And shall a king, of nature uncontrolled,
And spirit lofty as his state, submit
To such degrading check? Impossible!
He must and will resent it.--Pray proceed.
HINDOO DRAMA.
Much as the parental heart of Jehangire was afflicted by the obstinacy
of Chusero, in prolonging a civil war that now seemed more unlikely
than ever to favour his designs of usurpation, still the necessity
of an expedition to Cashmere presented some visions to the emperor’s
mind, which were not without their charms. He had heard and read many
panegyrics upon the agreeable climate, the combinations of mountain,
valley, forest, and stream, which gave peculiar features, and
ever-varying beauty to its natural scenery. He had, from his earliest
youth, filled his memory with the legends and traditions which spoke
of its ancient ages of renown. He was conversant with every thing his
favourite poets had written in praise of its flowers and nightingales,
and above all, of the exquisite forms and irresistible attractions
of the maidens, who inhaled the pure and fragrant air of those green
declivities, while chasing the blue butterfly until their cheeks took
the blush of their native rose,--one of the wonders of the world.
Jehangire had often pictured to himself the pleasures he should enjoy,
when relaxing from the cares of empire, he might be at leisure to
wander idly through the groves and saffron-meadows, and pore over the
transparent fountains, of Cashmere. It was, to his fancy, a world set
apart from the busy scenes of life, in which he might altogether divest
himself of the weight and emblems of sovereign authority, and subsiding
to the level of the shepherd and the mountaineer, enjoy those emotions
of independence and happiness which nature loves to bestow upon those,
who worship her amidst the solitudes she has peculiarly consecrated to
her own immortal presence.
Nor was he without the hope--the illusion, perhaps, but still one it
pleased him to indulge--that some happy accident might enable him to
behold once more his son--his rebellious, criminal, and unrepentant
boy--to win him from the unhappy path, on which he had too long
delayed--to forgive him all that had passed--to press him to his
breast, and kindle in his eyes those well-known smiles, so dear to a
parent--so powerful to subdue every feeling of resentment.
No man was less fitted than Jehangire to maintain these continued
struggles between the duties of the sovereign, and the impulses of
the father. The fluctuations between the two characters, though
occasionally terminating on the side of stern justice, preponderated
in the main, in favour of those feelings, which not even gross filial
ingratitude can often eradicate from the parental bosom.
Did Jehangire endeavour to conceal from himself, that whatever there
was of tenderness in the composition of his character--and it is not
to be denied that he had his share--whatever there was in his mental
constitution, which rendered him susceptible of the influence of
poetry, of beautiful scenery, and made him a listener to the mystic
voices that breathe from the recesses of woods, the undulations of
ever-flowing waters, the airy invisible multitudes of insects and
choirs of birds exulting in the felicity of existence--opened out like
the parched flower, expanding to receive the dews of evening, when he
reflected that Cashmere now contained another treasure, more precious
to his soul than a hundred diadems?
“Nourmahal!” What raptures were linked in his mind with that sweet
name! To pronounce it in secret to his own ear, was to summon to his
cheek the very elements of life--to turn him away and detain him, hour
after hour, in the silence and solitude of the night, from all other
thoughts.
Strange to say, Jehangire, though he had abundant cause for complaint
against the political conduct of Afkun, never entertained towards that
distinguished person the slightest feeling of hostility. He never, for
a moment, apprehended that the Turcomanian possessed, or could gain the
affections of Nourmahal, although her legal protector. The relation in
which he stood towards her, invested him, in the contemplation of the
emperor, with a character rather parental than conjugal--and, as such,
estimable on account of its connexion with her preservation, for what,
he hoped, to be her future and higher destinies. He, therefore, heard
with deep pain from Auzeem, of the many base schemes by which Bochari
had attempted to get rid of that great warrior; and it was amongst his
hopes, that, if the expedition to Cashmere should be prosecuted with
success, he might enjoy the opportunity of making some arrangement with
Afkun, by which the ties subsisting between him and Nourmahal, should
be dissolved, without injury to the warrior’s pride, or to the respect
which the monarch, more than any of his subjects, was bound to shew to
the laws of the empire.
