AGRA.
The call of trumpets sounding gaily awoke Siddha from his morning
sleep, and, on springing up and looking out of the window, he saw the
great court before the castle filled with horsemen, half of whom were
occupied in unsaddling their horses, while the others were mounting
and forming in line. These, with whom our travellers were to continue
their journey, were on the point of starting for Agra, to relieve the
soldiers just arrived; and amongst them Siddha saw his servant waiting
with his grey charger. It took him but a few minutes to finish his
preparations for the journey, and he was in the saddle some moments
before Kulluka and the Governor appeared. But in the meantime, before
the cavalcade moved off, Siddha found an opportunity to ride round the
corner of the bastion to the balcony towards which, the day before,
he had so often and so vainly looked. This time it was not in vain,
for between the plants that covered the balcony he caught sight of
a well-known figure, dressed in white, who at his approach waved a
handkerchief in the gentle breeze; and as he drew nearer, she let it
slowly fall; but he, quickly turning his horse, caught it on the point
of his lance. It was one of the brightly coloured tissues of Kashmir,
fine as a spider's web, well calculated to be the despair of all
the weavers in the world, and as easily drawn through a finger-ring
as bound into a turban. He quickly pressed to his lips this parting
gift so precious to him; then, binding it to the hilt of his sabre,
he waved a farewell, and in a few bounds had rejoined his travelling
companions. Salhana accompanied his guests for a short distance, and
then took leave, telling his nephew that he hoped before long to see
him again, as in a few days he thought of visiting Agra himself. Our
travellers continued their way, in company with the commanding officer
of the detachment.
The journey lasted for more than one day, generally by or near the
banks of the Jamuna, and led through sandy plains, where stones were
more frequently met with than trees, though sometimes they came to
lovely hills clad in green. At length the evening of their last halt
came, at a short distance from Agra, and on the following morning a
short ride took them to the city of the Emperor, the view of which
more than repaid them for the weariness of their journey.
In a semicircle on the opposite shore of the river, lay, between
garden and fortification, the long row of palaces and mosques, which
made, at this time and for long after, Agra, or Akbarabad, one of
the most beautiful as well as one of the most magnificent cities in
the world. In the middle, standing above all, as brooking no rivalry,
stood the palace of the Emperor. [58] The central building, which from
the delicate joining of its red, smooth-polished sandstones, seemed
hewn from a cloud of granite glittering in the sunshine, was surrounded
on all sides by small pleasure-houses and thick clumps of trees. This
building, from its colossal size, with its numerous cupolas, and slight
towers, with their delicate tracery visible against the blue sky, could
not fail to strike the beholder with wonder and admiration. Around
the central palace were the pleasure-houses of the great courtiers, of
rich noblemen and prosperous citizens, and mosques with their cupolas
and minarets, while here and there a few solitary temples were the
only witnesses of a civilisation whose ascendancy belonged to the past.
The beauty of the view made the travellers draw rein, and gaze on
it with delight. One man alone, a mighty conqueror and deep-thinking
reformer, had, as though by magic, called this splendour and beauty to
life, as it were, from the barren plain. A feeling of anxiety crept
over Siddha as he thought how soon he would meet him, and perhaps
exchange a few words, formal though they might be.
On reaching the other side of the river, they took leave of the officer
who had been their travelling companion, and, with their servant,
made their way to a house that had been hired for them by a friend
of Kulluka. It was simply but tastefully and comfortably arranged,
with cheerful views of the gardens around, and of the river that lay
glittering in the morning sun.
"Come, this will do," said Kulluka, as he entered; "and I see the
camels with our baggage have arrived. We must not be idle, but dress
ourselves, and at once go to wait on Abú-l Fazl the Minister. Now
for a bath, and meantime Vatsa can unpack."
Half an hour later both were ready for the visit, Siddha in a dress
of cloth-of-gold, reaching to the knees, and opening a little at the
throat, showing a pearl necklace. On his head was a turban ornamented
with a feather. Kulluka was also dressed with elegance and with less
severe simplicity than hitherto. They were armed with sabre and dagger,
but more for show than use.
It was not far to the palace of the Minister, and passing through
the courtyard, they gave their names to a servant, who immediately
showed them into one of the inner apartments, to await the coming
of the Wazir; but their patience was not put to proof. The curtain
that separated their apartment from others was soon drawn aside, and
Abú-l Fazl entered. He was a man of middle height, rather inclined
to corpulence, and about fifty years of age. He was dressed in a
costly garment of yellow flowered silk, wore no beard, and his smooth
countenance, in spite of a look of weariness, expressed manly strength
and a strong resolute will, though this was tempered by kindly dark
eyes. [59]
"It gives me great pleasure to see you here so soon," said he,
after the usual greetings, which on the part of Kulluka and Siddha
were full of respect. "Our young friend shows himself no laggard in
entering the Emperor's service--thanks, I suppose, to your inciting,
O wise Kulluka."
