emperors of the peacock throne - abraham eraly -

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Babur loved the pleasures of the table too; fruits especially were a

passion with him. He does not however seem to have been keen on the

fourth component of Omar Khayyarn's paradise, women. He was a

good provider and a caring householder, affectionate and deferentialtowards his women, especially towards his elder relatives, but he was

not, unlike his rolypoly father, a ladies' man. Babur preferred the

macho bonhomie of his friends to the pleasures of the harem.

Babur's first wife was !isha, a cousin, to whom he was betrothed

at the age of five. "leven years later, she #oined him in $ergana. %he

found him a bashful lover. !s Babur tells it, &hough ( was not ill

disposed towards her, yet, this being my first marriage, out of modesty

and bashfulness, ( used to see her once in ten, fifteen, twenty days.)ater on, when even my first inclination did not last, my bashfulness

increased. hen my mother Khanum used to send me, once a month or

every forty days, with driving and driving, dunnings and worrying.&

Babur had his first child, a daughter, by !isha three years after she

#oined him, but the baby died in infancy, and !isha herself deserted

him during his days of homeless wandering. By and by Babur ac*uired

other wives and several concubines, as behoved a prince, and he

fathered a number of children, as duty re*uired of him, to ensure the

continuity of his line. But there was no ardour in him for women.

here was only one romantic infatuation in Babur's life, his

unabashed love for a ba+aar boy in !ndi+han. Babur was siteen then,

and !isha had #ust #oined him. &(n those leisurely days,& he confesses,

&( discovered in myself a strange inclination . . . for a boy in the camp

ba+aar, his very name, Baburi, fitting in. -p till then ( had had no

inclination for anyone, indeed of love and desire, either by hearsay or

eperience, ( had not heard, ( had not talked . . . $rom time to time

Baburi used to come to my presence, but out of modesty and bashfulness

( could never look straight at him; how then could ( make conversation

and recital ... (n that frothingup of desire and passion, and under

that stress of youthful folly, ( used to wander, barehead, barefoot,

through street and lane, orchard and vineyard. ( showed civility neither

to friend nor stranger, took no care for myself or others . . .&

Babur does not tell how the affair ended. But he got over it soon

enough. Baburi was #ust an adolescent fancy, not unusual in an

environment in which, among /entral !sian aristocrats, biseuality wascommon, and pederasty high fashion. (n Babur's case, however, the

affair appears to have been virginally romantic and without carnal

epression. )ater, in Kabul, when he once again had time to en#oy

himself, he preferred the gentler seductions of literature, art, music and

gardening to carnal pleasures.

01



Babur gave all of himself to every one of his many cultural

pursuits, and his achievements in some of them were substantial. %till,

they were only avocations for him, and not for one moment would he

let himself forget that he was a king by profession, and that hisultimate ecstasy would be in the perilous thrill of the battlefield.

(2 K!B-), HO-3H he did not yet know what fate had in store for

him, Babur began to organi+e himself for the battles ahead, whipping

his men into a superb fighting force. &( had been at great pains to train

and eercise them to the utmost point,& he writes. &2ever, perhaps,

were my troops in such perfect discipline.& He also took care tomoderni+e his army, introducing muskets and cannons 4till then used

mostly in siege operations5 into field battle, a tactic he adopted from

the Ottoman urks. hat innovation would give him a crucial advantage in

(ndia.

6eanwhile, the political #igsaw in (ndia had rearranged itself, to

open a passage for Babur. !nd Babur needed that eit, to get away

from the ever menacing -+begs. &he foe mightily strong, ( very weak,

with no means of making terms, no strength to oppose,& he laments.

&(n the presence of such power and potency, we had to think of some

place for ourselves and, at this crisis and in the crack of time there was,

put a wider space between us and the strong foeman. hat choice lay

between Badakshan and Hindustan and that decision must now be

made.&

he choice fell on (ndia.

Babur states that from 0708 on he led five epeditions into (ndia,

but long before that, in fact from the time he took Kabul, he had been

active along (ndia's northwestern marches. hose early campaigns

were however only pillaging raids, and he probably did not cross the

(ndus till 0708, when he advanced as far as the 9helum. "ven then, till

071: he had no ambition beyond un#ab, which he claimed as his

imurid legacy, by virtue of it having been a part of imor's empire a

century earlier. hen, fortuitously, a greater opportunity came knocking.

he messengers of destiny were <ilawar Klan 4son of <aulat Khan, the

rebel !fghan governor of un#ab5 and !larm Khan 4an uncle of (brahim

)odi, the %ultan of

<elhi5, who arrived in Kabul to solicit Babur's helpin ousting (bra=him. Babur then took an omen, found it favourable, and

agreed to their proposal, intending not so much to help them as to help

himself.

he campaign of 071: was abortive. he allies, after occupying

un#ab, fell out over the division of the province. <aulat Khan wanted

0>



all of un#ab for himself, while Babur had other ideas. Babur therefore

prudently withdrew to Kabul, leaving a garrison in )ahore. (t would

have been dangerous for him to advance further into (ndia, with a

truculent <aulat Khan behind him in un#ab threatening his line of retreat.

Babur set out from Kabul on his final invasion of (ndia in mid

2ovember 0717, before the snows closed the mountain passes. He

moved leisurely, holding fre*uent wine parties along the way. By mid

<ecember he crossed the (ndus, never to recross it. His immediate

adversary was <aulat Khan, who had entered the field against him

with two swords girded to his waist to display his victoryordeath

resolve. hat, it turned out, was #ust bluster, for as soon as Baburapproached, the Khan's army scattered and the old man himself tamely

surrendered. He was brought before Babur with his two swords hanging

from his neck. Babur upbraided him? &( called thee $ather. ( showed

thee more honour and respect than thou couldst have asked . . . @hat

ill sayest thou ( have done thee, that thus thou shouldst hang a sword

on thy either side, lead an army out, fall on lands of ours, and stir strife

and trouble& he Khan had no answer.

