Empress

by Ruby Lal

  Taken aback by Mahabat’s audacity, the emperor left the royal pavilion and seated himself on a raised platform, a sort of open-air throne. Mahabat saluted Jahangir, feigning submission and speaking deferentially. Since escaping the deadly malice of Asaf was impossible, he told Jahangir, he was throwing himself on the emperor’s mercy. But even as Mahabat spoke, more of his men rode up, fully armed.

  Realizing Mahabat’s treachery, Jahangir twice placed his hand on his sword as if to draw it, restraining himself on the advice of a noble who said to him in Turkish that the time was not right. Then, openly revealing his true purpose, Mahabat addressed the emperor: “It is time to ride. Mount as usual with this devoted slave next to you so that it will look as though this bold and audacious act was done by me at your command.”5 He offered his own horse to the emperor, but Jahangir refused to ride the horse of a bidawlat, a disgraceful one, and ordered his men to bring forward the imperial horse. He rode a distance of two arrow-shots from the imperial pavilion—a few hundred yards—then switched without protest to a waiting elephant, which knelt to accept its passengers.

  At some point, paymaster Mu’tamad slipped away, most likely to warn Nur about what was going on. Several retainers stayed close to their monarch. Three trusted Rajput imperial guards took seats surrounding the emperor in the howdah atop the elephant. The celebrated surgeon Muqarrab Khan, who shared Jahangir’s interests in the curiosities of the world, was traveling with the royal cavalcade; he too got into the howdah, even though Mahabat tried to chase him away by hitting him on the head with a stick. Jahangir’s wine-and-bowl-holder, the noble Khidmatparast Khan, whose name translates as Soaked with Service, began climbing into the howdah as the elephant stood up. Mahabat’s soldiers attempted to yank him down but he held on, and the entourage moved forward with Khidmatparast dangling from the elephant until he scrambled behind the howdah. The overseer of the imperial stables followed on another elephant, along with his son, to keep an eye on the monarch. Anyone who saw the emperor in the center of this hastily mustered retinue would think he was heading out to hunt with his inner circle, along with Mahabat and Mahabat’s men.

  When Mahabat realized his folly in leaving Nur Jahan at liberty, he brought Jahangir and his retainers back to the royal compound, to keep an eye on them while he sought out the empress. But Nur was already safely on the other side of the river, planning her husband’s rescue. Mahabat also thought about Shahryar. Letting him stay free would be another great error. A free prince, especially Nur Jahan’s son-in-law, could be a big risk. To circumvent trouble, Mahabat led Jahangir to Shahryar’s tent, where the emperor spent the night and the next day with his son, under guard.

  Perhaps to maintain the appearance of decorum as his hastily crafted kidnapping occurred, Mahabat allowed Jahangir to send Nur two messages. According to the poet Mulla Kami Shirazi, who wrote a fulsome eyewitness account of these events, the first message expressed the emperor’s misery at being separated from Nur and asked her to come to him: “… without her the flower of my pleasure and delight has fallen down in pieces; and I have stuck to my skirt the thorn of her separation/And if she desires my safety she should start immediately and not quarrel with the circumstances.”6

  Hearing these words, Nur bowed her head as a mark of respect, then told the messenger that she was unyielding in her resolve to conquer the “source of deceit and deception,” as she called Mahabat.7 The second message came after Jahangir somehow learned that Nur and Asaf were preparing to fight. The emperor urged his wife and her brother not to cross the river and provoke a futile and hazardous battle that might endanger them all.8

  But Nur, Asaf, and the council of nobles proceeded with their plans. They knew that Jahangir was being held in Shahryar’s quarters on the far side of the Mughal encampment, now guarded by Mahabat’s men. Crossing the deep, swift waters of the river in the presence of Mahabat’s soldiers would be a challenge, but the overseer of the royal barge and inspector of ships concluded that there were sections of the river shallow enough to ford. Nur and her commanders drew up detailed plans for carefully distributing their troops, horses, elephants, guns, and cannons.

