O the bliss of that day, when I shall depart from this desolate
mansion; shall seek rest for my soul, and shall follow the traces
of my beloved!
HAFIZ.
The indisposition of the emperor, and the reports of conspiracies
with which the capital was for some days inundated, had the effect of
diverting the attention of Selim from the violent determination which
he seemed disposed to form, with a view to prevent the completion
of Nourmahal’s marriage with Shere-Afkun. The intelligence of her
nuptials, and of her departure for Cashmere, came, however, upon him
like a thunderbolt. His first impulse was to have them apprehended on
their road, and brought back to Agra, let the consequences be what they
might. But from this course he was dissuaded by Bochari, who insisted
that all his exertions should be directed to the defence of his title
to the throne, which was exposed to no common danger; and that any
violation, upon his part, of the laws at such a moment, besides turning
against him so powerful a chieftain as Afkun, would be certain to
render his cause extremely unpopular.
“Wait until you ascend the musnud: the sceptre fixed firmly in your
hand, and order restored throughout your dominions, it will, indeed, be
singular if means cannot be found for adding to your harem any woman
whom you may select in Hindostan.”
Selim listened with impatience to the councils of Bochari, but their
discourse was abruptly terminated by a messenger from the emperor, who
directed the prince to preside in his place at a cabinet announced to
deliberate upon affairs of great urgency. Acbar might, indeed, be said
to have already resigned the government into the hands of his son. His
strength never for an instant rallied after he received the tidings
of Daniel’s ignominious death, and although his intellect remained
unobscured to the last moment of his existence, he became every day
more indifferent to all those objects of ambition, to the attainment
of which the vigour of his youth and manhood, and even the wisdom of
his advancing age, had been devoted. The grief that preyed upon his
thoughts bade him look at the past as a dream already concluded,--a
dream in which victory and defeat were incidents that seemed to be the
sport of some power superior to his own. The splendour of the throne
had for him no longer any charms; his days were numbered, and even if
his health were to be restored, he felt that he could know no more
happiness in this world, except as a hermit, retired within the limits
of some mountain solitude, where he might unreservedly give up his
hours to melancholy contemplation.
Not widely different from this state of apparently irremediable
depression, were the feelings of Afkun’s beauteous bride, as she
journeyed towards her new home. Her separation from her mother, to
whom she was most tenderly attached,--from her father, whom she
resembled in mind, with whose every thought, sentiment, preference
and antipathy, she so entirely sympathised that they might be said to
have had only one soul,--was a sacrifice on all sides, for which no
adequate compensation could be expected. Fate, however, had issued
her ordinances, and they were irrevocable. Nourmahal parted from each
particular rose which she had cultivated, from the favourite plane-tree
under which she had so often indulged in a vision,--now, she feared,
for ever ended,--as if they were living members of her family. The
capital, and its lofty citadel, within which the imperial seraglio and
the residences of the royal family were situated,--the public squares
filled with busy multitudes,--the mansions of the omrahs surrounded by
groves and gardens in perpetual verdure,--the houses of the wealthy
merchants, looking like warlike castles rising from the bosom of
ancient forests,--and, above all, the Jumna, by whose murmuring waters
she had so often pored over the fascinating verses of Oonsuri and
Biana, and the history of the queen Rizia, who reigned over Hindostan
with so much glory, until she surrendered her heart to the Abyssinian
slave, whom she loved too well,--never appeared to Kazim’s daughter
so full of attraction as on that painful morning when, for the first
time, she beheld them fading gradually from her sight.
Reclining in her covered litter, borne by swift-footed elephants,
she would have been more or less than woman if she had not kept her
curtain open in the direction of the citadel,--from its elevated
situation necessarily the last memorial of Agra upon which her eye
could linger. Kazim had often pointed out to her the golden dome,
beneath which were the apartments dedicated to the use of prince Selim
and his establishment. She doubted not the feelings with which he would
receive the intelligence of her marriage, and of her sudden departure
from Agra. A secret voice had told her too truly what those feelings
would be; nor was she without the suspicion,--the fear,--perhaps the
hope,--that before the sun went down that day, her journey might be
interrupted in a manner for which her attendants were little prepared.
