Thus, at the accession of Akbar, the westernmost portion of India, the kingdom of Gujarát, ruled over by a Muhammadan prince of Afghán blood, was independent. It had been overrun, indeed, by Humáyún, but on his flight from India it had re-asserted itself, and had not since been molested. Indeed it had carried on a not unsuccessful war with its nearest neighbour, Málwá. That state, embracing the greater part of what we know as Central India, was thus independent at the accession of Akbar. So likewise was Khándesh: so also were the states of Rájpútána. These latter deserve a more detailed notice.
The exploits of the great Sanga Ráná have been incidentally referred to in the first chapter. The defeat of that prince by Bábar had greatly affected the power of Mewár, and when Sher Sháh drove Humáyún from India its chiefs had been compelled eventually to acknowledge the overlordship of the conqueror. But, during the disturbances which followed the death of Sher Sháh, they had recovered their independence, and at the accession of Akbar they still held their high place among the states of Rájpútána. Of the other states it may briefly be stated that the rulers of Jaipur had paid homage to the Mughal in the time of Bábar. The then Rájá, Bahármá, had assisted that prince with his forces, and had received from Humáyún, prior to his defeat by Sher Sháh, a high imperial title as ruler of Ámbar. The son of Bahármá, Bhagwán Dás, occupied the throne when Akbar won Pánípat. Jodhpur, in those days, occupied a far higher position than did Jaipur. Its Rájá, Maldeo Singh, had given to the great Sher Sháh more trouble in the field than had any of his opponents. He had, however, refused an asylum to Humáyún when Humáyún was a fugitive. He was alive, independent, and the most powerful of all the princes of Rájpútána when Akbar ascended the throne of Delhi. Jaisalmer, Bíkáner, and the states on the borders of the desert were also independent. So likewise were the minor states of Rájpútána; so also was Sind; so also Múltán. Mewát and Baghelkhand owned no foreign master; but Gwalior, Orchha, Chanderí, Narwár, and Pannao suffered from their vicinity to Agra, and were more or less tributary, according to the leisure accruing to the conqueror to assert his authority.
But even in the provinces which owned the rule of the Muhammadan conqueror there was no cohesion. The king, sultan, or emperor, as he was variously called, was simply the lord of the nobles to whom the several provinces had been assigned. In his own court he ruled absolutely. He commanded the army in the field. But with the internal administration of the provinces he did not interfere. Each of these provinces was really, though not nominally, independent under its own viceroy.
According to all concurrent testimony the condition of the Hindu population, who constituted seven-eighths of the entire population of the provinces subject to Muhammadan rule, was one of contentment. They were allowed the free exercise of their religion, though they were liable to the jizyia or capitation tax, imposed by Muhammadans on subject races of other faiths. But in all the departments of the Government the Hindu element was very strong. In most provinces the higher classes of this faith maintained a hereditary jurisdiction subordinate to the governor; and in time of war they supplied their quota of troops for service in the field.
Each province had thus a local army, ready to be placed at the disposal of the governor whenever he should deem it necessary. But, besides, and unconnected with this local army, he had almost always in the province a certain number of imperial troops, that is, of troops paid by the Sultán, and the command of which was vested in an officer nominated by the Sultán. This officer was, to a great extent, independent of the local governor, being directly responsible to the sovereign.
Theoretically, the administration of justice was perfect, for it was dispensed according to the Muhammadan principle that the state was dependent on the law. That law was administered by the Kázís or judges in conformity with a code which was the result of accumulated decisions based on the Kurán, but modified by the customs of the country. The Kází decided all matters of a civil character; all questions, in fact, which did not affect the safety of the state. But criminal cases were reserved to the jurisdiction of a body of men whose mode of procedure was practically undefined, and who, nominated and supported by the Crown, sometimes trenched on the authority of the Kází. The general contentment of the people would seem, however, to authorise the conclusion that, on the whole, the administration of justice was performed in a satisfactory manner. Time had welded together the interests of the families of the earlier Muhammadan immigrant and those of the Hindu inhabitant, and they both looked alike to the law to afford them such protection as was possible. In spite of the many wars, the general condition of the country was undoubtedly, if the native records may be trusted, very flourishing.
It is important to note, in considering the administration upon which we are now entering, that neither Bábar nor Humáyún had changed, to any material extent, the system of their Afghán predecessors in India. Bábar, indeed, had been accustomed to a system even more autocratic. Whether in Fergháná, in Samarkand, or in Kábul, he had not only been the supreme lord in the capital, but also the feudal lord of the governors of provinces appointed by himself. Those governors, those chiefs of districts or of jaghírs, did indeed exercise an authority almost absolute within their respective domains. But they were always removable at the pleasure of the sovereign, and it became an object with them to administer on a plan which would secure substantial justice, or to maintain at the court agents who should watch over their interests with the ruling prince.
Similarly the army was composed of the personal retainers of the sovereign, swollen by the personal retainers of his chiefs and vassals and by the native tribes of the provinces occupied.