Chapter XVI

And shall a king, of nature uncontrolled,
And spirit lofty as his state, submit
To such degrading check? Impossible!
He must and will resent it.--Pray proceed.

HINDOO DRAMA.

Much as the parental heart of Jehangire was afflicted by the obstinacy of Chusero, in prolonging a civil war that now seemed more unlikely than ever to favour his designs of usurpation, still the necessity of an expedition to Cashmere presented some visions to the emperor’s mind, which were not without their charms. He had heard and read many panegyrics upon the agreeable climate, the combinations of mountain, valley, forest, and stream, which gave peculiar features, and ever-varying beauty to its natural scenery. He had, from his earliest youth, filled his memory with the legends and traditions which spoke of its ancient ages of renown. He was conversant with every thing his favourite poets had written in praise of its flowers and nightingales, and above all, of the exquisite forms and irresistible attractions of the maidens, who inhaled the pure and fragrant air of those green declivities, while chasing the blue butterfly until their cheeks took the blush of their native rose,--one of the wonders of the world.

Jehangire had often pictured to himself the pleasures he should enjoy, when relaxing from the cares of empire, he might be at leisure to wander idly through the groves and saffron-meadows, and pore over the transparent fountains, of Cashmere. It was, to his fancy, a world set apart from the busy scenes of life, in which he might altogether divest himself of the weight and emblems of sovereign authority, and subsiding to the level of the shepherd and the mountaineer, enjoy those emotions of independence and happiness which nature loves to bestow upon those, who worship her amidst the solitudes she has peculiarly consecrated to her own immortal presence.

Nor was he without the hope--the illusion, perhaps, but still one it pleased him to indulge--that some happy accident might enable him to behold once more his son--his rebellious, criminal, and unrepentant boy--to win him from the unhappy path, on which he had too long delayed--to forgive him all that had passed--to press him to his breast, and kindle in his eyes those well-known smiles, so dear to a parent--so powerful to subdue every feeling of resentment.

No man was less fitted than Jehangire to maintain these continued struggles between the duties of the sovereign, and the impulses of the father. The fluctuations between the two characters, though occasionally terminating on the side of stern justice, preponderated in the main, in favour of those feelings, which not even gross filial ingratitude can often eradicate from the parental bosom.

Did Jehangire endeavour to conceal from himself, that whatever there was of tenderness in the composition of his character--and it is not to be denied that he had his share--whatever there was in his mental constitution, which rendered him susceptible of the influence of poetry, of beautiful scenery, and made him a listener to the mystic voices that breathe from the recesses of woods, the undulations of ever-flowing waters, the airy invisible multitudes of insects and choirs of birds exulting in the felicity of existence--opened out like the parched flower, expanding to receive the dews of evening, when he reflected that Cashmere now contained another treasure, more precious to his soul than a hundred diadems?

“Nourmahal!” What raptures were linked in his mind with that sweet name! To pronounce it in secret to his own ear, was to summon to his cheek the very elements of life--to turn him away and detain him, hour after hour, in the silence and solitude of the night, from all other thoughts.

Strange to say, Jehangire, though he had abundant cause for complaint against the political conduct of Afkun, never entertained towards that distinguished person the slightest feeling of hostility. He never, for a moment, apprehended that the Turcomanian possessed, or could gain the affections of Nourmahal, although her legal protector. The relation in which he stood towards her, invested him, in the contemplation of the emperor, with a character rather parental than conjugal--and, as such, estimable on account of its connexion with her preservation, for what, he hoped, to be her future and higher destinies. He, therefore, heard with deep pain from Auzeem, of the many base schemes by which Bochari had attempted to get rid of that great warrior; and it was amongst his hopes, that, if the expedition to Cashmere should be prosecuted with success, he might enjoy the opportunity of making some arrangement with Afkun, by which the ties subsisting between him and Nourmahal, should be dissolved, without injury to the warrior’s pride, or to the respect which the monarch, more than any of his subjects, was bound to shew to the laws of the empire.