Every group of horsemen that approached the cavalcade from the side of
the capital, filled her mind with anxious forebodings, which she dared
not communicate even to Kanun; and as each group successively passed
away, in various directions, she was obliged to confess to herself a
sense of disappointment. When the domes of the citadel were no longer
to be seen, and every trace of the great metropolis had vanished in the
distance, it was still some consolation to her to gain now and then
glimpses of the Jumna through the foliage of the fruit-trees, by which,
in the reign of the renowned Shere-Khan, of the Patan race, the road
was shaded on either side from the Indus to the Ganges. The ripples
sparkling in the sun by day, and silvered at night by the moon-beams,
seemed to whisper to her that they would soon pass under the citadel,
and that, haply, they might not be unseen by him who now occupied more
of her thoughts than her better reason could justify, especially when,
during the pauses on the way, Afkun presented himself at her curtain,
lavishing upon her all the attentions which a lover could bestow on a
mistress whom he idolized.
Little remains now of the great forest of Narwar, in which the Orcha
Rajaputs took up their abode in former days. Chased by the arms of
Acbar from the populous districts, which they had been long accustomed
to plunder, under the pretext of merely exacting from the inhabitants a
revenue to which they claimed to be lawfully entitled, they collected
in considerable force in those parts of the forest that were least
accessible to an enemy. They erected a fortress of no mean strength, to
which the whole body retired when threatened by any serious danger; but
they dwelt for the most part in temporary huts, which they frequently
changed, in order to elude the pursuit of the guards appointed to
watch over the safety of travellers on the public roads. Disdaining
the service of the emperor, which they had been often invited to
enter, they preferred a species of wild independence, in which they
could not long have sustained themselves, if they had not continued
their system of plunder. Leagued together by relationship, as well
as by oaths, which it was death to violate, they carried on warfare
against all the rest of mankind. They had their spies in all the great
towns, especially in Agra and Delhi, whose office it was to acquire
intelligence as to the movements of wealthy merchants and caravans, and
to transmit it with the utmost rapidity to the rajah of the band, who
took his dispositions accordingly for seizing the prey.
The fortress was always kept well garrisoned. When relief was required,
faggots of pine-wood were piled in a cauldron, on the summit of a
lofty tower that surmounted the highest trees, and set fire to in the
darkest hour of the night. No Orcha Rajaput dared to go to rest at the
hour when that signal was usually made, or to hesitate in repairing to
the fortress fully armed, before the beacon was extinguished. On other
occasions of urgency, their forces were collected by sound of horn--a
sound not distinguishable by the unpractised ear from the ordinary call
of the shepherds, or swine-herds, to each other, when they wished to
meet at night for mutual defence against beasts of prey--but well known
by peculiar intonations to the banditti, whom it summoned to those
deeds of horror, for which the forest of Narwar was renowned.
Some days after Fazeel’s departure from Agra, a horseman, apparelled
as a merchant, joined his escort, and prayed permission to accompany
it, announcing that he was bound for Masulipatan, whither he was going
to purchase fine muslins. His request being of course complied with,
he fell into the ranks, and loudly congratulated himself upon his good
fortune in journeying under such safe protection, in a country where
so many robberies and murders had been lately perpetrated. He boasted
much of his riches, and of the fresh gains he would acquire by his
adventure to Masulipatan, and as he was very anxious to avail himself
of the escort as far as possible, he inquired carefully as to the
route which they were directed to take, and the number of days which
they were likely to occupy in the accomplishment of their journey. In
the course of conversation he gave it to be understood, that in his
earlier days he had dealt in matches, tipped with a peculiar chemical
preparation, which was never known to fail of ignition,--unlike those
recently introduced into the military service, which were often known
to fail at the very moment when the assistance of the fire-arms and
artillery became most essential.
The troopers shewed their new acquaintance the sort of matches with
which they were furnished, but which, upon inspection, he declared,
with an air of authority, to be totally unfit for use. In order to
convince them of the infallibility of his judgment in such matters, he
begged to be allowed to try a few; when applied to a torch, lighted
for the purpose, each turned as black as charcoal, without yielding
any sparks. The soldiers thought it lucky that the discovery was made
in time, the more particularly as they were now within a few hours of
entering on the great forest of Narwar, which was well known to be the
haunt of the Orcha Rajaputs.
The question was, how they could now remedy the evil? This the merchant
cheerfully promised to do, saying that the efficacy of their matchlocks
was as necessary to his own security as to that of the great minister
upon whom they attended.
