“Though a king should seize the seven climes,60

He still would labour to take others.”

I promoted Mīrzā S͟hāhruk͟h,61 grandson of Mīrzā Sulaimān, (once) the ruler of Badakhshan, who was nearly related to my family, and held the rank of 5,000 in my father’s service, to the rank of 7,000. The Mīrzā is a true Turk in disposition and simple-minded. My father conferred great honour on him, and whenever he bade his own sons sit he gratified him also with this distinction. Notwithstanding the mischievous propensities of the people of Badakhshan, the Mīrzā in this familiarity never left the right road, or undertook anything that might lead to unpleasantness. I confirmed him in the Subah of Malwa just as my father had kindly conferred it on him.

I conferred on K͟hwāja ʿAbdu-llah, who is of the Naqs͟hbandī family, and in the commencement of his service was an ahadi, and who had risen by degrees to the command of 1,000, but without reason had gone into my father’s service, the rank and jagir my father had conferred on him. Although I considered it best for my own prosperity that my attendants and people should go into his (Akbar’s) service, yet this had occurred without my leave, and I was rather annoyed at it. But the fact is that he is a manly and zealous man; if he had not committed this fault he would have been a faultless hero (jawān).

Abū-n-nabī,62 the Ūzbeg, who is one of the distinguished inhabitants of Māwarāʾa-n-nahr and in the time of ʿAbdu-l-Muʾmīn K͟hān was governor of Mashhad, obtained the rank of 1,500.

S͟haik͟h Ḥasan is the son of S͟haik͟h Bahā.63 From the days of his childhood to this day he has always been in my service and in attendance on me, and when I was prince was distinguished by the title of Muqarrab K͟hān. He was very active and alert in his service, and in hunting would often traverse long distances by my side. He is skilful with the arrow and the gun, and in surgery is the most skilful of his time. His ancestors also had been well practised in this profession. After my accession, in consequence of the perfect confidence I had in him, I sent him to Burhanpur to bring the children and dependants of my brother Dāniyāl to wait on me, and sent a message to the K͟hānk͟hānān in low and high words64 and profitable admonitions. Muqarrab K͟hān performed this service correctly and in a short time, and, clearing off the suspicions which had entered the minds of the K͟hānk͟hānān and the nobles of that place, brought those who had been left behind by my brother in safety and security, together with his establishment and property and effects, to Lahore, and there presented them before me.

I promoted Naqīb K͟hān,65 who is one of the genuine Sayyids of Qazwīn and is called G͟hiyās̤u-d-dīn ʿAlī, to the rank of 1,500. My father had distinguished him with the title of Naqīb K͟hān, and in his service he had complete intimacy and consideration. Shortly after his accession he (Akbar) had discussed several matters with him, and from this familiarity he called him āk͟hūnd. He has no equal or rival in the science of history and in biographies. There is in this day no chronologist like him in the inhabited world. From the beginning of Creation till the present time, he has by heart the tale of the four quarters of the world. Has Allah granted to any other person such faculty of memory?

S͟haik͟h Kabīr, who was of the family of the venerable S͟haik͟h Salīm, I had honoured with the title of S͟hajāʿat K͟hān when I was prince, on account of his manliness and bravery. I now selected him for the rank of 1,000.