"It would indeed have been a bad beginning," was the reply, "if he had
delayed a moment longer than was necessary in assuming the position
which your favour and the Emperor's had assigned him."
"No favour, my friend," interrupted Abú-l Fazl, "but a wise choice,
I hope. We do not consider it needful to give all appointments to our
own noblemen, but hold them out also as prizes to the native nobility
of countries that are allied with us. And you know that our Rajputs
would see with displeasure their commanders chosen from any but their
own countrymen. And what could give me greater pleasure than to call
the son of an old and tried friend to a post that his father wished
to see him fill!"
"Nevertheless, my lord," said Siddha, as the Minister finished,
"allow me to look upon it as a favour, and to thank you most heartily
both for my father and for myself, and I hope to prove myself not
unworthy of your goodness."
"Above all, be faithful," said Abú-l Fazl, gravely. "Perhaps this
recommendation appears needless to you; but when you have been here
longer you will discover that treachery lurks in every corner, and even
the best may sometimes be led away and become faithless. To-morrow,
meantime, your commander will give you the necessary instructions for
your service, and he will warn you to be careful with your Rajputs,
for you know that many of them, although their position is lowly,
are noble as you yourself, and you cannot treat them as though they
were common soldiers. Now, doubtless, you wish to see more of the city
than you have yet done, and I will not keep you. But wait a moment," he
continued, as Siddha rose to take his leave; "a guide would be welcome
to you, and I think I can give you a good one." Clapping his hands,
he asked the servant who appeared, "Is my nephew Parviz in the house?"
"I have just seen him in the courtyard," answered the servant.
"Say that I wish to see him."
In a few minutes a young man appeared, of about Siddha's age,
richly dressed, and with ornaments of pearls and jewels. His face
was pleasing, but, in spite of a black moustache, somewhat feminine.
"Parviz," said Abú-l Fazl, "you see here our two visitors from Kashmir,
of whose coming I spoke to you; the noble Siddha I hope you will soon
call your friend; and now will you serve him as guide, for this is
his first visit to our city?"
"Willingly, uncle," answered Parviz, as he greeted Siddha with
friendliness; "it will be as much a pleasure as an honour."
"Then go," said the Minister; "Kulluka will perhaps remain a little
longer with me, to talk over the affairs of Kashmir. But, gentlemen,"
said he, more to Siddha than to the Brahman, "do not forget to visit my
brother Faizi to-day; he might take it amiss if you put off doing so
until to-morrow, although he would not grudge me the preference." And
making them a friendly sign of farewell, the two young men left the
palace together.
"Come," said Parviz, "luckily it is not so very hot, and we can go
at once to see--what to our visitors to Agra is the greatest of all
the sights--the Palace of the Emperor--that is if the walk is not
too far for you, after your long ride of this morning."
"Oh," answered Siddha, quickly becoming familiar with his new friend,
"I care as little for heat as for cold--we are well accustomed to
both amongst our mountains; nor do we think much of fatigue. But I
am sorry to give you the trouble of showing me what you must often
have seen before."
"Though not so indifferent to weather," said Parviz, jestingly, "as you
who come from wild mountains and forests, still I can manage a short
walk, and, even if it is hot, all inconvenience will be forgotten in
the pleasure of your companionship."
They soon became more familiar, and confided to each other their
various affairs and concerns. Parviz, among other things, told
Siddha that he had no taste for military service, and that his uncle
thought him unfitted for it, and therefore destined him for some civil
employment. Thus talking they came to a fine broad street that formed
one of the principal approaches to the royal palace. This street ended
in a gateway in the form of a triumphal arch. Passing through it they
entered a large maidan overshadowed with plane-trees. Six other streets
equally broad opened on this space, under similar arches; in the middle
stood a colossal stone elephant, the trunk of which formed a fountain,
throwing up jets of water. Three sides of the place were shut in by
marble colonnades, behind which arose gradually the different stories
of the building. Though this view was not so striking or picturesque
as that from the river, yet the extraordinary extent of palace,
with its various buildings and fortifications, was more apparent.
"You understand," said Parviz, "that it is impossible to visit all we
see at once; even if we were proof against fatigue, we should not have
the time. But let us take a glance around, so that you may be able
to form an idea of the whole, and later you will become acquainted
with it all."
