AKBAR

AKBAR might be called a child of the desert, having been born at Amarkot, on the edge of it, on the 14th of October, 1542, after his parents, with a few followers, had traversed it as homeless wanderers, under almost unparalleled privations. Before he was a year old he became a captive in the hands of an uncle with whom his father was at war; and, while still a mere child, was barbarously placed in the most exposed position on the ramparts of Kabul, which was besieged, in the malicious expectation that some ball from the cannon of the besiegers would deprive him of life. His captivity was afterwards repeatedly renewed; but, as if he had been reserved for something great, he passed unharmed in the midst of danger, and made many hair-breadth escapes. If anything had been wanting to confirm the belief that a high destiny awaited him, it would have been found in the remarkable talents which he began, at an early age, to display. Such were the expectations which he had excited, and the confidence reposed in him, that he was sent into the Punjab in the command of an army, and gained distinction on the field of battle. At this time he must have been a mere boy, for when his father died he was only in his fourteenth year. When the melancholy tidings reached him he was absent on this command. The necessary steps were immediately taken, and he was forthwith proclaimed as lawful possessor of the throne. There was no rival in his own family to dispute it with him; but in Bairam Khan, a Turkman who had stood high in his father’s confidence, and also been his own tutor, he found a minister who seemed determined to leave him little more than a nominal sovereignty. Bairam’s talents were of the highest order; and he probably retained the power not for any treasonable purpose, but merely because he had persuaded himself that the interest of his youthful sovereign would thereby be most effectually promoted.

Akbar was not the kind of person to be long kept in leading-strings, though he had prudence enough not to take any decisive step for the purpose of escaping from thraldom till he was sure that he would be able to give effect to it. At first, therefore, he left Bairam undisturbed, and readily consented to all the measures which he recommended. It is probable that in this way he was a considerable gainer; for Bairam’s experience was great, and must have done much to extricate Akbar from the difficulties which encompassed him at the very outset of his reign. In the Punjab, Sikandar Sur still kept his ground, and declared his determination to be satisfied with nothing short of the throne of Delhi; in Kabul, Mirza Suleman of Budukshan had made a sudden irruption, and made himself absolute master; and from an opposite direction, Hemu, the talented Hindu minister of the usurper Adili, was advancing towards Agra at the head of a powerful army. Against the last, as the most pressing danger, Bairam and his young sovereign immediately took the field. It was almost too late; for the Mughul generals had sustained a severe defeat, and Hemu had, in consequence, not only captured Agra, but forced his entrance into Delhi.

The contest now about to be waged wore a very ominous aspect for Akbar. His army at the utmost mustered only 20,000 horse, while that of the enemy exceeded 100,000. No wonder that many of the officers urged an instant retreat in the direction of Kabul. The minister and his sovereign stood alone when they resolved to risk the encounter. Some addition was made to Akbar’s force by the arrival of soldiers who had belonged to the defeated detachments, but when the armies met his was still far inferior in numbers. The decisive battle was fought near Panipat, on the 5th of November, 1556. Hemu began the action with his elephants, and pushed forward with them into Akbar’s very centre; but these powerful and unwieldy animals acted as they almost invariably did when their first charge failed to produce a general panic. Furiously attacked on all sides by the Mughuls, who galled them with lances, arrows, and javelins, they became unruly, and carried confusion into their own ranks. The day was thus quickly decided in Akbar’s favour; but Hemu, mounted on an elephant of prodigious size, still bravely continued the action, at the head of 4,000 horse. An arrow pierced his eye and he sunk senseless into his howdah. A few moments after, having come to himself, he plucked out the arrow, which is said to have brought the eye out along with it; and in the midst of this agony had the energy and presence of mind to attempt his escape by breaking through the enemy’s line. He deserved to succeed, but unhappily failed, and was taken prisoner. On being brought back, Bairam Khan urged Akbar to gain the envied title of Ghazi, or Champion of the Faith, by killing him with his own hand. He had too much spirit to do the executioner’s office. It would have been pleasing to add that he went a step farther, and magnanimously interposed his sovereign authority to save the Hindu’s life. Unfortunately, he left him to the will of Bairam Khan, who cut off his head at a stroke.

Immediately after the victory Akbar marched upon Delhi, and entered it without opposition. He had not remained long when his presence was imperatively required in the Punjab. Sikandar Shal, after defeating one of his generals, and obliging him to take refuge in Lahore, had advanced to Kalanore. On Akbar’s approach he retired to Mankote, and shut himself up in it. The siege was immediately commenced, and had lasted six months, when Sikandar Shal, who had been severely wounded, offered to capitulate. The terms bound him to evacuate the fort, and give his son as an hostage for his future behaviour. Akbar was happy to be thus rid of his most formidable opponent in India.

Bairam Khan, instead of gradually retiring from power as his sovereign became more capable of exercising it, began to presume more than ever on his services; and, as if Akbar’s consent had not been worth the asking, proceeded of his own accord to pass sentence of death and banishment on individuals whom he regarded as his private enemies. One of the persons whom he banished was Mulla Pir Muhammad, the king’s own preceptor; and, as if to make the act more galling, he at once filled up the office which he had thus rendered vacant by appointing another preceptor in his stead. Akbar was greatly incensed, and immediately prepared to adopt a measure which it is probable he had long meditated.

Having gone on a hunting party in the beginning of 1560, he received, or pretended to have received, a message from Delhi that his mother was extremely ill, and wished to see him. Immediately on arriving he issued a proclamation, announcing that he had taken the government into his own hands, and that in future no orders but those issued by his authority were to be obeyed. Bairam at once saw what was intended, and endeavoured to avert his downfall, by sending two of his principal friends to make his submission in the humblest terms. Akbar refused to see them, and shortly after imprisoned them. The disgraced minister soon found how little he could trust to those who had profited most by his prosperity, and saw himself rapidly deserted. Various schemes passed through his mind. At one time he thought of proceeding to Malwa and setting up an independent sovereignty; at another, of making this experiment in Bengal, where it might be easy to expel the Afghans. The prospect, in either case, did not seem very hopeful; and at last, as if he had abandoned all treasonable designs, he set out for Gujarat with the avowed intention of taking shipping and making a pilgrimage to Mecca. Having halted at Nagore, in the hope that the king’s resentment might be withdrawn, he was deeply mortified on receiving a message which dismissed him from office, and ordered him to continue his pilgrimage without delay. The message is said to have been in the following terms:—“Till now our mind has been taken up with our education and the amusements of youth, and it was our royal will that you should regulate the affairs of our empire. But it being our intention henceforward to govern our people by our own judgment, let our wellwisher withdraw from all worldly concerns; and, retiring to Mecca, far removed from the toils of public life, spend the rest of his days in prayer.”