On Shaʿbān 27th (28th December, 1605) a strange thing was done by the sons of Akhayrāj, son of Bhagwān Dās, the paternal uncle66 of Raja Mān Singh. These unlucky ones, who bore the names of Abhay Rām, Bijay Rām, and Shyām Rām, were exceedingly immoderate. Notwithstanding that the aforesaid Abhay Rām had done improper (disproportioned) acts, I had winked at his faults. When at this date it was represented to me that this wretch was desirous of despatching his wives and children without leave to his own country and afterwards of himself running away to the Rānā, who is not loyal to this family, I referred to Rām Dās and other Rajput nobles, and said to them that if any one of them would become security for them, I would confirm the rank and jagir of those wretches, and passing over their offences would forgive them. In consequence of their excessive turbulence and bad disposition no one became security. I told the Amīru-l-umarā that as no one would be bound for them, they must be handed over to the charge of one of the servants of the Court until security was forthcoming. The Amīru-l-umarā gave them over to Ibrāhīm K͟hān Kākar, who was afterwards dignified with the title of Dilāwar K͟hān, and Ḥātim,67 second son of Manglī, who held the title of S͟hāhnawāz K͟hān.68 When these wished to disarm these foolish people, they refused, and, not observing the dues of good manners, began, together with their servants, to quarrel and fight. The Amīru-l-umarā reported the circumstance to me, and I ordered them to be punished according to their deeds. He betook himself to driving them off, and I sent S͟haik͟h Farīd also after him. One Rajput armed with a sword, and another with a dagger stood up to the Amīru-l-umarā. One of his attendants named Qut̤b engaged the man with the dagger and was killed. The Rajput also was cut to pieces. One of the Afghan attendants of the Amīru-l-umarā attacked the one who had the sword and killed him. Dilāwar K͟hān drew his dagger and turned towards Abhay Rām, who with two others was holding his ground, and after wounding one of these fell down after receiving wounds from the three. Some of the ahadis and the men of the Amīru-l-umarā opposed and slew these doomed men. A Rajput drew his sword and turned to S͟haik͟h Farīd; he was met by a Ḥabs͟hī slave, who brought him down. This disturbance took place in the courtyard of the public palace. That punishment served as a warning to many who had not looked to consequences. Abū-n-nabī69 represented that if such a deed had been done in the Ūzbeg country the whole family and connections of that band of men would have been destroyed. I replied that as these people had been treated kindly and educated by my revered father I carried on the same benevolence to them, and justice demands that many shall not be chastised for the fault of one.

S͟haik͟h Ḥusain Jāmī, who now sits on the cushion of darwīs͟hī and is one of the disciples of the dervish of Shiraz,70 had written to me from Lahore six months before my accession that he had seen in a dream that saints and pious men had delivered over the affairs of the kingdom to that chosen one of the Court of Allah (Jahāngīr), and that, rejoicing in this good news, he should await the event, and that he hoped that when it had occurred, the faults of K͟hwāja Zakariyyā, who was one of the Aḥrāriyya,71 would be pardoned.72

I conferred on Tās͟h Beg Furjī,73 who was one of the old servants of the State, and whom my father had honoured with the title of Tāj K͟hān, and who had the rank of 2,000, that of 3,000, and I raised Tuk͟hta74 Beg Kābulī from the rank of 2,500 to that of 3,000. He is a brave and active man, and was greatly trusted in the service of my uncle, Mīrzā Muḥammad Ḥakīm. I promoted Abū-l-Qāsim Tamkīn,75 who was one of my father’s old servants, to the rank of 1,500. There are few men such as he for abundance of children; he has thirty sons, and if his daughters do not number so many they must be half that number. I dignified S͟haik͟h ʿAlāʾu-d-dīn, grandson of S͟haik͟h Salīm, who had strong connections with me, with the title of Islām K͟hān, and promoted him to the rank of 2,000. He had grown up with me from his childhood, and may be a year younger than I. He is a brave and well-dispositioned youth, and is distinguished in every way above his family. Till now he has never drunk intoxicating drinks, and his sincerity towards me is such that I have honoured him with the title of son.

I have bestowed on ʿAlī Aṣg͟har Bārha, who has not a rival in bravery and zeal, and is the son of Sayyid Maḥmūd K͟hān Bārha, one of my father’s old nobles, the title of Saif K͟hān, and thus distinguished him amongst his equals and connections. He is evidently a brave youth. He was always one of the confidential men who went with me to hunt and to other places. He has never in his life drunk anything intoxicating, and as he has abstained in his youth he probably will attain high dignities. I granted him the rank of 3,000.

I promoted Farīdūn, son of Muḥammad Qulī K͟hān Barlās, who held the rank of 1,000, to that of 2,000. Farīdūn is one of the tribe of Chag͟hatāy, and is not devoid of manliness and courage.

I promoted S͟haik͟h Bāyazīd, grandson of S͟haik͟h Salīm, who held the rank of 2,000, to that of 3,000. The first person who gave me milk, but for not more than a day, was the mother of S͟haik͟h Bāyazīd.

