The Fifteenth New Year’s Feast after the Auspicious Accession
The transit of the sun, that fulfils the hopes of the world, into his house of honour in Aries, took place on Friday, the 15th of the month of Rabīʿu-s̤-s̤ānī in the Hijrī year 1029, (10 March), 1620, after 12½ gharis, or 5 sidereal hours,[1] had passed, and the 15th year of the reign of this suppliant at the throne of Allah commenced happily and auspiciously. On Saturday, the 2nd (Farwardīn), having marched 4½ koss, I halted at the village of Bakkar. On this road there was no hill-pass (kotal), but it was rather stony. I saw peacocks, black partridges, and monkeys (langūr), such as exist in the Garmsīr country (Afghanistan). It is evident that these can also exist in cold countries. From this place to Kashmir the road is along the bank of the river Bihat. There are hills on both sides, and in the bottom of the valley the water flows with great force, boiling and raging. However large an elephant may be, he cannot hold his feet firmly in it, but immediately rolls over, and is carried away. There are also water-dogs[2] in the river. On Sunday, the 3rd, marching 4½ koss, I pitched at Mūsarān. On the eve of Friday the merchants who live in the pargana of Bāra Mūla came and paid their respects. I asked the reason of the name of Bāra mūla, and they represented that in the Hindi language they call a boar Bārāh (Varaha) and mūla a place—that is, the boars’ place. Among the incarnations that belong to the religion of the Hindus, one is the boar incarnation, and Bārāh mūla by constant use has become Bāra mūla. On Monday, the 4th, marching 2½ koss, I pitched at Bhūlbās. As they said these hills were very narrow and difficult (to pass), and they could be crossed by a crowd of men only with great trouble, I gave orders to Muʿtamid K. that, with the exception of Āṣaf K. and a few of the necessary attendants, no one should be allowed to march along with the prosperous stirrup (with the king personally), and the camp should be kept one stage behind. By chance, before this order was given, he had sent on his own tent. After this he wrote to his men that this order had been given with regard to him, and they should halt at whatever spot they had reached. His brothers heard this at the foot of the kotal of Bhūlbās,[3] and pitched their own tent there. When the royal host reached the place, snow and rain began to fall. One plain of the road had not been crossed when his tent became visible. Looking on this as a gift from the hidden world, I and the ladies alighted, and remained protected from the cold and snow and rain. His brothers, according to orders, sent someone in haste to summon him. When the news reached him that the elephants and the advance camp had arrived at the top of the kotal, and blocked up the road, as it was impossible to ride, with great zeal, he, not knowing his head from his feet, traversed a distance of 2½ koss on foot in two hours, and came to wait on me, and repeated this couplet with the tongue of gesture.[4]
Verse.
“At midnight came the thought of thee. I was ashamed and resigned my life.
The poor man was abashed when suddenly the guest arrived.”
All that was in his store (bisāt̤) in the way of money and goods, of live stock or dead, he offered for me to tread upon. I gave them all back, and said: “What do worldly goods appear worth to the eye of our magnanimity? We buy the jewel of loyalty at a high figure. Such an event arising out of his devotion should be reckoned as the rising of his good star, in that a king like me with the people of his harem should remain in his house in comfort and at ease for a night and a day. It would be a cause of honour to him among his contemporaries and comrades.” On Tuesday, the 5th, having traversed 2 koss, I alighted at the village of Kahāʾī.[5] I presented the dress (sar u pāy) I had on to Muʿtamid K., and an order was given assigning him the mansab of 1,500 personal and l,500[6] horse. From this stage we entered within the boundary of Kashmīr. In the same kotal of Bhūlbās, Yaʿqūb, s. Yūsuf K. Kas͟hmīrī, fought with the victorious army of my father, of which Rāja Bhagwān Dās, father of Rāja Mān Singh, was the leader.
