of Persia are Sunnies.
↩These bulls are called sanrs, and are consecrated to God, as so many Exvotos. They have in general an ear slit for distinction’s sake, and are found even in such great cities as Calcutta, where they are to be seen in most crowded markets, perfectly harmless, unless they discover another sanr. They are all fat. In the Gentoo laws, it is capital, to kill one of these bulls, or a cow.
↩Aaly, nephew, and son-in-law to Mohammed, was for his bravery, called the Lion of God. But he has many more epithets. Shah-djaafri, being a descendant of his, was of course his son.
↩The author, as well as the Saint, understand by that word, only the Shyahs, that is, the people of their own sect.
↩The reader must rate properly all those students, and all those expressions. Their only object was the Coran, and its commentaries, that is, the Mahometan religion, and the Mahometan law.
↩That is, Mohammed the afflicted. We have visited him twice in 1764 and 65, and found him a man of sense, and also of knowledge; but such was the opinion spread both of his holiness and learning, and such the profound respect paid him, that mighty Sovereigns like Shudjah-ed-döulah, and Mir-cassem-qhan, having made him a visit together, he received them sitting; and they, on being bid, took their seats kneeling, and at four yards distance; and when he thought proper to dismiss them, they advanced respectfully, kissed his knee, made a profound bow, and retired marching backwards. He gave them each a Qhylaat and a Dopata, which they received as a high honour. He told me that he had never loosened the cordon of his drawers neither upon a lawful or an unlawful occasion, (such was his expression) and of course that he had never meddled with a woman.
↩He had been several times to see his stone coffin; but that day he sate in it, then stretched himself at length, and having found it too long, he ordered it to be shortened.—It was of Chennar stone.—Mir-cassem-qhan once sent him a sum of sixty thousand rupees to be distributed amongst the poor, (this was the etiquette expression). He would not look at the money, sent it back, and answered the most respectful message in these words: Would not one think from hence that all is happiness in Bengal, and that there are no poor in that country?
↩Aaly is buried at Nedjef or C8fah, a town in the territory of Basrah; and his son, Hossëin, at Kerbela.
↩Iranians, that is, the Persians, which latter word is not known in the East.
↩Called Saal by the Europeans; it is a kind of Sahvan, which last wood is called Teck by the French, and Teeck by the English.
↩The Cashmirians, as well as Bengallees, bear a strange character all over Hindostan, for faithlessness, roguery, and impudence. The proverb says: Cashmiri, bi Piri; Bengallee, Djendjali. The Cashmirian acts as an Atheist; but the Bengallee is always one from whom there is no disentangling one’s self. However, there is a still more formidable adage against Cashmirian women: an adage, which seems to set at nought those engaging countenances, those elegant shapes, those charming features, and that ingenious fertility in love contrivances, which nature has so largely bestowed on them; and it is this: Cashmiri, bi Piri; ne Lezzet, ne shiri. The faithless Cashmirian affords neither taste nor flavour.
↩The Mahometans fast rigorously during that whole month, from the dawn of the day to sunset, without either eating or drinking, and even without smelling any perfume.—See Note 128—Section II.
↩Persia has no other general name all over the East. It is only that part of it is called Pars, the Persis of the Greeks, which bears that European name.
↩The Prince of Men is Mahomet, but the First of Pontiffs, according to the Shyah principles of the author, is Aaly, whose pontificate, or reign, the Shyahs take to be the completion of Mussulmanism; the pontificate being one of the articles of their faith, although not an article of the Mussulman faith.
↩The year 1779 and 80 of the Christian era.
↩The words, the forgiven, always answer to the English expression, the late; the deceased.
↩The house of God is the Caaba or square house within the mosque of Mecca. The house of one of the Martyrs is at C8fah or Nedjef, where is buried Aaly. There is another at Medina, where is buried Hassen, his son; and another at Kerbelah, the burial place of Hosséin, his younger son. The Rezevian threshold is at T8ss or Mesh-hed, where is buried Aaly M8ssa-reza.
↩This Mir-nuzur-aaly was a man in the style of Hussëin-c8ly-qhan, tall, stout, and handsome. This man, who ran away from Bengal with twelve or fifteen lacs in jewels, and God knows how much more in cash, returned into that country in the year 1780, poor and distressed, obliged to live in his old age at the expense of a dance-woman, an old acquaintance of his; he had squandered all that treasure at Dice at Banares.
↩This Mohon-lal had made a present of his sister to Seradj-ed-döulah, which sister was a true Indian beauty, small and delicate. For nothing is more common amongst Indians, when they want to give an idea of a surpassing beauty, than to say, when she ate Paan, you might have seen through her skin the coloured liquor run down her throat; and she was so delicate as to weigh only twenty-two seers, (or sixty-six pounds English); which by-the-bye, was, they say, the weight of that beloved girl, which Seradj-ed-döulah ordered to be immured alive. She was detected in an intrigué with Seradj-ed-döulah’s brother-in-law. “Miss,” said the Prince, “I find that you are a whore?” “And so am I,” answered, disdainfully the poor woman in despair, who had been a dance-woman, “I have ever been so. This indeed might be made a matter of reproach to your mother, but not to me; I am so by trade.”
↩Such was then the etiquette expression. Matters are much altered now; and the chief-man of that town is now the Ruler of the greatest Empire in India.
↩Ladies.—There is not a word here of those English shut up in the Black-hole, to the number of 131, where they were mostly smothered. The truth is, that the Hindostanees wanting only to secure them for the night, as they were to be presented the next morning to the Prince, shut them up in what they heard was the prison of the Fort, without having any idea of the capacity of the room; and indeed the English themselves had none of it. This much is certain, that this event, which cuts so capital a figure in Mr. Watts’s performance, is not known in Bengal; and even in Calcutta, it is ignored by every man out of the four hundred thousand that inhabit that city; at least it is difficult to meet a single native that knows any thing of it; so careless, and so incurious are those people. Were we therefore to accuse the Indians of cruelty, for such a thoughtless action, we would of course accuse the English, who intending to embark four hundred Gentoo Sipahees, destined for Madras, put them in boats without one single necessary, and at last left them to be overset by the boar, where they all perished, after a three days’ fast.
↩A Bhovaliah is a boat from fifty to a hundred and twenty feet in length, upon three or four in breadth, rowed by 20 or 60 rowers. The rapidity with which they paddle against a stream that runs at the rate of from seven to twelve miles per hour, is past belief.
↩This is a sortie of our author’s upon Mir-djaafer-qhan, who, four years after the capture of Calcutta, made a present to Colonel Clive of ten handsome women out of his seraglio, that is, out of Seradj-ed-döulah’s seraglio, although he was himself a Séyd, or a descendant of the Prophet’s, and, like all the Mussulmen Princes of India, had assumed the surname of Ghazi or champion fighting against infidels.
↩Shir in Persian signifies equally milk and Tiger or Lion, the sound and character being exactly the same
↩The word Mufti coming from Fetva (answer) signifies a giver of answers; casuist. The Mufti is the highest Ecclesiastical dignity in a city or province.
↩A passage of the Coran.
↩The Queen.
↩This is the first instance, probably, in the East, where people submitting to a Monarch, thought of tying him down to certain conditions and stipulations.
↩The titles of these two persons are omitted by the speaker, through contempt; for the first was no less a man than Shudjah-ed-döulah, and the second was the Vezir, Sheab-eddin-umad-el-mulk, who dethroned both Ahmed-shah and Aalemghir second, his master.
↩The Qhorassan, the easternmost province of Persia, is at least five hundred leagues from P8rania.
↩When people of the first rank come to visit, the public introductor walks before them, but without saying a word; only he, or the head mace-bearer, names by their titles such persons of high rank as are in the service. Others of an inferior rank, and in the service, are conducted to the end of the hall, by the head mace-bearer, who, whilst they make a profound bow, names them, and adds, as from them, these words: Renowned Navvab greeting. These are the words of etiquette. Navvab namdar, selamet. The Chop-dar is then upon the same line with them, and at their right. Persons, not in the service, are never named, unless indeed they be low people, or it be necessary to awaken the Prince’s attention, actually engrossed by some other object; and then the salute of etiquette is omitted, although the mace-bearer salutes sometimes with the hand, at the very time the introduced makes a profound bow.
↩It was observed that although he made use of the most obscene and most infamous language, when speaking to his Commanders and officers, he gave his household-people no other abuse than that used by women; and such are, for instance, the expressions of Ningori, Ningora; Nép8tri, Né-p8tra; Né-qhysmi; Sir-mondi; Qhandi; which signify: relationless woman or man; childless woman or man; husbandless; hairless, or head-shaved; she-laughter; and to be shaved, or without a head of hair, is a great opprobrium amongst all kinds of women; and to laugh is accounted a piece of levity amongst women of distinction, who are allowed only to smile.
↩Figure of a fish, four feet in length, in copper, gilt, carried horizontally on the point of a spear.
↩An intoxicating drug, made by pounding in water the sommities of a kind of hemp. It is thick, of a dirty green, and more common, as well as fifty times cheaper, than Gin is in England.
↩The sedan, or throne, or saddle, placed on an elephant, is always divided in two unequal parts, the hindmost of which affords room for one man, and is called Qhavvas.
↩Probably this name indicates some place of worship, or the performance of some religious duty.
↩These two words might be translated by the expression, the Princess Sugarcandy; for Begum signifies Princess. However, it must be observed that it is become an appellative added to their names by all daughters of Séyds; just as the daughters of Moguls are styled Qhanums, and those of Hindostanees, Bibis; which two last words signify Lady, all over India and Persia; but Qhanum, in Turky, signifies Princess as well as all over Tartary.
↩This word is a corruption of the English word Platoon, which comes itself from the French Pelotton.—The word Talinga is used in Bengal, and in the countries around, to signify those native disciplined soldiers called by Europeans Sipahees; a word which in Hindostany signifies no more than soldiers, army men.
↩Sabut-djung.
↩The water is white there at all times, especially for nine months of the year; but the Bengalees have no other word to design the sea, alias the bitter water, calá pani or cara-pani.
↩The Courageous in Battles, is the title by which Admiral Watson is known in Bengal; nor is Chundernagore known by any other name than that of Farash-danga, the French Point or Promontory.
↩Terrano, a French officer, who dissatisfied with Renaud, the Governor of the Fort, went over, not to the Admiral, but to the Colonel, to whom he became of some use.—This man who had some merit, having made money in the English service, sent a few years after, a supply to his father in France, promising to take care of him henceforward. The old man returned the money, with a letter, in which he protested against holding any correspondence with a traitor to his country; and the son, in despair at the style of the letter, hanged himself at his own door, with his own handkerchief. He was a tall, stout man, who having lost his right arm by a ball of cannon, had found means to write legibly with the left, and what is more, to write a pamphlet on Artillery, in good English. The officers at first would not admit him in their corps; but the Colonel remonstrated, and he observed, that his word was engaged to the man on that article, and that a failure on his part would preclude any further desertions.
