Though his fortunes were reduced to so low an ebb, the prince did not despond. His mind was active, and these severe reverses only seemed to animate him to new enterprises. He attached to his desperate fortunes the Rajah of Ambere, who entertained some cause of enmity towards Jehangire. Strengthened by the forces of this new ally, he reduced the city of Boorhampoor; when the imperial army arriving, forced him to raise the siege and take shelter in the mountains of Ballagat. In his retreat he made an attempt upon a strong fortress on the frontiers of Kandeish, where he was repulsed with considerable loss.

This completed his ruin. His nobles no longer followed him; and the troops, under the sanction of their example, deserted his standard. A thousand horse only remained. “His spirits sank within him; his misfortunes oppressed him, his guilt and folly were always present to his mind. Sickness was added to his other miseries. He was hunted like a wild beast from place to place; all mankind were his enemies—he was their foe. Where he thought he could not overcome, he fled; he spread devastation through places where he could prevail. He was, however, tired of rapine. Worn down by contention and hostility, he wrote letters of compunction to his father: he enlarged on his own guilt,—he even added, if possible, to his own wretchedness and misfortune. Jehangire was often full of affection—he was always weak: and he was shocked at the miserable condition of a son whom he had once loved; his tears fell upon the part of that son’s letter which mentioned guilt, and his crimes vanished from memory.

“In the midst of this returning softness, Jehangire was not altogether void of policy. He wrote to his son, that if he would give orders to the governors of Rhotas, of Azere, and other places which were still held out in his name, to deliver up their forts, and send his three sons, Dara, Aurungzebe, and Murad, to court, he would be forgiven for his past crimes. Churrum embraced the offer with joy; he delivered up the forts and sent his children to Agra. He, however, found various pretences for not appearing in person at court. He alleged that he was ashamed to see a father whom he had so much injured; but he was actually afraid of the machinations of the Sultana. He made excursions, under a pretence of pleasure, through all parts of the empire, attended by five hundred horse. He was sometimes heard of at Ajmere, sometimes at Tatta on the Indus, and again in the Deccan.”[37] Such was the termination of this formidable rebellion, the suppression of which Jehangire entirely owed to the vigilance and foresight of his Empress, Noor Jehan. This remarkable woman was ever conspicuous amid the great stir of the times; and in every action of her life she displayed that predominancy of mind which had distinguished her even before her exaltation to the imperial sceptre, which she may be said to have wielded,—for though it appeared in the hand of her husband, she gave strength to the grasp by which he held it, and imparted stability to his throne.

CHAPTER VII.

Among the extraordinary occurrences of Noor Jehan’s life, perhaps there is none that more forcibly developes her character than her bearing towards Mohabet Chan, after the signal services which he had rendered the state by suppressing the rebellion of Prince Churrum. The eminent abilities displayed by Mohabet during his command of the imperial armies had won for him the confidence of his master and of the Empress; and this confidence was increased by his suppression of the most formidable rebellion which disturbed the reign of Jehangire. His family was raised to offices of trust in the state, and the Emperor treated him with a distinction that excited the envy of the nobles. But the gratitude of princes has ever been a questionable virtue; their suspicions are readily excited, and there are never wanting engines to set those suspicions at work.

The Sultana soon became apprehensive of Mohabet’s influence with the Emperor; and therefore, to abridge it, put in operation the active energies of her mind. Jehangire was naturally a credulous man, and the rebellion of his son had rendered him suspicious. The virtues of his general ought to have placed him above the petty surmises suggested by envy; but his abilities had raised him enemies at court, and his master wanted firmness to repel the insinuations levelled against the man who had been the main prop of his throne. Mohabet soon perceived a change in his sovereign’s feelings; but, conscious of his own integrity, he was at no pains to remove the prejudices excited against him. He was conscious that he owed much of the growing coldness evident in the Emperor’s manner towards him to the misrepresentations of Noor Jehan; and thence grew a strong and mutual antipathy, which had nearly proved the means of transferring the empire from the house of Timur to another dynasty.

The immediate cause of that open rupture which ensued, and had nearly cost Jehangire his crown, was an accusation made to the Sultana by a noble that Mohabet had sanctioned his son’s death, which the father expressed himself determined to avenge. He further stated that the general entertained a design of raising his sovereign’s second son to the throne. This was reported to the Emperor; it immediately excited his fears, and he listened with weak credulity to a charge of treason against his general. Blinded by his terrors, he forgot the services which that great and good man had rendered to the state, and weakly listened to the voice of his slanderers.

Mohabet, who was at this time in Bengal, received his master’s imperative orders to repair immediately to the capital. As he did not instantly obey, he received a second summons, still more peremptory, accompanied with such manifestations of displeasure, that he could no longer mistake the danger of his situation. Although surprised at this total change of good feeling towards him, yet having really done nothing justly to excite his sovereign’s displeasure, he resolved to obey the mandate at all hazards, but to take every necessary precaution against his enemies, whether secret or open. When, however, he reflected upon the unworthy requital he had received for his services, indignation and disgust overbore his first resolution, and he came to the determination of retiring to a castle of which he had some time before been appointed governor; but, to his astonishment, he found that an order had been received at the fortress to deliver it up to a person whom the Sultana had appointed to take immediate possession. This unjustifiable act of tyranny convinced him of what some of his friends at court had already apprised him, that his life was in danger from the secret machinations of his foes; he determined therefore not to put himself in their power before he had at least made some effort to ascertain the extent of his peril.

He wrote to the Emperor, expressing surprise at his hostility towards an unoffending subject, and declaring that, though he had the greatest confidence in the honour of his sovereign, he had none in that of his evil counsellors. The only reply which he received to this temperate expostulation was an order, still more peremptory than those already sent, to appear at court without further delay. To refuse was to rebel; he therefore addressed another letter to his imperial master. In it he said, “I will serve my sovereign with my life against his enemies; but I will not expose it to the malice of his friends. Assure me of safety, and I will clear myself in your presence.”

This letter was construed by the Sultana, who directed all the Emperor’s measures, into an indignity. Jehangire was angry, and despatched a messenger, summoning Mohabet, in very reproachful terms, to appear before him. The general prepared to obey; but took the precaution of going with an escort of five thousand Rajpoots in the imperial pay, who had long served under him, and were devoted to their commander. With this guard of faithful soldiers he proceeded towards Lahore, where the sovereign at that time held his court.