It seems that Bairam Khan had been travelling with all the insignia of office; for, on receiving this message, he returned his state elephants, banners, and drums, and set out, shorn of his public honours, for Gujarat. Suddenly a new thought seemed to have struck him, for, on arriving at Bikaner, he stopped short and retraced his steps to Nagore. Here he began to collect troops, and gave such decided evidence of treasonable intentions, that Akbar sent a body of troops against him. As they approached he retired into the Punjab, and openly raised the standard of revolt. He even fought one battle, but lost it, and retired into the mountains of Sewalik. Here the hopelessness of his cause, and perhaps also remorse for having engaged in it, combined in determining him to throw himself on Akbar’s mercy. He was at once forgiven; and some of the leading officers of the court were sent to receive him, and conduct him into the presence with every mark of distinction. On entering the court he hung his turban round his neck; and, advancing rapidly, threw himself in tears at the foot of the throne. Akbar, giving him his hand, caused him to rise, and placed him in his former station at the head of the nobles. A splendid dress was then given him; and the king, addressing him, offered him the choice of a place at court, a provincial government, or liberty to continue his pilgrimage with an escort suitable to his rank. Bairam preferred the last, and set out for Mecca with a large retinue and an annual pension of about £5,000. After reaching Gujarat, he halted in the suburbs of Patan, and turned aside to visit a celebrated spot, called Sahasnak, from the thousand temples in its vicinity. Having hired a boat and a band of musicians, he spent all night on the lake in company with his friends. As he was returning in the morning he was accosted by an Afghan, who, pretending to embrace him, drew a dagger and pierced him to the heart. It was an act of revenge for the death of his father, who had fallen in battle by Bairam’s sword.

Akbar soon showed that, in taking the government into his own hand, he had not presumed too much on his own talents. While success almost invariably attended his arms, his internal measures exhibited a model of liberal and enlightened administration. When he succeeded he possessed little more than the territory around Delhi and Agra, together with an imperfect and precarious hold of the Punjab. During Bairam’s regency Ajmer was added to his dominions without a contest, the strong fort of Gwalior was captured, and the Afghans were driven as far east as Jaunpur, after being dispossessed of Lucknow and a large tract of country on the Ganges. In 1560, shortly after the dismissal of Bairam Khan, Akbar, from a desire perhaps to signalize his full assumption of the reins of government, resolved to attempt the conquest of Malwa, and with that view despatched an army under the command of Adam Khan Atka. The principality was then in the possession of Baz Bahadur, who kept his court at Sarangpur, where he had become so much the slave of indolence and pleasure, that the Mughuls were within twenty miles of his capital before he could be roused to action. Even then his resistance was feeble; and his troops having been routed at the first onset, he fled for Burhanpur, leaving his property and family behind. These immediately fell into the hands of Adam Khan. He at once disposed of them as if he had been absolute master, sending only a few elephants to Akbar, who was so much dissatisfied that he set out without delay to call him to account. Adam Khan, if he really entertained treasonable designs, found them completely frustrated by Akbar’s expedition, and hastened to make his peace. He had previously, by the indulgence of unbridled passion, been the cause of an affecting catastrophe.

One of the inmates of the harem was a Hindu of surpassing beauty, highly accomplished, and celebrated as a poetess. After endeavouring in vain to resist the importunities and violence of Adam Khan, she pretended to yield, and fixed the hour of meeting. When he arrived it was only to behold her corpse. Immediately after the appointment she had retired to her chamber, put on her most splendid dress, sprinkled the richest perfumes, and taken poison. Her attendants, seeing her lie down on her couch and cover her face with her mantle, thought she had fallen asleep, and did not become aware of the real fact till, on the Khan’s approach, they attempted to waken her.

Akbar returned to Agra, and shortly after made Muhammad Khan Atka, governor of the Punjab, his prime minister, and conferred the government of Malwa on his old preceptor, Pir Muhammad Khan, whom Bairam Khan had, in a fit of jealousy, driven into exile. In 1561, while on a visit to a celebrated shrine in Ajmer, Akbar married the daughter of Puranmal, Raja of Jaipur, and enrolled both the raja and his son among the nobles of his court. This is said to be the first instance in which a Hindu chief was ennobled or placed in any position of high trust under the government of the Great Mughul. Akbar, before quitting Ajmer, despatched Mirza Shurf-ud-din Hussain to invest the fort of Merta, belonging to Maldo, Raja of Marwar; and then set out for Agra with such expedition that, by taking only six attendants, and travelling without interruption, he performed the distance of above 200 miles in three days.

The siege of Merta proved more difficult than had been anticipated. Two of the principal Rajput chiefs of Marwar had thrown themselves into it, and conducted the defence with so much skill and valour that the Mirza’s operations, though carried on with great vigour, were completely baffled. After carrying mines under one of the bastions, and making a practicable breach, he advanced to the assault, but was repulsed. In the morning, when he was preparing to renew the assault, he found that in the course of the night the breach had been built up. Some months had thus passed away when want of provisions compelled the garrison to capitulate. Favourable terms were given; but one of the rajas disdaining to accept of them, collected 500 of his followers, and, after burning whatever they could not take with them, rushed out and cut their way through the enemy. About half the number succeeded; the rest perished.

The war with Baz Bahadur, in Malwa, still continued, though he was at last so closely pressed that he was obliged to seek a refuge at Burhanpur, within the limits of Khandesh. Still, however, he had no thoughts of peace, and not only kept the country in a constant state of ferment and alarm by frequent incursions, but by means of an alliance with the rulers of Khandesh and Berar, was enabled to take the field with so powerful an army that the Mughuls were obliged to retreat before it. Pir Muhammad Khan fell back on Bizigur; when, contrary to the advice of his officers, he resolved to risk an engagement. He was defeated, and lost his life in attempting to cross the Narmada; while Baz Bahadur continued the pursuit as far as Agra, and once more became master of all Malwa in 1561. His triumph was short-lived, for the governor of Kalpi, being appointed to the command, expelled him a second time, and obliged him to flee to the mountains.