But <aulat Khan was irrelevant. he real challenge lay ahead, at

anipat, where (brahim )odi waited with his army. &( put my foot in

the stirrup of resolution,& writes Babur, &set my hand on the rein of

trust in 3od, and moved forward against %ultan (brahim.&

0:



&(f $ame Be 6ine . . / I

B!B-A <(< 2O tarry in un#ab. "ven then it took him a while to

settle his affairs there, so that by the time he crossed the %atlu# and

advanced to the amuna, it was !pril, and the dreaded (ndian summer

was upon him. On reaching the amuna, at a point east of Kurukshetra,the epic battleground of the 6ahabharata, Babur encamped.

6eanwhile (brahim )odi, haughtily disregarding the dire warnings

of his astrologers, had advanced with his troops to anipat, eighty

kilometres north of <elhi, to challenge the intruder. he opposing

forces thus lay two marches away from each other, the !fghans

immediately to the south of anipat and the 6ughals some way to the

north of it.

he going had been easy for Babur in (ndia till then, as he had metonly desultory resistance from the !fghan provincial forces in un#ab.

2ow he had to face the imperial !fghan army. His own army was

small by (ndian standards. $our months earlier, when he was crossing

the (ndus, his army, Babur reports, numbered 01,CCC men, &great and

small, good and bad, retainer and nonretainer.& He was later #oined by

the contingents he had left behind in (ndia during his previous campaign,

as well as by a few renegade !fghan officers and soldiers. @ith these

accretions, by the time Babur reached anipat his army had probablyswelled to about 1C,CCC men.

he actual strength of the !fghan army is not known. Babur

estimated it to be roughly 0CC,CCC strong, with some 0CCC elephants.

@hatever the true count, the !fghan army was certainly much larger

than the 6ughal army. his !fghan advantage was somewhat offset by

Babur's superior weaponry? a train of artillery 4estimates vary from #ust

two to a few hundred pieces5 and a contingent of musketeers 4again of

unknown number, but probably about :CCC5 which would be used in(ndia in a field battle for the first time at anipat. %till, the balance of

power favoured (brahim. Babur could win only by clever tactics.

6O% O$ B!B-A'% battles till then had been close combats in the hill

country, in constricted battlefields where large forces could not be



deployed, and it was not the si+e of the army but its spirit, the tactical

use of the terrain and the element of surprise that decided the outcome

of battles. Babur was now in flat, open country. Here numbers would

matter. here was little scope for a surprise attack, no tactical advantagein the terrain. !nd valour, rapidity of response and manoeuvrability,

though they all could make a difference, would not be decisive.

o defeat (brahim )odi, Babur had to neutrali+e the awesome

!fghan superiority in numbers and enable his own strengths in cavalry

and gunnery to prevail. he critical re*uirement for him was to create.

a narrow battlefront, to prevent the !fghans from sweeping around the

flanks of his small army and encircling it. But that in itself was not

enough, for however narrow the front, Babur would not have enough

depth of array to withstand the !fghan onslaught which could, by its

sheer mass and velocity, smash through the 6ughal ranks like a giant

tidal wave. Babur had to devise a means to steel his frontline, to hold

the !fghans in check long enough for his slowfiring guns to break the

!fghan formation. (f he could do that, then the 6ughal cavalry could

charge into their midst and scythe them down.

@hat had Babur to do to gain that tactical advantage (n his

*uandary, he summoned his veterans to a war council. ogether,reaching back to the lore of their turbulent land and the memory of

Babur's own thirtytwo years of incessant wars, they conceived a

revolutionary new strategy that deterously modified the traditional

6ughal battle formation to accommodate the Ottoman walloffire

gunnery tactics and the wheeling cavalry charge of the -+begsDto halt

the !fghan #uggernaut in its tracks and annihilate it.

Having decided on the strategy, Babur sent out scouts to survey

the prospective battlefield at anipat. he stretch of open land on the

eastern flank of Haryana along the arnuna was the traditional passageinto the 3angetic lain, a corridor between the mountains on the north

and the desert on the south, at the end of which lay <elhi. his was the

arena of India's destiny where other decisive battles had been fought in

the past, as they would be in the future. he ground at anipat was

ideal for a conventional field battle. (t suited (brahim )odi.

But it did not suit Babur. here was nothing at all in the terrain

that he could take advantage ofDit was #ust a vast, open, flat field, its

monotony relieved only by a few trees and thorn bushes. Babur hadsomehow to modify the battleground to serve his particular strategic

needs.

(n two rapid marches southward along the amuna, Babur reached

anipat and deployed his army to the east of the town, between the

town and the river, which in the siteenth century flowed close by. His

0E



right wing abutted the buildings of the town, secure against being

outflanked; to protect his left wing, he dug ditches and laid an obstacle

of felled trees between the river and his position, thus effectively

narrowing the width of the field to ensure that the battle would befought precisely along the front on which he deployed his army. he

enemy would have no chance to sweep around him, either on the left

or on the right.

o protect his frontline and to impede the !fghan cavalry onset,

Babur set up along his entire front a barrier of guncarriages and other

carts, some FCC of them, placed about four metres apart and with ropes

of rawhide stretched between them. (n between the carts, Babur placed

his musketeers, si or seven in each gap, protected by breastworks.!nd to give an offensive potential to this essentially defensive

deployment, he left several gaps, each about a bowshot wide, between

groups of carts through which a couple of hundred horsemen could

charge abreast. By 01th !pril Babur was ready for the enemy, his

preparations complete.

