But now that the moment had come, Humayun felt strangely reluctant. Even half an hour ago he had been so certain what he would do – ruthless as Timur, he would order Kamran’s and Askari’s immediate execution and send Hindal to perpetual imprisonment in some far-off fortress. Yet looking down at the three of them – Kamran so arrogant and defiant, Askari and young Hindal plainly terrified – Humayun felt his anger ebbing. Their father had been dead only a few months, and how could he ignore Babur’s dying words? Do nothing against your brothers, however much you think they might deserve it. Just as in love-making, there was a time to be rigorous and a time to be gentle.
Stepping down from his throne, Humayun walked slowly over to his brothers and, starting with Kamran, embraced them.The trio stood before him, swaying slightly, expressions confused as they searched his face for the meaning of his actions. ‘It is not fitting that we brothers should quarrel. I do not wish to spill the blood of our house into the earth of this new land of ours – it would be a bad omen for our dynasty. Swear your loyalty to me and you shall live. I will also give you provinces to govern which, though part of the empire, you shall rule as your own, subject only to me.’
Around him, Humayun caught sounds first of astonishment and then of approval rising from his courtiers and commanders, and pride flooded through him. This was real greatness. This was truly how an emperor should act – crushing dissent but then showing magnanimity. As he embraced his brothers a second time, grateful tears shimmered in Askari’s and Hindal’s eyes. But Kamran’s green ones remained dry, and his expression was bleak and unfathomable.
Chapter 2
An Impudent Enemy
The morning sun was glinting gold on the breastplates of the two tall, white-turbaned bodyguards who preceded Humayun across the courtyard of the red sandstone Agra fort, past the bubbling fountains into the high-ceilinged durbar hall. Making his way across the pillared hall which was open to the cooling breezes on three sides, and moving through the assembled ranks of his counsellors who prostrated themselves in formal salutation at his approach, Humayun ascended the marble dais in the centre of the room. Here, gathering his green silk robes around him, he seated himself on his gilded, high-backed throne. The two guards, hands on their swords, positioned themselves just behind the throne, one at either side.
Humayun signalled his advisers to rise. ‘You know why I have called you together today – to discuss the presumptuous posturings of Sultan Bahadur Shah. Not content with his rich lands of Gujarat to our southwest, he gave refuge to the sons of Ibrahim Lodi, Sultan of Delhi, whom my father and I with your magnificent help deposed. Proclaiming his family ties to them, he began assembling allies around him. His ambassadors insinuated to the Rajputs and the Afghan clans that our empire is more illusion than reality. He derided it for being only two hundred miles wide even though it extends a thousand miles from the Khyber. They dismiss us as mere barbarian raiders whose rule will be as easily blown away as the morning mist.
‘All this we knew and held as beneath our contempt but this morning a messenger – exhausted by riding through the night – brought news that one of Bahadur Shah’s armies, led by the Lodi pretender Tartar Khan, has raided across our borders. Scarcely eighty miles west of Agra, they captured a caravan bearing tribute from one of our Rajput vassals. Of this much I am certain. We will not tolerate such disrespect. We must and will punish the sultan severely. What I have summoned you here to discuss is not whether we should crush him, but how best to do it.’ Humayun paused and looked around at his counsellors before continuing.
Suleiman Mirza, a cousin of Humayun and general of his cavalry, was the first to speak. ‘Bahadur Shah will not be easy to defeat. To do so we must look to our strengths. Unlike when your father conquered Delhi, we have more men, horses and elephants than our enemy. The animals are well trained and the soldiers loyal.The prospect of the booty from Bahadur Shah’s overflowing vaults will reinforce their appetite for battle. But there is another difference from when the Moghuls came to Hindustan. This time, both sides will have cannon and matchlock muskets – not just us. The sultan has used the taxes he imposes on the pilgrims setting out across the high sea on the haj to Mecca and on the traders from distant lands who throng his ports of Cambay and Surat to buy many cannon and matchlocks and to entice experienced Ottoman armourers to work in his foundries. We can no longer rely on the very presence of our artillerymen to turn every battle for us. They will still be important, but we need to change our tactics once more.’
