CHAPTER XII.

“But they shall not obtain that for which they have

perpetrated their wicked deed.

“And in place of benefit I will send them wretchedness.

“Lo! they shall meet with retribution.”

PERSIAN PROPHETS.

A general sense of alarm appeared to pervade the population of Agra,

upon its being made known that the emperor had returned to his palace,

without any of those exhibitions of triumph by which they conceived he

ought to have been accompanied on such an occasion. One of the most

formidable rebellions which had for many years disturbed the peace of

Hindostan, had been completely put down. The arms of Jehangire had not

only vindicated his right to the throne, but had been wielded with a

degree of valour, worthy of the best days of Acbar. Even to the omrahs,

and the troops who had distinguished themselves in the war, a public

entry into the capital, upon their return from the northern provinces,

was eminently due. But nothing of the kind was now to be expected.

The emperor had come back almost by stealth. It was ascertained that

he had arrived in a small boat by the Jumna, and landing at a private

staircase, that led into the seraglio, was conducted to his apartments

as if he had been a captive, instead of a conqueror.

It was soon after further ascertained, that the omrahs, whose duty

it was, from their high birth, as well as from official station, to

keep guard at the palace, had been already displaced, and that their

functions were entrusted to common spearmen, members of that corps of

Orcha rajaputs, on whom the commander-in-chief seemed now resolved

to lavish all his favours. The very name of these troops was odious

in Agra. They were the known--unpunished--detested assassins of the

lamented Fazeel. They had taken no part in the late war. They had

been sent for by Bochari, while he was upon the march to Cashmere. It

was said, that besides their stipend from the treasury, he presented

them with double pay from his own purse; that they were, therefore,

instruments entirely subservient to his will, and that the late

revolt, though completely extinct, was to be made the pretext for new

regulations in the government of the most tyrannical nature.

The public audiences, given from time immemorial by the emperors,

were discontinued. No person was allowed access to Jehangire, except

Bochari, and those specially furnished with his permission--and then

he could only be seen surrounded by a guard of the Orcha chieftains.

The reason assigned by the Persian for these extraordinary precautions

was, that he possessed in his hands undoubted evidence of a conspiracy,

in which most of the omrahs, and many of the inhabitants of Agra,

were engaged, the object of which was to assassinate the emperor, and

to raise Chusero to the throne. One of the chief conspirators, he

alleged, was the high-chancellor, against whom proceedings were about

to be instituted forthwith.

These tidings, with the many false or exaggerated rumours to which

they gave birth, diffused a deep gloom over the whole capital. The

occupations and amusements of the people were, in a great measure,

suspended. Men were afraid to converse with each other upon any

matter relating to the empire, lest they should incur the vengeance

of Bochari, whose emissaries, profusely paid out of the imperial

treasury, were known to be actively employed in all directions. The

prisons were filled with persons of note, who had been apprehended upon

the denunciations of these spies, without the slightest proof of any

offence being brought against them. Each succeeding morning teemed with

mysterious reports of new arrests, and of secret decapitations, carried

into effect in defiance of every established form of legal procedure.

This calamitous state of things continued for several months, during

which it became manifest that Bochari was the real master of the

empire, although the public ordinances were still signed by Jehangire.

He did not yet venture to displace the subahs of the provinces, who

had been appointed previously to the expedition to Cashmere. It was

not concealed, however, that they were all distributed amongst the

Orcha chieftains, who were to take possession of their offices as

soon as they could be spared from attendance in the capital. As they

constituted the principal support of the usurper, he feigned a variety

of excuses, from time to time, in order to detain them near his person.

Zeinedeen, who was obliged to act with the greatest circumspection,

notwithstanding the sacredness usually attached to his character as a

dervish, did not fail to convey to Kazim accurate intelligence of these

events, which, he very justly stated, were felt with tenfold severity

by the people of Agra, as they were no longer under the protection of

the high-chancellor. While he was to be seen, they said, in the seat of

judgment, they smoked their chibouques in tranquillity, because they

knew that no injustice could reach them, if the administration of the

law were in the hands of Kazim Ayas.

The first act of open resistance to the absolute authority exercised

by Bochari during a period of more than twelve months, occurred in

consequence of an attempt that was made by his order to raze the

mansion of the high chancellor to the ground. A private execution might

be attended with serious consequences the moment it became known. An

open trial might prove equally perilous. In order to feel the public

pulse with respect to his desired victim, he instructed his myrmidons

to proceed to that officer’s state residence, on the bank of the Jumna,

and to demolish it. The design became known, however, and the persons

employed to effect it no sooner commenced operations than an immense

crowd assembled at the place, and assailed them with bitter reproaches.

The men persevered,--troops having in the mean time arrived to their

assistance. This was the signal for a general tumult. A part of the

building had been already thrown down. The materials were made use of

by the people as missiles, which they hurled against their antagonists.

The cavalry found it impossible to act, so dense was the crowd by which

their movements were impeded. They were slaughtered in detail, and in

a few moments the whole of the workmen assembled to execute the orders

of Bochari, were compelled to fly from the ground.