His was a perfect defensiveoffensive arrangement, which could

hold the enemy at bay until he was ready to attack. he only

disadvantage, and this was a crucial factor, was that its success dependedon the !fghans attacking his entrenched position; if they did not attack,

all his elaborate preparations would be worth nothing. Babur confidently

epected the !fghans to attack, for after all the 6ughals had intruded

into the )odi domain and it was for (brahim )odi to epel them.

(brahim )odi viewed the situation differently.

He was close by, straddling the route to <elhi in a good blocking

position. !s Babur set about preparing his defences, the sultan made

no move to interfere. /learly, he was not planning to attack. He had noneed to, as his ob#ective was only to deny Babur passage to <elhi.

<efence, in this case, was the best form of offence. By staying fast in his

position, the sultan could force Babur to leave his entrenchments and

attack him. ime was on (brahim )odi's side. He could afford to wait.

But Babur could not. !s an aggressor in an alien land, and facing a

superior army, he needed *urck results to keep his men in the high heat

of martial +eal. $or seven days, with increasing restlessness, he waited

for the !fghan attack. 6eanwhile, the morale of his army began tocrumble. &6any of the troops,& he notes, &were in great tremor and

alarm.&

Babur tried to calm them by ridiculing (brahim )odi as &an unproved

brave& from whom they had nothing to fear. !t the same time he

sought to incite the !fghans into action by sending provocative sallies

into their camp, hurling insults and shooting arrows. hese were

17



ignored by the !fghans. &%till he made no move; nor did his troops

sally out,& grumbles Babur. he unproved brave was proving to have

a firm and sound strategy of his own.

(n the end, it was Babur who was obliged to change his battle planand launch, on 08th !pril, a night attack on the !fghans, hoping to

take them by surprise. he main body of Babur's left wing, a contingent

of some four or five thousand men, nearly a fourth of his army, was

sent into the attack, while Babur himself stood at arms with the rest of

his men, ready to press the advantage should the attackers make

headway, or to cover their retreat should they fail.

he foray was a fiasco. (nstead of surprising the !fghans, the

6ughals were in for a surprise themselvesDthey found the !fghansalert and ready for them, so that, in peril of being decimated, they

retreated abruptly, without engaging.

But such was Babur's luck that it was this apparent rout that got

him what he wantedDan !fghan attack on his position.

!A() 1CH, H" day after the failed night attack, was a *uiet day in

the 6ughal camp, as Babur waited for the !fghan countermove. He

waited in vain, though late that night the 6ughal camp was thrown

into panic by a false alarm about a surprise !fghan attackD&$or

twenty minutes there was uproar and call to arms,& says Babur. he

6ughals were edgy,

hen, as dawn broke over the plain on %aturday, 10st !pril,

6ughal pickets reported that the !fghans were on the move. !pparently,

the easy rout of the 6ughal nightraiders had emboldened the !fghans.

hey scented an easy victory, and moved in for the kill.

his was a fatal error. he !fghans were walking into the trapcunningly laid by Babur.

Babur waited, his cavalry, his barricade of carts and breastworks,

his cannoneers and musketeers, all in position. Behind the gun line, the

6ughal army, with soldiers as well as horses clad in mail, was drawn

up in the classic imurid formationDthe advance guard up front at the

centre, with the main contingent directly behind it, flanked by the right

and left wings, and flying s*uadrons at the far right and the far left. !t

the rear of it all, Babur kept a large reserve force ready for anycontingency.

he !fghans came on at a fast gallop, as if they meant simply to

overrun the 6ughals.

But they were in trouble even before they engaged the 6ughal

army. %*uee+ed between the walls of anipat on their left and Babur's

0G



ditches and hurdles on their right, the !fghans found themselves in

a bottleneck when they closed in on the 6ughals. !s they sidled

to s*uee+e though the constriction, their l e f t wing angled ahead of

the frontline, so it was in an odd, lopsided formation that the !fghansslammed, like a brittle wedge, into the right wing of the 6ughal

army.

Babur, who had positioned himself near the centre of the 6ughal

deployment in an overseeing position, noticed the !fghans bearing

down on his right, and rushed a part of his reserve troops to reinforce

that wing. But there was no need for aniety. @hen the !fghans came

up against the 6ughal defences, and the 6ughal guns opened up 4an

unepected terror5 their forward divisions faltered, and as they tried torein in, the ranks behind, unable to break their momentum, slammed

into them, throwing the entire !fghan army, already under a lateral

s*uee+e because of the constriction in the wings, into disarray. (t was

precisely as Babur had planned. !n army no more but a dense,

seething horde, the !fghans were unable to fight effectively, or even to

retreat.

Babur sei+ed the moment and swung his flying s*uadrons into

action, to wheel around the enemy and attack them from the rear.%imultaneously, he ordered his left and right wings to advance. His

strategy was clear. He meant to roll up the !fghan wings and slam

them into the !fghan centre, turning the !fghan army into compacted

fodder for his cannons and muskets.

he !fghans fought on valiantly, repeatedly charging the 6ughal

position, but their plight was hopeless. (t was not a battle any more,

but carnage. &he sun had mounted a spearhigh when the onset of

battle began, and the combat lasted till midday, when the enemy was

completely broken and routed, and my friends victorious and eulting,&writes Babur. &By the grace and mercy of !lmighty 3od, this arduous

undertaking was rendered easy for me, and this mighty army, in the

space of half a day, laid in the dust.&

he slaughter was dreadful. he !fghan dead were set down by

Babur as 07,CCC or 0E,CCC men, a likely figure. (brahim )odi himself lay

dead amidst a pile of corpses, the only 6uslim ruler of <elhi 4urk,

!fghan or 6ughal5 ever to fall in battle. @hen the 6ughals found the

slain sultan's body, they, as was customary among them, severed hishead and took it as a memento to Babur. Babur treated the grisly

trophy with grave respect. &Honour to your bravery& he eclaimed,

lifting up the head solemnly. Before the battle he had spoken scornfully

of (brahim )odi, but now that the day was won, he would salute the

brave dead. He called for a bolt of brocade to shroud the body, and

08



commanded two of his top amirs, Dilawar Khan and Amir Khatifa, to

bathe Ibrahim Lodi and to bury him with full honours at the spot

where he had fallen.