76One day I observed to the Pandits, that is, the wise men of the Hindus, “If the doctrines of your religion are based on the incarnation of the Holy Person of God Almighty in ten different forms by the process of metempsychosis, they are virtually rejected by the intelligent. This pernicious idea requires that the Sublime Cause, who is void of all limitations, should be possessed of length, breadth, and thickness. If the purpose is the manifestation of the Light of God in these bodies, that of itself is existent equally in all created things, and is not peculiar to these ten forms. If the idea is to establish some one of God’s attributes, even then there is no right notion, for in every faith and code there are masters of wonders and miracles distinguished beyond the other men of their age for wisdom and eloquence.”77 After much argument and endless controversy, they acknowledged a God of Gods, devoid of a body or accidents,78 and said, “As our imagination fails to conceive a formless personality (ẕāt-i-mujarrad), we do not find any way to know Him without the aid of a form. We have therefore made these ten forms the means of conceiving of and knowing Him.” Then said I, “How can these forms be a means of your approaching the Deity?”

My father always associated with the learned of every creed and religion, especially with Pandits and the learned of India, and although he was illiterate, so much became clear to him through constant intercourse with the learned and wise, in his conversations with them, that no one knew him to be illiterate, and he was so acquainted with the niceties of verse and prose compositions that his deficiency was not thought of.

In his august personal appearance he was of middle height, but inclining to be tall; he was of the hue of wheat; his eyes and eyebrows were black, and his complexion rather dark than fair; he was lion-bodied,79 with a broad chest, and his hands and arms long. On the left side of his nose he had a fleshy mole, very agreeable in appearance, of the size of half a pea. Those skilled in the science of physiognomy considered this mole a sign of great prosperity and exceeding good fortune. His august voice was very loud, and in speaking and explaining had a peculiar richness. In his actions and movements he was not like the people of the world, and the glory of God manifested itself in him.

“Greatness in his manner, kingship in his lineage,

As if Solomon would have put the ring on his finger.”80

Three months after my birth my sister, S͟hāhzāda K͟hānam, was born to one of the royal concubines; they gave her over to his (Akbar’s) mother, Maryam Makānī. After her a son was born to one of the concubines, and received the name of S͟hāh Murād. As his birth occurred in the hill country of Fatḥpūr, he was nicknamed Pahārī. When my revered father sent him to conquer the Deccan, he had taken to excessive drinking through associating with unworthy persons, so that he died in his 30th year, in the neighbourhood of Jālnāpūr, in the province of Berar. His personal appearance was fresh-coloured; he was thin in body and tall of stature. Dignity and authority were evident in his movements, and manliness and bravery manifested themselves in his ways. On the night of Jumādā-l-awwal 10th, A.H. 979 (September, 1572), another son was born to one of the concubines. As his birth took place at Ajmīr in the house of one of the attendants of the blessed shrine of the reverend K͟hwāja Muʿīnu-d-dīn Chis͟htī, whose name was S͟haik͟h Dāniyāl, this child was called Dāniyāl.

After the death of my brother S͟hāh Murād, he (Akbar), towards the end of his reign, sent Dāniyāl to conquer the Deccan and followed him himself. When my revered father was besieging Āsīr (Āsīrgarh) he, with a large body of nobles such as the K͟hānk͟hānān and his sons and Mīrzā Yūsuf K͟hān, invested the fort of Ahmadnagar, and it came into the possession of the victorious officers about the time that Āsīr was taken. After my father ʿArs͟h-ās͟hyānī had returned in prosperity and victory from Burhanpur towards his capital, he gave the province to Dāniyāl and left him in possession of that territory. Dāniyāl took to improper ways, like his brother S͟hāh Murād, and soon died from excessive drinking, in the 33rd year of his age. His death occurred in a peculiar way. He was very fond of guns and of hunting with the gun. He named one of his guns yaka u janāza, ‘the same as the bier,’ and himself composed this couplet and had it engraved on the gun:—

“From the joy of the chase with thee, life is fresh and new;

