Among the extraordinary occurrences of Noor Jehan’s life, perhaps
there is none that more forcibly developes her character than her
bearing towards Mohabet Chan, after the signal services which he had
rendered the state by suppressing the rebellion of Prince Churrum.
The eminent abilities displayed by Mohabet during his command of the
imperial armies had won for him the confidence of his master and of the
Empress; and this confidence was increased by his suppression of the
most formidable rebellion which disturbed the reign of Jehangire. His
family was raised to offices of trust in the state, and the Emperor
treated him with a distinction that excited the envy of the nobles. But
the gratitude of princes has ever been a questionable virtue; their
suspicions are readily excited, and there are never wanting engines to
set those suspicions at work.
The Sultana soon became apprehensive of Mohabet’s influence with the
Emperor; and therefore, to abridge it, put in operation the active
energies of her mind. Jehangire was naturally a credulous man, and the
rebellion of his son had rendered him suspicious. The virtues of his
general ought to have placed him above the petty surmises suggested by
envy; but his abilities had raised him enemies at court, and his master
wanted firmness to repel the insinuations levelled against the man who
had been the main prop of his throne. Mohabet soon perceived a change
in his sovereign’s feelings; but, conscious of his own integrity, he
was at no pains to remove the prejudices excited against him. He was
conscious that he owed much of the growing coldness evident in the
Emperor’s manner towards him to the misrepresentations of Noor Jehan;
and thence grew a strong and mutual antipathy, which had nearly proved
the means of transferring the empire from the house of Timur to another
dynasty.
The immediate cause of that open rupture which ensued, and had nearly
cost Jehangire his crown, was an accusation made to the Sultana by a
noble that Mohabet had sanctioned his son’s death, which the father
expressed himself determined to avenge. He further stated that the
general entertained a design of raising his sovereign’s second son to
the throne. This was reported to the Emperor; it immediately excited
his fears, and he listened with weak credulity to a charge of treason
against his general. Blinded by his terrors, he forgot the services
which that great and good man had rendered to the state, and weakly
listened to the voice of his slanderers.
Mohabet, who was at this time in Bengal, received his master’s
imperative orders to repair immediately to the capital. As he did not
instantly obey, he received a second summons, still more peremptory,
accompanied with such manifestations of displeasure, that he could
no longer mistake the danger of his situation. Although surprised at
this total change of good feeling towards him, yet having really done
nothing justly to excite his sovereign’s displeasure, he resolved to
obey the mandate at all hazards, but to take every necessary precaution
against his enemies, whether secret or open. When, however, he
reflected upon the unworthy requital he had received for his services,
indignation and disgust overbore his first resolution, and he came to
the determination of retiring to a castle of which he had some time
before been appointed governor; but, to his astonishment, he found
that an order had been received at the fortress to deliver it up to a
person whom the Sultana had appointed to take immediate possession.
This unjustifiable act of tyranny convinced him of what some of his
friends at court had already apprised him, that his life was in danger
from the secret machinations of his foes; he determined therefore not
to put himself in their power before he had at least made some effort
to ascertain the extent of his peril.
He wrote to the Emperor, expressing surprise at his hostility towards
an unoffending subject, and declaring that, though he had the greatest
confidence in the honour of his sovereign, he had none in that of his
evil counsellors. The only reply which he received to this temperate
expostulation was an order, still more peremptory than those already
sent, to appear at court without further delay. To refuse was to rebel;
he therefore addressed another letter to his imperial master. In it he
said, “I will serve my sovereign with my life against his enemies; but
I will not expose it to the malice of his friends. Assure me of safety,
and I will clear myself in your presence.”
This letter was construed by the Sultana, who directed all the
Emperor’s measures, into an indignity. Jehangire was angry, and
despatched a messenger, summoning Mohabet, in very reproachful terms,
to appear before him. The general prepared to obey; but took the
precaution of going with an escort of five thousand Rajpoots in the
imperial pay, who had long served under him, and were devoted to their
commander. With this guard of faithful soldiers he proceeded towards
Lahore, where the sovereign at that time held his court.
When the Empress heard that Mohabet was advancing with so numerous an
escort, she became alarmed. She feared that such a formidable force
might either terrify the Emperor into a reconciliation, or place his
crown in jeopardy. Either way there was cause for apprehension. She
persuaded him, therefore, not to admit the refractory general into the
camp, for at this time the imperial retinue was on its way from Lahore
to Cabul. When he arrived near the royal encampment, a messenger was
despatched to inform him that he would not be allowed to enter the
presence of his sovereign until he had accounted for the revenues of
Bengal, and the plunder taken at the battle of Benares. Provoked at
such a demand, the general despatched his son-in-law to complain of
the indignity; but no sooner had the young man entered the Emperor’s
presence, than he was stripped, bastinadoed, covered with a ragged
robe, placed upon a lean tattoo[38] with his face towards the tail,
and thus sent back to his father-in-law amid the jeers of the whole
army. This was an insult not to be forgiven. Mohabet was grieved at the
Emperor’s weakness, but attributed the scandal of the late scene to
the Sultana, to whose intrigues he imputed her royal husband’s violent
hostility. He saw that to put himself in her power was at once to
relinquish his liberty, if not his life; and he accordingly formed his
resolution. It was no less decisive than bold. He resolved immediately
to surprise the sovereign and carry him off.