AN !"I# $AD been won in a mere fi%e&hour battle. (hat %ery

day, writes )abur, I directed $urnayun !ir*a . . . to set out without

ba++a+e or encumbrances, and proceed with all possible epedition to

occupy A+ra -the Lodi capital, and ta/e possession of the treasuries.

Another contin+ent was rushed to occupy Delhi.

)abur himself rode on to sei*e the Af+han camp, then pitched his

tents on the ban/s of a nearby stream for the ni+ht. (he net day, a0unday, he set out for A+ra. n the way he stopped o%er in Delhi for

a few days, securin+ t reasuries and %isi t in+ palaces, +ardens and

s h r i n e s . $ e a l s o a r r a n + e d f o r t h e / h u t b a h - a f o r m a l s e r m o n ,

incorporatin+ a prayer for the rei+nin+ monarch to be read in his name

at the main mos2ue in the city durin+ the 3riday noon con+re+ational

prayers, to le+ali*e his rule, $e reached A+ra on 4th !ay, hayi n+

co%ered the 567 /ilometres from "anipat in two wee/s at the hei+ht of

summer. 3or a wee/ he camped in an open field on the outs/irts of the

city. n (hursday, 17th !ay, he ceremonially entered A+ra, and rodeinto the ci tadel of Ibrahim Lodi to ta/e up residence there as the

mperor of $industan.

)abur was now forty&three years old. (hree decades earlier, as a

boy&/in+ on the ric/ety throne of an obscure, war&torn principality, he

had dared to dream +rand dreams, and now a t las t , a f te r endless

stru++les and many misfortunes, he had won a domain to match his

%ision. 3er+ana, his ancestral /in+dom 8ost to the 9*be+s, was now a

distant memory: 0amar/and, the le+endary (imo rid capital which hehad once ardently co%eted, a forsa/en passion: and Kabul, his capital

for twenty&fi%e years, ;ust a pro%incial outpost. India was now home

for )abur.

)abur's decision to settle in India was an unpleasant surprise to his

men. (hey had epected him to return home to Kabul , laden with

booty, as he had done on pre%ious occasions. <hen )abur first launched

his Indian campai+ns, the anneation of "un;ab as a pro%ince of his

Kabul /in+dom was the limit of his ambition. (hat still had seemed to be his +oal as he set out on his last Indian in%asion, for he had ;ust

before that entered into an a+reement with Alam Khan, the Lodi

pretender, by which, in return for help in oustin+ Ibrahim Lodi, )abur

was to +et Lahore and all the Lodi lands west of it. )abur's officers had

therefore assumed that the epedition into the ndo&=an+etic "lain was

57



#ust another pillaging sweep. (ndia was opulent, but inhospitable. !

good hunting ground, but no place to live in.

%uch were the views of the 6ughal amirs, and they resented

Babur's decision to remain in (ndia. His very generosity compoundedhis problems. &he treasures of five kings fell into his hands,& writes

3ulbadan Begiim, his daughter; &he gave everything away.& !ll his

menDnobles and soldiers, even traders and scribesDreceived generous

bounties from Babur, and so did his relations and friends back home,

as well as holy men in %amarkand and Khurasan. &"very soul in the

country of Kabul and the valleyside of Iarsak, man and woman, bond

and free, of age and nonage,& was given a silver coin, records Babur.

He kept nothing for himself.

His men were sated. 2ow all they wanted was to get back to the

cool mountains of !fghanistan and en#oy their good fortune. !s Khwa#a

(/alan, one of Babur's intimates, would write while leaving (ndia for

Kabul,

If safe and sound F cross the Sind,

Blacken my face ere I wish for Hind.

Babur knew how his men felt. He himself found (ndia a dreary, land.

&Hindustan is a country of few charms,& he frets. &(ts people have no

good looks; of social intercourse, paying and receiving visits, there is

none; of genius and capacity none; of manners none; in handicraft and

work there is no form or symmetry, method or *uality; there are no

good horses, no dogs, no grapes, muskmelons or firstrate fruits,

no ice or cold water, no good bread or cooked food in ba+aars, no hotbaths, no colleges, no candles, torches or candlesticks.&

6ore than anything else, the climate of (ndia oppressed the 6ughals.he summer of 071E was savage in !gra, one of the worst in living

memory. &Iiolent, pestilential winds struck people down in heaps

together,& writes Babur. !nd this was not all. owerful adversariesD

!fghans in the east, Aa#puts in the southDwere marshalling their forces

and advancing against Babur. he 6ughals, it was clear, would have to

fight and win many more battles before they could claim Hindustan as

their own.

here was no support for the 6ughals anywhere in (ndia. hepeople of the land were sullenly hostile, harassing the 6ughals atevery turn. &On our first coming to !gra, there was remarkable dislike

and hostility between its people and mine,& writes Babur. &!ll the

inhabitants had run away in terror. 2either grain for ourselves nor corn

for our horses was to be had. he villagers, out of hostility and hatred

10



to us, had taken to thieving and highway robbery; roads became

impassable.& owns and villages fortified themselves and would not

submit without a fight. (ndia, it seemed, would have to be con*uered

inch by inch.

@!% H" /O2J-"% of (ndia worth such a formidable effort Babur

thought so. (ndia, he says, was &a large country , that hadL masses

of gold and silver,& and &workmen of every profession and trade . M

wereL innumerable, and without end.& hese were ma#or attractions.

here was, in additionDand perhaps, for Babur, ever so much more

seductive than any material rewardDthe prospect of glory that would

be his, his place in history as the founder of a great empire. !s one of

Babur's favourite sayings had it,

Give me but fame, and if I die I am contented.