To everyone whom thy dart strikes, ‘tis the same as his bier.”81

When his drinking of wine was carried to excess, and the circumstance was reported to my father, farmans of reproach were sent to the K͟hānk͟hānān. Of course he forbade it, and placed cautious people to look after him properly. When the road to bring wine was completely closed, he began to weep and to importune some of his servants, and said: “Let them bring me wine in any possible way.” He said to Murs͟hid Qulī K͟hān, a musketeer who was in his immediate service: “Pour some wine into this yaka u janāza, and bring it to me.” That wretch, in hope of favour, undertook to do this, and poured double-distilled spirit into the gun, which had long been nourished on gunpowder and the scent thereof, and brought it. The rust of the iron was dissolved by the strength of the spirit and mingled with it, and the prince no sooner drank of it than he fell down.

“No one should draw a bad omen:82

If he does, he draws it for himself.”

Dāniyāl was of pleasing figure, of exceedingly agreeable manners and appearance; he was very fond of elephants and horses. It was impossible for him to hear of anyone as having a good horse or elephant and not take it from him. He was fond of Hindi songs, and would occasionally compose verses with correct idiom in the language of the people of India, which were not bad.

After the birth of Dāniyāl a daughter was born to Bībī Daulat-S͟hād whom they named S͟hakaru-n-nisā Begam.83 As she was brought up in the skirt of my revered father’s care, she turned out very well. She is of good disposition and naturally compassionate towards all people. From infancy and childhood she has been extremely fond of me, and there can be few such relationships between brother and sister. The first time when, according to the custom of pressing the breast of a child and a drop of milk is perceptible, they pressed my sister’s breast and milk appeared, my revered father said to me: “Bābā! drink this milk, that in truth this sister may be to thee as a mother.” God, the knower of secrets, knows that from that day forward, after I drank that drop of milk, I have felt love for my sister such as children have for their mothers.

After some time another girl was born to this same Bībī Daulat-S͟hād, and he (Akbar) called her Ārām Bānū Begam.84 Her disposition was on the whole inclined to excitement and heat. My father was very fond of her, so much so that he described her impolitenesses as politenesses, and in his august sight they, from his great love, did not appear bad. Repeatedly he honoured me by addressing me, and said: “Bābā! for my sake be as kind as I am, after me, to this sister, who in Hindi phrase is my darling (that is, dearly cherished). Be affectionate to her and pass over her little impolitenesses and impudences.”

The good qualities of my revered father are beyond the limit of approval and the bounds of praise. If books were composed with regard to his commendable dispositions, without suspicion of extravagance, and he be not looked at as a father would be by his son, even then but a little out of much could be said.

Notwithstanding his kingship and his treasures and his buried wealth, which were beyond the scope of counting and imagination, his fighting elephants and Arab horses, he never by a hair’s breadth placed his foot beyond the base of humility before the throne of God, but considered himself the lowest of created beings, and never for one moment forgot God.

“Always, everywhere, with everyone, and in every circumstance,

Keep the eye of thy heart secretly fixed on the Beloved.”

The professors of various faiths had room in the broad expanse of his incomparable sway. This was different from the practice in other realms, for in Persia85 there is room for Shias only, and in Turkey, India, and Tūrān there is room for Sunnis only.

As in the wide expanse of the Divine compassion there is room for all classes and the followers of all creeds, so, on the principle that the Shadow86 must have the same properties as the Light, in his dominions, which on all sides were limited only by the salt sea, there was room for the professors of opposite religions, and for beliefs good and bad, and the road to altercation was closed. Sunnis and Shias met in one mosque, and Franks and Jews in one church, and observed their own forms of worship.

He associated with the good of every race and creed and persuasion, and was gracious to all in accordance with their condition and understanding. He passed his nights in wakefulness, and slept little in the day; the length of his sleep during a whole night and day (nycthemeron) was not more than a watch and a half. He counted his wakefulness at night as so much added to his life. His courage and boldness were such that he could mount raging, rutting elephants, and subdue to obedience murderous elephants which would not allow their own females near them—although even when an elephant is bad-tempered he does no harm to the female or his driver—and which were in a state in which they might have killed their drivers or the females, or not have allowed their approach. He would place himself on a wall or tree near which an elephant was passing that had killed its mahout and broken loose from restraint, and, putting his trust in God’s favour, would throw himself on its back and thus by merely mounting, would bring it under control and tame it. This was repeatedly seen.