The imperial army lay encamped on the banks of a river, across which
was a bridge. On the morning after the maltreatment of Mohabet’s
messenger, they proceeded on their march. Not being in an enemy’s
country, no precautions were used against surprise, as no danger was
apprehended. The army commenced its march early in the morning; and
Jehangire, being in no haste to move, continued in his tent, intending
to follow at his convenience. When the imperial troops had crossed the
bridge, Mohabet advancing with his Rajpoots, set it on fire, and thus
cut off the sovereign’s retreat. He then rushed forward to the royal
tent. His face was pale, but his whole aspect severe and resolute:
there was no mistaking the purpose which was legibly written in every
feature. He was followed by his brave Rajpoots. Resistance was vain.
The guards and nobles were instantly disarmed.
Jehangire had retired to the bath, whither Mohabet followed him. The
guards attempted to oppose the latter’s entrance; but putting his hand
upon his sword, and pointing to his numerous followers, no further
opposition was made, and the bold general entered the bathing-tent. The
Omrahs present, seeing the folly of resistance, relinquished their arms
and became silent spectators of the scene. Mohabet passed them with a
stern countenance, which brought to their memories the outrage of the
preceding day, but did not utter a word.
Meanwhile information of what had happened was carried to the inner
tent, where the Emperor was, by some of the female attendants. He
seized his sword, but was soon brought to a sense of his defenceless
position. Perceiving that all his guards and nobles were disarmed,
and that Mohabet was accompanied by a band of resolute followers
prepared to obey his commands to the very letter, he approached the
general, whom his conscience now told him he had treated with signal
ingratitude, and said, “What does this mean, Mohabet Chan?” Mohabet,
touching the ground, and then his forehead, thus replied:
“Forced by the machinations of my enemies, who plot against my life, I
throw myself under the protection of my sovereign.”
“You are safe,” answered the Emperor; “but what would these who stand
armed behind you?”
“They demand full security,” rejoined Mohabet, “for me and my family;
and without it they will not retire.”
“I understand you,” said Jehangire: “name your terms, and they shall be
granted. But you do me an injustice, Mohabet: I did not plot against
your life; I knew your services, though I was offended at your seeming
disobedience of my commands. Be assured of my protection; I shall
forget the conduct which necessity has imposed upon you.”
Mohabet did not reply, but, ordering a horse, requested the Emperor
to mount. They then rode forward, surrounded by Rajpoots. When they
had proceeded beyond the skirts of the camp, the imperial captive
was respectfully requested to place himself upon an elephant, in
order to avoid accident in any confusion that might ensue from his
departure. He readily complied with the general’s request, seeing that
opposition would be fruitless, and ascended the elephant, upon which
three Rajpoots immediately placed themselves as guards. Some of the
nobles, seeing the captivity of their sovereign, advanced to oppose
his progress, and were instantly cut down by the followers of Mohabet.
There was no further interruption offered, and Jehangire was taken
to Mohabet’s tent. Here the latter explained himself to his royal
prisoner, assuring him that he had no design either against his life or
his power. “But,” he continued, sternly, “I am determined to be secure
from treachery.”
Mohabet was greatly disappointed that he had not been able to secure
the Sultana. During the confusion caused by the entrance of his
numerous followers into the imperial tent, she had contrived to escape,
and passing the stream upon her elephant, had joined the army, to whom
she communicated the disaster of her husband’s captivity.
Mohabet not considering himself secure while the Sultana was at large,
determined to leave nothing unattempted to get her into his power.
He had now publicly shown his hostility; the banner of rebellion was
raised, and no alternative remained but to pursue his purpose with the
same resolute boldness with which he had begun it. He was conscious of
the resources of his own genius. He was the idol of the troops which
he commanded; and though aware of the consummate abilities of the
Sultana--who in fact directed the movements of the imperial army--and
of her brother the Vizier, still he knew they were not popular with
the troops, and that, moreover, a great number of the Omrahs were
dissatisfied with the influence exercised by her and her family.
Mohabet having returned with the Emperor to his former camp on
the banks of the river, found that Sujait Chan, an Omrah of high
reputation, had just arrived to join the imperial army. Finding
the camp deserted, and the Emperor a prisoner in the hands of his
rebellious general, Sujait upbraided the latter with treachery in
the presence of his Rajpoots. The general, at once enraged and
alarmed, ordered his troops to fall upon the haughty noble, whom they
immediately slew, together with his whole retinue. This decisive stroke
of severity at once terrified the other nobles, who had been watching
for an opportunity of rescuing their sovereign, and they fled across
the river, carrying to the imperial army the melancholy intelligence of
Sujait’s death.
This information produced a general gloom. The captivity of the Emperor
excited the indignation of the Sultana, and of Asiph the Vizier. Noor
Jehan summoned the nobles who had just joined the army; and upbraided
them with their cowardice in not hazarding their lives in defence of
their royal master. A council was promptly summoned, and a consultation
held as to the best method to be pursued for rescuing the sovereign
out of his enemy’s hands. There was no time to be lost: the moment
was critical; delay only diminished the chances of success, as it
strengthened the power of the rebel, who was universally popular. It
was determined to recross the river with the dawn, and attack Mohabet.
Jehangire, whom they had contrived to apprise of this intention, began
to fear for his life. He instantly sent a messenger to the Vizier to
desist; but that minister not considering himself bound to comply with
the commands of a captive monarch, determined to persevere in his
intention.
FOOTNOTES:
[37] Vide Dow, ad loc.
[38] A native pony.