As they entered one of the verandahs Parviz spoke to the guard,
who at once called a servant to guide them to those apartments
that were accessible to visitors of their rank. Following him,
they passed through long rows of rooms, each furnished with more
splendour than the last, and all built in the light Moorish style,
with charming views of the gardens around, with their fountains and
luxuriant growth of flowers of all kinds. Here were marble walls,
inlaid with flowers in delicate Mosaics; there, from all corners,
tiny fountains filled the air with coolness; everywhere curtains and
hangings of silk, embroidered with gold and silver; and heavy carpets,
and soft silken cushions.
"In the other wing," said Parviz, "are things still more beautiful;
but they are not shown, for there are the women's apartments. I have
had just a glance at one or two before they were finished, and while
they were uninhabited. The great audience hall, is it open?" he said,
turning to the guide.
"No, my lord," was the answer; "but in a few days."
"It does not signify," interrupted Parviz. "Soon," continued he to
Siddha, "there will be a public audience given, and we can then see
it. As to the apartments of the Emperor, in all probability you will
soon become well acquainted with them."
They then took their way through high, broad galleries, filled with
servants and soldiers, and then through the pleasure-grounds, while
Parviz pointed out to his companion the various halls and buildings,
telling him to what purposes they were destined. Here was the imperial
library, with its richly bound manuscripts; yonder the work-room
of the goldsmith and jeweller, and laboratories of the perfumers,
the store-houses and kitchens, and also the arsenal of the fortress,
and stables for the horses, elephants, and camels, kept for the use
of the Emperor.
Siddha had considered himself well acquainted with palaces, but the
conviction now crept over him that, until this moment, he had never
seen one. The extent of the stables struck him with astonishment,
appearing like a village from the compound round which they were built.
"What a number of noble animals there must be there!" he remarked.
"Yes," answered Parviz, "there are at least a hundred elephants here;
and I scarcely know how many are kept for the Emperor in other places,
but according to report he has as many again, and equal numbers of
horses and hunting-leopards."
"But," asked Siddha, "what can any one, even though he be the great
Akbar, do with such profusion?"
"Not much for himself," was the answer. "Less perhaps than you
imagine. Born in a wilderness, while his father wandered in banishment,
and brought up in a camp, he places no value on all this excessive
luxury; but he is convinced, I believe, that a prince like him, in
these countries and among such people as he governs, has as great
need of a striking magnificence as of a fine army and experienced
statesmen. We all--Persians, Mughals, Arabs, or Hindus, your people as
well as ours--are accustomed to feel greater respect for a monarch the
more outward show he makes. But you must not think that with all this
show there is also great prodigality. On the contrary, I can assure you
nothing is lost or wasted, and in the smallest affairs of this great
court there is the same strict order as in the different departments of
government, which can perhaps everywhere in the kingdom of the Great
Mughal be held up as an example of what intelligent administration
should be. My uncle Abú-l Fazl is busied in describing all this
exactly in his great work on the institutions and the government of
the Emperor, [60] in which he allows me to help him occasionally. But
there are some things in which Akbar may be called prodigal, especially
in aiding those who are in trouble and difficulties, and who have some
claim on his liberality; and also in the advancement of science and
art. As regards these, his treasurer has some trouble in keeping him
within bounds. But now," continued Parviz, after a moment's silence,
"it is about time to be returning; the sun commences to burn, and I
must confess to a little fatigue. If we loiter here longer I shall
be inclined to repose on one of these seats, and await the coolness
of the evening; but in this way we should lose our meal."
"So let us turn back," answered Siddha; "and I thank you heartily
for your company."
Taking a by-path on the other side of the garden and building, Parviz
guided his friend back to his lodging, and there taking leave, he said,
"To-morrow probably you will be too busy with your appointment to see
more of our town; but the day after, or later, I shall gladly be at
your orders, only let me know if I am to come for you."
The two young men took leave of each other, and Siddha sought,
in a cool apartment, the mid-day rest, which he found far from
unwelcome. When evening fell, he, with his elder friend, took
their way to Faizi, brother of the Minister. A comfortable and
tastefully built bungalow, surrounded by thickly growing trees, was
the habitation of Abú-l Fazl's younger brother. They were immediately
admitted, and presently a servant appeared, to lead them to Faizi's
own apartment. There, close to a verandah that ran round the greater
part of the building, sat a man, in the prime of life, bending over a
table covered with papers. Around him, on the ground, were scattered
many others. He rose to meet his visitors without any formality,
and holding out his hand with a simple welcome, signed to them to
seat themselves with him on the cushions before the verandah. [61]
What principally distinguished Faizi from his elder brother was the
frank, joyous expression of his smoothly shaven countenance, and a
peculiar easiness of manner, mixed with the courtly forms of a man
of the world. His calm and tranquil look was more characteristic of
a quiet thinker than of a man of warlike experience, although as a
warrior he had not failed in many a brave deed, and as ambassador
had aided in setting at rest many an intricate question.