He ascended the throne in his 14th year. Hemū, the infidel whom the Afghan ruler had raised to high station, collected a wonderful force after King Humāyūn’s death with a stud of elephants such as no ruler of Hindustan had at that time, and he went towards Delhi. Humāyūn had appointed Akbar to drive off some of the Afghans from the foot-hills of the Panjab, but just then he exemplified the hemistich which is a description of the accident and the chronogram of his death—

“The august monarch (Humāyūn) fell from the roof. The news (of the death) was conveyed to my father by Naz̤ar-jīvī.”87

Bairām K͟hān, who was then his tutor, having collected the nobles who were in the province, chose an auspicious hour and seated him on the throne of rule in pargana Kalānūr, near Lahore.

When Hemū reached the neighbourhood of Delhi, Tardī Beg K͟hān and a large force that was in the city drew up to oppose him. When the preparations for the combat had been made the armies attacked one another, and, after considerable endeavours and strife, defeat fell on Tardī Beg K͟hān and the Moguls, and the army of darkness overcame the army of light.

“All things and battles and fights are of God,

He knows whose will be the victory.

From the blood of the brave and the dust of the troops,

The earth grew red and the heavens black.”

Tardī Beg K͟hān and the other defeated ones took the road to my revered father’s camp. As Bairām K͟hān disliked Tardī Beg, he made this defeat an excuse to put him to death.

A second time, through the pride engendered in the mind of this accursed infidel by his victory, he came out of Delhi with his force and elephants and advanced, while the glorious standards of His Majesty (Akbar) proceeded from Kalānūr for the purpose of driving him away. The armies of darkness and light met in the neighbourhood of Panipat, and on Thursday, Muḥarram 2nd, A.H. 964 (November 5th, 1556), a fight took place. In the army of Hemū were 30,000 brave fighting horsemen, while the g͟hāzīs of the victorious army were not more than 4,000 or 5,000. On that day Hemū was riding an elephant named Hawāʾī. Suddenly an arrow struck the eye of that infidel and came out at the back of his head. His army, on seeing this, took to flight. By chance S͟hāh Qulī K͟hān Maḥram with a few brave men came up to the elephant on which was the wounded Hemū, and would have shot an arrow at the driver, but he cried “Do not kill me; Hemū is on this elephant.” A number of men immediately conveyed Hemū as he was to the king (Akbar). Bairām K͟hān represented that it would be proper if the king with his own hand should strike the infidel with a sword, so that obtaining the reward of a g͟hāzī (warrior of the Faith) he might use this title on the imperial farmans. The king answered, “I have cut him in pieces before this,” and explained: “One day, in Kabul, I was copying a picture in presence of K͟hwājaʿAbdu-ṣ-Ṣamad S͟hīrīn Qalam, when a form appeared from my brush, the parts of which were separate and divided from each other. One of those near asked, ‘Whose picture is this?’ It came to my tongue to say that it was the likeness of Hemū.” Not defiling his hand with his (Hemū’s) blood, he told one of his servants to cut off his head. Those killed in the defeated army numbered 5,000 in addition to those who fell in various places round about.

Another of the well-known deeds of Akbar was the victorious expedition against Gujarat, and his rapid march there, at the time when Mīrzā Ibrāhīm Ḥusain, Muḥammad Ḥusain Mīrzā, and S͟hāh Mīrzā revolted from this State and went towards Gujarat, and all the nobles of that province, combining with the turbulent of those parts, besieged the fort of Ahmadabad in which was Mīrzā ʿAzīz Koka with the royal army. His Majesty, in consequence of the distracted state of Jījī Angā, the mother of the last-named Mīrzā, started for Gujarat with a body of royal troops without delay from the capital of Fatḥpūr. Having covered in the space of nine days the long road which it should take two months to accomplish, sometimes on horseback, sometimes on a camel or in a bullock-cart, he arrived at Sarnāl.