↩These woods are all regularly planted, and kept clean; for most of the fruit trees in India are tall trees. These groves are exceedingly common all over that country. That of Palassy, in particular, may have been two miles in circuit; it is a square; but now it is greatly neglected and diminished.
↩This speech, which is as literally translated as the idiom would admit, is neither that of an idiot, nor that of a tyrant; nor is that Prince’s behaviour to Sháocat-djung’s family and children, or to our author’s family, that of an idiot or a tyrant. Seradj-ed-döulah appears to have been a young man very ill educated, through an overfondness in his parents; and a Prince too early transferred from the school to a throne.
↩That cannon was served by a number of Frenchmen, commanded by Sinfray, as the report goes, who was a Member of the Council of Chandernagore in 1757.
↩The day of his being proclaimed, he invited the Colonel and the principal English, as well as the principal Grandees of his Court, and the principal Commanders of his troops. A magnificent Mesned, or throne, was spread at the north end of the hall, where it remained empty for a time, notwithstanding the Colonel’s intreaties. At last the victorious Commander got up, took Mir-djaafer-qhan by the hand carried him to the Mesned, made him sit in it, kept him down with the arm, and then presented his Nezer. This was followed by the Nezers and homages of the English, and of all present; and a Royal salute announced the proclamation to the whole city.
↩As we have been ourselves, in the very next year, in the Company’s service, as Linguists to Colonel Clive, in whose camp we were, we remember to have heard from the mouth of Mr. John Walsh, who was Commissary in that army, that himself went into that treasury, with Mr. Wats, Mr. Lushington, Ram-chund, the writer or Divan, and Labekishun, the Moonshy or Persian Secretary, and found it to contain one hundred and seventy-six lacs in silver, two and thirty lacs in gold, two chests of gold ingots, four of jewels set, and two lesser ones of loose stones and gems; but what is singular, and yet true, this was only the outer treasury; and those renowned English, who look down with contempt on the intellects and abilities of the Bengalees, and yet are perpetually bubbled and duped by them, did not know anything of the inner treasury, said to contain eight corors, and which, pursuant to a custom well-known in India, and which is ordinary even to private men, was kept in the Zenana, or women’s apartments. This inner treasury was made away with between Mir-djaafer, Emir-beg-qhan, Ram-chund, and Labekishun, whose silence was purchased by a share in the contents, or who, it was said, made away with the Colonel’s share. This much is certain, that ten years after, Ram-chund, who in 1758 was only a writer at sixty rupees per month, died worth seventy-two lacs in cash and bills; four hundred large water-pots, eighty of which were of gold, and the rest of silver; eighteen lacs in landed property, and twenty lacs of jewels; in all a coror and-a-quarter. All this immense property, which then became notorious, and which Mr. Barwell rated at only eighty lacs, could not have been made under Vansittart, whose Divan he became; for Vansittart himself, who had brought a lac of property into Bengal, and left it with no more than nine (a sum which his very salary and commission could have easily made up), was far from being worth one-tenth of the property of his Divan, although both that Governor and Hastings were so much cried down at that time for having sold Bengal to Mir-cassem-qhan for twenty-two lacs: an assertion, proved to be an atrocious calumny, when Vansittart, after a four years’ administration, set out for England with less than ten lacs; and Hastings, his associate, proved to be so poor, that having in vain applied to his Divan (Cant8) for a supply of twelve thousand rupees, for present subsistence in England, he was at last obliged to receive that assistance from Aga Bedross (Coja Petruce), but without being able to repay it sooner than ten years after, when Hastings came second to Madras. If then these two omnipotnet men made no money by a four years’ administration, and by a revolution which put every thing in their power, of course Ram-chund, who was only their servant, could make but little himself, if any at all; the coror and quarter then must have been the Colonel’s share, which he sunk in his own pocket. This assertion will be much corroborated by the incredible sum which Labekishun (in Colonel Clive’s time, a man at sixty rupees per month, as well as Ram-chund) is said to have expended at his mother’s funeral (nine lacs), and by the immense fortune which Menni-begum, the favourite consort of Mir-djaafer-qhan’s, is known to be possessed of to this day. This fortune, which is computed by corors, could not be made anywhere, but at that precise occasion; for her husband is known to have lived and died poor, distressed, and enormously indebted; so much so, that his troops are than once endangered his life for their pay, and at last conspired against him with Mir-cassem, his son-in-law.
↩Kichri is a mess of pulse and rice boiled together, but so, however, as that all the grains should remain asunder. It is the usual food of the poorest people in rice-countries, although there is a way of rendering it acceptable to great folks, by frying it in butter first, and then boiling the same with spices, &c. The Fakir at first did not mind the Prince, as not suspecting him to be any thing but one of those many travellers that daily pass that way; but on casting his eyes on the very rich slippers of his guest, he put questions to the boat-men, who soon gave him full information.
↩It was reported a year after that Mir-djaafer-qhan had sent some Satellites of his with orders to cudgel him to death. Others say, that Radja D8l8b-ram got him poisoned, to free himself from the necessity of surrendering a prisoner of that consequence.
↩There is so little difference between the Hindostany dress of man and woman, that save the turbant (which by-the-bye is worn by virgins of the Royal blood and by others), it requires the eye of skill and experience to state that difference; and this consists in general in the chola, or close coat, which is much higher with women, than with men; in the daman, or petticoat tacked to it, which is four times ampler in a woman than in a man; and lastly, in the lining of the hem, which is always in white with men, but of the most gaudy silks with women, and these too adorned with lace. Miren dressed like a woman, and moreover spoke like a woman; that is, upon an emergency he made use of those feminine expressions mentioned in the Note of this Section.
↩This Mahmedy-beg is also known under the name of Laal-mahmed; or else Laal-mahmed, a favourite servant of Miren’s, was joined in the commission.
↩The Prince having so far recollected himself as to wish to purify himself according to law (for such a purification, and also another, together with two short prayers are of obligation on any man going to the charge, or to death) was refused; upon which he asked some water to quench a violent thirst; and this also having been refused, he submitted to his fate.
↩Dance-women, although not professed prostitutes, are however reputed such.
↩An intoxicating beverage, made of the leaves and seeds of a kind of flax, growing in India.
↩An ingenious, very cleanly and very elegant apparatus used in India, for smoking.
↩Bang is a tall plant, that forms the transition between the European hemp, and the European flax. Its sommities being pounded with water, and a mixture of some spice, afford a thick liquor of a dirty green, with which low people procure themselves a flush in the cheeks and eyes, and a momentary flow of spirits, that borders on intoxication; but it is to fall again into a greater lowness of spirits than ever. It is fifty times cheaper than Gin is in England; and being a narcotic, it answers the purpose of a provocative: a denomination, under which, any thing will go down with an Indian.
↩We have already observed, that Indian Lords being extremely addicted to astrological predictions, never set out on any voyage or matter of consequence, without having first consulted the stars about a favourable moment; and this being once observed, they set out, be the weather what it will, and commence their journey, were it but to stop at five hundred yards farther; and this is called changing one’s ground.
↩The European reader must not mistrust the elegance of this answer. Such was Ram-naráin’s style; and our author himself says, that not only he wrote Grammar, but also with much more elegance than is to be seen amongst Gentoos writing the Persian.
↩This agent ought to have been the translator himself; but, however, it proved to be Nandcomar; the translator, being a man who had at all times an infinite deal of wit, but seldom common sense.
↩From Milna, to meet.
↩The H8ly is exactly the carnival of the Gentoos.
↩The usual dress at Court, as well as with the bulk of the nation (save, however, the Syks), is the white; the very climate seeming to invite to that refreshing colour. And the Emperor Aureng-zib used to say, on that account, that were it made by art, he would reserve it, as a distinction for the Imperial family; in which reserve he had an eye to the yellow, which is the wear of the Imperial family and household in China; and to the red, with yellow boots and dishes, which is the colour of the Princes in Tartary. To set a proper value upon that liberality of the Navvab’s, it must be remembered that such a dress, to wit, a woman’s pishvaz (a, kind of petticoat, ten or twenty or thirty times ampler than an European one), may, with its corresponding ve il, be dyed in any colour for two shillings; and the colour discharged again for a groat. Nor does the dress itself (it is of mal-mal) cost above two or three guineas.
↩The author mentions beef flesh with contempt, because, in fact, none will feed on it but the lowest people; although there is plenty of good beef in India, cheaper than in any capital of Europe, save Constantinople and Moscov.
↩The tary, called toddy by the English, is an agreeable, colourless liquor, of a sweetish pungent taste, that oozes by terebration from the coco-tree, and from the date-tree; but above all, from that kind of palmeto-tree, mentioned by Arrianus, two thousand years ago, under the name of tal-os, which name it bears to this day, being called taal-ca-gatch, the tall tree. It grows straight like a candle, to the height of fifty or sixty feet, but with no branching, save at the top, where it sends forth twenty or twenty-five large leaves that spreads like a fan, and with the same appearance, but upon a diameter of two or three feet. The Indians, with a rope fastened to their two feet, and another round the tree and their armpits, have the knack of climbing to the top of it in a thrice. The tary in twenty-four hours becomes vinegar, and when distilled, produces a violent liquor.
↩Alexander, the Macedonian.
↩The Emperors of Hindostan descended in a direct line from Soltan Babr, grandson to Pir-mahmed-mirsa, eldest son to the Conqueror Tem8r, alias Tamerlan, or lang, which word is only a Persian translation of the Turkish words Timur acsac, the only name which he bears to this day amongst the Euzbegs, his countrymen. Now Tomir-is is only that same name Timur, to which the Helines gave a Greek or Ionian termination. But over and above those races of the Sefevian family, as descending from the males, there is another family at M8rsh8d-abad, that descends from the females; and Mirza-dä8d, whose son Mirza-qhalil has espoused a daughter of Mubarec-ed-döulah’s, is the chief of it.
↩That Palace which was on the other side of the Bagratty, and contained lodgings enough for three European Kings, is now ruined, and the materials have served to build the killa, or kaalaa, or palace of M8rsh8d-abad, where now resides his son, Mubarec-ed-döulah, as well as an infinity of private houses. The palace inhabited by Aaly-verdy-qhan goes now by the name of Seradj-ed-döulah’s, but it is totally ruined.
↩This an expression common in Persia and India.
↩To forge a writing, or a consent, is easy in India as well as in Persia, because very few people being able to write, every one is obliged to sign his name, by making use of a seal, whereon it is engraven, and which is always stamped with printer’s ink. But writing is much more common amongst Gentoos; and these always sign.—Look at the remark 183 Section 8th.
↩That building, better known under the name of the Imam-bara, or Pontiff’s Close, is two stories high, and built like a cloister, with a great open hall in the middle. The interior parts of that cloister, to wit, those that front the yard, and are supported on porticoes, being in the Moharrem time covered with isingglass of several colours, behind which are lamps burning, afford a pleasing spectacle. That Imam-bara had been raised by Seradj-ed-döulah; and it has been imitated by numbers of persons of fortune, who have now Imam-baras at home; and repairing thither by night to assist at theatrical rites of those ten days, and always to perform a part in them, constitutes now the main part of the religion of the Bengalee-mussulmen, who are now all Shyahs, after having been all Sunnies to that time.