"I knew well," he said, as a servant offered wine and refreshments,
"that you would not let the day pass, worthy Kulluka, without giving
me, as well as my brother, the pleasure of seeing you and making
acquaintance with your young friend, who, before long, I hope to call
mine. And what do you think of our new city?" he asked Siddha. "You
must already have seen something of it."
"Your nephew Parviz, noble lord," answered Siddha, "was so kind as to
show me a part of the palace this morning; but to tell the truth, I
cannot at this moment form an opinion of it. I am now simply overcome
with astonishment at so much magnificence and such a profusion of
splendid works of art. I had imagined much, but my imagination fell
far short of the reality."
"That I can easily believe," rejoined Faizi: "it happens to everyone
on their first arrival here. However much one may have heard or read
of Akbar's palace beforehand, one is overcome with astonishment on
really seeing it. But tell me, Kulluka, how things go in the north;
I am anxious to hear news of your Kashmir."
Kulluka willingly replied, keeping to general affairs, and without
then alluding to the divisions that were beginning to arise; and soon
Siddha also took a lively share in the conversation. Never before had
he found himself so quickly at his ease with a stranger as he did with
the celebrated Faizi, the great Emperor's friend and councillor, and
of whose learning and knowledge he had heard so much. The conversation
soon passed from the subjects of the day to various topics, especially
those relating to literature.
"You admire our palaces," said Faizi, turning to Siddha, "and say
they far out-do your expectations; but it was quite the contrary with
me when I first made acquaintance with your simple, classical, and
sacred literature. Our faithful were not very learned; Mullahs had
assured me they were nothing but a confused and tasteless collection
of monstrosities, as pernicious to our civilisation as dangerous
to our belief in Allah and His Prophet. I say nothing about this
last accusation; but as to what concerns the cultivation of taste
and knowledge, I find far more aid in your poets and thinkers than
in ours. How splendid is your heroic poetry, how fine your lyrics,
and sparkling your dramas! what noble, elevated feelings, yet, at the
same time, what purity and humanity, and what a breadth and depth of
thought was there in your philosophers of old! But why should I remind
you of all this, which you naturally know and understand far better
than I do, who with great difficulty have learnt to understand your
language, which is so entirely different from our Persian or Arabic."
"After all," said Siddha, "Sanscrit does not come so naturally to
us Hindus, who generally speak Hindustani. Ask Kulluka if he did not
find difficulties in teaching it to me."
"Even," remarked Kulluka, "even if in the beginning Faizi found
the same difficulties in learning Sanscrit that others have done,
his translation of our Kashmiri chronicles, and his rendering of Nala
and Damayanti, [62] can well make us forget that the language is not
his native one."
"What splendid poetry, is it not?" continued Faizi, who did not let the
conversation easily drop when it once touched on Hindu literature;
"and how far short any translation must fall when compared with
the original, so simple and yet so exalted, with its unsurpassed
women! Think of the noble, pure Damayanti, proof against all the
trials and slights of her unworthy husband! My translations have been
undertaken to please Akbar, who naturally cannot find time to learn
a strange language, and yet is desirous of reading everything. Now
he has given me the task of translating the Evangelists."
"Of what?" asked Kulluka.
"Of the holy books used by the people of the West, who are called
Christians, after the founder of their religion, of whom you must
have heard. There is much worth reading in those books, and I find
many exalted and profound ideas in them, mixed with matter of less
consequence, as is also the case with your philosophies; but on the
whole there is not much that is new to those who are acquainted with
your philosophical writings. But what always strikes me particularly,"
he continued, again turning the conversation to the praise of ancient
India, "are your proverbs. How insipid ours appear when compared with
them! Even if I had only learnt this one of you, it would have been
enough to give me fresh courage for working at my manuscript,--
"The treasure that never fades is never robbed, but grows
The more it is expended; that treasure is called knowledge."
"Is that right?" said he, turning to Siddha; "or have I made some
fault in the pronunciation?"
For a moment Siddha hesitated, but glancing at Kulluka, who smiled
and nodded to him, he replied, with confidence, "Not quite right,
my lord; but the mistake is a very slight one." And repeating the
word in fault, he showed how it should be pronounced.
"Now I am fortunate," cried Faizi, joyfully; "but do repeat one of
the sayings from Bhartrihari; [63] no doubt you know many."