  On March 18, sitting atop a war elephant and armed with a musket, Nur led the Mughal forces into the swiftly moving river.9 Angry waves swirled, elephants trumpeted, and royal servants blew bugles. Mounted on horses and armed with guns and swords, Asaf Khan and his son, other distinguished nobles, some cavalry, a few camels, and hundreds of foot soldiers secured the near riverbank opposite Mahabat’s troops, then set out for the far side. But the crossing chosen by the overseer of the royal barge turned out to be a treacherous part of the churning river, with three or four stretches of deep water. When the men and animals hit these spots, their orderly advance turned chaotic. Asaf’s son managed to make it to the opposite shore, where he killed Mahabat’s brother. Suddenly Asaf feared that when Mahabat learned that his brother was dead, he might retaliate by killing Jahangir. He withdrew from the battle, planning some other scheme to rescue the emperor.

  Nur Jahan, thinking that her brother Asaf was still with her, moved forward on her elephant, close to the ranks of Mahabat’s men: amid “a tumultuous noise and commotion among the enemies.”10 An account of the battle by an eighteenth-century courtier named Muhammad Hadi reported that despite the uproar, while cavalry and foot soldiers, horses, and camels plunged into the turbulent water, Mu’tamad stood near a tributary of the river having a philosophical conversation about fate with another dignitary. The empress’s eunuch Nadim approached him with a reprimand: “Her Majesty wants to know why you have stopped to contemplate. Be brave, for as soon as you enter the battle, the foe will be routed …”11 Mu’tamad and his companion rushed into battle, but the foe stood firm—and Nur’s forces were in disarray, struggling to keep from drowning; waterlogged saddles and blankets dragged their horses down. On the opposite bank, Mahabat’s troops and elephants guarding the way to the emperor formed a fearsome wall.

  Nur drew closer to the riverside lined with Mahabat’s men and elephants, shooting continuously as she advanced. Her elephant received two sword wounds on its trunk, and two spears cut gashes in its back. The handler of Nur’s elephant urged the injured animal back into the deepest part of the water, and it managed to swim to the safety of their bank. As Nur retreated on the wounded elephant, a band of her followers assembled on the river’s edge, shooting to keep the enemy from coming after the empress. Her high-ranking eunuchs Nadim and Jawahir were slain.

  Meanwhile, another eunuch, Jahangir’s master of ceremonies Fidai Khan, led a group of soldiers across the river toward the emperor. Six men accompanying him perished in the chilly water, and several others returned to the near shore severely wounded. With a gallant effort, Fidai and some soldiers made it to the far shore, fought Mahabat’s troops, and got as far as Shahryar’s quarters, ringed by Mahabat’s men. Fidai fired arrows into Shahryar’s encampment. Many of them landed in a private courtyard near where Jahangir was being held, and one accidentally killed a loyal courtier who was shielding the emperor. Fidai’s horse was wounded and four men fighting with him died. When it was clear that he couldn’t break through to save the emperor, Fidai raced back through the enemy line to the river, and swam to the other side.

  Dismounting from her bleeding elephant, the empress walked back to her brother’s tented compound. Nur Jahan understood that she would have to join her imprisoned husband on the other side of the river and accept Mahabat’s terms—at least temporarily. She needed to come up with a new rescue plan. It would, she knew, take some time to formulate and execute. Her forces had suffered great losses. Scores of officers had been killed; high-ranking nobles had fled.

  Asaf, meanwhile, had retreated with his son, 200 horsemen, bearers, and servants, to the fortress at nearby Attock, between the river Indus and the road to Peshawar. From there he too hoped to plan a rescue, and perhaps muster more men.

  After watching Nur bravely lead her men into battle, the court poet Shirazi wr
ote a masnavi, a long composition in rhyming couplets, divided into nine chapters, called Waqi’at uz-zaman (The events of the time), which he dedicated to the empress. Included in it was a segment entitled “Fathnama-i Nur Jahan Begum” (Chronicle of the victory of Nur Jahan Begum). This account of Nur’s victory is the only part of the larger work that survives.

  Another eyewitness, paymaster-historian Mu’tamad, who fought on Nur’s side, also wrote about the battle of 1626. So did the Mughal chronicler Bhakkari and the eighteenth-century courtier Muhammad Hadi. While these men disagreed on some details, they were unanimous in their conviction that Nur managed and led her men with courage and skill. “Her glory and dignity had captured the world,” Shirazi wrote.12

  None of these chroniclers tells exactly when Nur returned to the far side of the river where Jahangir was being held, or whether she went willingly. After the battle on the river, the next recorded event is the continued journey of the defeated Mughal convoy to Kabul, with Nur and Jahangir at the center, but with Mahabat in charge of the halts, the marches, the order of procession. Fearful and unsure of what might happen next, Mahabat kept up appearances; he remained respectful to Jahangir, careful to avoid any open suggestion that the emperor and empress were captives.