On this day, the news came that Suhrāb K., s. Rustam Mīrzā, had been drowned in the Jhelam. The details are as follows: He, according to orders, was coming up one stage in the rear, and on the road it came into his mind that he would have a bathe in the river, though warm water was ready. The people forbade him, and said that when the air was so cold, unnecessarily to get into a river so agitated and bloodthirsty that it would roll over a war-elephant, was contrary to the dictates of caution. He was not restrained by their words, and as the unavoidable destined time had arrived, got in. From excessive self-will and pride and carelessness, in reliance on his powers of swimming, in which art he was unequalled, he was more determined than ever, and with a k͟hidmatīyya (Blochmann 252) and another servant, both of whom could swim, mounted a rock on the river bank and threw himself in. Immediately he fell, from the violent movement of the waves, he could not pull himself together or try to swim; to fall in and go were the same thing, and Suhrāb K.[7] and the k͟hidmatīyya thus gave away the goods of their lives to the flood of destruction. The boatman,[8] with a hundred difficulties, brought the boat of his being (himself) in safety to the shore. Mīrzā Rustam was much attached to this son. On hearing of this fatal news on the Pūnch road, he rent the robe of patience, and showed great agitation. With all his dependants, clothed in mourning garments, with head and feet bare, he came to wait on me. What shall I write of the grief of the mother? Although the Mīrzā has other sons, his heart was bound up in this one. His age was twenty-six years. In shooting with a gun he was an excellent pupil of his father, and knew well how to drive elephants and carriages. On the expedition to Gujarat he was often ordered to ride on the front part of my private elephant, and he was an active soldier.[9]
On Wednesday, the 6th, marching 3 koss, I pitched at the village of Rīwand. On Thursday, the 7th, crossing the kotal of Kuwārmat,[10] which is the most difficult on this road (MS.), I alighted at the village of Wachaha (MS. and print differ). The distance of this stage is 4¼ koss. The kotal of Kuwārmat (Kulāmat in the MS.) is a difficult one, and is the last of the kotals on the road. On Friday, the 8th, having traversed nearly 4 koss, I halted at the village of Baltār.[11] There was no kotal on this road. It was broad, and plain after plain, and mead after mead, of flowers. Sweet-smelling plants of narcissus, violet, and strange flowers that grow in this country, came to view. Among these flowers I saw (noticed especially) one extraordinary one. It had five or six orange flowers blooming with their heads downwards. From the middle of the flowers there came out some green leaves, as in the case[12] of the pineapple (?). This is the būlānīk[13] flower. There is another flower like the pūy (?), round which are small flowers of the shape and colour of the jessamine, some blue in colour and some red, with yellow points in the middle, exceedingly pretty in appearance: its name is “ladar pūs͟h.” They call it pūs͟h-i-ʿaliyyu-l-ʿumūm[14] (the common pūs͟h?). There are many yellow arg͟hawān (Judas-trees) on the road as well. The flowers of Kashmīr are beyond counting and calculation. Which shall I write of? And how many can I describe? I have only mentioned the most remarkable. There is a waterfall on this road, very high and fine. It flows down from a high place. No other waterfall of such beauty was seen on the road. I delayed a moment at it, and filled my eye and heart with gazing on it from a high spot. On Saturday, the 9th, I marched 4¾ koss, and crossed over at Bāramūla.[15] It is one of the noted towns of Kashmīr, and 14 koss[16] distant from the city, situated on the bank of the Bihat. A number of the merchants of Kashmir live in it, and have built houses and mosques on the bank of the river, and spend their days in ease and contentment. According to orders, before the arrival of the host of prosperity, they had prepared decorated boats at the place. As[17] the hour for entry (into Srinagar) had been fixed for Monday, when two watches of the day had passed, on Sunday, the 10th, I entered S͟hihābu-d-dīn-pūr. On this day Dilāwar K. Kākar, the Governor of Kashmir, came from Kis͟htwār,[18] and had the good fortune to kiss the threshold. He was exalted with various royal favours and all kinds of imperial gratifications. He had done his duty here in an acceptable manner, and it is hoped that the great Giver of favours may light up the foreheads of all my servants with honour.
Kis͟htwār is to the south of Kashmir. From the city of Kashmir (Srinagar) to the stage of Alkah (?),[19] which is the capital of Kis͟htwār, the distance is 60 koss by measurement. On the 10th of the Ilāhī month of S͟hahriwar, in my 14th year, Dilāwar K., with 10,000 horse and foot, determined to conquer Kis͟htwār. He appointed his son, Ḥasan by name, with Gird ʿAlī Mīr-baḥr (admiral) to guard the city and administer the territory. And as Gohar Chak and Aiba Chak laid claim to Kashmir as heirs, and were stirring up strife in Kis͟htwār, and were wandering in the valley of confusion and ruin, he left Haibat, one of his brothers, with a force at Desū, which is near the kotal of Pīr Panjāl, by way of caution, and, dividing his forces at that place, he himself hastened with a force by the road of Sangīnpūr, sending his son Jalāl, with Naṣru-llah ʿArab, and ʿAlī Malik Kas͟hmīrī, and a band of Jahāngīrī servants by another road, and his elder son Jamāl with a band of zealous young men as an advanced guard to his own force. At the same time he placed two other forces to move forward on his right and left. As no horses could go on the road, by way of precaution he took some with him, but left nearly[20] all