Rulers of India: Akbar

by G. B. Malleson

HUMÁYÚN AND THE EARLY DAYS OF AKBAR

Brave, genial, witty, a charming companion, highly educated, generous, and merciful, Humáyún was even less qualified than his father to found a dynasty on principles which should endure. Allied to his many virtues were many compromising defects. He was volatile, thoughtless, and unsteady. He was swayed by no strong sense of duty. His generosity was apt to degenerate into prodigality; his attachments into weakness. He was unable to concentrate his energies for a time in any serious direction, whilst for comprehensive legislation he had neither the genius nor the inclination. He was thus eminently unfitted to consolidate the conquest his father had bequeathed to him.

It is unnecessary to relate in detail a history of the eight years which followed his accession. So unskilful was his management, and so little did he acquire the confidence and esteem of the races under his sway, that when, in April, 1540, he was defeated at Kanauj, by Sher Khán Sur, a nobleman who had submitted to Bábar, but who had risen against his son—whom he succeeded under the title of Sher Sháh—the entire edifice crumbled in his hand. After some adventures, Humáyún found himself, January, 1541, a fugitive with a mere handful of followers, at Rohri opposite the island of Bukkur on the Indus, in Sind. He had lost the inheritance bequeathed him by his father.

Humáyún spent altogether two and a half years in Sind, engaged in a vain attempt to establish himself in that province. The most memorable event of his sojourn there was the birth, on the 15th of October, 1542, of a son, called by him Jalál-ud-dín Muhammad Akbar. I propose to relate now the incidents which led to a result so important in the history of India.

In 1541, Humáyún, whose troops were engaged in besieging Bukkur, distrusting the designs of his brother Hindal, whom he had commissioned to attack and occupy the rich province of Sehwán, appointed a meeting with the latter at the town of Pátar, some twenty miles to the west of the Indus. There he found Hindal, surrounded by his nobles, prepared to receive him right royally. During the festivities which followed, the mother of Hindal—who, it may be remarked, was not the mother of Humáyún—gave a grand entertainment, to which she invited all the ladies of the court. Amongst these Humáyún especially noted a girl called Hámidá, the daughter of a nobleman who had been preceptor to Hindal. So struck was he that he inquired on the spot whether the girl were betrothed. He was told in reply that, although she had been promised, no ceremony of betrothal had as yet taken place. 'In that case,' said Humáyún, 'I will marry her.' Hindal protested against the suddenly formed resolution, and threatened, if it were persisted in, to quit his brother's service. A quarrel, which had almost ended in a rupture, then ensued between the brothers. But the pleadings of Hindal's mother, who favoured the match, brought Hindal to acquiescence, and, the next day, Hámidá, who had just completed her fourteenth year, was married to Humáyún. A few days later, the happy pair repaired to the camp before Bukkur.

The times, however, were unfavourable to the schemes of Humáyún. All his plans miscarried, and, in the spring of 1542, he and his young wife had to flee for safety to the barren deserts of Marwar. In August they reached Jaisalmer, but, repulsed by its Rájá, they had to cross the great desert, suffering terribly during the journey from want of water. Struggling bravely, however, they reached, on August 22nd, the fort of Amarkót, on the edge of the desert. The Ráná of the fort received them hospitably, and there, on Sunday October the 15th, Hámidá Begam gave birth to Akbar. Humáyún had quitted Amarkót four days previously, to invade the district of Jun. His words, when the news was brought to him, deserve to be recorded. 'As soon,' wrote one who attended him, 'as the Emperor had finished his thanksgivings to God, the Amírs were introduced, and offered their congratulations. He then called Jouher (the historian, author of the Tezkereh al Vakiat) and asked what he had committed to his charge. Jouher answered: "Two hundred Sháh-rukhís" (Khorásání gold coins), a silver wristlet and a musk-bag; adding, that the two former had been returned to their owners. On this Humáyún ordered the musk-bag to be brought, and, having broken it on a china plate, he called his nobles, and divided it among them, as the royal present in honour of his son's birth.... This event,' adds Jouher, 'diffused its fragrance over the whole habitable world.'

The birth of the son brought no immediate good fortune to the father. In July, 1543, Humáyún was compelled to quit Sind, and, accompanied by his wife and son and a small following, set out with the intention of reaching Kandahár. He had arrived at Shál, when he learnt that his brother, Askarí, with a considerable force, was close at hand, and that immediate flight was necessary. He and his wife were ready, but what were they to do with the child, then only a year old, quite unfit to make a rapid journey on horseback, in the boisterous weather then prevailing? Reckoning, not without reason, that the uncle would not make war against a baby, they decided to leave him, with the whole of their camp-equipage and baggage, and the ladies who attended him. They then set out, and riding hard, reached the Persian frontier in safety. Scarcely had they gone when Askarí Mirzá arrived. Veiling his disappointment at the escape of his brother with some soft words, he treated the young prince with affection, had him conveyed to Kandahár, of which place he was Governor, and placed there under the supreme charge of his own wife, the ladies who had been his nurses still remaining in attendance.

In this careful custody the young prince remained during the whole of the year 1544. But soon after the dawn of the following year a change in his condition occurred. His father, with the aid of troops supplied him by Sháh Tahmásp, invaded Western Afghánistán, making straight across the desert for Kandahár. Alarmed at this movement, and dreading lest Humáyún should recover his child, Kámrán sent peremptory orders that the boy should be transferred to Kábul. When the confidential officers whom Kámrán had instructed on this subject reached Kandahár, the ministers of Askarí Mirzá held a council to consider whether or not the demand should be complied with. Some, believing the star of Humáyún to be in the ascendant, advised that the boy should be sent, under honourable escort, to his father. Others maintained that Prince Askarí had acted so treacherously towards his eldest brother that no act of penitence would now avail, and that it was better to continue to deserve the favour of Kámrán. The arguments of the latter prevailed, and though the winter was unusually severe, the infant prince and his sister, Bakhshí Bánu Begam, were despatched with their attendants to Kábul. After some adventures, which made the escort apprehend an attempt at rescue, the party reached Kábul in safety, and there Kámrán confided his nephew to the care of his great-aunt, Khánzáda Begam, the whilom favourite sister of the Emperor Bábar. This illustrious lady maintained in their duties the nurses and attendants who had watched over the early days of the young prince, and during the short time of her superintendence she bestowed upon him the tenderest care. Unhappily that superintendence lasted only a few months. The capture of Kandahár by Humáyún in the month of September following (1545) threw Kámrán into a state of great perplexity. A suspicious and jealous man, and regarding the possession of Akbar as a talisman he could use against Humáyún, he removed the boy from the care of his grand-aunt, and confided him to a trusted adherent, Kuch Kilán by name. But events marched very quickly in those days. Humáyún, having established a firm base at Kandahár, set out with an army for Kábul, appeared before that city the first week in November, and compelled it to surrender to him on the 15th. Kámrán had escaped to Ghazní: but the happy father had the gratification of finding the son from whom he had been so long separated. The boy's mother, Hámidá Begam, did not arrive till the spring of the following year, but, meanwhile, Kuch Kilán was removed, and the prince's former governor, known as Atká Khán,¹ was restored to his post.

¹ His real name was Shams-ud-dín Muhammad of Ghazní. He had saved the life of Humáyún in 1540, at the battle of Kanauj, fought against Sher Sháh.