‘Yes, easily enough said, but what does it mean in practice?’ asked Baba Yasaval, tugging at his tassel of hair.
‘Combine the tactics of His Majesty’s father Babur in his youth with those of his last battles,’ answered Suleiman Mirza. ‘Send fast raiding parties of cavalry and mounted archers into Gujarat to hit Bahadur Shah’s forces wherever they find them and then disappear again long before he can concentrate his armies against them. Leave him guessing where our main attack will come but all the time advance our main column with the artillery and elephants steadily into his territory.’
Though most of Humayun’s counsellors nodded, Baba Yasaval asked, ‘But what should our main army’s specific objective be?’
‘Why not the fortress of Champnir, deep in the forests of Gujarat?’ said Humayun. ‘It contains Bahadur’s greatest royal treasury. He will not feel able to yield it to us. He will be forced to attack to relieve it from our besiegers.’
‘Yes, but how will we combat his threat to the rear of our besieging force?’ said Suleiman Mirza.
This time it was Baba Yasaval who answered, eyes now gleaming at the thought of action. ‘We have the advantage of time. We can dig in our guns so they can fire at both the fortress and the relieving columns, and we can position our armies to fight a battle on two sides. If Bahadur Shah tries to lift the siege he’ll get a nasty surprise.’
‘You speak soundly,’ said Humayun. ‘I will myself lead the first of the raiding parties to cross into Gujarat. If Bahadur Shah hears – as he will – that I am in the field myself, it may confuse him further as to our real objectives. Suleiman Mirza, I look to you and Baba Yasaval to make the preparations. The council is now dismissed.’
With that Humayun rose and with his two bodyguards once more in front of him slowly made his way back across the courtyard to his quarters. Once there he asked Jauhar, his cup-bearer and most trusted attendant – a tall, fine-featured youth whose father had been one of the commanders of Babur’s bodyguard – to summon his astrologers to join him in an hour or so to calculate the most auspicious time to begin his campaign. His battle plan had been decided quickly. The reassurance that he had the support of the astrologers’ star charts and tabulations in the timing of his invasion would be valuable to his own confidence as he began his first campaign as emperor as well as to the morale of his army.
In the meantime he would visit his aunt Khanzada to seek her wise advice on his choice of officers for his expedition and, even more important, to discuss with her his views on another question. Was it safe while he was away on campaign to leave his half-brothers in their various provinces – Kamran to the northwest in the Punjab, Askari in Jaunpur to the east and Hindal to the west in Alwar? Might they use the opportunity to rise against him? Should he give them commands in his army and take them with him so he could keep an eye on them?
The reports reaching him from their provinces gave no outward reason for concern, particularly in the case of Hindal and Askari who regularly wrote back in punctilious detail on their administration and remitted their taxes in full, sometimes even ahead of time. Kamran too sent in the due proportion of his province’s revenues, even if his reports were infrequent and brief. Occasionally an official, dissatisfied with his progress at Humayun’s court, had gone to Kamran’s province to try his luck there. Sometimes there had been rumours that Kamran had been assembling a larger army than he strictly needed for his province, but these had usually proved groundless or justified by the need t
o put down some petty rebel or other.
Yet Humayun couldn’t quite rid himself of the feeling that Kamran would not abandon his ambitions so easily and might only be biding his time, ready to exploit for his own benefit any misfortune of Humayun’s. So be it. He would ensure he suffered none to allow Kamran such an opportunity. In any case, perhaps he had misjudged Kamran and, together with Hindal and Askari, he had learned his lesson and was grateful as he should be for Humayun’s mercy. He hoped it was so. Just in case it was not, he needn’t move against Bahadur Shah until his grandfather Baisanghar was back in Agra. He and Humayun’s vizier Kasim had after their return from Kabul set off on a tour of inspection of the imperial treasury in Delhi from which they would return in a few days. Then Humayun would appoint Baisanghar regent in his absence. He could safely trust his grandfather – and Khanzada and Kasim too – to keep an eye on his troublesome half-brothers.