To Bochari, Jehangire had not lately ventured to breathe a syllable
about Nourmahal. The hatred which embittered every expression of that
functionary, whenever he had to make mention of Afkun, since the period
of their personal encounter in the Sutledge, was so implacable, that
to speak to him of the one, was only to draw from him a volley of
imprecations as to the other. To Auzeem, however, the emperor did
not hesitate to disclose his most intimate thoughts on all subjects,
especially when shut up together in his private cabinet, whether in
the camp, or in the palace at Lahore, they smoked the chibouque, or
indulged in an extra cup of wine.
It was already perceptible to many persons about the court, that the
influence of Auzeem, in the direction of public affairs, began to
assume a defined character, since the commencement of the civil war.
The title of “My Uncle,” by which Jehangire had always distinguished
him, more in the familiarity of mirth, than from any acknowledgment of
particular esteem, lately seemed, in the opinion of shrewd observers,
to wear a new and more important meaning. Auzeem was not the last to be
sensible of his position. His knowledge of mankind, his acquaintance
with the habits of sovereigns and princes in different countries, and
a cheerfulness of disposition, which taught him at all times to look
at the sunny side of things, enabled him to accommodate himself to
the eccentricities and whims of the emperor, without incurring the
charge of pandering to his vices, or even of encouraging them. In his
laugh and his jest there was always a limit, beyond which the respect
he felt for himself never permitted him to go. He was not ambitious.
He detested intrigue, cabals, and machinations of every description,
whatever the purpose which they contemplated. He looked upon all such
courses as the unequivocal characteristics of that mean order of
intelligence, which, whenever it happens to obtain the ascendancy in
states, never fails, however specious its occasional triumphs, to draw
after it national calamity and degradation.
Jehangire found himself, without intending it, gradually approximating
every day towards Auzeem, and, in the same proportion, diverging
from the path which Bochari had hitherto been accustomed to mark out
for him. The coarseness of language and of manner, the impatience of
contradiction, and the jealousy of supreme control, which on every
occasion, whether of slight or primary importance, characterised the
Persian, were of such common occurrence, that before his accession to
the throne the prince never stopped to analyse or question them. But
after he put on the crown, he more than once felt that the authority
belonging to his station was restrained by a will not his own. This
feeling touched his pride, and broke in upon the inveteracy of habit;
and although the labour of emancipating himself from the domination
to which he was so long subject, deterred him from resolving on any
material change, yet the idea occurred to him that if a change were to
be made, there was no person in whom he would more willingly repose his
confidence than Auzeem.
The latter was not ignorant of the emperor’s prepossession respecting
Nourmahal. To his ear were divulged, through some channel or another,
those secrets of the imperial harem, which, strengthened by his own
keen observation, enabled him to judge that a void existed in that
establishment, not easy to be filled up. The favourite of a former day
complained of the emperor’s indifference--of his abstraction--the long
intervals between his visits to a region which had been accustomed
to his particular attention. There was no recognised sultana. The
consorts of the sovereign appeared to be all upon an equality, much
more mortifying to their pride than a recognised scale of rank. Where
each had as shadowy a right as the other to deem herself preferred,
jealousy became more active, and converted the harem into a theatre of
discord.
Auzeem, it may be supposed, was no admirer of Bochari. Still he did not
wish to make a man accidentally invested with so much power, his enemy.
His mind was the reverse in all things of that of the Persian. But his
experience rendered him circumspect, and taught him to avoid collision
with that dangerous adventurer. Whenever he had occasion to differ from
him in the council, he expressed his opinions mildly--and in the shape
of interrogatory, as if he were seeking for information and advice,
rather than giving both. Thus he had the good fortune to add every
hour to his rising influence with the emperor, without awakening the
suspicions of the commander-in-chief. To military science or experience
Auzeem avowed no claim. On civil matters he might sometimes have an
opinion--which, however, he had no desire to press, or even to shape
for discussion, unless it seemed to others, better qualified than
himself to judge, worth attention.
Like Jehangire, Auzeem had a strong turn for literature and the fine
arts. It was the emperor’s habit, when a sleep of an hour or two
dispelled the effects of his indulgence at the table, to pass a part of
the night in reading, or in having read to him, portions of the history
of his empire, or of the works of the most celebrated poets, and not
unfrequently of the theologians and philosophers, with whose writings
he was remarkably conversant. Auzeem was often his only companion
during those periods of study, which no pressure of public business was
ever allowed to disturb. The uncle and the nephew, if they may be so
described, also resembled each other in a turn for adventure; and when,
after a poem or a tale was concluded, they discussed the incidents and
characters of which it was composed, they often went on to dramatise
situations similar to those of which they had just read, and wove a
series of enterprizes and escapes, to which each contributed a sequel,
until they believed themselves to be altogether transferred to the
world of imagination.