↩To lay an ambuscade was the more easy, as every one goes armed at that time, and the streets are full day and night, but especially in the night, of armed people, who march with drums beating, and colours flying, to represent the march of Hosséin’s partisans who flocked to his camp.
↩Talia-garry is a fort that shuts up the passage into Bengal. It consists in a wall, strengthened with towers, that extend from the foot of the hills to the rocky bank of the Ganges; it has neither ditch nor rampart; and yet answers well enough the purpose in a country where they know nothing of sieges, and hardly anything of artillery. Else, a battery of twenty-four pounders would make a breach in it in half a day; and a couple of mortars, placed upon the brow of the hill, would destroy every man and every building in the fort.
↩The Mundiars are a subdivision of the Radj-p8t, or military tribe, which is itself one of the four grand divisions of the Indian, or Hindoo nation.
↩The dopata, which is, as its very name imports, of two breadths of linen, each about seven or eight feet in length, serves often for a sash or girdle in an undress; but a full dress requires a camer-bend, or sash and girdle in form; or else it requires a patca.
↩To understand this passage, it must be remembered, that it is an allusion to the army sent from Sham, alias Damascus, by Yézid, against Hosséin, who is the first of Séyds, and perished with thirst at the battle of Kerbela. Now Mir-cazem was both a Séyd and a Shyah; and the Afghans are, to a man, Sunnies, as was Yézid.
↩These words, which were a title hereditary in that family, signify the Greatest of the State.
↩Persia.
↩That is, the Séyd descended from the branch of Hassen, elder brother to Hosséin.
↩A rupee of gold is worth fourteen or fifteen rupees of silver.
↩In Hindostan the general name for A8d, and still more for Bengal, is P8r8b, which signifies East, or Eastern region. Nor is the name of Bengala any thing but a derivation from the word Bang, the name of Bengal, in old books, and also in the Imperial registers.
↩A festival celebrated by Gentoos at the beginning of Spring, Besent itself signifying that season.
↩The Paymaster (and also the generous) of the State, the Valorous Séyd-hedáiet-aaly qhan, the Succourer of the State, and its Lion in battle.
↩Perfect of the State.
↩Reza-c8ly-qhan (the lord, slave, or soldier, of St. Reza’s) the enlightened of the state, and the incomparable in wars.
↩Zinet-mahal signifies the Ornament of the apartment, that is, of the women’s apartment.
↩This reservoir is neither at the eastern part of the city,where the Bengal army might be expected, nor at the western, to which the Prince was coming; but only mid-way, betwixt the two. And here it is to be noted, that those reservoirs so common in India, but especially in Bengal, and all over the coast of Coromandel, are large pieces of water, sometimes of five hundred yards the side, or of about a mile in circumference, upon a depth of five or six feet in the driest weather, and of twice or thrice as much in the rains.
↩This expression is literally translated.
↩The trustworthy of the State.
↩The left hand all over Asia, and from Turkey to India, being that of the sword and poniard, is the most honourable.
↩This is the name given in Hindiu to the birds of Paradise, which the Dutch import from the Moluccas, with feathers and all.
↩The new year’s day falls, for the Indians, on the 21st or 22nd of March, just at the vernal equinox.
↩Sabut-djung. This was the name Colonel Clive went by in those times, and ever after, even when he came back under the name of Lord Clive.
↩The Frenchman. This M8sher Lass is the same whom the French called Monsieur Lass, a son to the famous Scotchman, John Law, Comptroller of the Finances, in 1720, at Paris.
↩This Deputy’s sudden rise is no less extraordinary than his sudden disgrace. He was presenting some papers for signature to that Prince, who was then in the delicious retreat of a qhass-qhana, (a word which has been explained) when the latter chanced to say these words: Nothing is wanting now but a Gentoo virgin of fourteen. Ready, answered the man; and straight he sent for his sister, which was a beauty; and the beauty carried the brother to the office of Prime Minister. Several years after the peace of Ilah-abad, he had his eyes plucked out, for malversation, it was said, but in reality, because he had too many connections with the English.
↩A badjaraw is a boat, sometimes of a hundred feet in length, and a proportionable breadth, so as to look very much like a galley, being rowed by ten, twenty, or twenty-four men. Such a boat is more commodious and more showy than any barge in Europe; and it has as many commodities and conveniencies, as a floating habitation can comport.
↩Umad-el-mulk, Mester-Hushtin-bahadyr, Djeladet-djung.
↩The sipahees, called Talingas in Bengal and in A8d, are those native soldiers, which were first raised and embodied by the French of Pondicherry, when they were besieged by Admiral Boscawen in 1746 or 47; but the French, who only gave them musquets and bayonets, were never able either to change their cumbersome dress, or to discipline them, or to bring them under controul thoroughly; whereas the English sipahees of these days (1786), as well as those of thirty years ago, are really trained and disciplined soldiers, well armed, well accoutred, and properly clad, and thoroughly under command. Originally they were commanded by Arabians, or those of their descendants born in the Canara and Cö8can, or western part of India, where those foreigners style themselves Gharbies, or Western. Moreover their corps were composed mostly of Arabs, Negroes, and Habissinians, all which bear upon that coast, the same name of Gharbi, which is Arabic for Westerling, and designed the situation of their native country, with respect to India; just as the Taitch, or Dutch, or Germans, bore heretofore the name of Easterlings in England. In time the word Gharbi was corrupted by both the French and Indians into that of Gardi; which is now the general name for sipahees all over India, save Bengal and the neighbouring countries, where they are styled Talingas; because the first sipahees that came in Bengal (and they were imported in 1757 by Colonel Clive) were all Talingas, or Tel8g8s born, being of the coast of Coromandel, and speaking hardly any language but their native.
Native Tol8g8; their music to this day does not bear amongst themselves, as well as amongst the natives, any other appellation than that of Arobi-taass, or Arabian flat drum or music, or march; for the word tom-tom is a word coined by the English officers of that time, who being by no means so skilled in the Hindostany language as are their successors, and at a loss how to explain themselves, coined that word by onomatopœia, or in imitation of sound; and it was adopted by the sipahees as well as the natives, who took it to be English for drum.
↩Alias Mir-sheabeddin, grandson to Nizam-el-mulk.
↩This long sword is as broad, but twice as long as the Curtana of the English Kings at their coronation; from which it differs likewise, by having a branch to its hilt. It is in a scabbard of velvet, and held like a walking cane, and is reputed a mark of sovereignty, and always of high command. It is called D-h8p.
↩The principal of these ceremonies consists in raising a parasol, or umbrella, or sun-screen, if you will, over the Emperor’s head, and in whirling it round the head several times; after which it becomes a constant appendage to the throne, behind which it stands upright, and shades his head. This throne is made like an old fashioned arm-chair, with the back lofty and upright, the arms straight, and ending in lion’s hcads; the lower part is fitted with a foot-stool. This is the old Indian throne, as imported from Tartary, by the Babrian Princes, and still in use at the Court of Dehli, on solemnities. But there is, for other occasions, a throne in the Indian, and of course more elegant fashion. It is an octagonal palki, leaning upon eight feet, thirty inches high, and fashioned into beautiful pillars, with their capitals inverted; but still with the parasol, or umbrella behind; and this umbrella which is so common a conveniency in the southern parts of Europe, as well as in China, is at Dehli, and all over India, an appendage reserved not to the Imperial family, but only the Imperial persons.
↩The Vezir’s casket is of gold, enriched with jewels, but yet kept within a velvet covering that fits it exactly; and it is richly embroidered. It contains the Emperor’s broad seal; that is, a piece of gold, whereon are engraven the Emperor’s name and titles, in beautiful Persian characters, with sometimes the name of his father. It contains also some stationary, and two or three seals of a lesser bigness. This seal may be two inches and-a-half in diameter, and circular, although the others are square or oval; and here is the seal which that Prince took at that time, and which for a time, served likewise for stamping the coin. It is in verses; and these verses were made extempore by Mir-mehdi-qhan, a Persian Secretary of the translator’s acquaintance. The words are disposed as follows:—
God, protector of the law of Mahomet shade, favour, Shah-aalem Emperor 1202. Coin struck for seven climates.
1Which words must be construed thus in Persian: Sikkézed ber heft Kishver Saié-i-fazl-ilah hami-i-din-Mohammed, Shah-aalem, Padshah, 1202.
Which words must be read thus: Shah-aalem, Emperor, Protector, of the Law of Mahommed, by the Shade of God’s favour, has struck this coin for the seven climates, 1202 (1787.) This original name was Aaly-goher.
Aaly-goher, which signifies gem of high value, the name he now assumed, (and it was Shah-aalem Padeshah) did not signify King of the world, as some have been inclined to translate it, but Supreme Monarch only; and possible in this expression, he had an eye to the many monarchies and principalities set up in India; at least this translat ion is what, not the words, but the Indian idiom points out.
↩Alias Nedjb-qhan, the Prince who founded some forty years ago an Afghan principality, north of Dehli. It is now possessed by his son, Zabeta-qhan.
↩Brother to Richard Barwell.
↩A passage of the Koran in Arabic, often in the mouths of the afflicted.
↩A bangla is in general a building, run up with bamboos, or India reeds, mats, straw, and some bricks and mud; it has a lofty roof thatched, and of course, always cool.
↩Called by the author Sefêvi, because he drew his pedigree from the Sefi, or of the Sefian race, one of the first founders of which was Shah-sefi, who reigned in Iran, or Persia, in the fourteenth century. However, Sheh-hâider is the real founder.
↩From several similar passages in our author, it appears that since Nadyr-shah’s invasion, but above all, since the two mighty battles in the province of Delhi, where the Afghans destroyed a hundred and twenty thousand Marhattas; all the Indian Princes (the Mussulman ones at least) acknowledge a tacit subordination to the D8rrani, or Abdali monarchy. This much is certain, that the Peshto language and Abdali dress have gained all the northern parts of Hindostan, as far as Lucnow, where the Sovereign wears it in winter, and speaks a few words of Peshto; and where even the women of the seraglio make it a point to mix some words of it in their speech.
↩The sword of the State in battles.
↩No man that has not seen the forests of India, can have an idea of the darkness and horror by which a visitor is at once surrounded. Lofty trees eternally green, growing close together, intercept, not only the light of the sun, but the very sight of the sky. Not a leaf is seen moving, not a bird is seen hopping about, save some crows; and chirping is as unknown there as would be an organ touched by a Handel. Such are the Sal forests that bound Bengal on the north; and such the Sahvan or Tec forest that bound it on the west and south-west. Myriads of red ants, still more formidable by their enormous bigness than by their voracity, seem, as well as stupendous serpents, to be the only inhabitants of those lonely woods, that is, the western ones. As for tigers, lions, deer, and other animals, they seem to avoid them, and to covet the thickets and grassy plains.