One of the greatest difficulties with which Akbar had to contend, arose from rivalry and strife among his leading officers. Muhammad Khan Atka, who had been appointed minister at Delhi with the title of Shahab-ud-din, was high in favour at court. For this he was hated by Adam Khan Khoka, who endeavoured to undermine him; and for this purpose had recourse to intrigues, which only issued in his own disgrace. He determined on revenge; and one day, while the minister was sitting in the hall of audience reading the Qoran, entered and saluted him. The minister continued, as was usual in such circumstances, to read on without taking any notice of his entrance, and Adam Khan, whether from momentary impulse or premeditation, drew his dagger and stabbed him to the heart. Akbar was sleeping in one of the inner apartments, and, hearing the noise and ascertaining the cause, rushed out in his sleeping dress. There lay the minister weltering in his blood, while the murderer stood, as if stupefied by his own atrocity, on an adjoining terrace. Akbar’s first impulse was to draw his sword and put him to death, but, recollecting himself, he returned the sword to its scabbard. Adam Khan took advantage of the interval to clasp the king’s hand and beg for mercy; but he shook him off in disgust, and ordered his attendants to do summary justice by flinging him over the parapet.

About this time Akbar himself narrowly escaped assassination. A famous chief of Turkistan, called Mirza Shurfud-din Hussain, arriving from Lahore at Agra, was received at court with great distinction; but shortly after, being suspected of treasonable designs fled to Ajmer and went into rebellion. On the advance of the royal army he retreated to the frontiers of Gujarat. One of his retainers, who happened to be in the neighbourhood of Delhi when the royal retinue was passing along the road, joined it; and, looking upwards, fixed an arrow in his bow and pointed it towards the sky, as if he were going to shoot at some object in the air. The attendants, thinking he was aiming at a bird, did not interfere, and he had time to lower the bow and lodge the arrow deep in the flesh of Akbar’s shoulder. The assassin was immediately cut to pieces, and the arrow was with some difficulty extracted. The wound, though deep, did not prove serious, and healed over in about ten days.

Shortly after Akbar set out from Agra on a hunting excursion. This was his ostensible object, but his real design was to nip in the bud an insurrection which was meditated, by Abdullah Khan Uzbek, the governor of Malwa. He accordingly turned suddenly aside, and, in spite of the rainy season, made an incursion into that province. He had only reached Ujjain when Abdullah Khan, taking guilt to himself, marched off with his forces and treasure for Gujarat. Akbar chivalrously pursued with a small body of horse, but met with so much opposition that he was obliged to fall back on Mandu. The annoyance caused by this Uzbek was said to have given Akbar a rooted dislike to the whole race; and it was generally rumoured that he meant to seize and imprison all the Uzbek chiefs. The consequence was a general Uzbek revolt. In a short time the insurgents mustered 40,000 horse, with which they ravaged the territories of Berar and Jaunpur. One of the leaders of the revolt was Asaf Khan Heroi, governor of Kara. Shortly after his appointment he obtained permission to subdue a country called Garah, which was at the time governed by Durgavati, a rani or Hindu queen, as celebrated for beauty as for ability. The aggression appears to have been unprincipled, for the only reason assigned for it is that Asaf Khan had heard of the riches of Garah. After several predatory excursions he invaded it with a force of about 6,000 horse and infantry. The queen opposed him with an army of 8,000 horse and foot, and 1,500 elephants. The battle was sanguinary and well contested, till the queen, who was mounted on an elephant, was struck by an arrow in the eye and disabled from giving orders. Determined not to fall into the hands of the enemy, she plucked a dagger from the girdle of her elephant driver and stabbed herself. Her capital was immediately taken by storm, and her infant son trampled to death. Asaf Khan obtained an immense booty in gold and jewels, but sent only a small part to the royal treasury, and was thus able, on joining the revolt, to add largely to its pecuniary resources.

Akbar, finding that little progress was made by his officers in suppressing the revolt, determined to take the field in person. A fever, with which he was seized, obliged him to return to Agra, where he remained till April, 1566, and then resumed the campaign. Taking a select body of horse, he proceeded by a forced march toward Lucknow, in the hope of surprising Sikandar Khan; but that rebel chief, having received warning, evacuated the place and joined his confederates. Several of these, worked upon by emissaries from Akbar, who always displayed great dexterity in breaking up any confederacy formed against him, abandoned the cause as hopeless, and made their submission; but a formidable opposition was still offered by Bahadur Khan Sistani, who, after crossing the Jamuna and raising disturbances in the Doab, encountered the royalist general, Mir Moiz-ul-Mulk, in the open field. The royalists were at first successful; and, in the full confidence of victory, commenced the pursuit without observing any order. Bahadur Khan immediately seized the advantage, and changed his defeat into a victory, so complete that Akbar’s first tidings of the result were received from Mir Moiz himself, who never halted in his flight till he joined him at Kanauj, with the wreck of his army.

The loss was greatly aggravated by its indirect effects—some of the confederates, who had made their submission, conceiving new hopes, and again joining the revolt. Among these was Khan Zaman, who immediately occupied Ghazipur and the adjoining country. Akbar set out against him with all expedition, but Bahadur Khan, taking advantage of his absence, advanced to Jaunpur and captured it by escalade. This disaster seeming the more serious of the two, Akbar retraced his steps, and, by the junction of forces from the loyal provinces, was soon at the head of an army strong enough to crush the rebellion. Bahadur Khan accordingly evacuated Jaunpur and fled toward Benaras, from which he sent an offer of submission. The offer was accepted; for all Akbar’s leanings were to the generous side, but on this occasion his leniency was carried to an extreme. When the king, after having given his royal word of pardon, ordered him and his brother Khan Zaman to appear at court, the latter answered “that shame for his past offences alone prevented him from appearing in the presence, till time should have convinced his majesty of his loyalty; but that when the king should return to Agra, both he and his brother Bahadur Khan would, at a future time, pay their respects.” There was no sincerity in these words, for the brothers were only endeavouring to gain time, and took the first opportunity of revolting and seizing upon Garah.

