It turned out, however, that the Kizilbásh army, supported by the sháh’s body-guard, resolved on attacking the commanding general’s camp, which, they supposed, was left without any to defend it. But these dogs were met by a body of janissaries, salihdárs, and others, who stood ready to receive them, and who, with their arrows and small arms, drove them back. The contest, however, was obstinate, and maintained till sun-set, when the despicable wretches, after seeing many of their number wounded and perishing on the field of battle, fled back to their encampments. But Sefer Páshá, who was returning from the scene where he had performed so many and such wonderful exploits, met this horde as they were flying from the face of the Moslems, who had opposed and repulsed them just a little before, and fell upon him and his heroic followers. He and his party, of course, were much fatigued by their late exertions, which had been crowned with the most singular success; whilst the enemy, who thus attacked them, were comparatively fresh, and consequently it was not to be wondered at if they declined accepting a battle. This they did not altogether avoid, though a number of them, among whom was Tekelí Páshá, Jelalí Karah Kásh Páshá, and Kechkár Páshá, with their respective followers, fled to the camp and escaped; whilst their companions fought till they fell martyrs on the field. In this bloody contest, Sefer Páshá, the hero of the party, and whose weapon nothing could resist, was at last wounded, and shortly afterwards his horse fell with him. Some of the Kizilbáshes seized him and several other wounded veterans, and dragged them before the sháh, who ordered some of them to be killed, and to reserve the others. To Sefer Páshá he said, “if you will submit to me, and join our sect (i.e. the sect of Alí), I shall confer honour upon you.” The firm Moslem replied, by wishing “a thousand curses to fall upon him and upon every heretic of his sect.” The prisoner, who was bound to a stake, and exhibited to the view of the multitude, loaded the heretical sháh with every species of reproach and contumely, when immediately some of the vagabond red-heads rushed upon him and slew him. Thus ended this brave man. It is true that the commanding officer sent more than once to dissuade him and his rash companions from their precipitate measures, but it is also true that Sefer Páshá, though a very brave man, was yet very obstinate and contumacious. Karah Kásh, and some others of his desperate followers, disregarding all subordination, resolved on being revenged on their enemies.
It is remarkable, and indeed it is one of the inscrutable ways of Providence, that those who fell in these various skirmishes were for the most part those levends or volunteers who had been very lately engaged in rebellion against the Ottomans. It rarely happened, throughout the whole of these struggles, that any of the sworn and paid troops fell. The Moslem army, generally, suffered no injury. But these levends, in God’s distribution of justice, were made to expiate their former crimes and villany by making them wash their filth in this bloody fountain.—But to return.
The carnage to which we have above alluded was put a stop to by the return of night, when the contending parties were under the necessity of retiring. The Kizilbáshes, however, retreated, but the commander-in-chief maintained his ground, or at least he remained where he was (for it does not appear that he had any personal share in the actions which had taken place). During the night season the chiefs and nobles of Kúrdistán came to wait on the commander-in-chief, with the view of consulting with him as to the circumstances in which they were then placed, and of the probable result of their movements and operations; but they were refused admittance, and were told that the commanding general was fatigued and could not see them. The chiefs returned to their own camp; but it soon began to be circulated that the commanding general had fled, and therefore the Kurds, when they heard this, struck their tents, and were on the eve of retiring, when Karah Kásh struck his tents also. The rest of these auxiliary native troops followed the example set before them, and the whole body of them set out for Wán. Jánbulát Zádeh Hasan Páshá, beglerbeg of Aleppo, was returning from the field of battle, where he had also been engaged the day before, when he met these fugitives, who informed him, though falsely, that the power of the commander-in-chief was completely broken. Believing that what they had assured him of was true, he returned; but learning afterwards that he had been deceived by them, he directed his steps towards the Moslem camp. To prevent, if possible, these fugitives occasioning any loss to the Moslem army, he from these disinterested views changed his mind, joined them, and went to Wán along with them.
The commander-in-chief collected, in the meantime, the whole of the troops who had remained with him in the camp, gave them all the cheering encouragement he was able, put them in regular order, and led them to the outside of the camp. On turning his eye towards the place which the enemy had occupied the day before, he could perceive no movement whatever that indicated their presence there. Whilst he and his army stood in amazement, and wondering what the result of so unexpected an occurrence might be, they were summoned to activity by Kechkár Páshá, beglerbeg of Wán, who asked them to what purpose they were standing and gazing; when immediately the report, that the Kizilbáshes had come and taken away their cannon, was sounded. Their consternation increased, and they were unable to look at one another. Several of them fled. Of the whole of the army which the commander brought into the field, only two thousand household troops remained to him. Such of these as were foot-soldiers he mounted on camels, and in a short time, the commander and his remaining two thousand men were also on the way to Wán; having left nearly the whole of his camp, guns, and treasures behind him.
The sháh of Persia, thinking it was very probable, however, that the Osmánlís by their sudden disappearance, and by the relinquishing of their camp-ground, had laid a stratagem for him, kept aloof for two days, and was afraid to enter: but at the end of this period he received certain intelligence, that the commander had actually fled to Wán, and he then ventured to visit the place where the Osmánlí camp had stood. With the exception of a few hired servants and some trifling articles, which had been left, the sháh found nothing to reward him for his trouble.
After the commander-in-chief had reached Wán, Jánbulát Zádeh Hasan Páshá waited upon him and told him how he had acted in keeping the troops who had fled from his camp together; how he had brought them to a place of safety, and offered every apology which the circumstance of the case seemed to have demanded: thinking, no doubt, that the commander would express his approbation of his conduct. He was much mistaken. The commander was not made of such material as to be moved by a flood of tears and expressions of humiliation and contrition. Calling him, therefore, to account for his dereliction of duty he made him answer for it with his life.
It has been related of Jánbulát Zádeh that he was advised by his friends, when he purposed to wait on the commander-in-chief, not to do so, because of the ill fortune his stars had predicted at his birth, and which he himself, from his own profound knowledge in the science of astrology, had clearly demonstrated to them. His friends succeeded, in the first instance, in preserving him from having any interview with the short-tailed dragons;[19] but his lofty feeling of pride ruined him. “If I sleep,” said he, in the pride of his heart, “Jeghala Oghlí (the commander-in-chief) will not certainly have the courage to watch.” His pride brought him to his end. His death was the means of awakening in the minds of the troops, a feeling of great dissatisfaction. Thirty thousand of his troops or followers returned to Haleb, having chosen his brother, Alí Beg, and Hezer Beg as their commanders, and who, in revenge of Hasan Páshá, son of Jánbulát’s, death, desolated that province, and continued their rebellion till they were overthrown by the celebrated Murád Páshá at a later period, as we shall relate in its proper place.
The commander-in-chief, the sport of fortune, left Wán and returned to Diárbeker on the 21st of Dhu’l hijja, where he died of a fever which the thoughts of his misfortunes had occasioned. He was a man whose avarice had no bounds. His constantly causing responsible persons to be changed from one place to another was productive of the most serious evils. He conferred the government of Syria on Sinán Páshá Zádeh, and shortly afterwards on Osmán Páshá. Nesúh Páshá, who was válí of Aleppo, he removed, and put Hasan Páshá, son of Jánbulát of the sanják of Kilis, into his place, on the promise of his paying him a certain rent. And many more are the evils he occasioned, besides those we have mentioned.