Legendary & romantic tales of Indian history

by Hobart Caunter

“A man does not seek the instruments of authority but to employ them. When princes lay themselves out for popularity they intend to make the mob their tools, and the citizens their stepping-stones to dominion. He who has once deceived is never to be trusted; and I can too well discover that, under the smiles of allegiance which so frequently play upon the features of Prince Churrum in his father’s presence, hypocrisy lurks like the serpent in a bed of flowers.”

After a while Jehangire was convinced by the arguments of the Sultana of his son’s evil designs, which an account of Chusero’s death soon confirmed. He was enraged at such a sanguinary act of ambition, and determined to punish the fratricide. In order to obviate the stigma which he knew would be attached to the crime of murdering a brother, the crafty prince affected such extreme grief, that he was believed by many to be innocent of so atrocious an offence. Jehangire, however, or rather his Empress, was not to be deceived by this barefaced hypocrisy: the former wrote him a letter, accusing him of the crime; at the same time ordering the body of his murdered son to be disinterred; it was brought to the capital, and buried with the honours due to his rank.

Although Prince Churrum was married to a niece of Noor Jehan the hostility between him and the Empress had risen to such a height that it was perfectly implacable. The rebellious prince well knew that he owed the indignation of his parent to her influence; he therefore resolved to lose no time in endeavouring to get her into his power. Seeing no probability of a reconciliation with his father, he determined to continue in his rebellion.

At the suggestion of his consort, Jehangire prepared to reduce his son to obedience; but his troops being at a distance, he could not bring an army into the field. At this critical juncture, a courier arrived from Mohabet Chan, the imperial general, stating that he was advancing, with all the forces of the Punjab, to join the royal army. Shortly after, the troops of Jehangire engaged the rebels and entirely defeated them. The refractory prince was so overcome by this unexpected reverse of fortune, that he meditated suicide. The paroxysm, however, passed, and he fled to the mountains of Mewat, where he found for the moment a secure refuge from the anger of his father and the hostility of Noor Jehan. Misfortune followed him: his party was defeated in Guzerat. Still the royal rebel was so formidable, that it was resolved to take him alive, as the only means of extinguishing the flames of civil war, always disastrous to the victors as well as to the vanquished. Mohabet Chan was therefore despatched, at the head of a large detachment of Rajpoots, a race of soldiers proverbially brave, to capture the royal insurgent. Churrum, in consequence, quitted his retreat, determined to face the danger and try the chance of another battle. Crossing the river Nerbudda, in the province of Malwa, he threw up works to defend the ford. Of the large and well-appointed army which had followed him into the Deccan there remained only a small dispirited remnant, and desertions were daily thinning his lines. He had no reliance upon the soldiers, dejected from successive defeats, and murmuring for their arrears of pay, which he was unable to provide. He lost his energy, became incautious and irresolute, and allowed himself to be surprised by the imperial general, who routed his disheartened forces with great slaughter, and forced him again to seek refuge in the hills. He soon, however, passed through Golconda, and took the route to Bengal.

His escape was a source of severe mortification to the Sultana, who foresaw that the repose of the state was not likely to be secured until he should either be taken or destroyed. She was besides anxious that the succession should be fixed upon Shariar, the fourth son of Jehangire, who had married the daughter whom she had borne to Shere Afkun. By her representations, no doubt in the main just, the Emperor’s enmity towards his son was kept alive; of which the latter being aware, saw that it would not be prudent to trust himself within the walls of his father’s capital. He had more than once thought of throwing himself upon the paternal clemency; but his knowledge of the Sultana’s vindictive spirit, and the consciousness of his own manifold derelictions, kept him from running the risk of captivity for life, if not of undergoing extreme punishment.

His affairs, however, now began to assume a more favourable aspect. Having invested the fort of Tellia Gurri, in Bengal, with a new army which he had raised in that province, after an obstinate defence by the garrison, he succeeded in carrying the place by storm. This unexpected success animated him to new exertions. He now overran the whole district, which shortly submitted to his arms. He reduced Dacca, a considerable city, and once the capital of Bengal, in which he found an immense treasure in gold and silver, besides jewels and warlike stores. The Suba was deposed, and a new governor raised, who ruled in the name of Shah Jehan, by which title Prince Churrum finally ascended the imperial throne.

No sooner had he settled the government of Bengal, than he turned his thoughts to the neighbouring province of Bahar. The governor fled at his approach; but the wealthy zemindars crowded to his camp to offer him their allegiance. He accepted their submission, together with the rich presents which they brought to ratify the mutual compact of protection and affiance, and to confirm their sincerity. But the most important occurrence, and which greatly tended to strengthen him in his new conquests, was the unexpected submission of Mubarick, governor of the fort of Rhotas, who came to his camp, presented him the keys, and made a vow of perpetual fealty. This fortress was considered unimpregnable. It had never been taken by force, and was therefore looked upon by the rebellious prince as a place of security for his family. Here he immediately removed them; and being now relieved from immediate anxiety on their account, he was better prepared to encounter the dangers of the field, and to brave the vicissitudes of fortune.

This uninterrupted current of success inflamed the pride of the royal rebel, and he fancied himself in a condition to contend for the imperial sceptre with that army which had already twice so signally defeated him. Mohabet Chan had again taken the field, and marched as far as Benares, on the banks of the Ganges, to chastise the insurgents, who mustered upwards of forty thousand horse,—a force scarcely inferior to the imperialists in number,—and were drawn up on the bank of a small stream.

The battle was desperate, but decisive. The rebels were routed after a prodigious slaughter. The conduct of Prince Churrum on this occasion was marked by reckless bravery. Plunging into the thickest of the fight with five hundred horse, who had resolved to devote themselves to death with their leader, he maintained a sanguinary struggle against immense odds, and would, no doubt, have fallen a victim to his despair, had not some of his officers seized the reins of his charger, and forced him from the battle to a place of security. He fled to the fort of Rhotas, where he had left his family. The plunder of his camp, which contained the spoils of Dacca, saved him from immediate pursuit.

Leaving his family in the fortress, where he imagined they would be secure, the wretched prince collected the scattered remains of his army, and threw himself into Patna, which he determined to defend, but thought it prudent to evacuate the city at the approach of his enemies. He fled through Bengal towards the Deccan. The provinces which he had so lately conquered fell again under the legitimate authority. When Mohabet had settled the government of these districts, he marched after the royal fugitive.