To Bochari, Jehangire had not lately ventured to breathe a syllable about Nourmahal. The hatred which embittered every expression of that functionary, whenever he had to make mention of Afkun, since the period of their personal encounter in the Sutledge, was so implacable, that to speak to him of the one, was only to draw from him a volley of imprecations as to the other. To Auzeem, however, the emperor did not hesitate to disclose his most intimate thoughts on all subjects, especially when shut up together in his private cabinet, whether in the camp, or in the palace at Lahore, they smoked the chibouque, or indulged in an extra cup of wine.

It was already perceptible to many persons about the court, that the influence of Auzeem, in the direction of public affairs, began to assume a defined character, since the commencement of the civil war. The title of “My Uncle,” by which Jehangire had always distinguished him, more in the familiarity of mirth, than from any acknowledgment of particular esteem, lately seemed, in the opinion of shrewd observers, to wear a new and more important meaning. Auzeem was not the last to be sensible of his position. His knowledge of mankind, his acquaintance with the habits of sovereigns and princes in different countries, and a cheerfulness of disposition, which taught him at all times to look at the sunny side of things, enabled him to accommodate himself to the eccentricities and whims of the emperor, without incurring the charge of pandering to his vices, or even of encouraging them. In his laugh and his jest there was always a limit, beyond which the respect he felt for himself never permitted him to go. He was not ambitious. He detested intrigue, cabals, and machinations of every description, whatever the purpose which they contemplated. He looked upon all such courses as the unequivocal characteristics of that mean order of intelligence, which, whenever it happens to obtain the ascendancy in states, never fails, however specious its occasional triumphs, to draw after it national calamity and degradation.

Jehangire found himself, without intending it, gradually approximating every day towards Auzeem, and, in the same proportion, diverging from the path which Bochari had hitherto been accustomed to mark out for him. The coarseness of language and of manner, the impatience of contradiction, and the jealousy of supreme control, which on every occasion, whether of slight or primary importance, characterised the Persian, were of such common occurrence, that before his accession to the throne the prince never stopped to analyse or question them. But after he put on the crown, he more than once felt that the authority belonging to his station was restrained by a will not his own. This feeling touched his pride, and broke in upon the inveteracy of habit; and although the labour of emancipating himself from the domination to which he was so long subject, deterred him from resolving on any material change, yet the idea occurred to him that if a change were to be made, there was no person in whom he would more willingly repose his confidence than Auzeem.

The latter was not ignorant of the emperor’s prepossession respecting Nourmahal. To his ear were divulged, through some channel or another, those secrets of the imperial harem, which, strengthened by his own keen observation, enabled him to judge that a void existed in that establishment, not easy to be filled up. The favourite of a former day complained of the emperor’s indifference--of his abstraction--the long intervals between his visits to a region which had been accustomed to his particular attention. There was no recognised sultana. The consorts of the sovereign appeared to be all upon an equality, much more mortifying to their pride than a recognised scale of rank. Where each had as shadowy a right as the other to deem herself preferred, jealousy became more active, and converted the harem into a theatre of discord.

Auzeem, it may be supposed, was no admirer of Bochari. Still he did not wish to make a man accidentally invested with so much power, his enemy. His mind was the reverse in all things of that of the Persian. But his experience rendered him circumspect, and taught him to avoid collision with that dangerous adventurer. Whenever he had occasion to differ from him in the council, he expressed his opinions mildly--and in the shape of interrogatory, as if he were seeking for information and advice, rather than giving both. Thus he had the good fortune to add every hour to his rising influence with the emperor, without awakening the suspicions of the commander-in-chief. To military science or experience Auzeem avowed no claim. On civil matters he might sometimes have an opinion--which, however, he had no desire to press, or even to shape for discussion, unless it seemed to others, better qualified than himself to judge, worth attention.

Like Jehangire, Auzeem had a strong turn for literature and the fine arts. It was the emperor’s habit, when a sleep of an hour or two dispelled the effects of his indulgence at the table, to pass a part of the night in reading, or in having read to him, portions of the history of his empire, or of the works of the most celebrated poets, and not unfrequently of the theologians and philosophers, with whose writings he was remarkably conversant. Auzeem was often his only companion during those periods of study, which no pressure of public business was ever allowed to disturb. The uncle and the nephew, if they may be so described, also resembled each other in a turn for adventure; and when, after a poem or a tale was concluded, they discussed the incidents and characters of which it was composed, they often went on to dramatise situations similar to those of which they had just read, and wove a series of enterprizes and escapes, to which each contributed a sequel, until they believed themselves to be altogether transferred to the world of imagination.