↩There are two ways of lulling asleep in India. The first, by the chuppy, a method of handling, from the feet upwards, all the members successively; opening the palm of the hand as if going to gripe hard a handful of flesh, and yet grasping it so gently, as hardly to make any impression. The person that operates, is always a young one, and with long fingers, and a satined skin. The second way is called dahh, or dabna, and consists in striking all the members successively with gentle fifty cuffs. In general, people indulge in having two persons operating at one and the same time on each side, each in different methods, whilst the tale-teller contributes his part, by rehearsings omeludicrous, luscious, or high flavoured, or grave and affecting tale; andt here are some that deserve to be printed, being exceedingly curious and affecting: (I regret the loss of such a collection.) Within the seraglio, these three offices must be performed by women; and these, to the difference of men, have high salaries; but they must be pretty, elegantly dressed, witty, and ready at repartees. And it is from several of these that had belonged to Shudja-ed-döulah’s seraglio, and to others, that the collection above had been made.
↩It is customary to lay a sabre at the pillow of men of distinction, not against men, but against evil spirits, which are reported in India to be afraid of bare sabres; and it is for that reason likewise, that women in child-bed have always one at their head pillow; and also are surrounded and covered by four unsheathed sabres, when they come forth on the sixth day to shew the stars or the sun to their new-born; and they are preceded by an unsheathed sword, whenever they go to the bathing place, or to any one still more secret.
↩There came at that time from Patna, or Azim-abad, to M8rsh8d-abad, on their way to Calcutta, two pretty Portugueze women; that is, women of that embrowned colour which descended from some Portugueze of old. One of them was a widow, but her sister was a virgin. Miren, who heard of their figure, sent to offer them a distinguished place in his seraglio; but they excused themselves on their being forbidden by their religion from commencing such connections. They were suffered to proceed to Palassy, where two or three hat-men, their friends, were murdered, and the women brought back to M8rsh8d-abad, where they were put in Miren’s seraglio; and we are apt to suspect that the two women put to death, are no other than these unfortunate creatures, who died six months after. They were reported to have sent messages to some Portugueze, or Frenchmen, in Miren’s artillery, by whose contrivance they expected to escape to Calcutta.
↩This purification, which is called woz8, or rather wodh8, consists in washing the hands, mouth, nostrils, face, arms, head, neck, and feet, in a certain manner, and with certain rites and prayers; and this purification, with clean clothes, if possible, must always precede every legal prayer; that is, five times a day. There is another higher purification, always practised by women after menstruation; and by both sexes after cohabitation, after touching a dead body, &c., &c. It is called gh8sl, and consists either in plunging the whole body several times in pure water, or in pouring quantities of it over the head and shoulders. The former purification, and if possible, the latter, are always required of a man who is going to be put to death. The report is, that the officer’s orders were betrayed by his own emotion and tenderness. Mother, said he to the eldest sister, you have eaten nothing the whole day; eat something, for you are going to take a long journey— and—here he was interrupted by his own tears and sobs, &c., &c.
↩This earth comes from Kerbela, where is buried Hosséin, the idol, not of the Mussulmen in general, but of the Shyahs in particular, who call themselves Imamis, or Pontificals.
↩It is remarkable that the style of this prayer runs in the same strain as those petitions presented to Judges; and it ends in the same words used in filing a bill in a Court of Justice.
↩We are certain that both the imprecation and speech were mentioned at M8rsh8d-abad, full thirty days before any intelligence reached the city of Miren’s death; and incredible as it may look at this distance of time, this piece of news was stified at first; and what is singular, but true, that death was attributed to the machination, of the English, say, of the English Government, that had at all times taken much umbrage at that aspiring spirit of independence, so conspicuous in Miren’s words, still more than in his actions. It was asserted, that Mir-cassem-qhan, who had already made his treaty public, or private, with Holwell, Governor of Calcutta; and who could not compass his end, so long as Miren should stand in his way, was really at the bottom of the whole contrivance, (for contrivance it was called and not lightning); and this, together with the storm and darkness of the night, as well as the burning of the tent, was made use of as a curtain to conceal and colour the whole transaction. What gave a strong bias to the minds on that occasion is, that the Colonel himself seemed to have his doubts; and that Lushington, his confidant and interpreter, whom he sent to inspect the body, was refused admittance. Moreover, it is well known, that several officers of the Colonel’s family, and amongst others, Captain Carnac, who held the first rank in it, and was unquestionably a man of extensive knowledge, keen genius, and much information, spoke in strong terms of what they called this dark affair. Nevertheless, all those rumours, and all those doubts will vanish, when an impartial mind shall perpend the following facts duly. “1st.—The fact of the lightning is very probable. 2nd.—A body murdered and burned, or scorched, has quite another appearance, from one struck by lightning. 3rd.—Three men more were struck likewise; and these unquestionably had friends and acquaintances, who would have divulged every thing they might know or see. 4th.—The body itself was seen with legs and a head hanging for a whole day out of a hä8dah. 5th.—It was not buried immediately to disappoint curiosity and enquiry, but sent off to a spot, six days’ journey from thence, and exposed to a variety of prying eyes, in the many ablutions, fluicings, and other rites, to the number of twenty or thirty, which are required by the Mussulman law. 6th.—The contrivance was not reproached to Mir-cassem subsequently, and not even after his expulsion. 7th.—The report died away of itself, and like a popular rumour, to which a national jealousy against the prevalence of the English power, had given existence, as it does to-day as well as ever. The amazing prosperity of that nation in India, and indeed every elsewhere, being of a nature not to be easily forgiven by national envy, combined with human malignity.” But as this imprecation about the lightning, and the catastrophe by which it was followed, savour so much of the miracle, it must be remembered that the imprecation, May the lightning fall upon thee, is very common in Bengal. Bidjli giré teré 8ppar! Bidjli paré teré 8ppar!
↩The general profession of faith is that mentioned several times in the Koran, and it is this: There is no God but God, and Mohammed is His Messenger. To this the Mussulmen, of the Shyah sect, or as they style themselves, the Imamis or Pontificals, have added some hundred years after, the words: And Aaly is the Saint of God, as well as the heir and executor of the Messenger of God. This profession of faith is commanded to be pronounced in a lofty, loud tone of voice, with a particular emphasis, the body erect, the face turned towards Mecca, the left hand hanging at length, the right raised to the height of the breast, with all the fingers and thumb clenched, save the index which must point to the horizon and to Mecca; to all these conditions, the Shyahs add, the right foot advanced, as if going to set out.
↩A sentence of the Koran, often in the mouth of the oppressed.
↩These words signify the sun of the State.
↩Madras.
↩These words signify the Sun of the Empire, the valorous Succourer of the State.
↩It is to be remarked that the Emperors of India never speak of themselves but in the plural, whether in their letters or otherwise.
↩Moáviáh, son to Ab8-sofian, and cousin-german to Mohammed, whom he had served as Secretary, was the first who refused to acknowledge Aaly, the Prophet’s cousin and son-in-law, as his legitimate successor; he also transferred the Arabian Empire from the Prophet’s family to his own, which was that of Ommiah, but still a younger branch of Mohammed’s family.
↩These ceremonies are of etiquette, and consisted in pulling his hat, advancing at the very end of the hall, making a bow, presenting a Nuzur, (which was always declined as coming from an equal), and in embracing, and bringing the Navvab to a couch, where the two parties seated themselves together, and at the same time.
↩The Succourer of the State; the Distinguished of the Empire; the Valiant Mir-mahmed-cassem-qhan, ever Victorious in War.
↩The Valorous Mir-shemseddin, the Victorious of the State.
↩Muez-ed-döula, the Honoured of the State.
↩Hafyz-esrar-qhan is evidently a title, and signifies the Lord Rememberer of Secrets. But Mir-m8nshi itself is no more than a title, and signifies the Lord Secretary.
↩Gurghin is the Georgian and Persian way of pronouncing the Armenian word Kircor, which is a corruption of the Greek Grigor, or Gregorius. In Persian, this word of Gurghin would signify wolfish.
Alias Caja-petrus, for so was he styled by the English; he had been instrumental to Mir-djaafer-qhan, as his agent, both before and after the battle of Palassy. He died in 1782 with a great fortune, and the character of a serviceable, good natured, charitable man.
↩Assed-zeman-qhan, the Lord Lion of the times.
↩Rani signifies Queen, the consort of a Radja or King; and it is observable that Radjp8t Princes turning Mussulmen, as did this Zemindar’s ancestors, conserve ever after many of their old Gentoo customs, such as eating only with heir families, marrying within their families, giving Gentoo titles to their consorts, &c, &c.—for Rani is a Gentoo title.
↩The dam has had a variety of valuation. If it be equal to a peissa, then the Djaghir was equal to about fifteen thousand rupees, at forty peissas to a rupee.
↩Mons. Law. His name is pronounced Lass by the French.
↩This navy consisted of a fleet of boats and vessels, some of them equal to the largest European galleys, and was always built and furnished by the province of Dacca. This fleet was over and above the Coror of rupees sent yearly from Bengal to Delhi, and over and above a vast quantity of delicate stuffs. See the remark 2nd, Section 5th.
↩The reader is, doubtless, apprised that at Dacca are manufactured the finest linen in the world. We have seen two malmalls sold for 250 English crowns, and have had at home one that weighed about fourteen ounces, being twenty yards long, and one and-a-quarter broad. They are called ab revan, or running water, and shub-nem, or nightly dew, as being when wet, not discernible from either.
↩This Qhadja-vadjed, or, as his title imports, this (Faqhr T8djdjar), Glory of Merchants, lived in a state by much superior to that of a Governor-General, and equal to that of the present nominal Nazem of Bengal, Mubarec-ed-döulah. He had fifteen elephants, and fifty horses of value in his stables, with one hundred and twenty women in his seraglio, fifteen Chopdars, or Mace-bearers, and two hundred other servants; he was master of five ships, and of about two thousand boats, having the monopoly of the salt. What his fortune may have been, is not known; but he lived at the rate of a thousand rupees a day; and at one time he presented Aaly-verdy-qhan with fifteen lacs for his new year’s gift. Such were then the riches of Bengal, although salt sold only for thirty or forty rupees the hundred maunds.
↩This battle cost the lives of Seventy thousand Marhattas left on the spot; ?? ten thousand more were dispersed, but few escaped.
↩The leaf called Beetle by the English. In presenting and receiving these marks of regard, there is a great variety of niceties, which the English either ignore or neglect; but which, if neglected by a native, would render him ridiculous and liable to censure; the same may be said of embracing, and receiving the embrace. These niceties cannot be dispensed with.
↩That throne rests upon two straight bamboos, or poles, carried upon eight men’s shoulders. It may admit two or three men, and has not only a canopy over it, but an awning forward to intercept the glare of the sun.
↩The Valiant; the Glory of the State; the Victorious in War.
↩The word Factory, and Chief, ought not to mislead European readers. These factories are built like mighty palaces; and those Chiefs make Princely fortunes, and come abroad in more state than several Sovereigns of Europe.
↩The Qhotbah, which is pronounced every Friday, in the mosques and elsewhere, amounts to an oath of allegiance. See the remark, 7th section, 2nd vol.
↩Aaly-djah and Valah-djah are titles of the same import, as well as Imtias-el-djah. All these signify, the illustrious, sublime, or, if you will, the high-seated, or the man of high station, and dignity.