Accordingly, desiring all the matches to be brought to him, when the
cavalcade stopped at night on the borders of the forest, he produced
from his baggage a box, containing a red composition, a small portion
of which he applied to the end of a piece of common wood. The moment
he shook it in the air, the wood blazed of itself, to the astonishment
even of Fazeel, who witnessed the experiment, and to whom it was
thought no improvement in the arts had been unknown. The merchant again
attempted to inflame, in the ordinary way, one of the matches which
he held in his hand, but, as before, it turned black without emitting
any fire. He touched it with his magical preparation, and waved it
round his head, when it burst forth in a gush of bright sparkles! He
was occupied a great part of the night in furnishing all the matches,
which had been served out to the escort, with the composition, of whose
value he had exhibited such striking proofs. While he was still at his
labour, soon after midnight, one of the officers on guard called his
attention to a light that appeared at some distance in the sky, and
which the sentinels believed to be the beacon of the banditti, who
held possession of the interior of the forest. The officer was about
to give the alarm and awaken the whole escort, in order to prepare
for the attack, which might now be momentarily expected. But the
merchant assured him that the light was nothing more than a meteor of
the night, and that, at all events, it could not be the beacon of the
Orcha Rajaputs, whose fortress he knew, from having frequently passed
that way, to be situated at the opposite side of the forest. The light
disappearing, after the lapse of a few minutes, no further notice was
taken of the circumstance. The merchant, on returning the matches,
directed that they should be carefully preserved from the action of
the air until they should be required for use. He then went to sleep on
his baggage.
At sunrise the escort were again in motion, and matin prayers having
been said, they resumed their journey, preceded by half-a-dozen scouts,
who were charged to return, forthwith, in case they should gain any
intelligence of the approach of the banditti. The merchant was still
asleep when the last trooper was already mounted; upon being called
he rose suddenly, and proceeded to put his baggage together, but it
seemed, by some means or other, to have got into so much confusion,
that before he could arrange it on his palfrey, the escort were out of
sight.
They had not advanced far through the forest, when one of the scouts
returned with tidings, that he had heard the sound of a horn, which
did not strike him to be that either of a hunter or a shepherd. Fazeel
directed the escort to be on the alert, and to have the flambeaus
lighted. He inquired for the merchant, with whom he wished to have
some conversation upon the subject of the matches, as well as upon the
manufactures of Masulipatan; for that great man, whose “Ayeen Ackberry”
is an imperishable monument of knowledge, never neglected any
opportunity of acquiring information which he could render useful to
the empire. The merchant was nowhere to be found; “having remained up
so long during the night,” said one of the troopers, “he had over-slept
himself, and had not yet overtaken the escort.” Fazeel, apprehensive
for his safety, ordered the escort to wait until he should come, and,
in the meantime, sent two of the scouts to look out for him. They
galloped to the place where the escort had halted the previous night,
but no trace, either of the merchant or his horse could be discovered.
While the troop was thus waiting, a rustling was heard in the trees,
on one side of the road, which was instantly followed by a murderous
discharge of fire-arms. The party attacked immediately attempted to
return the fire, but upon applying their matches to the flambeau, they
became as black as charcoal. In the mean time another volley was poured
upon them from the forest, with such unerring aim, that more than half
their number was already slain on the spot. The survivors, though
astounded by the failure of their matches, prevented from rushing on
their foes by the impenetrable nature of the underwood and entangled
trees from behind which the fatal guns were pointed at their hearts,
and distracted by the slaughter of their comrades, the neighing of the
wounded horses, the piercing cries of the baggage-elephants and camels,
and the irremediable embarrassments in which they were involved,
nevertheless, courageously dismounted, and pressing towards Fazeel, who
was already twice wounded, tore away branches from the trees, which
they used as matches, and heroically performed their duties to the
last moment. But the vollies came thick upon them, soon followed by a
numerous band of the Rajaputs, who completed with their scymitars and
spears, the dreadful work which the musketeers had left undone. The
body of Fazeel was easily distinguished from the lifeless crowd around
it, and barbarously hewn into a thousand pieces. The treasure with
which the camels and elephants were laden, became, of course, the booty
of the savage race, from whose name the infamy of this deed, and of the
treacherous means by which it was effected, never can be erased.
The scouts, who had been sent to look for the merchant, were, on their
return to their companions, met by a fugitive from the scene of action,
who told them that all was lost. They therefore made all possible haste
back to Agra, and presenting themselves at the palace, related to the
officers in waiting the lamentable issue of Fazeel’s journey to the
Deccan. The intelligence was conveyed at first to the prince, who,
though he secretly rejoiced at the removal of an obstacle which stood
between him and the throne, nevertheless felt that the intelligence
ought to be made public in the mode most consistent with the respect
that was due to the memory of so important a functionary. The history
of the murder was broken by degrees to the emperor, who, already
reduced to the last stages of decay, took to himself all the blame of
this occurrence, persuaded, that by ordering Fazeel to the Deccan,
at an age when that minister was well entitled to retire from public
affairs, he had been chiefly instrumental to the catastrophe that
had befallen him. The tidings spread a general gloom throughout the
capital; surmises were strongly entertained that Selim and his minion,
Bochari, were not ignorant of the steps taken by the Orcha Rajaputs,
and that the merchant who joined the escort was engaged expressly by
Bochari, for the purpose of rendering the matchlocks of the escort
useless in their hands.
