King, do not grieve, but like a valiant chief,
Pluck from thy heart all terror of thine enemies,
And only deem of thy propitious fortune,
Or who shall foremost plunge into the fight.
Hindoo Drama.
A short but profound sleep having relieved Jehangire from the effects
of his copious libations, he proceeded to witness the concluding
performances of the Bengalese, which were appointed to take place
at midnight. The ladies of the harem, and the whole court, were in
attendance in their usual places. The night was intensely dark,
uncheered by the twinkling even of a solitary star. Three of the
Bauzigurs made their appearance, all wrapped in white sheets, from
beneath which they produced mirrors that at first cast upon the
sky a luminous reflection, bright as the lustre of the sun itself.
Travellers, who, at the distance of ten days’ journey from the camp,
beheld that light, were deterred from pursuing their way, fearful that
some convulsion had taken place in nature, by which the order of things
had been reversed, and that the sun was thenceforth to take the place
of the moon.
The illuminated space in the heavens soon exhibited to the eye
an incredible number of towns and villages, thickly peopled, and
apparently in the enjoyment of peace, and of riches of every
description. Horsemen and infantry presently were seen emerging from
the confines of darkness, and marching towards the principal town. The
gates of the town opened, and a female of consummate beauty, clothed
in armour, with a helmet of matchless splendor on her head, mounted
in a wooden tower on an elephant, her bow and quiver by her side, and
a burnished lance in her hand, came forth, followed by a numerous
train of elephants, and warriors on foot and on horseback. The adverse
forces met, rushing upon each other with savage ardour. The shock was
tremendous, thousands lay dead on either side. The invaders fled back
in confusion to their encampment. Some time was spent in burning the
dead on either side, amidst the solemn sounds of trumpets, which were
heard wailing for the heroes that had perished.
The queen, as soon as the obsequies were over, re-assembled her troops,
and pointing to the camp of the enemy, called upon them to follow her
forthwith, and to attack it. The leaders declined the enterprize,
and returned to weep over the ashes of their companions. The enemy,
refreshed, came forth to renew the combat. The queen prepared to meet
him, but with difficulty prevailed on her troops to advance. The
conflict was renewed with great slaughter. The forces of the heroine
rapidly diminished, many falling on the field, more basely deserting
her standard, and diving into the night. She received an arrow in the
eye, which she instantly extricated. Another arrow passed through
her neck. Dimness swam before her eyes, and she began to nod from
side to side in her tower. The driver of her elephant, faithful to
his mistress, urged the noble animal forward, who, conscious of her
situation, seemed resolved, by his indomitable wrath, to avenge her
injuries. Whithersover he turned, the impassioned creature trampled
down numbers of the foe.
The spirit of the queen, which had almost departed from her, now
returned. She cheered the elephant in his victorious progress, until
his steps were at length arrested by a net of chains, from which he
could not disentangle himself. She called upon her driver to end
her life with his dagger. He refusing, she snatched the weapon from
his girdle, and plunging it into her bosom, expired. The conquerors
marched on to the town, of which, after brave resistance from the
garrison, they took possession. Loads of timber, and straw, and oil
were collected in a large house, into which the garrison were driven;
the house was then set fire to; the conflagration was awful; the groans
of the victims were so agonizing, that the emperor drew his scymitar,
and hurrying forth from his seat, as if to rescue the unfortunate
sufferers, was met in the crowd of courtiers by an assassin, who struck
a knife up to the hilt into his side.
A faint cry escaped from Jehangire, but such was the confusion of the
moment that nobody seemed to understand what had happened. Flambeaus
were brought. The emperor was found bleeding on the ground, the
knife still remaining in his side. Auzeem, and a body of the omrahs,
immediately bore him into his pavilion, while Bochari, taking with him
the guard of eunuchs, ran to the gate of the screen walls, by which
the imperial tents were surrounded. Cries of treason resounded on all
sides. Suspicion instantly fell upon the Bengalese, who were placed
under arrest. In a few moments the guards of the imperial quarters
brought in a man, whom they found climbing over the screens, and unable
to give any excuse for his conduct. The prisoner turned out to be
one of the attendants of the Bauzigurs. The suspicions against them
were thus turned into certainty, and if the councils of Bochari had
been followed, the seven, and their three followers, would have been
sacrificed on the spot.
Auzeem however interposed, and as the night was now far advanced, it
was resolved that the further investigation into this atrocious deed
should be postponed until the following morning. In the mean-time
orders were issued to suspend the march of the army.