↩The European reader may possibly hear with surprise, that those fire-locks manufactured at Mongher, proved better than the best Tower-proofs, sent to India for the Company’s use; and such was the opinion which the English officers gave then, when they made the comparison by order of the Council of Calcutta. Their flints were all Radjemahl agates, and their metal more mellow. And even today, 1786, Colonel Martin, a Frenchman, who has greatly distinguished himself these twenty-two years in the English service, has, at Lucnow, a manufactory, where he makes pistols and fuzils better, both as to lock and barrel, than the best arms that come from Europe. The comparison had been repeatedly made; and Sir Elijah Impey, Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of Calcutta, carried to Europe one pair of those pistols.
↩Tabriz is the second city of Persia; and Coozza-calan is a town in its territory.
↩The author, who everywhere inveighs against that General, did not know, or did not mind, that he was as much a man of genius, as Mahmed-taky-qhan, but with more knowledge. It was he who trained and disciplined the Navvab’s cavalry, infantry, and artillery, in the English manner; and if half trained, as were those troops, a simple detachment of them fought, and defeated the troops of Major Castairs, which were full as numerous as those that won the battle of Palassy. What would he not have done, had he had ardelay of two years more, to train them thoroughly? It is probable that he would have ruined the English in time; for he was taking every measure which could render the Navvab independent. But so far was he from precipitating his master into a war with the English, that whenever he saw him impatiented at the haughtiness and pride of these strangers, he used to say: “Bear and forbear; you are not yet fledged. Reserve that anger, till the time when you shall have feathers to your wings.”
↩The word Mirza, which signifies high-born, always expresses, both in Persia and in India, a gentleman that can read and write, a qualification very scarce among the Mussulmen, although so common amongst Gentoos. This word signifies no more, when put before the name; but when after, it always signifies the Royal Prince such a one. Hence Mirza-shems-eddin signifies only Mr. Shems-eddin; but Shems-eddin mirza would signify the Royal Prince Shems-eddin.
↩The Arabian Emperors, successors of Mohammed, had made for several hundred years together, their residence at Bagdad, and were called Qhaliffs, or successors.
↩That expression signifies only numerous; for at no time did the Navvab have more than eixteen thousand cavalry, and twenty-five thousand infantry; one-half of which were accoutred and trained in the English manner; that is, as much so as Indians can be, when not under the eye and guidance of English officers.
↩The word spy implies nothing dishonourable in India; and the chief of these people is always a man of importance, nearly a Minister of the Foreign Department.
↩They never sign in India; at least, this is the case with the Mahometans; and as the date and place of the writer are never marked but upon the outside of the cover, where also they set the seal, which is nothing but the man’s name, stamped with printer’s ink, one may judge from thence how difficult it would be to authenticate any such letter in an European tribunal.
↩Rhotas is a fortress upon a rock, three leagues in circumference. It is lofty and craggy, and contains lakes, woods, pasture, meadow, arable, and woodland but the air is there so bad, as it is in all those kind of fortresses, so common all over India, that even the garrisons of natives require to be changed every fourth month.
↩Somro, who, as the chief man of the country, had a right, as is the custom all over India, to a portion of the booties made by those famous banditti of the Bodjp8r country, invited them all to an entertainment before the fort of Bacsar; and as they all came whilst he was exercising a regiment of Talingas, or sipahees, he at once made them load with ball, and falling at once with fixed bayonets upon those miscreants, he put them all to death, to the number of six hundred.
↩The Imam-bara, or Pontiff’s close, as those words import, is a square building two stories high, built by Seradj-ed-döula, for the purpose of celebrating the rites of the Muharrem in commemoration of the death of Hosséin, grand-son to the Prophet, who was slain at Kerbelah; that building is then finely illuminated with coloured fires placed behind glasses, and behind frames of coloured talk. All M8rsh8d-abad is in an uproar in those ten days; nor is there keeping even women at home. But there are several Imam-baras; and numbers of houses are occasionally turned to that use. Hosséin’s death is there represented with theatrical action round a grand catafalco.
↩The Shyah Mussulmen hold that the fifth of their revenue is due to the Séyds, or descendants of the Prophet; and this contribution is therefore called Qhoms. But all the other Mussulmen, (and these constitute the five-sixth of the whole) that is, all the Sunnies, believe only that a tenth of one’s revenue is due to the necessitous; and this charity is called Zecaat.
↩The fine words are these: There is no God, but God; and Mohammed, is His Missionary.
↩This month being that in which the pilgrimage was performed at Mecca (many centuries before Mohammed), was called the forbidden el-haram, because it was unlawful in that month to travel, that is, to wage war.
↩He who sits in the stead of Assef, Vezir to Suléiman, or Salomon.
↩The chop-dars, or staff-bearers, although originally a military guard, are now only civil officers, whose badge is a long, thick staff, plaited with silver. The yesáols are nearly the same. but in general, armed; but the Nissigh-chies are always so
↩Sihta-cond, or Sita-coon, is the name of a hill, or rather of a chain of hillocks, that overlook a lake of some miles in circuit, which last cannot be any thing else than the crater of a volcano, extinguished ages ago, but which yet is smoking; nor is that hill, as well as the ragged hills that surround that crater, any thing but lava; nay, the whole country round the lake, to the extent of several miles, is covered with lava, and the whole of that extent is inclined to, and verges towards, that lake very visibly. Nor does it seem to be any thing else but a ground that has subsided in former ages, when the rim of the crater came to tumble down in the gulf. The face of the adjacent country points out to that conjecture; and even now, there is an evident remain of a volcano, a small pool of boiling water, close to two cold ones; and this water boils only in the rainy season, when the subterraneous waters coming to rise to the level of a bed of pyrites and alum mixed with metals, excites a fermentation, which produces a conflagration, so as to emit flames and smoke. It appears, also, from tradition, that the citadel itself of Monghyr, must have been the mouth, or attenant to the mouth of a volcano, at two miles from the other; and this is so far true, that part of the ground, south of the fort, subsided in one night, about sixty years ago, full forty feet, and swallowed up a Gentoo temple, which Gentoos point out still with respect, as a spot to which old men go in pilgrimage, or bathe in the river that flows close to it.
↩The Fakirs of India are of all religions and persuasions; but the Sanyassees are all Gentoos, and moreover, naked, and almost always armed. Both go in droves of sometimes several thousands, and approve themselves very expert at plundering and at marauding, under pretence of begging. They overrun all Hindostan, nay, all India, as far as the island Ceilan, which is one of their pilgrimages to the south; as P8talo is another to the north, which is the residence of the great Lamma. They even go as far as China, and as far as Siberia, always ready to beg, trade, plunder, or steal by the way, as occasion serves. There is one sort amongst them called Nagas and Atits, who go always armed, and abstain from women, but who are reputed addicted to much worse practices; stealing boys, and turning them into Nagas, when grown up. However, it cannot be denied that there are Sanyassees, as well as Fakirs, that live in towns, as well as in the woods, where they undergo penances, that would beggar all description, and are past belief.
↩Latsa is one of the two capitals of Tebet, a country called B8tant in India, and Potya by the natives. P8tala is the other Capital.
↩The Paan-dan, which an Englishman would readily call the Betel-saucer, is an elegant box of ailver or gold, not unlike those crystal ones in which the English serve their butter at table. It is placed on an elegant plate of the same metal, and contains a number of byris, ready made up. The byri is composed of a few pieces of Paan, cut, (alias betel leaf), some very thin slices of Soopiary, (alias betel nut), some Chuna, (alias chunam), some Catt, (alias catchou), some grains of Ilachees, (alias cardamums) and some Dió8tri, (alias mace); the whole rolled together and formed into a pyramid, covered with a bit of Kela-leaf, (alias plantain), which is of a fine tender green, and as smooth and shining as the best satin. This pyramid, which is made fast by a Long, (alias clove), as by a pin, is called a byri. A single byri given, is a token of regard; two, of favor; the whole Paan-dan proffered, implies respect; placed before you, it implies equality. In presenting, and receiving Paan, there are twenty niceties, which the English either despise or ignore, but which are rigorously expected from a native.
↩It is observable that before the year 1767, or thereabouts, the natives of India considered all the Europeans as speaking the same language and professing the same religion; and as the Armenians, who wore a dress somewhat different, and were more mixed with the natives, spoke highly of themselves, as holding the same rank amongst them as Séyds amongst Musselmen, and Brahmans amongst the Gentoos; they were reputed, of course, a kind of Priests amongst the Europeans.
↩Two millions and-a-half sterling. Arcot coin signifies those rupees struck at Madras, or at Pondichery.
↩Dursun, in old Hindostany, signifies sight; but in the modern language, a bow of the head. A dursunni bill, then, is a bill at sight, with which the banker has no other party but that of signifying his submission, by bowing the head. Even so late as the year 1780, there were twelve hundred women in the seraglioes of the two remaining brothers, and about four thousand persons of all sorts in their palaces. But since the revolutions in Bengal, as well as all over india, their property has been made away with everywhere.
↩He was Mr. Amyatt’s speaker and linguist; but, having at the very first interview expressed himself with roughness, and been all the while looking at the Navvab with that imperiousness which was then the general style, that Prince refused to speak to him any more. Amyatt’s temper, air, looks, and tone of voice, as well as his style of speech, may be conjectured from that single ancedote. It is observable, that the few English, who in those days understood the Persian and Hindostany, (and Vansittart was master of the former) spoke it so strangely, and in such a tone of voice, that Mir-cassem, unable to understand Vansittart, was obliged to make use of a linguist.
↩It is very surprising, and quite unaccountable, that the author all this while should have only hinted, and that too very confusedly, at the real subject of discontent and war between the English and Mir-cassem. To the very day of the surprise of Patna, or, at least, as late as that period, the Company’s trade, the only one deemed mentioned in the Ferman, or Imperial Charter, had been held sacred by Mir-casem; but the English, who, before the battle of Palassy, had never had a boat-load of private trade, now covered all the rivers, and all the waters of Bengal, with their fleets, trading duty-free, upon such articles as afforded a certain subsistence to a multitude of natives, and a large revenue to the Government Custom-houses; such as tobacco, salt, beetle-nut, grain, &c., &c. an exemption, which by annulling the trade of the natives, gave a mortal stab to the finances of Government. Nor were the moderate English themselves, averse from acknowledging the Navvab’s supremacy on that private trade of theirs, so lately set up; and such were Vansittart and Hastings, who contended that, at the time of the Imperial Charter, and for ages after, not one boat of private English trade having had an existence in the country, that article of course was out of all question; and that the least that the Council could do, in justice to their owners, and to the Navvab, was to avoid, by all means, involving the nation in a war for such private concerns; it being safer and better to accept that license for private trade, as a favour from Government, or rather from the present complexion of the times, and to pay duty accordingly. Such an extension of the obvious sense of the Ferman, anciently given in favour of the English, was certainly a great condescension, as it put those foreigners upon a footing with the natives themselves. The fact is, however, that in reality, and with the condition, in appearance, submitted to by Vansittart, but in reality annexed thereto by that Governor, the English had a complete advantage over the natives. For, whilst these were liable to that infinity of small duties and stoppages over the waters of Bengal, (duties, which independently of the stoppages, amounted altogether to full 25 per cent.) the English themselves were only to pay 10 per cent. for once and all; and that duty once paid, their boats were exempted from all further stoppages and searches: an exemption which cannot be rated at less than ten per cent more; so that whilst the Company’s public trade remained free, boundless, and sacred, the private trade of their servants, which to that day had never existed, was admitted as lawful under the single duty of ten per cent., which ten per cent. would, in time, become only nominal.