Siddha thought for a moment, and then recited:--
"Every one who lives was born, but only those are truly born
Who, dying, leave a name to their descendants."
"Oh," laughed Faizi, "in your Kashmir you have learnt other things than
Sanscrit,--you are also learned in the art of flattery, my friend."
"Flattery?" asked Siddha. "Should not your name and that of your
brother Abú-l Fazl--that have penetrated from Persia to the furthest
districts of Hindustan--should not your names be preserved by coming
generations?"
"My brother's name," he answered; "yes, that will not lightly
be forgotten: preserved, perhaps, not so much through his deeds
as through his immortal work, the 'Akbar Nama,' [64] in which he
describes the history of our great Emperor's reign. That is indeed
a book, my friend, in comparison with which all my writings sink to
nothing. But I have remarked to him that he raises Akbar too much
to the clouds; for after all, he, as a man, has his faults, like
others, and perhaps in the future he may be accused of flattery of
princes and of prejudice. But he would not listen to me, nor in the
least diminish his praise of the Emperor. 'If I,' he answered me,
'may not say all that I in truth think of the man, who is more than
my prince--he is my benefactor and truest friend,--rather than not
say what I think, I would throw my book away.' As you can understand,
against all that there was no reasoning; and one can see also that to
Akbar, although he says nothing, the praise of a friend whose opinion
he prizes so highly is very welcome."
"Noble Faizi," said Siddha, interrupting a short silence, "may I ask
you a question?"
"Certainly," was the reply; "and I hope to be able to answer it
frankly."
"Well, then, when we spoke of Abú-l Fazl, a warning he gave me this
morning crossed my mind. He warned me against treachery that here
surrounds the Emperor. Do you, whose opinion is of such great weight,
believe that there can be people here so foolish and so criminal as to
league themselves against so great and beneficent a prince as Akbar;
can it really be?"
"Oh!" cried Faizi; "my brother sees treachery everywhere; but after
all, that is but natural to a Minister, and still more to the first,
the great Wazir. However, you may make yourself easy; people here are
not so base, nor are they so foolish, as to engage in a game in which
their heads are the stakes, and the chances ten to one against them."
"Faizi," said Kulluka, gravely and half reproachfully, "your hopeful
views prove your good heart; but do you not think that they may be
sometimes dangerous to young people, and lead them, as for example
might be the case with our inexperienced friend here, into imprudence?"
"I do not see that he is inclined to want of caution," was the reply;
"and I only mean that it is better that he should not begin with his
head full of imaginations of court and state intrigues, but enter life
with confidence and courage. We all began so, and dangers never harmed
us. If he begins with too much suspicion, he will end by trusting no
one, not even my brother or myself."
"That could never be," cried Siddha, quickly, as he looked confidently
into Faizi's friendly face. "As little as I could ever suspect secret
enmity from you, so little could you expect faithlessness and treachery
from one who prizes your friendship and good opinion as highly as
I do."
"Remember what you have said," Kulluka remarked, gravely; "and
think, too, that no one has the power of foreseeing all the events
and circumstances that may end in influencing him, short-sighted as
he is, to give up his free will."
"See," said Faizi, in his usual joyous tone, "here we are again in
philosophy. You know well it is my favourite subject, although I have
not made so much progress in it as Kulluka maintains. Let us call for
lights--night begins to close in--and we will have some discussion
touching Sankhya and Vedanta, [65] in which he is so strong. What a
pity that we cannot ask Akbar to join us! he finds more pleasure in the
driest philosophical discussion than in the most sparkling banquets."
"Nothing should I like better, honoured Faizi," answered Kulluka,
"than to pass an hour with you deep in such subjects, as in past days;
but now I am afraid we must go, Siddha must take over his command early
to-morrow morning, and I have much to settle to-night in readiness
for my departure, which is fixed for the day after to-morrow. Will
you, then, excuse us if we take our leave, and thank you for your
reception--as kind and friendly as ever it was in days gone by?"
"Indeed I will excuse you, my worthy friend," answered Faizi,
as he called to a servant to show them out. "Siddha," he said, as
he took leave, "we were speaking of imprudences; be on your guard
against them. But a young man like you may happen to fall into them
as well at your court as at ours; and if you ever find yourself in
any difficulty, come straight to Faizi, who may be able to keep you
out of the fire." And without waiting for either answer or thanks,
he turned back to his own apartments.
Who could have asked for more, on his entry into life, than was
given to Siddha! Neither councillors nor support failed him. For
important affairs there was the hermit of the mountain; for more
trifling difficulties the wise and influential Faizi. The favour
of the First Minister had already been granted him, and that of the
Emperor himself was promised him.