With the returning day, poured into the camp a thousand rumours of the
assassination of the emperor, some representing that he had fallen
a victim to the intrigues of Bochari, who aimed at the throne for
himself; some setting forth that the crime was perpetrated by the
Bengalese, at the instigation of Chusero, while others hinted that
under the influence of too much wine, Jehangire had made an attempt on
his own life. The state physicians pronounced the wound not dangerous,
and promised that the sovereign would be convalescent in a few days,
his weakness at the moment arising from the loss of much blood. This
intelligence diffused satisfaction amongst the troops, and prevented
the tendency to tumult which had already manifested itself.
The Bengalese, and their attendants, having been brought before the
officers of justice, in the tent dedicated to public business, were
examined separately as to their knowledge of the prisoner, whose
efforts to make his escape had necessarily pointed him out as the
principal criminal. Their testimony, given apart from each other,
perfectly agreed in the statement, that the alleged assassin, and
his two companions, had overtaken them on their road to the northern
provinces; communicated to them a message, with which they said they
had been charged by the emperor, to command the attendance of the
Bauzigurs in the camp; and that, in obedience to that supposed order
it was they had sought, and, as they believed, obtained admission to
the imperial presence, which, otherwise, at such a moment, they should
not have thought of soliciting, not imagining, that a great sovereign
actually engaged in preparations for the field, would have had
disposition or leisure for such amusements as their humble skill might
afford.
The fugitive prisoner was next examined. His first statement was,
that being naturally of a timid disposition, when he learned that the
emperor was assassinated, he knew not but that the next victim might
be himself, he being a stranger in the camp, and that he, therefore,
sought safety in flight. Being questioned about his comrades, he
represented them as poor men, who were anxious to better their
fortunes; and that, he being in a similar condition, they had offered
their services to the Bauzigurs, to whom they suggested the probable
benefits of a visit to the imperial camp. Upon being put to the
torture, he admitted that they had fabricated the message to which the
Bauzigurs alluded. His comrades, having been separately interrogated,
disagreed with him and with each other, in so many particulars, and
gave their evidence in a manner so pregnant with suspicion, that they
were also put on the rack. The whole truth at length came out, by
the confession of the youngest of the three, who declared that they
had been employed as emissaries by the insurgents, to explore the
camp, and to ascertain the probable movements of the imperial troops.
With a view, however, to save his own life, he alleged that the
assassination of Jehangire formed the chief object of their mission, if
any opportunity should be presented to them for accomplishing it, and
he said that upon that point they had received their instructions from
Chusero himself.
Upon the conclusion of the investigation, the Bauzigurs were
unanimously acquitted of all participation in the crime; but as
the contrary belief still actuated the great bulk of the troops,
Auzeem caused them to be escorted, the following night by a body of
the household guards, beyond the precincts of the camp. The three
emissaries were condemned to death. They were each stripped naked, and
then clothed in asses’ skins, in which they were led through the camp,
exposed to the derision of the multitude. The shouts that rang the
air, as they passed through the different divisions of the military
assemblage, acted like balm on the wound of the imperial invalid,
who, whatever may have been the errors of his heart or his head,
acknowledged, at all times, that it was his greatest delight to know
and to feel that he was beloved by his people.
As soon as this ceremony was performed, the criminals were sewed up in
skins, which had been previously distended as much as possible, after
having been saturated in water. They were then placed on a sand-bank,
exposed to the hottest rays of the sun, and, by the gradual shrinking
of the hides, their frames were so compressed, that the agonies they
endured were dreadful. To prolong their punishment, water was now and
then sprinkled on the hides, which were again exposed to the sun. They
thus lingered in excruciating agonies for three days, and when at last
the soundless masses proclaimed that they were no longer the abode of
life, they were kicked through the whole assembled army into the river
Sursoom, near which the camp was pitched.
Upon the convalescence of the emperor, the camp was broken up, and the
troops proceeded towards the Sutledge, where the enemy were reported
to have been posted in great force. Jehangire, when mounted once more
on Indragui, resolved on shewing no mercy to a son, who, as the late
occurrence had taught him to believe, was so lost to all sense of
filial recollections, as to meditate the murder of a parent.
In order to escape from the dust of the high road, Jehangire, and
a few of the officers of his staff, took the bye-paths which led
through shady groves and cultivated fields. Perceiving a man coming
towards them, the emperor, who was anxiously watching for some omen of
success, demanded his name. The stranger replied, that his name was
“Mûrad-Khaujah,” signifying the “auspicious.”