Nothing can give a better insight into the temper of the English of those times, and of Mir-cassem-qhan’s subtle and extensive genius in particular, than the following fact, which I find but slightly mentioned in all the papers of those times, or that are relative to that period: The Navvab, to get rid of the persecutions of the English on their private trade, at once took to the bold and comprehensive expedient of publishing all over Bengal, a general abolition of all Custom-houses, tolls, and fees; and of granting a general indiscriminate exemption to all traders whatsoever. Could any thing be fairer with regard to the English? You want only to pay but a small duty at Hoogly, Dacca, Patna, &c. &c., I grant your demand, and add a great deal more. Pay none at all. I have supressed all duties whatever all over Bengal; nor does there exist now a single object for our quarrelling together. Here the Navvab suspected that the general exemption would infallibly favour only his own subjects, who living and subsisting so much on a lower scale than the English, would infallibly undersell them in all the markets, and of course expel them from everywhere. But this was at once guessed by the English of those times; who, in full Council, had the front to contend, that in order to comply fully with the sense and spirit of their Ferman or charter, the Navvab ought to free all English trade, (to wit, their private trade, as an exemption for the Company’s trade was admitted on all hands) to free it, I say, from all duty and all shackles whatever, whilst he should be bound to continue them on his own subjects. An extravagant and tyrannically absurd proposition this! That a Sovereign Prince should have no right to grant to his own subjects, an exemption claimed, and at last obtained, by foreigners. Vansittart and Hastings contended, that it was unworthy the dignity of the English Government, to make such a proposal, and shocking to go to war for it. Batson and Johnstone, with Amyatt and his party, seriously contended that the Navvab had not such a right; and it was because Vansittart and Hastings declared they could not think of setting down such a proposal, that the latter was saluted with the atrocious sarcasm: That such a reluctance, and such an objection, would suit better a vakeel or agent of the Navvab’s, than a Member of this Board. As if by law and charter, as well as by convenience, every Member of such a Board had been under an absolute obligation of being extravagantly absurd, and tyrannically overbearing; of arrogating every thing to themselves, and denying every thing to others, that is, of trampling under foot the most obvious and most acknowledged rights of mankind.
This was the state of things for which Vansittart and Hastings contended; this was the cause of that shocking fracas which happened in that assembly, otherwise so august; and this was the reason of that animosity of all the council against them. This condescension of theirs gave rise to that calumny, so universally talked of in those times, as if they had sold themselves to Mir-cassem for twenty-two lacs of rupees; a sum, which after all, is but one-fourth of those Princely fortunes which we have seen so often since that time. But the fact is, that those men who contended for so reasonable a submission, (and they traded themselves largely) and had constantly refused to involve the nation in a war for such trifling concerns, now were branded with such an atrocious imputation; and yet those two men went to Europe in indifferent circumstances. Hastings was poor, literally so; and Vansittart was far from being rich. Nine or ten lacs could not be deemed a fortune for a man, who had brought a lac into Bengel, and had for four years together, enjoyed a salary of two lacs and-a-half.
All these matters were known to a few at the time; but they came fully to light when Vansittart landed in England, and when assaulted by an infinity of calumnies, he made the Directors understand, and with them the whole nation, that what Amyatt’s party in all their public and private letters, constantly called the English trade, was nothing else than the private trade of their own party, set up these four or five years past.
It must be added, that nothing was more common then, than to see English agents of all colours and denominations, (and they swarmed then in every part of Bengal) take up the farm of a town, mart, village, or district, hoist up the English flag on it of their own private authority, pay to the Navvab such a rent as they chose to part with, keep the rest to themselves, and act meanwhile as the most relentless, rapacious tyrants, setting at defiance the Navvab’s authority everywhere, and in every instance. Nor are all these allegations a vain declamation. As soon as the English themselves became masters of the country, and took possession of it in their own names, the evils so much complained of by the Navvab as unsufferable, having come home to themselves, they first of all abolished all exemption of duties, as granted once to their own servants; that is, they abolished, as Sovereigns, the very exemption for which they had gone to war, as merchants; and even this law having proved far from adequate to the evil, the Company’s servants, or their dependants, having it in their power to evade its operations in a thousand obvious ways, the hatchet at last was brought forth, and put to the root of the tree. Their servants were strictly forbidden from trading, directly or indirectly, in the inland country, in any article whatever; and strict injunctions were given to the Governors in India, for preventing their being concerned as farmers or lessees of any duty, town, village, or district, whatever; nor have those two laws, severe as they are, produced a complete effect, although they have gone far that way.
↩The bamboo, called bhanss by the natives, seems to be admirably fitted by nature for a ladder, there being nothing of its lightness so strong and so tough, as that reed. A bamboo of 100 feet in length, upon five or six inches in diameter, at the bottom; or of 130 feet in length, upon seven or eight in diameter, at the bottom, (and we have seen and measured such bamboos) may be easily carried by one weak man. This blessing, which has been denied to our whole Continent, has been plentifully bestowed on all the countries from the Indus to China, and to the ocean. This singular production, by its root and knots, resembles a reed; and by its leaf, loftiness, and branching out, resembles a tree. It is the transition between the reed kind and the tree kind.
↩Such is the name given to a rabble, without house or home, and even without any precise calling. They follow armies, and subsist by rapine and plunder, whenever they can; and whenever they dare not, by begging, cutting grass for the cavalry, or bringing fuel-wood.
↩Fatwa is a town at four cosses from Azim-abad to Patna, with a bridge over the Poon-poon, a muddy deep river, that falls below it in the Ganga.
↩The author betrays here and there much neglect about facts, which he had it in his power to investigate fully; or else, he seems strangely prejudiced against the Armenians in general. It was Marcar who proposed attacking the English, without giving them time to breathe. This Armenian had served in Holland, and in more than one occasion has approved himself possessed of a very eminent qualification in a General: taking his party suddenly, in sudden emergencies. He is now in Calcutta, subsisting upon the benevolence of his countrymen. He is a well-looking, square-set man; very strong.
↩What to think of this narrative of our author’s, but that he was then far from the scene of action, or possibly wrote this narrative some years later? The Navvab’s order being to send Amyatt with his retinue to Monghyr, Mahmed-taky-qhan betook himself to the following expedient, to execute the commission with ease, and without tumult: Being then encamped on the Bagraty, between M8rsh8d-abad and Cassimbazar, as soon as the boats were descried, he sent his friend and steward, Aga-aaly-toork, to invite Amyatt to an entertainment. Amyatt excused himself, and continued pushing in the middle of the stream. Another message was sent by a person of still greater consequence, who represented, that the entertainment being ready, the General would think himself aggrieved by the disappointment. Amyatt, having again excused himself, the envoy returned; and, on his landing, the boat-men were hailed from shore, and ordered to bring to. This order was answered by two musket-balls, and then by a volley, which being answered from shore, the boats were immediately boarded, and such a scene of slaughter ensued, as is hardly to be described; as Amyatt, by his eternal instigations, as well as by his very haughty temper, was reputed the author of the rupture. All these particulars I know from the report then general; from Aga-aaly, who has been my friend and neighbour, for full sixteen years; from the Secretary and servants of the General’s; and lastly, from three women, from amongst the five sets of dance-girls, that had been assembled on the occasion.
↩If we remember rightly, the author has committed here an anachronism of some months. As soon as news came to Calcutta, that the Navvab, to rid himself of the exorbitant demands of the English, who insisted on an unlimited freedom of trading everywhere, and in every article, duty-free (not excepting grain, salt, tobacco, and beetle-nut, wares which they had never dared to meddle with); that the Navvab, I say, had come to the resolution of quashing the whole difference at once, by publishing a total freedom of duty for all boats whatever, of what nation or denomination soever; the Council of Calcutta, now composed almost totally of Amyatt’s party, assembled, and vigorously objected to that unlimited freedom, granted to all nations, as being of a nature to wrong the English trade, (this being the cant word) and it meant the Company’s trade, which, by the bye, was totally unconcerned in the different and its consequences. They insisted that such an unlimited exemption was contrary to the interests of the nation, as well as to the spirit of their Ferman, unless he continued to exact rigorous duties on his own subjects, and on all foreigners, leaving, at the same time, an unlimited freedom to every thing that should carry an English flag. This pretension struck with amazement both Vansittart, and Warren Hastings, which latter was then the youngest Member of the Council. He observed, that there was no colour of reason for requesting of a Sovereign Prince, that he should refrain from doing good to his own subjects. This observation was taken up by Stanlake Batson, who, instead of refuting it, answered that, “Such a reflection became much better the agent of the Navvab’s, than a Member of this Board.” Hastings replied, “That none but rascals could hold such a language. The reply produced a blow, but they were soon parted. In the evening Hastings sent a challenge to Batson. The parties met; they fought and both missed their antagonist. The seconds interposed, by engaging Batson to make a concession; and this affair was put an end to, by two common friends. Others denied that a duel had taken place; but all agreed that a challenge was sent by Hastings, and that concessions were made by Batson.
↩It is a fact, well known, that a few hours after the visit, several people of the better sort both English and natives, affirmed that on the Governor’s going away he wished the old Navvab joy, for, or as the Persian has it, he gave him the good wind of the Sovereignty of Bengal. Much obliged to you, answered the old man, and in return I give you the good wind of several hundreds of English made prisoners, or massacred.
↩This army, which did not amount to a thousand healthy English, was commanded by Major Adams, and under him, by Major Carnac; and as personal anecdotes will give a thorough insight on the temper of those times, those two Commanders, who had that day dined at the house of a considerable merchant (Mr. Beaumont) having got up immediately after the dessert, shook hands with the company, and then amongst themselves, protesting that if ever they came back, it would be after having fully revenged the English cause. After this animating scene, they set out together for the army.
↩This strange expression is literally translated.
↩This detachment was of a Battalion of Sipahis, and of one field-piece, commanded by a Lieutenant Glenn, one of the bravest men ever produced by that country of his, so fertile in intrepid men, and in courageous animals. He was vigorously attacked, and did defend himself as vigorously. He was carrying a supply of a lac of rupees to Major Adams, who commanded the English army. Three times he lost his cannon and lac, and three times did he recover them; and at last he carried them to the English camp, after one of the best disputed actions throughout that war.
↩On the first wouud he received through his shoulder, he cried out in anguish, ya Aaly, O! Aaly. Aga-aaly, his steward and townsman, as well as our friend and neighbour, advised him to retreat and go back. Go back, answered he, and after that, shew again this black beard to Mir-cassem-qhan? Never, added he, stroaking it at the same time, never. On receiving the second ball through his head, he screamed out ya Aaly, again, and fell down, with these words in his mouth: Had the others obeyed………….