If fame be mine, let Death claim my body.

(n deciding to remain in (ndia, Babur was looking at a time beyond his

own time. he ambitions of his men, however, were yoked to their

immediate appetites, and they clamoured to be sent back to Kabul. But

Babur remained adamant. &By the )abours of several years, by

encountering hardship, by long travel, by flinging myself and the army

into battle, and by deadly slaughter, we, through 3od's grace, beat

these masses of enemies in order that we might take their broad lands,&

he reminded his men. &2ow what force compels us, what necessity has

arisen that we should, without cause, abandon countries taken at such

a risk of life @as it for us to remain in Kabul, the sport of harsh

poverty Henceforth, let no wellwisher of mine speak of such things&his ehortation chastened most, but not all. %ome, including a

couple of his most trusted old comrades in arms, such as Khwaia

Kalan, pleaded with Babur to let them return to Kabul. Aeluctantly, he

let them go. But he missed them.

He missed Kabul too. &Boundless and infinite is my desire to go to

those parts,& he wrote in a letter to Khwa#a Kalan in Kabul. Broiling in

the summer heat of (ndia, he longed for the mountains. Once, when a

Kabul melon was brought to him and its aroma filled the air, he wasawash with nostalgiaD&( felt myself affected with a strong feeling of

loneliness, and a sense of my eile from my native country, and ( could

not help shedding tears while eating it.& He dreamed of returning to

Kabul some day.

But not yet. He had a mission to accomplish in (ndia.

11



anipat had given Babur his place in history, but it was only a

provisional place. (f he abandoned (ndia after anipat, or if his successors

failed to preserve his con*uest 4as nearly happened5, Babur would be

relegated to the nether regions of history crowded with petty potentates.Babur could not afford to rest on his laurels. He had, as he enigmatically

noted m his memoirs, &seen his task whole&.

here was, however, a lull in action after anipat, as Babur's

adversaries, the Aa#puts and the !fghans, waited to see what his moves

would be. 6eanwhile, Babur's decision to make (ndia his home brought

him several (ndian allies, including a few !fghan nobles, who sought

to hitch their fortunes to the rising 6ughal star. !lso, the hostile public

mood in (ndia, which had troubled Babur initially, now began todissipate, because, as !hmad adgar puts it, &during the first two

months of His 6a#esty's reign, he behaved to every one with such

kindness and generosity that dread and terror were banished from the

hearts of all men.& Babur's position further improved around this time

with the arrival of a number of 6ughals from /entral !sia to #oin him

on his invitation. &he 6ost High has given us sovereignty in

Hindustan,& he had written to them; &let them come that we may see

prosperity together.&

Babur needed all the strength he could marshal, for his position in(ndia was still perilous. By /entral !sian reckoning, the domain that

Babur ac*uired by his victory over (brahim )odi was immense, but it

was nevertheless only a strip of land staked out along the )ahore

<elhi!gra belt. he 6ughals were by no means the dominant power

in (ndia. he !fghans, defeated but not crushed, remained in power in

Bihar and Bengal. (mmediately to the south of the 6ughal lands lay a

powerful Aa#put confederacy under Aana %anga of 6ewar, who dreamed of

raising a Hindu empire from the ashes of the <elhi %ultanate.

$urther south was the prosperous !fghan kingdom of 3u#arat, a

rallying ground for ambitious !fghans. %till further south, beyond the

Iindhya 6ountains, were other powerful kingdoms, the <eccan

sultanates and the Ii#ayanagar empire.

Babur's immediate concern was with the !fghan chieftains who

had regrouped in eastern (ndia and had menacingly advanced to

Kanau#, some 1CC kilometres east of !gra. But the !fghan challenge

turned out to be a weak bluff. !s the 6ughals advanced, they scattered.

he Aa#puts were *uite another matter. Babur however remained



curiously complacent about them, underestimating their power. &Aana

%anga,& he notes in his memoirs, &is thought not to be the e*ual of the

!fghanL rebels.& his was a serious miscalculation. $ortunately for

Babur, the Aa#puts were still a long way off. !nd the monsoon, during



which no ma#or military operation was possible in (ndia, had broken

over the land. Babur would have a few months rest.

He used this interlude of peace to lay out gardens and palaces in

!gra, to make the city congenial to his lifestyle. %oon after arriving in!gra he had scouted around on the left bank of the amuna, in the

crook of the river opposite the fort, for a place to build a garden

comple, but had, he says, found &those grounds . . . so bad and

unattractive that we traversed them with a hundred disgusts and

repulsions.& %till, he ingeniously transformed that cheerless landscape

into a pleasant retreat, constructing tanks, water courses, bathhouses

and other buildings, and laying out gardens with &order and symmetry,

with suitable borders and flowerbeds in every corner, and in every

border rose and narcissus in perfect arrangement,& as he puts it. he

6ughal amirs followed Babur across the river, and soon the garden

comple grew into a flourishing and lovely suburb. he local people,

says Babur, &had never seen grounds planned so symmetrically and

thus laid out,& and they in their prosaic simplicity called the settlement

Kabul.

H"2 H" A!(2% ceased, and it was time again for Babur to return

to the battlefield. Aana %anga of 6ewar, heading a formidable Aa#put

confederacy, and #oined by several !fghan chieftains, including 6ahmud

)odi, the brother of (brahim )odi, was rapidly advancing on !gra.

Babur and the Aana had been in friendly contact with each other before

the battle of anipat, but now they had bitter grievances against each

otherDBabur accused the Aana of not keeping his word to make a

diversionary attack on (brahim )odi on the eve of anipat, and theAana resented Babur occupying lands to which he had a claim. hese

recriminations were, however, mere pretets. he real issue was who

should have sway over Hindustan.