When, on 5th Jumādā-l-awwal, 980 (September 15th, 1572), he reached the neighbourhood of the enemy’s camp, he consulted with those who were loyal to him. Some said he should make a night attack on the camp. His Majesty, however, said that a night attack was the resort of the faint-hearted and the way of the deceitful, and immediately gave orders to beat the drums and set the horsemen at them. When the river Sābar Mahī (Sābarmatī) was reached, he ordered his men to cross it in order. Muḥammad Ḥusain Mīrzā was agitated by the noise of the army of victory, and himself came forward to reconnoitre. Subḥān Qulī Turk, also with a troop of brave men, went to the river’s bank to enquire into the enemy’s position. The Mīrzā asked what troops these were. Subḥān Qulī replied that they were of the army of King Jalālu-d-dīn Akbar. That ill-fated one would not believe this, and said his spies had seen the king fourteen days before in Fatḥpūr, and that it was clear Subḥān Qulī was lying. To this Subḥān Qulī rejoined, “Nine days ago the king with this expedition started from Fatḥpūr.” “How could elephants have come?”88 asked the Mīrzā. “What need was there of elephants?” answered Subḥān Qulī. “Young men and heroes who cleave rocks, and are better than famous and raging elephants, have come; the difference between loyalty and sedition will now become known.” The Mīrzā, after this conversation, turned aside and began to marshal his troops. The king waited until his advanced guard sent word that the enemy had put on their armour. He then moved forward, and although he sent several times to order the K͟hān Aʿz̤am to advance, the latter stood still. It was said to Akbar that, as the enemy was in force, it would be well to remain on his side of the river until the army of Gujarat arrived from within the fort. His Majesty answered: “Always, and especially in this affair, I have put my trust in God. If I had considered routine, I should not have come in this rapid manner. Now that our foe is ready for the fight, we ought not to delay.” With these words, and with his innate reliance on God as his shield, he put his horse into the river with a few chosen men whom he had appointed to ride with him. Though it was not supposed that there was a ford, he crossed in safety. He had called for his helmet, but in the agitation of bringing it his armour-bearer dropped the face-guard (buffe). His comrades did not regard this as a good omen, but he said at once, “It is an excellent omen, for it has revealed my face.”89 Meantime the wretched Mīrzā arrayed his ranks to fight his benefactor.

“If thou come out (to fight) with thy benefactor,

If thou wert the sphere, thou wouldest be reversed.”

The K͟hān Aʿz̤am had had no idea that the king would cast the shadow of his compassion on these regions with such speed and eagerness, and he believed no one who gave him news of that arrival, until convinced by visible proof. Then, arraying the army of Gujarat, he prepared to march. Meanwhile Āṣaf K͟hān also sent news to him. Before his army issued from the fort the enemy had appeared from amongst the trees. The king, taking the Divine aid as the security of his courage, started off. Muḥammad Qulī K͟hān Turk and Tardī K͟hān Dīwāna came forward with a band of brave followers, and after a little fighting turned rein. On this His Majesty said to Bhagwān Dās, “The enemy are unnumbered and we are few; we must attack with one face and one heart; for a clenched fist is more useful than an open hand.” With these words he drew his sword, and with shout of Allahu-akbar and Yā Muʿīn90 charged with those devoted to him.

“The sense of the age evaporated with the clamour,

The ear of the heavens was split with the shouts.”

The royal right and left wings and a band of brave men in the centre fought with valour. Stars (kaukabāʾī), which are a kind of firework, were lighted by the enemy; they twisted about among the thorn-bushes, and created such confusion that a noted elephant of the enemy began to move and threw their troops into disarray. With this the royal centre came up and dispersed Muḥammad Ḥusain and his force. Mān Singh Darbārī overcame his foe under the king’s eyes, and Rāgho Dās Kachhwāha sacrificed his life. Muḥammad Wafā, who was of the house-born of the State, behaving very bravely, fell wounded from his horse. By the favour of the Creator who cherishes His servants, and simply through the courage and good fortune of the exalted king, the enemy were scattered and defeated. In gratitude for this great victory the king turned his face in supplication to the throne of his merciful Maker, and poured forth his thanks.