↩The war-cry with most Mohametans is Allah Ecber, Great God! In India it is Din, Din Mohammed, (Mohammed’s Religion) which the French have not failed to translate by the words tne, tue, pour Mahomet.
↩Several officers that had been in that engagement, affirmed a few days after the battle, that the English had really been defeated at Sò8ty, but for the turn which the engagement took in the end. But, at M8rsh8d-abad, and at Calcutta, the universal report was, that two hundred Europeans, of all nations, who served the enemy’s artillery, could not behold the distress of the English, without being affected, and that they passed all to their side. It was even said, that they were hailed by the English Officers, and asked whether they were not Europeans as well as themselves?
As to the singular manner in which the author talks of fixed bayonets, it becomes probable, (and this surmise is corroborated by numbers of similar passages) that the author having wrote his narrative at that very time, did not touch it in the sequel (19 years after) when he had acquired undoubtedly a full acquaintance with that kind of arm.
↩An Hocca, called Hoocaw, by the English, is a bottle of clay or metal, full of water, through which the smoke of the tobacco is sipped up, after having lost in the passage much of its bitterness, and moreover acquired a pleasing coolness. The chimney is inserted at the top of the vessel, but it is by the means of a pipe, made of tin wire, covered with cloth, which pipe descends vertically within the bottle, whilst a branch of it bending outwards, and springing from it, is carried to the mouth. This machine, which is quite common, presents an apparatus equally simple and ingenious, and a contrivance equally cleanly, commodious, and elegant. There are hoccas worth thousands of rupees. The branch springing up, is sometimes ten feet in length, and carefully wetted with rose-water; nor is the tobacco in the chimney without a preparation of rose-water, aromatics, odoriferous drugs, and sugar.
↩The Djagat-seat-mahtab-ráy was drowned there, from a tower of the castle. His favourite servant, Chunni, desired, supplicated, intreated, to be made fast with his good master, or thrown before him, and could not obtain that favour; so that he threw himself at last after his master had, in vain, descended to the lowest supplications to obtain his forbearing. These particulars I know, not only from a general report at that time, but also from a relation of Chunni’s, one Bab8ram, a man of some note, who then lived in Djagat-seat’s palace, and has been ten years in my service.
↩Grand Almoner, an office of great trust, and high emolument.
↩Grenadiers.
↩The tapers or flambeaux in India are made up with rags, occasionally besprinkled with oil.
↩Mir-cassem lost full fifteen thousand men in that surprise and flight and what must give a high opinion of the talents occasionally brought forth by the Officers of India, (those men sometimes so slightly thought of in Europe) is the variety of ingenious contrivances, employed for a month together by Major Adams; he had never served in Europe, and yet, finding the post at 8d8a-nala too strong to be attacked openly, he, by the mere strength of his genius, betook himself to the expedient of saving his men, by opening trenches in form, and pushing regular advances; and this man, who had heard or read of fascines, but had never seen any, now contrived to advance by sap. Such are the Officers of India! and such the exertions which continual necessity gives birth to. This was also the first time the Bengalees saw an enemy advance close to the foot of a fortification, without being seen so much as once.
↩According to the Mahometans, this world is divided from the other by an immense chasm, over which runs an immense arch, as thin and as sharp as the edge of a sabre-blade. The sinners who shall not have repented, and shall not have altered their sinful lives, will walk trembling over it, and at last will tumble down in the abyss below, which is attenant to the gates of Hell. But the just shall walk over steadily, and shall reach the opposite shore, which is close to the entrance of Paradise. This arch, so dreaded by all Mussulmans, is called the Bridge of Serat.
↩The causes, which no one dared to mention, are a conspiracy, said to be brewing by Gurghin-qhan, incited underhand by the English. His brother, Aga-bedross, alias Codja-petruss, then residing at Calcutta, and an acquaintance of Governor Vansittart’s, as well as of Mr. Warren Hastings, had, on their joint request, wrote pressingly to his brother, to engage him by all the motives which religion and a regard for his own safety could suggest, to lay hold of the person of Mir-cassem-qhan, or at least, to come himself to the English camp with his own troops and friends. But this negotiation having been somehow smelt out by Mir-cassem’s head-spy, he came at one o’clock in the morning, ordered him to be waked, and laying hold of him by the arm, What are you doing in your bed, said he, whilst your General, Gurghin-qhan, is actually selling you to the Frenghies? He is of intelligence with those without, and possibly with those within, with your prisoners. Such was then the general report at that time; and, I remember, that the very purport of the letter was handed about by the Armenians of Calcutta. As to the Moguls murmuring for their pay, as pretends our author, their plea must have been a fictitious one; for, the author himself says, that the army had been mustered and paid a week before. It is also certain, that there never was the least murmuring amongst the troops, as they were regularly paid as late as the passage over the Ceremnassa. This much is certain, that it was this rumour of a conspiracy that put Mir-cassem on one hand upon dispatching his General, and, on the other, upon ridding himself of his prisoners of all sorts; and some such things appear, not only in that Prince’s speech to Ferhat-aaly, but also in our author’s narrative, who positively says, that the English prisoners had found means to provide a quantity of money, with a sufficiency of amunition and arms. As to that Gurghin-qhan, upon whom our author, out of natural antipathy, or for some other cause, is endlessly pouring a deal of abuse, it appears evidently, that he was a man of superior talents, and a soaring genius. What are we to think of a seller of cloth by the yard, who conceives and executes the scheme of disciplining troops in the European manner; of making better cannon, and better muskets than the English themselves: of casting, mounting, and training an artillery, nearly equal to theirs; of introducing order, subordination, and discipline, amongst people totally strangers to them? Had Mir-cassem-qhan possessed three more such geniuses, as Mahmed-taky-qhan, and Gurghin-qhan, and Nedjef-qhan, it is highly probable that the author of these remarks would have never worne an embroidered malmal worth fifty rupees on his back, nor stuck a poniard of jewel-work in his sash. Gurghin-qhan was a man born at Ispahan, the capital of Persia, and had a very remarkable physiognomy. He was above the ordinary size, strong built, with a very fair complexion, large black eyes, full of fire, an aquiline nose, forming a ridge in the middle of its length, and eyebrows very arched, that joined together, so as to form a point going downwards towards the nose. He was then aged about thirty-six, and I have spoke twice to him. Nothing was wanting to that man to render him capable of shining, even in Europe, but education; he owed every thing to his own genius, and nothing to art or cultivation.
Here again, as in a number of singular instances, it appears evidently that the author had wrote his narrative upon the spot, or very little after, and never had thought of re-touching it; for surely English bayonets, and Gurghin-qhan’s murder, as well as his brother’s exhortations, became subsequently too public, and too common objects, to be spoken of in so obscure a manner as does our author.
↩This answer, which has been translated scrupulously, may signify either that they were going to bury the man by the Navvab’s order, or that he had been killed by the Navvab’s order. The former is quite improbable, not only as it was too small an object for his attention, (and indeed this care bolonged to the deceased’s servants) but as he was actually flying himself in the utmost perturbation of mind, and flying without knowing whither; so that the question being, Are you carrying a lady there? The answer, of course, must have been, No, it is a dead man; and this man is Gurghin-qhan himself, who has been put to death by the Navvab’s order.
↩The author’s narrative on these two brothers may be true; but unquestionably it is against the universal report of those times; and, out of ten thousand boat-men that pass every year by a certain tower of the castle of Mongher, there is not a man but will point it out as the spot where the two Djagat-seats were drowned; nor is there an old woman at Mongher, but will repeat the speech of the heroical Chunny, to his master’s executioners. It must be remembered, that the author, without ever re-touching his work in the sequel, wrote at a time, and in an army, where it was not safe to talk of such matters, and to make so many inquiries.
↩Somro was a German, and a Lutheran; but the Indians, and indeed, the Persians, reckon all the Europeans, whom they design by the general name of Frenghees, to have but one country, one religion, and one language. Lushington, although much wounded, ran at a man who had shot him, and, having wrenched the sabre out of his hands, he cut him down. The next morning, when they came to bury the bodies, they found Gulston breathing and in spirits, and they talked of saving him; but the young man having given them much abusive language, and threatened them with a severe revenge, he was taken by the legs, and thrown with the others, promiscuously in the fossé.
The next year, after that catastrophe, and it was in 1765, I remember to have seen, both at Banares, and at M8rsh8d-abad, three or four Commanders, who had refused the commission with indignation. One of them, an elderly stout man, with a large pair of whiskers, speaking to a company where I was, expressed himself in these words: I did not refuse to do it; no: I only desired the Navvab to give them swords and bucklers, and that I would fight them then; but, as to killing prisoners disarmed, that I will never do.—Send your scavengers for that business. This last part of the speech alludes to a particular custom in India, where scavengers, and none else, perform the business of executioners; and every body knows that these people are suffered only in the outskirts of villages and towns, and that they are held in so much horror, that no man without forfeiting his clan, that is, without incurring damnation in this world and the other, and without being renounced by his wife, children, relations, and kindred, can either eat with them, or eat of what they have touched, or indeed touch them; even being too near them is reputed uncleanliness.
↩This name signifies Saint Madman, and is a specimen of the whimsical names, which men assume in India, when they turn Fackirs. See the remark 76, section 8.
↩These Qhóans are trays three feet long, and two broad, elegantly railed in, and ingeniously painted and gilt, as well as covered with a fringed towel of rich embroidery. The etiquette is to bring them close to the receiver, and the steward, or a man of distinction, raising one corner of that covering, gives him just a glimpse of the contents, and no more; the bon ton being only to cast a glance at them, and to continue the conversation.
↩The Amharry differs from the Háodah in this, that the former has a canopy, and is calculated for travelling and for State; whereas the latter has no cover, and is for war.
↩The expression of lady-jewels, and men-jewels, has been literally preserved, to give the reader a glimpse of the Hindostany idiom on that head.
↩This anecdote, which is literally translated, shews the high respect paid to learning in India, and to that man in particular. But there is a great deal more than this anecdote. Shudjah-ed-döula and Mir-cassem having repeated the visit, as if to take their leave, were honoured with the Qhylaat of a rich Dopata each; and this was bound round their turbant, not by the holy man himself, but by his steward. Nor did he stand up for them, whereas both these Princes, as well as the Emperor, had bowed profoundly to him. This man, who had always a large number of servants, and lived well, and made presents to Sovereigns at the head of mighty armies, as one who confers marks of honour, was reputed to have a familiar genius that brought him money, or at least to be master of the Philosophical Stone. He spent a thousand rupees per month; but at his death he was found to be reduced to his last thirty-four mohurs or double guineas, whether his familiar, sensible of his approaching end, had ceased his supply, or his servants had made away with the rest. He was aged eighty-two, and preserved his senses to the very last—See remark 80, section viii.
↩A chó8pala is to a paleki, what a waggon is to a coach.