The next quarter to which Akbar’s attention was specially called was Kabul. It was in the hands of his half-brother, Muhammad Hakim Mirza, who was threatened by Suleman Mirza, chief of Bukushan, and sent a message to Akbar, earnestly soliciting his aid. A strong reinforcement was accordingly sent; but before it arrived the struggle was over. Suleman Mirza had made good his threat by attacking Kabul, and Muhammad Hakim Mirza had been compelled to evacuate it. In his retreat he took the direction of the Indus, and was ungrateful enough to endeavour to compensate himself for the loss of Kabul by seizing upon Lahore. This he was more readily tempted to do, because he believed that Akbar’s hands were fully occupied in the eastern provinces by the Uzbeks. The attempt upon Lahore was made; and, though it failed, appearances were so alarming that Akbar postponed a projected expedition against the Uzbeks in the Doab, and in November, 1566, directed his march into the Punjab. In the dead of the night, Muhammad Hakim Mirza was awakened by the noise of drums and trumpets; and, calling to ask what it meant, was told that the citizens of Lahore were manifesting their joy at the intelligence they had received of Akbar’s approach. Without waiting to learn more, he mounted his steed in the utmost alarm, and, taking his cavalry along with him, was off on the instant for Kabul. Fortune was far more favourable to him than he deserved; for on arriving he found that his enemy, Suleman Mirza, had retired to Bukushan for the winter, leaving Kabul very imperfectly defended. The consequence was, that he recovered it as quickly as he had lost it.

The absence of Akbar in the Punjab was no sooner known to the Uzbeks than they put themselves in motion, took Kanauj and Oudh, and extended their conquests in all directions. He therefore hastened back to Agra, and having collected his troops, set out for Jaunpur. Khan Zaman Khan, when this startling intelligence reached him, was engaged in laying siege to the fort of Shirgur. He immediately raised it, and, with his brother Bahadur Khan Sistani, who was besieging Kara, crossed the Ganges in full retreat to Malwa, intending either to join some insurgents who had appeared in that province, or to form an alliance with the kings of the Deccan. Akbar, fully alive to the magnitude of the danger which thus threatened, determined, if possible, to overtake him. Such was his haste that, on arriving at the ferry of Manipur, and finding no boats in readiness, he mounted his elephant and plunged into the stream. One hundred of his body-guard imitated his example; and though the water was then high, they all reached the opposite bank in safety. At the head of this small party Akbar proceeded, and had actually come in sight of the enemy’s camp before he was reinforced by the garrison from Kara.

The enemy, never imagining that Akbar would venture to cross without his army, felt perfectly secure, and had accordingly passed the night in festivity. They were first brought to their senses by the ominous sound of the royal nakara, or kettle-drum. Though completely surprised, they were so superior in numbers that the contest was for some time doubtful, and Akbar was in great personal danger; but his elephants, advancing rapidly into the midst of the confused mass, left the enemy no time to rally. Khan Zaman, while endeavouring to extract an arrow which had wounded him, fell with his horse, and was trampled to death by an elephant. His brother, Bahadur Khan, was taken prisoner; and on being brought before the king, who asked him what injury he had sustained to justify him in again drawing the sword, simply replied, “Praise be to God that he has rescued me once more to see your majesty’s countenance.” This impudent hypocrisy had saved him on a former occasion, but it now proved unavailing; for some of the officers, afraid perhaps of a renewal of the king’s ill-judged leniency, put him to death without orders. The revolt of the Uzbeks being now considered at an end, Akbar returned to Agra in July, 1567.

Akbar next marched against Rana Udai Singh, who had hitherto refused to acknowledge the Mughul supremacy. He immediately directed his steps against Chitor, in Rajputana. The Rana quitted it before his arrival, and retired into the mountains, but left it amply provisioned and strongly garrisoned by 8,000 Rajputs. It was immediately invested by Akbar, whose approaches are said to have been made in the most scientific manner, in the mode recommended by Vauban, and practised by the best engineers of modern times. After arriving near the walls by means of zigzag trenches and stuffed gabions, two mines were carried under bastions, filled with gunpowder, and fired. The storming party advanced, and, finding a practicable breach, divided, with the view of entering both breaches at once. From some cause only one of the mines had exploded, and the second division was close upon the other when the second explosion took place, and 500 of the Mughuls were blown into the air. The consequence was, that both attacks failed.

Akbar’s spirit generally rose with the difficulties he encountered, and he immediately began to run new mines and carry on other works. One evening while they were in progress, he perceived Jagmul, the governor, superintending the repair of the breaches by torch-light. Seizing a matchlock from one of his attendants, he fired with so sure an aim as to lodge the ball in Jagmul’s forehead. The garrison were at once seized with despair, and erecting a funeral pile for the dead body of their chief, burned their wives and children along with it. Akbar, aware of what was going on, ordered his men forward to the breaches under the cover of night. Not a soul appeared, and they entered the fort without opposition. The Rajputs had retired to their temples, and there, disdaining to accept of quarter, perished to a man.

Akbar’s children had hitherto died; but in 1569, shortly after he had made a pilgrimage to a celebrated shrine at Ajmer, and paid a visit to Sheikh Salim Chishti, in the village of Sikari, his favourite sultana gave birth to his son Salim. In the following year another son, whom he called Murad, was born to him. As both births had taken place in the village of Sikari, he regarded it as a particularly propitious spot, and selected it as the site of a city, which at a later period received the name of Fatehpur.

Gujarat had long been torn by intestine factions, and also become a common asylum for all the chiefs who had risen in rebellion against Akbar’s government. Having therefore resolved to march against it in person, he set out in September, 1572. Patan and Ahmedabad fell into his hands without a blow. At Baroach and Surat matters wore a more threatening appearance, Ibrahim Hussain Mirza being near the one, and his brother Muhammad Hussain Mirza near the other, each at the head of an independent army. On Akbar’s approach towards Baroach, Ibrahim suddenly quitted the place, and set out by a circuitous route to reach the Punjab, where he hoped to raise an insurrection. Akbar, informed of his intention, immediately adopted one of those chivalric resolutions which, notwithstanding the success which usually attended them, cannot be justified against the charge of rashness. It was nine o’clock at night when he heard of Ibrahim’s departure. Immediately, taking only a small body of horse, he hastened off to intercept his retreat. On reaching the Mhendri, which runs by the town of Surtal, he found his party reduced to forty troopers, and saw Ibrahim on the opposite bank with 1,000. At this moment Akbar was joined by seventy additional troopers. He expected more, but refused to wait for them; and crossing the river, he advanced to the charge. Many acts of individual heroism were performed, particularly by some Hindu rajas, who, proud of the confidence which Akbar had placed in them, were eager to justify it; but none behaved more chivalrously than the king himself, who repeatedly engaged the bravest of his enemies single-handed, and charged right against Ibrahim, who, shunning the encounter, only saved himself by the fleetness of his horse.