One of the kalāwants (musicians) represented to His Majesty that Saif K͟hān Kokaltās͟h had offered the coin of his life in loyalty to the State, and on enquiry it appeared that when Muḥammad Ḥusain Mīrzā with some of his riffraff was attacking the centre Saif K͟hān met him and fighting valiantly became a martyr. The Mīrzā himself was wounded by the hands of the brave men of the main body. The Kokaltās͟h mentioned is the elder brother of Zain K͟hān Koka.

A strange circumstance was this: on the day before the battle, when the king was eating, he asked Hazāra, who was learned in the science of looking at the shoulder-blades (a kind of divination), to see on whose side the victory would be. Hazāra said: “The victory will be on your side, but one of the chiefs of your army will become a martyr.” Whereupon Saif K͟hān Koka said “Would that this blessing might fall to my lot!”

“Many an omen that we have treated as jest91

Became true when the star passed by.”

In short, Mīrzā Muḥammad Ḥusain turned his reins, but his horse’s feet became entangled in the thorn-brake and he fell. An ahadi of the king, Gadā ʿAlī by name, found him, and having mounted him before him on his horse took him to the king. As two or three claimed a share in his capture, His Majesty asked who had made him prisoner. “The king’s salt,” he answered. The king ordered his hands, that had been fastened behind him, to be tied in front. Meanwhile he asked for water. Farḥat K͟hān, who was one of the confidential slaves, struck him on the head, but the king, disapproving of this, sent for his private drinking water and satisfied his thirst. Up to this time Mīrzā ʿAzīz Koka and the garrison of the fort had not come out. After the capture of the Mīrzā, His Majesty was proceeding slowly towards Ahmadabad. He had delivered the Mīrzā to Rāy Rāy Singh Rāṭhor, one of the Rajput chiefs, to be put on an elephant and brought with him. Meanwhile Ik͟htiyāru-l-mulk, who was one of the influential Gujarati leaders, made his appearance with an army of nearly 5,000 men. Complete confusion fell upon the royal troops. The king, as his natural valour and lofty disposition required, ordered the drums to be beaten, and Shajāʾat K͟hān, Rāja Bhagwān Dās, and some others charged on in front to fight this force. Fearing that the enemy might get possession of Mīrzā Muḥammad Ḥusain, Rāy Rāy Singh’s men, by the advice and plan of the aforesaid Raja (Bhagwān Dās), cut off his head. My father did not want to kill him. The forces of Ik͟htiyāru-l-mulk also were dispersed, and he was thrown from his horse into the thorn thicket. Suhrāb Beg Turkmān cut off his head and brought it in. It was only by the grace and power of God that such a victory was won by a small number of men.

In the same way are beyond all reckoning the conquest of the province of Bengal, the capture of well-known and celebrated forts in Hindustan such as Chitor and Ranṭambhor, the subjection of the province of Khandesh, and the taking of the fort of Āsīr and of other provinces which by the exertions of the royal armies came into the possession of the servants of the State. If these were related in detail it would be a long story.

In the fight at Chitor, the king with his own hand killed Jitmal, the leader of the men in the fort. He had no rival in shooting with a gun, and with the one with which he killed Jitmal, and which was called Sangrām, he killed some 3,000 or 4,000 birds and beasts.92 I may be reckoned a true pupil of his. Of all sports I am most disposed to that with the gun, and in one day have shot eighteen deer.

Of the austerities practised by my revered father, one was the not eating the flesh of animals. During three months of the year he ate meat, and for the remaining nine contented himself with Ṣūfī food, and was no way pleased with the slaughter of animals. On many days and in many months this was forbidden to the people. The days and months on which he did not eat flesh are detailed in the Akbarnāma.