↩His German name was Somers. After having parted with Mir-cassem-qhan, for Shudjah-ed-döulah, he quitted the latter, for turning independent. This adventurer, at the head of six or seven thousand disciplined sipahees, and a train of sixteen pieces of cannon, was courted by all the Powers of Hindostan, who by turns were endeavouring to have him in their service. He died in Nedjef-qhan’s army, immensely rich. His wife, called the Begum, was a womanr of uncommon genius.
↩Aaly-djah signifies the high-seated; the man of high station and dignity. It was Mir-cassem’s principal title.
↩A serpitch is a piece of jewel-work, composed of three oval or circular pieces, worn flat upon the forepart of the turband, but so as that the drop which hangs from the middlemost and largest piece, may play upon the forehead. The culghi is an Indian aigret, worn a little inclined in the middle of the turband, on the forepart. But the djica, which is of Persian origin, is always worn sideways vertically. Look at the remarks 193, section III, and 296, section IV.
↩A Mesned implies a throne; and is a piece of furniture never used, but by Sovereigns, or by people in high commands; and lastly by bridegrooms, a maidenhead being then deemed, and also styled, a kingdom.—Look at the remark 273, section 4th.
↩A Fakir’s cap in general is like a sugar-loaf, very pointed; at other times, it is conical. A Fakir’s dress is a fantastical one, of a particular cut, if any at all, but by all means a brick-coloured one; or else, it consists of a kind of short cloak made up of an infinity of stuffs of various sizes, colours, and shapes.
↩The Day of the Sacrifice is always a of day rejoicings and of visits; but by all means a day of new clothes, and of reconciliation, of pardon, concessions and forgiveness. Nor is the sacrifice acceptable to God Almighty, or its merits attributed, if there should remain a single one unsatisfied.
↩The actual Princess, the reigning Princess, and also the Princess Navvab.
↩A qhass-tent is an apartment made up like a tent indeed, but with the roof and walls entirely of mats, one inch thick, and entirely of qhass, a kind of reedy grass, that strikes deep into the ground, and which, whether dry or besprinkled with water, never fails to emit an agreeable smell. The hottest wind, by passing through the interstices of the contexture of the mats, assumes all the coolness of a zephyr, at the very time, when at ten yards from thence, that very wind seems to blow out of the mouth of an oven, and kills abundance of people. These tents, whether in town or in the field, are used only in what is called the hot months in India, that is, in April, May, and June; for by the end of the latter month, the rains fall in abundance, and effectually cool the air. See No. C. section 15th.
↩He was a man of genius, and a great friend of Mir-cassem’s. Those words, after all, must be only a title; for they signify the Lord Rememberer, or keeper of secrets.
↩Mia-yssa, or Mr. Christ, would be the right translate of that name.
↩Over and above certain nationalities, easily distinguishable in the several dominions of India, for instance, amongst the Marhattas, Sycks, Bengalees, Rohillas, and Moghuls, all which have a peculiar manner that differs greatly from that of others, it may be said that there are in India as many ways of rolling up a turbant as there are men, although in general the style is so very gracious, that no coeffure in the world can be compared to it for accompanying elegantly a face; and a turbant worn by a pretty woman is really distressing, and operates like downright magic; by which word is meant a real Indian turbant, and not that clumsy, awkward invention so called in Europe.
↩Now Assef-ed-döulah, the reigning Prince at Lucknow.
↩An eshreffy is a double guinea and-a-quarter.
↩Saadet-qhan and Abol-mansor-qhan, the maternal and paternal ancestors of Shudjah-ed-döulah, constantly wore the Indian dress, although Persians born themselves. But Shudjah-ed-döulah having passed a whole year in the camp and Court of the Abdali-king, whether out of compliment to him, or otherwise, took a liking to the Persian dress, which is become in winter the Court-dress at Delhi and Lucknow; for it is the Court of Herat and Candahar, that gives now the ton to those two Indian capitals.
↩Mir-cassem was far then from having Shudjah-ed-döulah in his power; but he had had him before, and it would have been very easy then to have struck a mighty blow. Mir-cassem being then encamped about Banares, Shudjah-ed-döulah, who had fatigued himself with hunting, plunged into the Ganges to bathe, and in the same breath, took into his head to pay him a visit. With a dozen of attendants, he got into a boat and crossed over. This was a critical moment; it was remarked by many of Mir-cassem’s servants, who pointed to the opportunity of making away with that Prince instantly, after which his army, destitute of a leader, would soon be brought over. I am not a m8zi, a perfide, an injurer, answered Mir-cassem, let him come alone, if he will; he will be no less safe from all double dealings. All these particulars I know, not only from several of Shudjah-ed-döulah’s servants, but from those of Mir-cassem’s also, and from two of the proposers, whom I spoke to the very year after the battle of Bacsar, when I went to Ilah-abad, &c., &c.
↩This ring, amongst an infinity of properties, had that of turning the wearers into any shape they chose to assume; it could also render them invisible.
↩Mir-djaafer was then past seventy-four. He died not only of old age, but also of leprosy; an appearance which the Lues very frequently assumes in Bengal, where by the bye, leprosy itself is as common as in Egypt, and much with the like symptoms.
↩The Crown of created beings is Mohammed, who nevertheless styles himself, and is often styled by the most ancient Mussulmen writers, the Ignorant Prophet or the Idiot Prophet, doubtless with a view to give the greater weight to the divine impulse under which he acted. This much is certain, that he has approved himself, not only an excellent Soldier and a great Captain, but that he appears to have been one of the keenest and most subtile geniuses that ever existed. In his travels in Syria, where he conversed with the Greeks, and in his many trips to and from Mecca, which was then full of Persis or Persians, he had collected lights enough to conclude that those two potent Empires were then really verging to their ruin; and it is, upon such a survey, that he had himself framed his scheme of giving the first shock or pull, and to conquer them both; a project which was fully known to his three successors, and relations, who made haste to pursue that object, and at last completed it in less than thirty years. As to his mental power, as writer or compositor, this man, whom the Arabians of those times, as well as the Christians of all ages, accuse of having wrote under the dictate of we know not what ignorant obscure Jews and Parsis, has actually sent into the world a book written in such an extraordinary manner, as is to this day inimitable, and never fails to amaze every one of those who can read it, or even hear it read. People talk of the melody and roundness of Tully’s Periodes; and they deserve that encomium. But Tully was one of the learnedest geniuses of his age, and a man exerced in oratory; whereas the Periodes of the Idiot Prophet are still smoother and rounder; but they have another singularity, which the Roman had never so much as thought of; they are so singularly equipoised, so elegantly cadenced, and so richly rhymed, that although you cannot deny that you are reading prose, you feel nevertheless all the charms of the most melodious Poetry; and this cadence, this richness of rhyme, this melody of composition, runs throughout the whole book, from end to end. If we come to admit that the deity has at any time condescended to speak immediately to mankind, what are we to think that it did so in the most melodious strains that ever flowed from the mouth of man: or only that it spoke in the homeliest, ugliest, most indecent, and most desultory language that ever disgraced paper? But what is singular, the Prophet ignorant had himself such a high opinion of his own book, that when the Meccans used to ask him for a miracle in proof of his mission, he always proposed the elegance and excellence of the Coran, as a proof unanswerable; and when they accused it of its being dictated to by a, I know not what, Selman the Jew, and Behroz the Parsi, he would ask them, whether they really believed that two such foreigners could have wrote so elegant a composition in Arabic? It is universally acknowledged, that Mahomet even in his lifetime and independently of all inspiration, passed for a man of the keenest genius and the greatest knowledge.
↩Aristotle is all over the East reputed to have been the Vezir or Prime Minister of Ascander-makedon, Alexander the Macedonian.
↩A sentence of the Coran often in the mouths of the afflicted and distressed.
↩So called from a drop (Durr) which they originally wore at one of their ears. This appellation and badge was given by Ahmed-shah, the first Abdalli-king, to a body of two thousand guards, which were raised by way of tax from every house in his dominions that had an Habeshinian, or a Georgian, or a Calmac slave. In time this appellation came to be extended by the Hindostanies from the body-guards to the whole army, and from the army to the whole nation. For the real name of the latter is that of Afghan-Abdallies, a branch of Afghans who has swallowed up the whole nation, and founded a powerful monarchy that comprehends the eastern parts of Persia, southern of Euzbeg-Tartary, and western of Hindostan They are mostly cavalry, wear the Persian dress, speak the Peshto language, (but the Persian is the language of the Court) and can bring a hundred and fifty thousand very hardy and very courageous troopers into the field.
↩The word Sheh-zada must not be confounded with that of Shah-zada, which last signifies King’s son or Imperial Prince. The former signifies a person descended from Arabian adventurers, or from Gentoo converts; and a very large quarter of Lucknow is inhabited by such people. They are brave, united, and marry only amongst themselves.
↩Silks adorned with gold or silver flowers, ma de in great perfection at G8djrat, but imitated likewise at Banares.
↩Five or six thousand men perished or were slain in the action, but ten thousand or more stuck in the mire, or perished in the retreat; and two years after, the town of Bacsar, the fields, and the muddy shores of the river, for miles together, were beset with bones.
↩Fáiz-abad, a city founded by Saadet-qhan, maternal grandfather to Shudjah-ed-döulah, and added to the very ancient city of A8d. It is now in ruins, being built like all the cities and towns of India with mud and straw, or with sunburnt bricks, with here and there a brick or stone building.
↩The Mucasdar was the Governor who resided in a province in the name of the Emperor of the Marhattas, and collected for him the Chö8t or fourth of the product of the country, whilst the Nazem collected the other three-quarts for his master, the Emperor of Hindostan. This Nazem was the Military Governor of the province, and had the command of the troops and fortresses, as well as the distribution of justice; whereas the Divan was only the intendant of the country, or the collector and distributer of the revenues. When these two distinct officers were joined in one person, this person was called the Sobah-dar.
↩The original has wall-breaking cannon.
↩Not only the Gentoos or Hindoos abstain scrupulously from any victuals touched by an European, or indeed by any one, but those of their own tribe; but the Mussulmen themselves, although by no means under such a prohibition retain that custom; and indeed well they may; for they are themselves nothing but Gentoo converts. As to the Mussulmen of other countries, (except the Persians) for instance, the Turks and Arabes, they have no idea of such a repugnance.
↩This ring, called Nutt, and the only part of the Indian finery which Europeans cannot bring themselves to like, is always the distinctive ornament of the mistress of the house. It is that which the bride-groom never fails to send to his bride; and the article on which fall most debates at that time. Not that but other ladies of the Seraglio wear it equally; but it is always reputed by the consent of the mistress of the house, unless they be consorts themselves. This ring which is of gold may be half a line in thickness, upon a circumference of about our inches; and it is passed through the left cartilage of the nostrils. At th?? part of the metal are two round pearls of value, divided only by a ruby som?? flattened. The mistress of the house wears this ring only when she please?? a distinction as well as the hocca, or Indian smoking pipe; but the last is?? allowed, unless she has been once pregnant.
↩That office, by giving the command of the guards of the citadel?? palace necessarily confers the disposal of the Emperor’s person.
↩