They would also watch over his mother. Since Babur’s death Maham seemed to have lost the little interest she’d ever had in the affairs of the world. Though proud her son was emperor, she never questioned him about his plans or offered him advice as Khanzada did. When he was with her, all she did was speak longingly of the past. But perhaps, in time, she would see that it was the future that must occupy him now.
Humayun looked down from a sandstone escarpment on to a long column of Bahadur Shah’s men who, oblivious of his presence, were throwing up clouds of dust as they snaked along the riverbank four hundred feet below. At this time of year – early March, two months after he had left Agra – the river was mostly dry with only a few pools of water remaining in the deepest parts of its bed. Along the banks an occasional palm tree provided a touch of green. Humayun could see squadrons of cavalry to the front and rear of the column with divisions of infantry and a large baggage train in its middle.
Unable to suppress a smile of triumph, Humayun turned in his saddle to speak to Jauhar, who was accompanying him on the campaign as one of his qorchis – his squires. ‘We have them, Jauhar. Our scouts have done well in gathering information and leading us here. The Gujaratis have no suspicion of our presence. Now gallop back the mile to where we left the rest of our men. Order them to ride along the top of the escarpment, keeping far enough from the rim to avoid being seen from below, until they reach that point a mile or so ahead where the slope becomes gentle enough for us to swoop down to attack our enemies. I and my bodyguard will meet them there.’
Jauhar nodded and moved off. As Humayun turned with his bodyguard back from the lip to make his own way to the rendezvous point, he felt the same mixture of apprehension and excitement as he always had before battles, but also a greater weight of responsibility than ever before. Previously his father, even if not present on the immediate battlefield, had approved the overall plan of campaign and it had been his father’s throne – not his own – that had been at stake. The thought caused a cold shiver to run through Humayun and he halted his men for a moment. Was he sure – as sure as he could be – that his plan was a good one – that he had spent enough time checking and re-checking each detail to leave as little as possible to chance? As he pondered this, he saw two large brown hawks soar seemingly effortlessly from beneath the escarpment high into the cloudless blue sky as the hot air bore them upward on outstretched wings. Suddenly he remembered the eagles he had seen at the battle of Panipat which had proved such a favourable omen. Surely these birds would prove so too as he struck the first blow in his conquest of Gujarat.
Throwing off his doubts and uncertainties, Humayun reached the appointed meeting place for the rest of his forces. As soon as they were all assembled, Humayun quickly gave orders for the attack to be conducted in two waves.The first, after galloping down the steep slope, would envelop the rear of the enemy column.The second would encircle the vanguard, exploiting its confusion as it halted and tried to turn round – as it would be bound to do – to assist the rear. Drawing his father’s sword Alamgir, Humayun kissed its jewelled hilt and shouted to his men, ‘Fill your minds with warrior spirit and your lungs with heroes’ breath. We fight to defend our newly won lands. Let us prove to these presumptuous upstarts that we have not lost our ancient reputation for courage.’ Then, waving his sword above his head, Humayun signalled the charge and with his bodyguard about him kicked his black stallion down the slope to the attack.
As they raced down the hill, stones and red dust flying around them, he could see in front of him the Gujarati column halt as the men turned in his direction to see what the noise was.Taken completely by surprise the Gujaratis hesitated and then began to react only slowly as if for them time was almost standing still, fumbling for their weapons and looking around in panic for their officers to see what their orders were. One black-bearded man was quicker than the others, dismounting and trying to pull his musket from its thick cloth bag tied to his saddle.
Humayun turned his horse towards the musketeer and, gripping his sword in his right hand, ducked low to his horse’s neck as he urged his mount on, all thoughts of command and destiny banished from his mind by the visceral instinct to survive, to kill or be killed. Within moments he was on the man, who was still struggling to prime his musket. Humayun slashed at his bearded face and down he went, blood pouring from his wound, beneath the hooves of the attacking cavalry. Humayun was well into the enemy column now, cutting and slashing as he rode. Suddenly he was through, pulling up his snorting, panting horse as his men rallied around him.