Aana %anga was a dangerous adversary. !ccording to 9ames od,

an earlynineteenthcentury chronicler of Aa#put history, the Aana was

so intrepid and ferocious a warrior that at the close of his life &he

ehibited . but the fragments of a warrior. One eye was lost in a broil

with his brother, an arm in an action with the )odi king of <elhi, whilehe was cripple owing to a limb having been broken by a cannon ball.

$rom the sword or lance he counted eighty wounds on various parts of

his body.&

!s the Aana approached, Babur, who had been earlier sanguine

about the Aa#puts, recogni+ed the gravity of the threat. &Aana %anga the

pagan . . . %atanlike he threw back his head and collected an army of

1:



accursed heretics,& writes Babur. &en powerful chiefs, each the leader

of a pagan host, uprose in rebellion, as smoke rises, and linked

themselves, as though enchained, to that perverse one.& Babur calculated

the potential strength of the Aa#puts as 1CC,CCC, an army much largerthan that which (brahim )odi had deployed at anipat.

his alarmed the 6ughals. he problem, however, was not #ust of

numbers. here was also the Aa#put valour to be reckoned with. !s the

advancing Aa#puts decimated every probing contingent that Babur sent

against them, &the fierceness and valour of the pagan army& made the

6ughal troops &anious and afraid,& admits Babur. %ome of Babur's

(ndian allies, especially the !fghans who had #oined him after anipat,

now began to desert him. "ven his own men were sullen, reluctant tofight a dangerous and uncertain battle, risking all their gains in (ndia,

their rich booty, merely to defend a land they hated and did not want

to hold. hey again pleaded with Babur to return to Kabul. &2o manly

word or brave counsel was heard from any one soever,& laments Babur.

here were problems elsewhere too. &rouble and disturbance rose

on every side . . . "very day some unpleasant news reached us from

one place or another,& writes Babur. His stars, it seemed, were once

again turning malevolent. o make matters worse, 6uhammad %harif,a reputed astrologer who had #ust then arrived from Kabul, predicted

that, because of the adverse aspect of 6ars, Babur would be defeated

by .Aana %anga. his prophecy shattered the fragile morale of the

6ughal army, though Babur himself, no stranger to adversity, was not

perturbed? nye gave no ear to his wild words, made no change in our

operations, but got ready in earnest for the fight.&

On 00th $ebruary 071F, having marshalled his forces by calling in

his outlying garrisons, Babur marched out of !gra to confront theAa#puts. He advanced with great caution, taking care at every halt to

protect his camp with ditches, wooden tripods on wheels 4which

served as portable breastworks, a new innovation5 and carts #oined

together with chains and ropes of rawhide. hese precautions helped to

ease the aniety of his men. But this was not enough. Battles are notwon by troops cowering behind defences. o win, Babur would have to

ignite the blood of his warriors.

6ulling over the problem one day while out tiding, Babur came upwith a perfect solution. $or over fourteen years he had been a heavy

drinker, a grave though common infraction among the 6ughals. 2ow, in

his hour of crisis, he decided to &return to obedience&Dto win divine

favour, and, more importantly, to gain the moral authority to declare the

war against Aana %anga 4his first war against a $indu monarch5 as a #ihad,

holy war, and thus to unleash the martial fury of his men.

17



@hat followed was high drama, as Babur turned the private

renunciatory vow into a stirring sacramental rite. !s his men stood in

formation, glum and uncertain about what to epect, he faced them,

and raising his arms to invoke the blessings of !llah, ceremonially took

his pledge to renounce wine. hen, with splendid theatricality, he

called for his abundant stock of wine to be brought, poured all the

radiant rubyred li*uor on the ground in front of his aghast troops,

smashed his flagons, his gold and silver goblets, and gave away the

fragments to dervishes and the poor. ! well was ordered to be dug

where the wine was poured, and an almshouse built beside it. $or

good measure, Babur also swore not to trim his beard thereafter.He then turned to address his men. &2oblemen and soldiers

@hoever sits down to the feast of life must, before it is over, drink of

the cup of death . . . How much better, then, it is to die with honour,

than to live with infamy,& he declaimed. &he most High 3od has been

propitious to us. He has now placed us in such a crisis that if we fall

in the field, we die the death of martyrs; if we survive, we rise

victorious, the avengers of his sacred cause. )et us, therefore, with one

accord swear on 3od's Holy @ord that none of us will for a momentthink of turning his face from this warfare; or shrink from the battle

and slaughter that ensue, till his soul is separated from his body.&

he impact of these words on his men was electric= &!ll those

present, officer and retainer, great and small, took the Holy Book

#oyfully into their hands and made vow and compact to this purport,&

Babur notes with gratification. &he plan was perfect. (t worked

admirably.& he mood of the 6ughal army then swung dramatically

from dread to daredevilry. &$rom the effect of these soulinflamingwords, a fire fell into each heart,& says 6ughal chronicler 2i+amuddin

!hmad.

! <!@2 O2 0Eth 6arch, Babur reached Khanua, a small village

about forty kilometres west of !gra. here, as his army was pitching its

camp at a carefully chosen and prepared site near a low hill, he was

informed by scouts that the Aa#puts were approaching.

(t was, as at anipat, a %aturday, and it would be as lucky forBabur. he battle of Khanua was a virtual replay of the battle of

anipat, ecept that it lasted nearly double the time and was far more

fiercely contested, resulting in heavy casualties on both sides. he

battle commenced at about nine in the morning and raged on till late

evening. he decisive factor at Khanua, as at anipat, was the firepower

of the 6ughals, aimed at the enemy compacted into &one mass& by

1E



Babur turning the Aa#put flanks. 6ustafa, the Ottoman urk in charge

of the 6ughal artillery, &had the carts brought forward and broke the

ranks of pagans with matchlock and cannon,& reports Babur. !nd the

6ughal soldiers, inflamed by Babur's oration, &fought with such delightand pleasure that it was more like a time of mirth than one of war,&

notes 2i+amuddin !hmad.