These surmises reached the ears of Acbar, who solemnly questioned
Selim concerning them. The prince indignantly repelled the accusation.
Bochari was summoned to the emperor’s presence, and upon being
interrogated as to the suspicions so universally directed against him,
declared them to be calumnious, and offered to go through any ordeal in
order to establish his innocence. The emperor was observed suddenly to
rise on his couch, while these inquiries were going on in his presence.
Snatching a scymitar from the scabbard of one of the eunuchs at his
side, he stood on his feet, and fixing his eyes on Bochari, attempted
to move towards him, raising the weapon as if he meant to cleave him
to the earth. But in the act his arm was paralyzed; some words which
he endeavoured to utter died on his lips, and the soul of him whom
his subjects loved as a father, idolized as a hero, and feared as the
inflexible administrator of justice, left this world for Paradise.
Bochari immediately falling on his knees saluted Selim as the reigning
sovereign of Hindostan; and his example having been followed by the
whole court, he mounted his horse, proceeded to the city gates, which
he ordered to be shut, and brought back the keys, which he placed in
the emperor’s possession. The news soon reached Chusero, who, taking a
small canoe, rowed down the river to the house of Man-Singh, where the
confederate Omrahs happened to be assembled in council. Fully prepared
for the intelligence which he brought, they silenced the apprehensions
which he expressed as to the result of their project, and proceeded to
discuss the measures which they deemed necessary to be taken forthwith,
for securing the accomplishment of their object, before the death of
Acbar could become known throughout the capital. The assassination of
Selim was proposed and supported by several of the Omrahs; but the
prince, though fired with ambition of sovereign power, recoiled from
the thought of parricide. “No!” he exclaimed, “my father may enjoy
life without a throne; but I can never enjoy a throne stained with a
father’s blood. Let the fortune of open war decide between us. Away
with the daggers of assassins--to our swords alone let us look for
victory!” These generous sentiments having been loudly applauded by an
overwhelming majority of the council, they proceeded the same night
towards Delhi, where they resolved to proclaim Chusero as emperor.
Selim, who took the name of Jehangire (subduer of the world), mounted
the throne the following morning at sunrise. His first act was to give
orders for the interment of his father at Secundra, a short distance
from Agra; and for the erection there of a mausoleum, which remains
to this hour a splendid monument of filial piety. He next commanded
the imperial crown to be brought before him, and having placed it on
his brow, the great state drum was struck, and the cannons, planted on
the walls of the citadel; proclaimed, in their voices of thunder, the
commencement of a new reign.
END OF VOLUME I.
TRANSCRIBERS’ NOTES
In this transcription, italicized text from the original print is
indicated by _underscores_, and words originally printed in small caps
are rendered in full uppercase.
Minor typographical errors such as missing periods, commas used instead
of periods, etc. have been silently corrected.
Variations in the spelling of the same word within the text have not
been standardized; however, probable printer errors have been changed
as follows:
Page 26: “inerest” changed to “interest”: ...for him a peculiar
interest.
Page 41: “te” changed to “the”: ...was driven back to the edge of...
Page 71: “multitud” changed to “multitude”: Thus the multitude
assembled to see...
Page 115: “epecial” changed to “special”: ...by the special desire of
Suleiman...
Page 147: “nesessary” changed to “necessary”: ... necessary even to his
own safety...
Page 167: “himelf” changed to “himself”: the tamest for himself and
Mangeli...
Page 168: “journies” changed to “journeys”: ...to make long journeys
from...
Page 170: “he” changed to “the”: ...within the district of Kabul...
Page 184: “couries” changed to “cowries”: ...to sell for a few cowries
to students...
Page 203: “t” changed to “to”: ...did not tend rather to increase...
Page 243: “pourtrayed” changed to “portrayed”: ...had never portrayed
an earthly being...
Page 244: “downfal” changed to “downfall”: ...be that of his own
downfall.
Page 249: “recal” changed to “recall”: ...endeavouring to recall her to
emotion...