Immediately he had enough men, Humayun charged back into the column a second time. A tall Gujarati cut at him with his curved sword, striking his breastplate and knocking Humayun back in the saddle.As Humayun struggled to control his rearing horse, the Gujarati rode at him again and, overeager to finish his victim off, aimed a swinging sword cut at Humayun’s head. Humayun reacted instinctively, ducking under the blade which hissed through the air just above his helmet. Before the Gujarati could recover, Humayun quickly thrust Alamgir deep into his abdomen. As the man dropped his sword and clutched the wound, Humayun coolly and deliberately struck at the back of his opponent’s neck, almost severing his head from his shoulders.
Glancing about him, Humayun saw through the billowing red dust that the Gujarati column was disintegrating. Some of the horsemen were galloping away in panic. Others in the middle of the column were, however, offering stouter resistance, defending the wagons which presumably contained the baggage and the cannon. Humayun knew that even if he captured them, he would not be able to carry off any cannon because they would slow down his force whose entire purpose was fast raiding. However, he could disable them. With the blood of battle thumping in his veins and yelling to his trumpeter to sound the order to follow him, Humayun immediately charged towards the baggage wagons.
Suddenly he heard the crack of a musket – then of another. Some of the Gujarati musketeers had got their weapons into operation and were firing from the cover of the baggage carts. One of the horses galloping ten yards from Humayun was hit, falling headfirst into the dust and catapulting its rider to the ground where he lay twitching a moment before the horses of his comrades following behind kicked and tossed him beneath their hooves, extinguishing any life lingering in his body.
Humayun knew that he must reach the wagons before the musketeers could reload. Waving Alamgir once more, he kicked his horse on and almost immediately was among the carts. He cut at one musketeer who was endeavouring with shaking hands to ram the metal ball down into the long barrel of his musket with a steel rod. Struck across his face, the man collapsed, dropping his weapon. The enemy had had no time to pull the wagons into any defensive formations and so Humayun’s men, who had quickly joined him, found it easy to surround and subdue the defenders of individual wagons. More of the Gujarati cavalry galloped away and the infantry and camp followers were also fleeing as fast as they could.
Resistance was at an end – at least for the present. However, Humayun knew that his force was considerably outnumbered and that when the Gujarati officers re
alised this, they would try to regroup and attack him. Therefore there was no time to waste. Humayun ordered a detachment of his cavalry to pursue the fugitives, cutting down as many as they could but riding no more than a couple of miles before returning to form a loose defensive perimeter. He gestured to other men to investigate the contents of the wagons. They went at it with a will, throwing off the heavy jute covers to reveal six medium-sized cannon and their powder and shot as well as bundles of new spears and five boxes of muskets.
‘We’ll take all the muskets. Empty the boxes. Strap bundles of the muskets to the saddles of some of the spare horses. Fill the cannon barrels with as many linen bags of powder as they will take and then run a trail of powder along the ground to those rocks over there. We’ll ignite the powder from behind them,’ Humayun said.
A quarter of an hour later the work was complete. Humayun despatched most of his men to a safe distance but remained with a few of his bodyguards to oversee the destruction. He gave the honour of firing the powder to a tall young Badakshani who, taking the flint box, struggled nervously to get a spark.When eventually he succeeded, the powder flame went sputtering across the ground. For a moment it seemed that it was going to die as it skirted a small rock but then it was away again. Almost immediately there was a massive bang followed closely by five others.The charges had exploded in each of the cannon barrels.
When the debris and dust had settled Humayun, still half deafened by the blast, could see that four of the barrels were split and peeled back, much like the skin of a banana. Another had disintegrated completely. The barrel of the sixth was cracked – just enough, Humayun thought, to render it useless. His men had soon returned and were searching the remaining baggage wagons for booty. One had found some silks, another was jamming his dagger into the lock of a casket, trying to force it in search of jewels.
Empire of the Moghul: Brothers at War Page 3