(n the end the Aa#puts fled, leaving so many dead in the battlefield

that, according to Babur, the 6ughal contingents chasing them &found

no footspace without the prostrate foe.& Aana %anga himself fled, with

Babur in hot pursuit, But after a chase of about three kilometres beyond

the enemy camp, Babur peeled away, leaving it to others to follow on,

which enabled the Aana to escape. &here was a little slackness; ( oughtto have gone myself,& writes Babur. !pparently he did not want to

force his luck. 2or did he, as he would normally have done, follow up

the victory with an invasion of 6ewar, because of &little water and

much heat on the road.&

Aeturning to the battlefield, Babur ordered a pillar of severed

enemy heads to be erected on the hill beside which the battle was

fought. his was a 6ughal military rite performed after almost every

battle, to, strike terror in potential adversaries and thus to cripple theirspirit and defeat them even before the battle was fought on the ground.

By nightfall Babur returned to his camp, and there assumed the

title of 3ha+i, Holy @arrior. He then turned to 6uhammad %harif, the

astrologer who had predicted a 6ughal rout, but was now waiting to

congratulate Babur on his victory. Babur tore into him? &( poured forth

upon him a torrent of abuse.& But eventually his generosity prevailed.

&@hen ( had relieved my heart by it, although he was a selfconceited

fellow . . and an intolerable evilspeaker, yet, as he was my oldservant, ( gave him a lakh in a present, and dismissed him, commanding

him to depart from my dominions.&

1F



Black $ell the <ay

H" B!)" O$ Khanua marked the end of the travails of Babur.

here were still battles to fightDthere would always be battles to

fightDbut Babur was now indisputably the mperor of Hindustan. He

was content. he pace of his life now eased, and he gradually revertedto the relaed lifestyle of his balmy days in Kabul.

"verything interested Babur and most things delighted him. His

curiosity was boundless, and there was in him, even after all he had

had to endure in life, a charming, childlike faculty to find #oy in the

most humdrum things of everyday life. (t thrilled him, for instance, to

bum the leafy branches of holmoak which crackled as they burned; &(t

is good fun to burn it& he writes. $or him, the shining moon, the

flowering bush, the rushing stream, were all celebratory miracles.

&onight ( elected to take opium,& he writes, &because of . . . the

shining of the moon.& !gain? &On hursday at sunrise ... confection

was eaten. @hile under its influence wonderful fields of flowers were

en#oyed . . . here were flowers on all sides of the mound, yellow here,

red there, as if arranged regularly to form a setuple.& (t was with the

same #oyous wonder that he had first seen (ndia, in 07C7? &(n 2ingnahar

another world came to %iew > other grasses, other trees, other animals,

other birds, and other manners and customs of clan and horde. @e

were ama+ed, and truly there was ground for ama+ement.&

(n (ndia, after Khanua, there was only one thing that sullied

Babur's happinessDhis vow to abstain from wine. &(n truth the longing

and craving for wineparty has been infinite and endless for two years

past, so much so that sometimes the craving for wine brought me to

the verge of tears,& he wrote to Khwa#a Kalan in Kabul, and lamented?

While others repent and make vow to abstain, I have vowed to abstain, and repentant am (.

He would break his vow and revert to wine towards the end of his life.

but in the meantime he consoled himself with the pleasures of good

companionship. (n the company of friends, death is a feast,& he used

to say, *uoting a ersian proverb. He en#oyed people and delighted in



convivial parties. &here was much #oking and laughter,& he says,

recalling with pleasure a party at the house of an amir. He revelled in

clever repartee, but despised &vapid and empty& smalltalk.

O2" O$ H" enduring passions of Babur, in good times and bad, was

his love of literature. He now had the leisure to luuriate in it. (-s

library was one of his most valued possessions, which he always

carried around with him, and books were one of the treasures he

hunted for in a con*uered land. (n his memoirs, when he listed the

sovereigns and high nobles of a land, he also listed poets, musicians

and intellectuals. hey too mattered to him.He was a fastidious connoisseur of literature, and he considered it

a terrible depravity to write bad poetry. &His verse is flat and insipid,&

says he about his paternal uncle %ultan 6ahmud 6ir+a of Badakshan,

and adds? &2ot to compose is better than to compose verse such as

his.& (t greatly distressed him that his son Humayun was a negligent

writer. &hough taking trouble . . . your letter5 can be read, it is very

pu++ling, and whoever saw an enigma in prose& he once upbraided

Humayun, and advised? &hy remissness in writing seems to be due tothe thing which makes thee obscure, that is to say, to elaboration. (n

future write unaffectedly, clearly, with plain words, which saves trouble

to both writer and reader.&

Babur himself was an acclaimed writer. He wrote in urki as well as

in ersian, but with greater felicity in urki, in which he was a poet

&second only to !rnir !ll %hit.&, according to 6ir+a Haidar. Babur had

several books to his credit, prose and poetry, even a treatise on

#urisprudence and another on urki prosody. But his best known work is his autobiography, a classic in its genre.