  Learning that Asaf and his troops had regrouped in Attock, on the route to Kabul, Mahabat sent a number of men commanded by his son to attack the fortress with the help of local landlords. When the royal cavalcade reached Attock, Mahabat asked permission from the emperor and empress to negotiate Asaf’s surrender. Taking him into custody, while promising to spare his life, Mahabat ordered Asaf and his son to join the royal captives on the road to Kabul. At the same time, he meted out severe punishments to some of Asaf’s men, executing many. A mullah was chained, and when the loose chains fell off, Mahabat suspected sorcery. The mullah began reciting Quranic verses. Convinced that the cleric was cursing him, Mahabat ordered the man cut to pieces.

  Was Mahabat’s detention of Jahangir, the first recorded revolt of a noble against a Mughal emperor, simply retaliation for an injured sense of honor? Or was he aspiring to something else? Contemporary and later chroniclers thought Mahabat wanted a central part in Mughal rule. But if his ambition was to control the empire, he’d done little groundwork. For a start, he would need the support of a Mughal prince, and though Mahabat had served with Parvez, who was still in the Deccan, the chances of a successful alliance with him were small.

  Those writing in later times about this period say that when Shah Jahan heard what Mahabat had done to his father on the banks of the Bahat, he flew into a rage. Whether because he feared an alliance between Mahabat and Parvez, or because he was eager to assure his father of his renewed allegiance, he decided to go after Mahabat, even with his few troops and limited supplies. In the first week of June 1626, Shah Jahan set out from the south with 1,000 horsemen, hoping to gather more support along the way. In Ajmer, one of his supporters died and his 500-man unit dispersed. With only 500 men left, Shah Jahan abandoned the idea of rescue and returned to the southern provinces.

  Mahabat had taken charge of Mughal affairs. He told Jahangir, now a puppet emperor, what to do, and pushed Nur to the sidelines. In April 1626 the Mughals reached Kabul, nearly four hundred miles from the site of the kidnapping and the battle on the Bahat River. Residents gathered to greet the royal couple, who scattered coins as they moved through the marketplace. To the throngs of Jahangir’s subjects, this viewing was simply an auspicious moment. They had no idea that the emperor and the empress were in custody.

  It was an unusual captivity. Jahangir and Nur were prisoners, but court etiquette and daily proceedings remained intact. The two weren’t held at gunpoint. Mahabat kept a close eye on the pair, but left them to their routine activities, such as visits to the tombs of Jahangir’s great-grandfather Babur and his great-aunt Gulbadan and excursions to a garden near the Kabul fortress. Nur and Jahangir met with the leader of the Hazara, a local tribal people; Nur gave their leader’s son gems and gilded utensils, gifts meant to forge a new alliance. The couple hunted ibexes, mountain rams, bears, and hyenas. As a major jagirdar, Nur Jahan was allowed to maintain and regularly parade her small cavalry, a ceremonial event that caused Mahabat no alarm.

  A messenger brought Jahangir the news of his enemy Malik Ambar’s death—no cause for celebration since there was no real Mughal military presence prepared to take over the Deccan, though Parvez was nominally in charge of a few troops there. Shah Jahan was waiting to see what would happen next in the south before he tried to forge new alliances. All the kingdoms of the Deccan remained intact and independent. Not long after he heard about Ambar’s demise, the emperor recieved the troubling news that Prince Parvez was unconscious, seriously ill with an intestinal obstruction, the same malady that allegedly killed his brother Khusraw. Gossip suggested that heavy drinking had contributed to Parvez’s decline. At around the same time, the sons of Shah Jahan, sent to the emperor as part of the rebel prince’s penance, arrived in Kabul.