Satisfied with this achievement, Akbar, instead of attempting to pursue the fleeing enemy, waited till his army arrived, and then proceeded to lay siege to Surat. A valiant resistance was at first threatened; but as soon as the batteries were ready to open, the inhabitants surrendered. Meanwhile Ibrahim Hussain Mirza carried out his scheme of attempting an insurrection in the Punjab. On learning his arrival, Hussain Kuli Khan, Akbar’s general, who was besieging Nagarkot, immediately raised the siege and pursued him through the Punjab to Tatta on the Indus. He probably thought that he had made his escape, or believed Kuli Khan to be more distant than he was, for instead of continuing his flight, he set out on a hunting excursion. On his return he found his camp stormed, and his brother Masud Hussain a prisoner. He resolved to retrieve the day or perish, and made many desperate onsets; but being repulsed at every point, desisted, and fled to Multan. Here, after being severely wounded and taken prisoner by a Baluchi, he was delivered up to the governor of Multan, who shortly after beheaded him. His head was sent to Agra, and by Akbar’s order placed above one of its gates.

In July, 1573, the affairs of Gujarat were again thrown into disorder by the union of one of its former chiefs with Muhammad Hussain Mirza. These confederates, after overrunning several districts, felt strong enough to attempt the siege of Ahmedabad. The presence of Akbar seemed absolutely necessary, but a formidable obstacle was in the way. The rainy season had commenced, and the march of a large army was impracticable. In these circumstances, he made one of those decisive movements for which he had become famous. Sending off a body of 2,000 chosen horse, he followed rapidly with a retinue of 300 persons, chiefly nobles, mounted on camels and accompanied by led horses. Having come up with the main body at Patan, he found that his whole force mustered 3,000. Without halting he set forward for Ahmedabad, while a swift messenger hastened before to make the garrison aware of his approach. The enemy first learned it by the sound of his drum; and though astonished above measure, prepared for action. Leaving 5,000 horse to watch the gates and prevent a sally, Muhammad set out with 7,000 horse. Akbar at first waited in the expectation that the garrison would join him, but on learning that this was not to be expected, he crossed the river and drew up on the plain. The battle was fiercely contested, and was not decided till the king, with his body-guard of 100 men, made an attack in flank on Muhammad, who, losing all presence of mind, turned his back and fled. The rout now became general. Muhammad, wounded in the face and mounted on a horse which had also been wounded, attempted to leap a hedge, but both fell, and he was made prisoner. Several persons laying claim to the honour of the capture, Akbar put the question to himself—“Who took you?” Muhammad, holding down his head, replied, “Nobody. The curse of ingratitude overtook me.” He spoke truth, and paid the penalty; for before Akbar had given any orders respecting him, Raja Rai Singh, in whose charge he had been left, put him to death. The siege of Ahmedabad was immediately raised, and Akbar entered it in triumph.

In the course of this year Daud Khan, son of Suleman Kirani, ruler of Bengal, took up arms. Munim Khan, sent by Akbar against him, defeated him in several actions, and compelled him to sign a treaty. Akbar, disliking the terms, refused to ratify it, and insisted that Daud Khan should either be expelled or obliged to pay tribute. He promised the latter, but it was merely to gain time; and as soon as he thought himself strong enough, he resumed hostilities. Munim Khan again defeated him, took his fleet of boats, and, after crossing the Ganges, laid siege to Patna. Akbar, thinking his presence required, left Agra in the middle of the rains, and set out with as many troops as could be embarked in 1,000 boats. On arriving within a few miles of Patna he had the satisfaction to learn that, in consequence of Munim’s success, it was on the point of being evacuated. Hajipur, on the opposite side of the Ganges, also yielded without resistance. Daud Khan, thus defeated at all points, wished to make terms; but Akbar insisted on his unconditional submission, at the same time observing to his messenger, “Tell Daud Khan I have a thousand men in my army as good as he, and if he is disposed to put the point to issue in single combat, I will myself meet him.” Daud Khan had no idea of this manner of settling the contest, and made a precipitate retreat to Bengal. In the pursuit 400 of his elephants were taken. Akbar now returned to Agra; and Munim Khan, continuing to prosecute the subjugation of Bengal, obliged Daud Khan to take refuge in Orissa. Ultimately he was overtaken on the shores of the Bay of Bengal, and obliged to submit. The terms were that he should relinquish all pretensions to Bengal and Bihar, but retain Orissa and Cuttack. Munim Khan was appointed governor of Bengal, and removed the seat of government from Khowaspur Tanda to Gaur, which had been the capital till it was abandoned on account of its insalubrity. He had better have left matters as he found them, for he soon fell a victim to the climate, and was succeeded by Hussain Kuli Khan, a Turkman, who bore the title of Khan Jehan.

Before Hussain Kuli Khan had taken actual possession of his government, Daud Khan, having leagued with several Afghan chiefs, appeared at the head of 50,000 horse, and retook the greater part of Bengal. His possession, however, was only momentary; for, in a battle fought shortly after, he was defeated, taken prisoner, and put to death. The insurrection was still headed by some Afghan chiefs, and several sanguinary battles were fought; but ultimately the Mughuls proved everywhere triumphant. The fort of Rhotas, in Bihar, which had long held out, was obliged to surrender; and Bengal and Bihar were formally incorporated with the empire of the Great Mughul, though they both continued to be, from time to time, the seats of formidable insurrections. These had hitherto for the most part originated with Afghans, who had fled thither when the Afghan dynasty was driven from the throne of Delhi; but when their hostility had ceased to be formidable, the Mughul chiefs themselves began to give considerable trouble, first quarrelling with Akbar’s financial arrangements, and then making open war by appearing in the field in 1579, with an army of 30,000 men. After an intestine war, which the Afghans again endeavoured to turn to account, tranquillity was restored.