his sipahis’ horses behind, and sent them to Kashmir (i.e., Srinagar). The young men girded the belt of duty on their waists, and went up the hills on foot. The g͟hāzīs of the army of Islam fought from post to post with the ill-fated unbelievers as far as Narkot, which was one of the enemy’s strongholds. There the corps of Jalāl and Jamāl, which had been sent by different roads, met, and the enemy, not having the power to oppose them, took to flight. The brave ones who offered their lives traversed many ups and downs with the courage of determination, and hastened on to the Mārū river. On the bank of that river the fire of slaughter was lighted, and the g͟hāzīs of the army of Islam displayed approved activity. The ill-fated Aiba Chak, with many of the people of ruin, were slain. By the death of Aiba the Raja became powerless and without heart, and took the road of flight, and, crossing by the bridge, stopped at Bhandarkoṭ, which is on the other side. A band of the brave ones (bahādurān) quickly advanced, wishing to cross the bridge. A great fight took place at its head, and some of the young men attained to martyrdom. In this way for twenty days and nights the servants of the Court tried to cross the river, and the unbelievers of darkened fortune did not fail to attack and try to drive them back, until Dilāwar K., after establishing thānas and arranging for the commissariat, arrived with his army. The Raja, by way of stratagem and vulpine trickery, sent his Vakils to Dilāwar K., and begged that he might send his brother with offerings to the Court, so that when his offences obtained pardon, and his mind were freed from fear and trouble, he could also himself proceed to the Court, the refuge of the world, and kiss the threshold. Dilāwar K. did not lend his ear to these deceitful words, and did not throw away from his hand the coin of opportunity. He dismissed the envoys of the Raja without the attainment of their object, and made every exertion to cross the bridge. His eldest son Jamāl, with a band of the crocodiles of the sea of bravery and valour, went up the river, and by bravely swimming it although swollen crossed over, and engaged in a fierce battle with the enemy. The devoted servants of the Court made an attack from the other side, and made matters tight for these ruined people. These, when they found they had no longer the strength to oppose them, broke down the planking of the bridge, and took to flight. The victorious servants made the bridge strong again, and transported the remainder of the army. Dilāwar K͟hān drew up his forces at Bhandarkoṭ. From the aforesaid river (the Mārū) to the Chenāb, which is a strong support of these unfortunate people, is a distance of two bow-shots, and on the bank of the Chenāb there is a lofty hill. The crossing of the water is a difficult matter, and, with a view to the coming and going of people on foot, they attach strong ropes, and place planks of the width of a cubit between two ropes, and fasten one rope’s end to the top of the hill, and the other on the other side of the water. Then they attach two other ropes a gaz higher than these, that foot-passengers may place their feet on the planks, and, taking hold of the upper ropes, may descend from the top of the hill to the bottom, and so cross the river. This bridge they call zampa, in the language of the people of the hill country. Wherever they apprehended that a rope bridge might be constructed, they stationed musketeers and archers and men-at-arms, and so felt secure. Dilāwar K. made rafts (jhāla), and, placing on them eighty of his valiant young men, sent them across the river at night. As the water was flowing with great violence, the rafts were carried down by the flood of destruction, and sixty-eight of these gallant men were drowned in the sea of non-existence, and obtained the renown of martyrdom, whilst ten, by the aid of swimming, reached the shore of safety (i.e., returned), and two on the other side became prisoners in the hands of the infidels. In short, for four months and ten days Dilāwar K͟hān, having planted the foot of courage at Bhandarkoṭ, made endeavours to cross over; but the arrow of stratagem did not reach the target of intent until a Zamindar pointed out a place which the enemy had no idea of. There, having constructed a zampah, in the heart of night, Jalāl, Dilāwar K.’s son, with some of the servants of the Court and a band of Afghans, about 200 in number, crossed over in safety, made unawares in the morning an attack on the Raja, and blew loudly the trumpets of victory. A few who were around and before the Raja rushed out, bewildered, half asleep and half awake, and most of them became the harvest of the blood-drinking sword, while the rest quickly withdrew themselves from that whirlpool of calamity. In that encounter one of the soldiers came upon the Raja, and wished to finish him with a sword. He called out: “I am the Raja; take me alive to Dilāwar K͟hān.” The men rushed on him and made him prisoner. After the Raja was made prisoner, his people all fled. When Dilāwar K͟hān heard this good news of victory, he prostrated himself in thankfulness to Allah, and, having crossed the river with the victorious army, came to Mandal Badr,[21] which was the capital of the country, and is 3 koss from the river. The daughter[22] of Sangrām Raja of Jammu, and the daughter of the abandoned Sūraj Mal, s. Rāja Bāso, were in the Raja’s house (i.e., married to him). By Sangrām’s daughter he had children. Before the victory he had, by way of caution, sent his family for refuge to the Raja of Jaswāl and other Zamindars. When my victorious retinue approached, Dilāwar K͟hān, according to order, took the Raja with him, and came to kiss the threshold, leaving Naṣru-llah ʿArab with a body of horse and foot to guard the country.