On the day I made Iʿtimādu-l-mulk diwan, I put Muʿizzu-l-mulk in charge of the dīwānī-i-buyūtāt (care of buildings). The latter is a Sayyid of Bāk͟harz,93 and under my revered father was accountant of the kurkarāq department.94

On one of my accession days, a hundred of the Akbarī and Jahāngīrī servants were promoted to higher rank and jagirs. At the commencement of the Ramaẓān ʿĪd, as it was the first after my accession, I came down to the ʿĪdgāh from my auspicious throne. There was a great crowd, and having performed the dues of thanksgiving and praise I returned to the palace, where according to the verse “From the table of kings favours come to beggars,” I commanded a sum of money to be spent in alms and charity. Some lakhs of dāms of this were entrusted to Dūst Muḥammad (afterwards K͟hwāja Jahān), who divided them amongst faqirs and those who were in want, and a lakh of dāms each was given to Jamālu-d-dīn Ḥusain Anjū (the lexicographer), Mīrzā Ṣadr Jahān, and Mīr Muḥammad Riẓā Sabzawārī to dispose of in charity in different quarters of the city. I sent 5,000 rupees to the dervishes of S͟haik͟h Muḥammad Ḥusain Jāmī, and gave directions that each day one of the officers of the watch95 should give 50,000 dāms to faqirs. I sent a jewelled sword to the K͟hānk͟hānān, and promoted Jamālu-d-dīn Anjū to the rank of 3,000. The office of Ṣadr was entrusted to Mīrān Ṣadr Jahān, and I ordered Ḥājī Koka, who was one of my father’s foster-sisters,96 to bring before me in the palace such women as were worthy to be presented with land and money. I promoted Zāhid K͟hān, son of Muḥammad Ṣādiq K͟hān, from the rank of 1,500 to that of 2,000.

It had been the custom97 that when the gift of an elephant or horse was made to anyone, the naqibs and the Masters of the Horse (Mīr Āk͟hūrān) took from him a sum of money as jilawāna (bridle-money). I gave orders that this money should be paid by the government, so that people might be freed from the importunities and demands of that set of men.

At this time Sālbāhan arrived from Burhanpur and produced before me the horses and elephants of my deceased brother Dāniyāl. Of the elephants, one male named Mast Alast appeared to me the best, and I gave him the name of Nūr Gaj. A wonderful thing showed itself in this elephant; on the sides of his ears small lumps had grown about the size of melons, and from them came fluid such as drops from an elephant in the rutting season; moreover, the top of his forehead was more prominent than in other elephants. It was a splendid and imposing animal.98

I gave to my son K͟hurram (S͟hāh-Jahān) a rosary of jewels, with the hope that he might obtain fulfilment of all his desires, both in visible and in spiritual things.

As I had remitted in my dominions customs duties amounting to krors, I abolished also all the transit dues (sāʾir-jihāt) in Kabul, which is one of the noted towns on the road to Hindustan. These brought in 1 kror and 23 lakhs of dams. From the provinces of Kabul and Qandahar large sums used to be derived every year from customs (zakāʾt), which were in fact the chief revenue of those places. I remitted these ancient dues, a proceeding that greatly benefited the people of Iran and Turan.

Āṣaf K͟hān’s jagir in the subah of Bihār had been given to Bāz Bahādur; I therefore ordered that a jagir in the Panjab should be given to him. As it was represented to me that a large sum was in arrears in his jagir, and now that the order for exchange had been given its collection would be difficult, I directed that a lakh of rupees should be given to him from the Treasury and the arrears recovered from Bāz Bahādur for the royal revenues.

I promoted S͟harīf Āmulī to the rank of 2,500, original and increase. He is a pure-hearted, lively-spirited man. Though he has no tincture of current sciences, lofty words and exalted knowledge often manifest themselves in him. In the dress of a faqir he made many journeys, and he has friendship with many saints and recites the maxims of those who profess mysticism. This is his conversation, not his practice (qāli-ū ast na ḥālī). In the time of my revered father he relinquished the garments of poverty and asceticism, and attained to amirship and chiefship. His utterance is exceedingly powerful, and his conversation is remarkably eloquent and pure, although he is without Arabic. His compositions also are not devoid of verve.99

A garden in Agra had been left by S͟hāh Qulī K͟hān Maḥram, and as he had no heirs I handed it over to Ruqayya Sult̤ān Begam, the daughter of Hindāl Mīrzā, who had been the honoured wife of my father.100 My father had given my son K͟hurram into her charge, and she loved him a thousand times more than if he had been her own.