  Behind the scenes, Nur Jahan was doing more than carrying out her ritual public obligations. She was planning the recovery of Mughal authority, calculating how best to preserve the world she and Jahangir had so carefully built. Her daily schedule allowed her to meet regularly with several intimates and loyalists. With them, she began to formulate her plans, promising the battle-worn warriors still with her that reinforcements would come. She wooed discontented and resentful nobles back into the imperial camp, allaying the fears of those who remained hesitant, holding out hopes of high offices. According to one account, she spent gold coins worth 300,000 rupees from her own pocket. Through a written order, she instructed her new eunuch, Hoshyar Khan, to begin mustering troops in Lahore. He recruited 2,000 horsemen and 5,000 armed foot soldiers. All this planning took place in secret, unnoticed by Mahabat, while Jahangir pretended friendliness.

  One day some of Mahabat’s Rajput soldiers left their base camp and rode out to a well-known Kabul hunting ground to let their horses graze. This imperial hunting preserve was entrusted to the care of guards, called ahadis, unaffiliated with any commanders or landlords. One of the ahadis objected to having the horses graze in the preserve. The exchange turned nasty and the Rajputs hacked him to pieces. When his relatives went to the court and cried out for justice, an official told them that the request would be forwarded to the emperor and an inquest held. Unsatisfied, the ahadis returned to the imperial hunting preserve.

  Nur Jahan seized the opportunity and sent out instructions that the ahadis, expert archers, should move against Mahabat’s men. The next morning the ahadis attacked the Rajput camp in a narrow valley and killed nearly 900 Rajputs, several of them close associates of Mahabat, whom he was said to love “more than his own offspring.”13 Mahabat set out to join the battle, but changed his mind halfway. Fearing that he might be killed in the fray, he returned to the safety of his compound. The attack shook him, and he became more inclined to follow the emperor’s suggestions than to give orders himself.14

  Following Nur’s advice, the emperor worked to calm Mahabat’s suspicions. Jahangir showed him special favors, and seemed to take him into confidence, warning him that Nur intended to attack him, and that Asaf’s daughter-in-law, the granddaughter of General Rahim, had announced that whenever she had the opportunity, she would shoot Mahabat Khan with a musket.15 As Jahangir gradually gained his captor’s trust, Mahabat became less watchful and reduced the number of men stationed at the traveling palace compound. After the bitter ahadi-Rajput combat, there had been no further clashes, no disturbing incidents. But on the banks of the Bahat River, troops loyal to the empress were preparing for battle.

  In early August 1626, the royal retinue, still under the ostensible command of Mahabat, left Kabul on the return trip to Lahore, retracing their route. By late September, the imperial cavalcade had nearly covered the four hundred miles back to the Bahat River, where Mahabat had taken the emperor and empress captive. When the cavalcade was two days’ ride fro
m the river, Jahangir sent a note to Mahabat saying that he wished to review Nur’s cavalry, so it would be best for Mahabat to postpone his own daily parade of troops, lest words should pass between the two parties and lead to strife. Mahabat saw the message as yet another sign of confidence and cooperation on the part of the emperor. What Mahabat didn’t know was that the empress was just then adding two thousand men to her cavalry.

  Jahangir sent a second message, expressing his wish that Mahabat and his men move on in advance of the royal retinue to the Bahat River, the next big stop on the journey to Lahore. Mahabat agreed—but as insurance against harm, he insisted Asaf travel with him.

  Instead of following Mahabat down the road, the royal retinue, including Nur’s cavalry and nobles loyal to the emperor, took off at a brisk pace on a parallel route. They didn’t stop for the night, and managed to cover two days’ journey in one, reaching the river before Mahabat.

  Nur, Jahangir, and their party crossed the river by boat. On the other side, Nur’s cavalry was joined by several courtiers and the soldiers she’d secretly had them gather.16 When Mahabat arrived and understood that Jahangir and Nur were now in command of a large number of loyal troops, enough to overpower him and his men, he knew that his imperial design was over. Nur had engineered the final rescue of the emperor and the empire.

  Jahangir dispatched an order to Mahabat: He was to return Asaf and two nephews of Nur’s who were still with him. Further, the emperor instructed him to leave for the eastern provinces. That Jahangir exiled Mahabat rather than executing him for treason may have been because Shah Jahan’s behavior was even more undependable. Despite begging his father’s forgiveness and sending his sons to Jahangir as a sign of fealty, Shah Jahan had renewed his rebellion. With 500 men, he was heading to Sind on the border of the Mughal and Safavid empires, in the hopes of eventually getting help from the Safavid shah.