While Akbar’s officers were thus occupied in Bengal, he was himself obliged to march to the north-western provinces, in consequence of a new attempt by his half-brother, Muhammad Hakim Mirza, to make himself master of part of the Punjab. Muhammad had advanced as far as Lahore and laid siege to it, when the arrival of Akbar at Sirhind disconcerted all his schemes, and he hastened back to Kabul. He had so often before escaped in the same way, that Akbar determined not to let him off so easily; and after crossing the Indus, continued his march upon Kabul itself, which he entered in triumph in 1579. Muhammad was now at his mercy; but, on making his submission, received more favourable terms than he deserved, and was left in possession of his capital, while the royal army set out on its return. On this occasion Akbar built the fort of Attock; a short time after he built the fort of Allahabad, at the junction of the Jamuna and Ganges.

After Muzaffar Shah, the former ruler of Gujarat, had been forced to abdicate, he was taken to Agra, and so far ingratiated himself with Akbar that he was presented with an extensive domain, and allowed to reside upon it. He seemed satisfied; but in 1581, when new troubles arose in Gujarat, he was worked upon by some of the insurgents, and suddenly quitted Hindustan for the purpose of attempting to recover his lost throne. Thus headed, the insurrection soon became formidable, and the royal generals were obliged to retreat northwards to Patan, leaving Muzaffar in possession of Ahmedabad, Baroach, and nearly the whole of the province. An army, sent under Mirza Khan, son of the late Bairam Khan, recovered a large portion of what had been lost; but Muzaffar, retiring into the more inaccessible parts of the peninsula, maintained himself in a kind of independence for several years.

In 1585, Muhammad Hakim Mirza having died, Akbar immediately set out to take possession of Kabul. In this he found no difficulty; but he immediately after undertook another task, which brought him into collision with tribes of a more warlike character than he had previously encountered, and called for his utmost skill and prowess. Kashmir, with its beautiful valley, tempted his ambition, and he resolved to make a conquest of it. The circumstances were favourable; for dissensions had broken out in the reigning family, and the whole kingdom was torn asunder by contending factions. But the facilities for conquest thus afforded were greatly counteracted by the physical features of the country. It lies embosomed among lofty mountain chains, and is accessible only through perilous passes. At first Akbar, then at Attock, was contented to send forward a detachment of his army. It succeeded in penetrating through a pass which had not been guarded; but a threatened want of provisions, and the sudden setting in of winter with a heavy fall of snow, so intimidated the officers in command that they hastily concluded a treaty by which Kashmir nominally acknowledged the Mughul supremacy, but was left, in every other respect, in full possession of its former independence.

This treaty was utterly at variance with Akbar’s views; and he therefore not only refused to ratify it, but, in the following year (1587), sent a second invading army, the commander of which, by dexterously availing himself of the intestine dissensions, was admitted within the passes without a struggle, and afterwards made an easy conquest. The king, having been captured, was enrolled among the nobles of Delhi, and sent to live on a domain assigned him in Bihar. Kashmir, robbed of its independence, which it had maintained for nearly 1,000 years, became merely a Mughul province.

The struggles in this quarter were not yet over; for Akbar’s ambition extended to the subjugation, not merely of Kashmir, but of the Afghan mountain districts which encircle the plain of Peshawar. The most powerful of the Afghan tribes in this direction were the Yusufzyes or Eusofzeis, who possessed the northern part of the Peshawar plain, and the mountain terraces which rise above it and stretch back to the snowy ridges of the Hindu Kush. The Mughul army employed in the expedition against this Afghan tribe was commanded by Zein Khan Koka, who allowed himself to be completely defeated, and had great difficulty in reaching the royal camp at Attock. Raja Birbal, a special favourite of Akbar, perished on this occasion; and the monarch had thus to endure, not merely the mortification of defeat, but the deep grief, which he could not but feel, at the loss of one of his most valued friends. The Yusufzyes, having failed to improve their victory, were ultimately obliged to make some sort of submission, which appears to have been more formal than real. The Roshnyes or Rushenias, another of the mountain tribes, headed by a leader of the name of Jelala, made a still more valiant defence, but were also at last obliged to submit. While this Afghan contest was being waged, Akbar was extending and consolidating his empire in other directions. Taking advantage of dissensions in Sind, he in 1591 sent Mirza Khan with an invading army from Lahore, to enter it from the north, and lay siege to the fort of Sehwan. Mirza Jani Beg, then ruling in Sind, advanced with a numerous army and a train of artillery. After arriving within twelve miles of the Mughul camp, he sent forward 100 boats filled with artillery-men and archers, to make an attack. Mirza Khan had only twenty-five boats at command; but, taking advantage of the night, came upon the enemy by surprise, and compelled him to a precipitate flight. Mirza Jani Beg became, in future, more cautious; and having brought down his whole fleet, landed on a swampy ground, which, at high water, became inaccessible. Here he successfully resisted all attempts to dislodge him; and at the same time, while he kept his own communications open, so interrupted those of the Mughuls, that they were unable to obtain the necessary supplies. In these circumstances, Mirza Khan had no alternative but to divide his army, taking part of it to Tatta, while the remainder continued the siege. Mirza Jani Beg, thus tempted to assume the offensive, lost the advantages of his position, and was finally caught in a trap, which compelled him to accept of any terms of peace that the Mughuls chose to dictate. His kingdom became a Mughul province, and he himself exchanged his position as a king for that of an officer in the Mughul service. In this war he is said to have employed some Portuguese soldiers, and to have had 200 natives dressed as Europeans. These may be regarded as the first Sepoys in India.

It has been mentioned how Humayun, Akbar’s father, after obtaining military aid from the Shah of Persia, on condition of making the conquest of Kandahar, and ceding it to that monarch, refused to fulfil his agreement, and kept the conquest to himself. Internal troubles prevented the Shah from resenting the injustice at the time; but the circumstances afterwards became favourable, and Kandahar passed to Persia shortly after Akbar’s accession. It remained in this position till 1594, when Akbar, turning the Persian dissensions to account, was able to make himself master both of the town and territory without being obliged to strike a blow, the Persian prince who held the fort being contented to exchange his possession for the government of Multan and a command in the Mughul army.