It was in moods such as these, perhaps, that Auzeem learned the whole extent of the passion nurtured in Jehangire’s bosom for Nourmahal. He saw that it was a real, unsophisticated, fervent feeling, cherished as a sacred treasure, subject to no caprice, the same when the emperor’s mind was agitated, as when reposing in the most serene tranquillity. The difficulties which stood in the way of his desires, tended, no doubt, to augment the power which this passion exercised over his soul. To conquer those difficulties--but at the same time to preserve a strict and impartial observance of the laws relating to the union between the sexes, which, in all our communities, whether Mahometan or Hindoo, are universally held as dear to us as our lives, was the frequent object of his conferences with Auzeem, from the moment that the expedition to Cashmere was resolved upon.

It seemed essential, for many reasons, that the troops selected for that purpose should proceed upon their march without delay. The legion which the province had already sent to the war having been annihilated, it became expedient, if practicable, to prevent the subah from gaining time to form another. While the war lingered in any quarter of the empire, it afforded a pretext to the disaffected in the other districts, for questioning the authority by which the imposts were levied, and for committing various acts of insubordination. As soon, therefore, as the emperor believed Lahore to be secure from any danger of a fresh insurrection, and that he had succeeded in purchasing, by his kindness to all the inhabitants, and his largesses to the persons who seemed to possess most influence over them, that general good-will upon which it was his highest ambition to rest the foundations of his throne, he gave orders for the usual consultation of the astrologers. The auspicious hour having been ascertained, the troops, consisting chiefly of light cavalry and light artillery, fitted for mountain warfare, setting out at the prescribed moment, proceeded on their route towards Cashmere.

Bochari was fully apprised, from the information of officers who had already served in that province, of the vast strength of the castle occupied by Afkun. A small garrison, he learned, was sufficient to defend it against any force that could be brought to bear upon it. Raised upon an elevated platform, girdled by a natural rampart of rock, to which hardly any artificial additions were necessary, completely insulated by a deep moat filled with water, containing within itself ample resources in wells, in granaries for every kind of supplies, in woods and gardens,--in short, every thing conducive not only to subsistence, but to the convenience of life, such a fortress seemed capable of defying every ordinary resource of war.

Finding it, therefore, necessary to avail himself of such other means of success as circumstances might render expedient, Bochari conceived the design of summoning Kazim Ayas and the mother of Nourmahal to the presence of the emperor, with a view to treat them as hostages, to be dealt with as he might decide, in case the Turcomanian’s stronghold should turn out to be otherwise unassailable.

If Nourmahal possessed the power over her husband with which her fascinations, so much talked of, were supposed to invest her, she would not, he thought, refuse to apply it for the preservation of those so dear to her, should their lives be fixed upon as a price for the surrender of the castle.

This design, worthy of his character, he took care to conceal from the knowledge of the emperor. To him Bochari represented the difficulties that might present themselves in the capture of the strongest fortress of the empire; adding that it might therefore be useful to send for Kazim Ayas and Mangeli, in order that they might, as they were bound to do, by the high office which the chancellor held, and by their allegiance, and gratitude for many honours conferred upon them, exert their best influence with their son-in-law to induce him to acknowledge the authority of the rightful sovereign, and to give up the rebellious Chusero.

The plan, placed in the latter point of view, coincided so agreeably with the emperor’s projects in other respects, that he felt no hesitation in assenting to it. Letters were in consequence forthwith despatched to Agra, commanding Kazim and Mangeli to follow the emperor without delay to Cashmere, and authorising the chancellor to delegate the duties of his office, during his absence, to a commissioner named by himself for that purpose. The parents of Nourmahal received the mandate with feelings of unqualified delight. The hope of soon again embracing their child, put aside all thoughts of the inconvenience of so long a journey, and Kazim, moreover, flattered himself with the expectation that, through his interference, Afkun might be dissuaded from pursuing any farther a line of conduct not likely to serve the cause of Chusero, or to redound to his own credit.