“Heaven be praised!” exclaimed the emperor, “my desire shall be
obtained.”
A little farther on they met another man, driving before him an ass
loaded with fire-wood, and having a burthen of brambles on his own
back. He was also called upon to disclose his name, when he declared it
to be “Dowlet-Khaujah.”
Jehangire was in raptures. “Our fortunes would be complete,” said he,
“if we should now meet with a third person, bearing the same name.”
Great, therefore, was his surprise and satisfaction, when observing
a little boy in a field, who was tending a cow grazing, he caused a
similar inquiry to be made. He received for answer, that the boy called
himself “Saadet-Khaujah.”
In order to perpetuate the memory of these happy prognostications,
Jehangire directed that from that moment all the affairs of his
government should be classed under three heads, to be called
“Eymaun-o-Thalâtha,” or the “Three Signs.”
After crossing one of the main branches of the Gogur river, the emperor
learned that there lived in the neighbourhood a recluse, on whose
head fell from the skies every Friday evening throughout the year, a
shower of gold coin. Determined to ascertain the truth of this report,
he proceeded to visit the dervish, whom he found seated on the ground
before the entrance to a cavern, surrounded by four hundred of his
disciples, clothed in skins. The hermit offered to the emperor no token
whatever of respect, although the latter made to him the customary
salaam, in the most humble manner, and did every thing in his power to
entice him into conversation.
At last, after nearly half-an-hour’s uninterrupted silence, the dervish
said,--“I serve that king who sustains rambling about the earth, many
such kings as thou art.” Here another long pause ensued. The emperor
prayed that the hermit would instruct him in his duties. Again awaking
from an apparent lethargy, the dervish sternly said,--“Strive for
the repose of God’s creatures, committed to thy care. In the agents
whom thou mayest employ in the different provinces of thy empire,
be it thy study to discover and reject such as are tyrannical and
rapacious. Pursue and punish the secret perpetrators of murders. Such
men you shall find at Serhind, and elsewhere. Whilst thou hast power,
exercise it discreetly. Cherish the grey beard and the dervish. Scoff
not at the aged man, weighed down by the hand of affliction. Kindle
not the flame which consumes the broken-hearted. Be not at one time a
trifler--at another grave. Art thou full? Give not words to the wind.
Be not evil-minded, lest thy words be evil. Be not slanderous, if thou
wouldst avoid a name of reproach. Let thy treatment of thy eldest son
be merciful, for he is misled.”
To these words, pregnant with sage admonition, and confirmatory of
the omens which had already favoured the progress of the emperor, he
listened with equal admiration and delight. The evening, (it happened
fortunately to be the evening of Friday,) closing in, tapers were
lighted, and the venerable recluse proceeded to the performance of his
devotions, bending his body, at intervals, eight times to the earth.
Immediately afterwards, five of the eldest of his disciples stood
before him in an erect posture, while he raised his hands towards
heaven. He had scarcely commenced this act of adoration, when, all
at once, a shower of golden ashrefies fell on his head from the sky,
which, when collected, amounted in value to a thousand gold rupees.
These coins the hermit divided into two equal parts, one of which he
presented to the emperor, the other he shared amongst his disciples.
Jehangire, desirous of testifying his respect for a recluse of so
much sanctity, offered to endow his cloister with the revenue of the
neighbouring villages, producing annually about fifty thousand gold
rupees, for the subsistence of the devout men who attended upon him.
“Apply your money,” said the saint, “to the support of those whose
reliance is upon human charity. I need it not.”
When the emperor returned to the army, and the news of his visit to
the dervish had spread abroad, it was communicated to him that the
son of Khann-e-Douraun had dared to turn his conduct on the occasion
into ridicule. “How childish!” said he, “in the emperor, to be
magic-blinded by this canting dervish.” Such language as this could
not be overlooked. Jehangire therefore commanded that one side of his
head and face should be flayed, and in that state he was led through
the army, proclamation being made, at the same time, that such was the
punishment which awaited those who applied disrespectful language to
their sovereign. It further appeared that this young man, on a previous
visit to the same dervish, had demeaned himself very contemptuously,
and that the hermit told him he should not go so far as to take his
head, his youth and rashness being beneath his notice; “but,” said
he, “I shall have thee flayed.” Thus were the words of the holy man
fulfilled to the letter.