In the whole of India north of the Narmada, Mughul supremacy was now completely established. It was otherwise in the Deccan; and to it, therefore, Akbar’s attention was now earnestly turned. In 1586 he had availed himself of an opportunity to interfere in the internal concerns of Ahmednagar; and had endeavoured, though without success, to aid a claimant in obtaining the throne. In 1590 he had recourse to a much more formal proceeding, and sent ambassadors to four different courts—Asir and Burhanpur, Ahmednagar, Bijapur, and Bhagnagar, the modern Hyderabad—demanding an acknowledgment of his supremacy. When a common refusal was given, he only received the answer which he had anticipated, and for which he was prepared. For the avowed purpose of reducing them to subjection, Mirza Khan was immediately sent south with an army. He proceeded first to Mandu. Meanwhile a messenger had arrived from Burhan, King of Ahmednagar, who had lived for some time in exile at Akbar’s court, announcing his entire submission. His death having taken place shortly after, in 1594, and his son and successor having fallen in battle, a disputed succession took place, and the minister, who favoured the claim of a boy of the name of Ahmed, applied for assistance to Akbar’s son, Prince Murad Mirza, then in Gujarat. The prince, by his father’s orders, immediately put his army in motion and marched for the Deccan, taking the direction of Ahmednagar.

The minister, Mian Munja, who called in this foreign aid, had repented of the step, and therefore prepared to meet the prince as if he had come not as an ally, but as an enemy. Having provisioned and otherwise prepared for the defence of Ahmednagar, he gave the command of it to the Princess Chand Bibi, who had been queen and dowager-regent of the neighbouring kingdom of Bijapur, and marched toward the Bijapur frontier with the remainder of the army. Prince Murad Mirza and Mirza Khan having united their forces, met the altered circumstances by laying aside their ostensible character as auxiliaries, and assuming that of principals in the war.

Chand Bibi, equally prepared to act her part, and when the Mughuls opened the siege of Ahmednagar, made a most resolute defence, counterworking their mines, superintending the repairing of breaches, and often making her appearance, sword in hand, to animate the garrison when their spirits began to fail. Not contented with thus resisting in the fort, she entered into correspondence with the neighbouring kings; and, by vivid description of the common danger by which they were threatened, succeeded in forming a confederacy which levied a powerful army for the purpose of advancing to her relief. The Mughuls, anxious to effect a capture before this army could arrive, fired their mines, which blew up about eighty feet of the wall, and threw the garrison into such consternation that they would have given up the place had not Chand Bibi, appearing among them with a veil on her face and a naked sword in her hand, animated them to new exertions. She caused guns to be brought to bear on the assailants, and stones to be hurled upon them, so that the ditch was filled with their dead. During the night she stood by the breach, superintending the workmen, and did not depart till she had seen it built up to such a height as to be no longer practicable. It was now the turn of the Mughuls to be disheartened; and Prince Murad was glad to conclude a peace which left Ahmednagar and its dependencies entire in the hands of its native sovereign, and only required him to renounce some obsolete or unavailable claim on the throne of Berar.

No sooner was this treaty ratified than the dissensions among the princes of the Deccan, which had only been suspended by a common danger, again broke out. Among other follies, they voluntarily assumed the offensive against the Great Mughul; and, in the very face of their recent engagement, marched a hostile force into Berar. Akbar had thus only too good ground for interfering; and he accordingly resolved, in 1599, to take the field in person. One cause of this resolution is said to have been the desire to divert his thoughts, and lighten the grief which he felt for the loss of his second son, Prince Murad, who had died of a sudden illness. Another care weighing heavily upon him was the misconduct of his eldest son, Prince Salim. He had formally appointed him his successor, and treated him with the utmost indulgence, but met with a most ungrateful return. The prince had become the slave of intoxication, and under its influence was hurried into several crimes. One of these was treason, which he carried so far that it had assumed the form of open revolt, from which, however, second and better thoughts induced him to desist. Another crime which stains his memory, is the share he had in the murder of Abulfazal, who had long been his father’s favourite minister, and is still celebrated as the historian of his reign. Abulfazal was returning from the Deccan when he fell into an ambuscade, which Nara Singh Deo, Raja of Orcha, in Bundelkhand, had laid for him, at the instigation of Prince Salim, and fell fighting valiantly. Had Akbar been aware of the share which his son had in this atrocity, he would probably have taken effectual steps to disinherit him; since, without this additional aggravation, the tidings so affected him that he wept bitterly, and passed two days and nights without sleep.

This first paroxysm over, he vowed revenge, and took it by inflicting on Nara Singh Deo and all his race severities of which his reign happily affords few examples.

In the south Akbar’s usual good fortune had attended him; his arms, though not uniformly, were so generally successful, that most of the princes hastened to make their submission; and he returned to Agra in 1602, so satisfied with the result, that in a proclamation which he issued, he assumed, in addition to his other titles, that of Prince of the Deccan. While thus at the head of a mighty empire, of which he had himself been the main architect, and surrounded by a magnificence which few if any sovereigns have ever equalled, Akbar, in his declining years, was far from happy. He had scarcely ceased to mourn for his second son, when his third son, Prince Daniel, whose marriage in 1604 he had celebrated with great festivities, died within a twelvemonth, the victim of his own drunken habits. But his sorrow for the dead members of his family was not so distressing as the shame and agony produced by the misconduct of the living. Salim, his only surviving son and destined successor, after a promise of reform, had sunk deeper than ever in his vicious courses, acting habitually with the caprice of a madman and the cruelty of a tyrant. A quarrel with his own son Khusrav had such an effect on that youth’s mother, that she destroyed herself by poison. Akbar, who had through life manifested the greatest decision, seems now to have hesitated as to his future arrangements. He shuddered at the thought of being succeeded by Salim, and yet in Khusrav, Salim’s eldest son, he beheld the very passions which disgraced Salim himself. There was a third son, Khurram. He had entwined himself around the heart of his grandfather, but the fearful consequences of disputed succession appear to have deterred him from making any destination in his favour. Amid these distressing trials and perplexities, his health began visibly to give way, and after an illness, during the last ten days of which he was confined to bed, and employed much of his time in giving good counsels to his son, he expired on the 13th of October, 1605. Of the sixty-four years of his life, fifty-one had been spent on the throne. He was buried near Agra, in a tomb consisting of a solid pyramid, surrounded by cloisters, galleries, and domes, and of such immense dimensions, that for a year or two after the conquest of the surrounding territory by the British, a whole European regiment of dragoons was quartered in it.