This event filled his mind with alarm. It demonstrated to him the very

slight foundation upon which his power was based, although it had

been suffered to continue so long, without meeting any considerable

opposition. He had failed, it was true, to obtain the concurrence of

any of the principal omrahs or rajahs in his system of tyranny. But

before this occurrence he felt an impression that his authority, armed

as it was with all the terrors which his position enabled him to call

to his assistance, was too formidable to permit of any serious attempt

at resistance. He trembled on his pinnacle.

The long year already spent by Kazim and his family within the walls of

their prison, seemed nevertheless likely to be succeeded by another.

From an early period the governor of the citadel had been displaced,

because he was suspected of being favourable to their interests. The

estates bestowed upon Kazim, by Acbar and Jehangire, as rewards for his

important services to the empire, had been confiscated. His property of

a moveable nature, consisting of money, household furniture, horses,

and cattle of every description, had been seized and distributed,

as well as his estates, amongst the Orcha rajaputs whose rapacity

was insatiable. His office was abolished as no longer necessary in a

country, that had ceased to be governed by law. He and his wife and

daughter were studiously subjected to every species of privation. No

other food was allowed them than that which was daily divided among the

meanest prisoners,--rice, barley bread, and water. They were indeed

suffered to retain three female slaves, the daughters of a nurse

who had formerly lived in Kazim’s family. But no other persons were

permitted to enter their apartments, Zeinedeen alone excepted.

These persecutions, accumulated one upon another, and accompanied

with every petty circumstance of mortification which the Persian

could invent, at first produced a sensible effect upon the health

and spirits of Mangeli. But the mild suggestions of her husband, and

the affectionate attentions of Nourmahal, whose character now shone

out in all its native dignity and beauty, soon beguiled her from the

melancholy anticipations in which she was prone to indulge.

“We are, it is true,” he would say, “deprived of station, fortune, and

liberty. But we suffer in common with many others, who possess not our

resources for rendering these evils tolerable. Disease takes from some

the power of enjoyment in the midst of riches. We still have health. As

to high station, it can hardly be desirable to any elevated mind in the

present state of Hindostan; and the sense of freedom is in our souls,

although we are confined personally within these three chambers.

“At all events let us not shadow out new misfortunes before they

actually come. When they do arrive, they are seldom so difficult to

bear as we imagine. Something altogether unforeseen occurs to limit

their duration, or to disarm them of their terrors. By anticipating

them, we give them reality so far as mental pain is concerned, when

in fact they may never approach us; and when they do, we suffer them

over again, thus unnecessarily doubling the affliction, with which they

would have been otherwise attended.”

Nourmahal was not long in reducing to practice the resolutions,

which had often passed through her mind, as to providing against the

pressure of calamity, such as that in which she and her beloved

parents were now involved. She found means, through Zeinedeen’s

co-operation, of disposing of the jewels and trinkets which she

fortunately happened to have about her person, on the night of her

escape from the fortress, when she was so suddenly transferred from

the ball-room to the hermitage. The produce of these articles enabled

her to purchase, not merely the ordinary necessaries, but even some of

the luxuries of life, to which her parents had been accustomed; and,

moreover, a considerable quantity of brocade, silks, muslins, and other

materials, which, with the assistance of her attendants, she converted

into dresses of the most elegant description. Those maidens were at

first little versed in this sort of employment, but she spared no pains

in instructing them. Her patience, in shewing them how to execute their

work with the requisite degree of neatness, was admirable.

Never perhaps did Kazim contemplate his daughter with a warmer

affection, or, more properly speaking, with a higher degree of

gratitude to Heaven, for having given him such a child, than when he

beheld her engaged in teaching those young women the very rudiments of

needlework, with which they had been before unacquainted, as they had

been brought up to the employment of cultivating flowers, destined to

be sold in the market of Agra. But they were of docile dispositions,

and they soon learned from their young mistress how to perform, with

readiness and precision, their assigned tasks, and even to bestow upon

them those little graces beyond the reach of mechanism, which flowed so

naturally from her own hand.

Nothing could be more beautiful than the flowered muslins which

emanated occasionally from this domestic factory. It was Nourmahal’s

habit to draw the flowers first, and then when her fancy was pleased,

not only with their form, but their variety, to work them herself upon

the plain muslin. She did not follow the usual fashion of strewing only

one species of flower upon the material. She selected such as in colour

and feature best harmonised together, and these she disposed within

her tambour frame so tastefully, that the eye was at once struck with

the novelty, and captivated with the poetic elegance of her invention.

By the industry of her handmaids, these specimens of her art were

multiplied. They found a ready sale in the bazaars of Agra, and of

Delhi, whither they were conveyed by the care of Zeinedeen, and were

speedily so much in vogue amongst the ladies of the two cities, who

converted them into turbans, that the supply was seldom adequate to the

demand.

In the same manner, the dresses in brocade and rich silks, which were

executed by Nourmahal and her gentle companions, were acknowledged,

even by persons the most experienced in the manufacture of female

apparel, to be inimitable. Even when nothing was done to improve the

texture of the material, there was an effect about the fashion of the

robe itself, which pronounced it to be fit only for a noble woman. But

when to the texture were added ornaments in gold or silver--whether

they assumed the resemblance of flowers, or bees, or butterflies, or

the insects that illuminate the forest, or the fishes that lighten over

the deep,--it was said that none but empresses ought to be allowed to

assume such splendid vestments.

Nourmahal, an Oriental romance. Vol. 3 of 3 · 第 3 / 10 章