It was in moods such as these, perhaps, that Auzeem learned the whole
extent of the passion nurtured in Jehangire’s bosom for Nourmahal. He
saw that it was a real, unsophisticated, fervent feeling, cherished as
a sacred treasure, subject to no caprice, the same when the emperor’s
mind was agitated, as when reposing in the most serene tranquillity.
The difficulties which stood in the way of his desires, tended, no
doubt, to augment the power which this passion exercised over his
soul. To conquer those difficulties--but at the same time to preserve
a strict and impartial observance of the laws relating to the union
between the sexes, which, in all our communities, whether Mahometan
or Hindoo, are universally held as dear to us as our lives, was the
frequent object of his conferences with Auzeem, from the moment that
the expedition to Cashmere was resolved upon.
It seemed essential, for many reasons, that the troops selected for
that purpose should proceed upon their march without delay. The legion
which the province had already sent to the war having been annihilated,
it became expedient, if practicable, to prevent the subah from
gaining time to form another. While the war lingered in any quarter
of the empire, it afforded a pretext to the disaffected in the other
districts, for questioning the authority by which the imposts were
levied, and for committing various acts of insubordination. As soon,
therefore, as the emperor believed Lahore to be secure from any danger
of a fresh insurrection, and that he had succeeded in purchasing, by
his kindness to all the inhabitants, and his largesses to the persons
who seemed to possess most influence over them, that general good-will
upon which it was his highest ambition to rest the foundations of his
throne, he gave orders for the usual consultation of the astrologers.
The auspicious hour having been ascertained, the troops, consisting
chiefly of light cavalry and light artillery, fitted for mountain
warfare, setting out at the prescribed moment, proceeded on their route
towards Cashmere.
Bochari was fully apprised, from the information of officers who had
already served in that province, of the vast strength of the castle
occupied by Afkun. A small garrison, he learned, was sufficient to
defend it against any force that could be brought to bear upon it.
Raised upon an elevated platform, girdled by a natural rampart of rock,
to which hardly any artificial additions were necessary, completely
insulated by a deep moat filled with water, containing within itself
ample resources in wells, in granaries for every kind of supplies,
in woods and gardens,--in short, every thing conducive not only to
subsistence, but to the convenience of life, such a fortress seemed
capable of defying every ordinary resource of war.
Finding it, therefore, necessary to avail himself of such other means
of success as circumstances might render expedient, Bochari conceived
the design of summoning Kazim Ayas and the mother of Nourmahal to the
presence of the emperor, with a view to treat them as hostages, to be
dealt with as he might decide, in case the Turcomanian’s stronghold
should turn out to be otherwise unassailable.
If Nourmahal possessed the power over her husband with which her
fascinations, so much talked of, were supposed to invest her, she would
not, he thought, refuse to apply it for the preservation of those
so dear to her, should their lives be fixed upon as a price for the
surrender of the castle.
This design, worthy of his character, he took care to conceal from the
knowledge of the emperor. To him Bochari represented the difficulties
that might present themselves in the capture of the strongest fortress
of the empire; adding that it might therefore be useful to send for
Kazim Ayas and Mangeli, in order that they might, as they were bound
to do, by the high office which the chancellor held, and by their
allegiance, and gratitude for many honours conferred upon them, exert
their best influence with their son-in-law to induce him to acknowledge
the authority of the rightful sovereign, and to give up the rebellious
Chusero.
The plan, placed in the latter point of view, coincided so agreeably
with the emperor’s projects in other respects, that he felt no
hesitation in assenting to it. Letters were in consequence forthwith
despatched to Agra, commanding Kazim and Mangeli to follow the emperor
without delay to Cashmere, and authorising the chancellor to delegate
the duties of his office, during his absence, to a commissioner named
by himself for that purpose. The parents of Nourmahal received the
mandate with feelings of unqualified delight. The hope of soon again
embracing their child, put aside all thoughts of the inconvenience of
so long a journey, and Kazim, moreover, flattered himself with the
expectation that, through his interference, Afkun might be dissuaded
from pursuing any farther a line of conduct not likely to serve the
cause of Chusero, or to redound to his own credit.