Akbar is described as of a manly, athletic, and handsome form, fair complexion, pleasing features, and captivating manners. In early life his tastes were somewhat epicurean, and he indulged in wine; in his latter years he was abstemious, both in meat and drink. He had no vindictiveness in his nature; and, however much he might have been provoked, was always ready to extend pardon to every one who asked it. His courage was so decided as often to amount to rashness; and the chivalrous prevailed so much in his temper, that he often underwent great toils and exposed himself to great perils, from a mere love of adventure. His intellect, though not of the first order, was remarkably acute, and nothing pleased him more than discussions of a metaphysical and puzzling nature. When not actually engaged in these discussions, he delighted to be present at them as a listener; and amused himself with the wranglings of philosophical or religious sects, whose leaders he on various occasions summoned to court for this very purpose. One of the most remarkable of these discussions took place when he had held a meeting of Muhammedan doctors and Portuguese missionaries, and deluded the latter by pretending to have some idea of becoming a Christian convert. The truth seems to be, that he had few serious convictions of any kind, and employed his acuteness, not so much for the purpose of discovering, as of evading truth.

In private life he was a kind and indulgent parent, and a generous, warm-hearted, and strongly attached friend. Indeed, it may be truly said, that the only real griefs which he suffered through life had their source in these two relations. As a military commander, he takes high rank. He did not fight many great battles, but often, after some of his ablest officers had fought and lost them, he no sooner made his appearance in the field than fortune, which had forsaken them, seemed to return, and defeat was converted into victory. In the cabinet he was still more successful than in the field; and possessed in the highest degree the art of winning the affections of all with whom he came in contact, and rendering their varied talents and influence subservient to the advancement of his service. For the first time Muhammedans and Hindus were seen, during his reign, working harmoniously together, while holding places of honour and trust near the throne.

Akbar’s best fame is founded on his internal administration, into which so many important improvements were introduced, that it would be difficult to enumerate them. Suffice it here to say, that in every department of the state, business was conducted on rational, liberal, and tolerant principles; justice was administered impartially among all classes of subjects, without reference to birth or religious profession; and the revenue was raised in the manner supposed to be most equitable and least oppressive. Having first fixed a uniform standard of measurement, he carefully ascertained the extent and relative productiveness of each landed tenement, and then fairly apportioned the amount of taxation which each ought to bear. In this way there was little room for favouritism; and a burden which, while it lay equally upon all, was not excessive in its amount, was borne easily and without grudging.

In connection with Akbar’s revenue system may be mentioned his administrative divisions of the empire into provinces or subahs, each of which was governed by a head officer called a subahdar, whose powers were equivalent to those of a viceroy, all authority, civil as well as military, within the province being vested in him. Subordinate to the subahdar, though appointed not by him, but by the king, was an officer, with the title of dewan or diwan, who had the superintendence of all matters of revenue and finance. The subahs, originally fifteen, were, in consequence of additional conquests, raised to eighteen. Of these twelve were in Hindustan and six in the Deccan.

Among the enactments of Akbar which deserve notice for their human and liberal spirit, and at the same time throw some reflection on the tardy legislation of the British government on the same subjects, are his prohibition of the burning of Hindu widows against their will, and his permitting them to marry again, though the Hindu law expressly forbids it. The same humane and liberal spirit appears in his prohibition of Jizya or capitation tax on infidels, which had placed an enormous, irresponsible, and much-abused power in the hands of fanatical Muhammedans; and in the abolition of the practice of making slaves of prisoners taken in war—a practice under the cover of which not only the wives and children captured in camps or fortified places, but the peaceable inhabitants of any hostile country, were seized and carried off into slavery. These enactments gave grievous offence—those affecting the Hindus being odious to the Brahmins, and those which laid restraints on the Muhammedans being seized upon by the Mullas, and urged as a proof that Akbar himself was an infidel. A still stronger proof was supposed to be found in a matter of court etiquette, on which Akbar seems to have insisted with more pertinacity than is easily reconcilable with his usual moderation. He had a dislike to the beard, and would scarcely admit a person who wore it to his presence. Unfortunately his feeling in this respect was in direct opposition to an injunction of the Qoran; and several of the more zealous Muhammedan chiefs chose rather to forgo the honours and pleasures of the court than conform to a regulation, the observance of which seemed incompatible with orthodoxy.

Among the public works executed during the reign of Akbar, are the walls and citadels of Agra and Allahabad, the foundation of the city of Fatehpur on the site of the village of Sikri, for which, as the birth-place of two of his sons, he had conceived a strong partiality; the splendid palace erected in that city for his own residence, and near it a mosque remarkable for the beauty and majestic proportions of its architecture; and the white marble mosque and palace of Agra, in both of which simplicity and elegance are happily combined. Another work of Akbar, though not strictly of a public nature, is the tomb of his father Humayun at Delhi. Its commanding position, its magnitude and solidity, and its stupendous dome of white marble, have long made it celebrated as one of the greatest of his structures; while a new interest has recently been given to it as the scene of the capture of the last and, all things considered, the most worthless representative of the Great Mughul—the present (January, 1858) so-called King of Delhi. It would be unpardonable, in referring to the performances of Akbar’s reign, not to mention another work which, though of a very different nature from any of the above, might have shed greater lustre on his reign than the most celebrated of them. This work was a translation of the gospels into Persian. It was undertaken by Akbar’s special directions, and intrusted to a Portuguese missionary, who, unfortunately, instead of executing it faithfully, committed what is called a pious fraud, and produced a spurious translation, disfigured and adulterated by lying Popish legends. The sad consequence is, that a work which, issued under the auspices of the Great Mughul, might have given a knowledge of pure Christianity in influential quarters which could not otherwise be reached, has only had the effect of presenting it under a debased and polluted form.