Babur wrote a good deal after Khanua. He found it a fair consolation

for the loss of the pleasures of wine. $urther, he had a curious notion

that literature had healing powersDwriting irreverent poetry, he

believed, caused illness, while writing ennobling poetry cured it He

was, he says, once a careless versifier, stringing into verse whatever

came to his head, &good or bad, grave or #est . . . however empty and

harsh the verse might be,& but became more discriminating whilewriting Mubayyin, his poetic magnum opus. !t that time, says Babur,

&this thought pierced through my dull wits and made way into my

troubled heart, '! pity it will be if the tongue which has the treasure

of utterances so lofty as these, is wasted again on low words . ..' %ince

that time ( have refrained from satirical and #esting verse.&

2ot *uite. Babur did still occasionally relapse into frivolous

18



limeric/s>and suffered for it A few days after one such tri%ial

composition, notes )abur, &( had fe%er and dischar+e, followed by

cou+h, and I be+an to spit blood each time I cou+hed. I /new whence

my reproof came: I /new what act of mine had brou+ht this affliction

on me.

9nfortunately, very little of )abur's poetry has sur%i%ed, so his

literary reputation today rests solely on his autobio+raphy, and e%en

from this lar+e&&portions are missin+. )abur used to carry his ;ournal

with him all the time, e%en on military campai+ns, wor/in+ on it

whene%er he had a little time. (his habit of his once led to a near

disaster. $e was at that time encamped at a ri%erside, sittin+ up late in

the ni+ht, writin+. 0uddenly, a +reat storm burst o%er the camp. 0uch

a storm burst, in the inside of a moment, from the up&piled clouds of

the rainy season, and such a stiff +ale rose, that few tents were left

standin+, )abur records. I was in the audience tent, about to write:

before I could collect papers and sections, the tent came down, with its

porch, ri+ht on my head . . . 0ections and boo/ were drenched under

water and were +athered to+ether with much difficulty. <e laid them in

folds of the woollen throne&carpet, put this on the throne and on it piled

blan/ets . <e, without sleep, were busy till shoot of day dryin+ folios

and sections. It was probably in some such mishap that the missin+

sections of his memoirs were lost.

(he +reat charm of )abur's memoirs is its directness and simplicity,

its total lac/ of affectation. )abur was a candid chronicler. In this

history I ha%e held firmly to it that the truth should be reached in

e%ery matter, and that e%ery act should be recorded precisely as it

occurred, he writes. 3rom this it follows of necessity that I ha%e set

down of +ood and bad whate%er is /nown, concernin+ father and elder

brother, /insman and stran+er: of them all I ha%e set down carefully

the /nown %irtues and defects.

(his was his precept. $is practice did not always 2uite match the

hi+h ideal. )abur was writin+ about himself, with his eyes on posterity,

and he would not ha%e been human if he did not intensify the drama

of his life. )abur's descriptions of e%ents do sometimes %ary in detail

from other contemporary sources, and it cannot be assumed that his

%ersion was always ri+ht. (he discrepancies are, howe%er, minor, and

could be due to differences in perception or 2uir/s of memory.

Apart from the boo/s he wrote, )abur had to his credit se%eral

other cultural accomplishments, such as musical compositions, and the

creation of a new and distincti%e style of calli+raphy, called )aburi. )ut

his +reatest passion outside literature was +ardenin+. $e would e%en

pause in the midst of critical military campai+ns to lay out +ardens, as

@7



he did on the riverbank near %irhind in un#ab on the way to "anipat.

(n !gra, one of his first pro#ects was to build a garden comple. Later,

he laid out another garden at the lake in <aulpur, where he had a si

by si metre tank hewed out of a single mass of rock, saying, &@hen

it is finished, ( will fill it with wine.& !t %ikri, on his way back from

Khanua, he ordered an octagonal platform to be built in the middle of

the lake there, for him to repose and en;oy opium; he also loved

boating in the lake, says 3ulbadan.

Babur was a keen horticulturist. &( had plantains brought and

planted there 4in Kabul5; they did very well,& he writes. &he year

before ( had sugarcane planted there; it also did well.& (n (ndia, he

was ecstatic when the grapes and melons which he had introduced into

the 3arden of "ight aradises in !gra began to bear fruit. &o have

grapes and melons grown in this way in Hindustan filled my measure

of content,& he writes.

H(% /!!/( O$ Babur to find #oy in so many different things was

what sustained him during his years of adversity, for some facet or

other of the many facets of his personality always caught the light of the sun, whichever way the wheel of fate turned. Babur was a blessed

dilettante, not a driven, obsessed genius. @hatever he did was a

vigorous and cheerful epression of his own vigorous and cheerful self,

open and spontaneous. Babur delighted in being Babur.

!ll things fresh and new gladdened him, and he travelled around

his (ndian empire with the feisty enthusiasm of a tourist. &hey are

wonderful buildings,& he writes about the 3walior fort comple, though

he found the rooms dark and airless, and the palace itself &heavy andunsymmetrical&. (n the valley beneath the fort, he visited the 9ain

shrines alongside the lake, where, he notes, &the idols are shewn *uite

naked without covering the privities ... 2ot a bad place . the idols

are its defect. L for my part, ordered them destroyed.& He also visited

the nearby Hindu temples, but says nothing about destroying the idols

thereDit seems that it was his aesthetic sensibilities that were offended

by the 9ain idols, not his religious sentiments.

he tours of Babur had a political purpose too? he was familiari+inghimself with his empire, its land, its people. @hatever else his interests

and activities, Babur always had one eye cocked vigilantly on state

security. On that he would never rela. &2o bondage e*uals that of

sovereignty,& he would write sternly to Humayun when that easygoing

prince wanted to &retire& from government. &Aetirement matches not

with rule.&

@1



/uriously, despite all the attention he gave to matters of the state,

and despite his scholarship in #urisprudence, Babur did not set up even

a rudimentary administrative system in (ndia. his failure cannot be

eplained away by the fact that he ruled (ndia only for less than fiveyears or that during that time he was continually engaged in wars, for

under virtually the same circumstances, %her %hah 4the !fghan chief

who later epelled Babur's successor from (ndia5 set up a comple,

efficient and enduring administrative system.

But then, %her %hah was of the land; he knew its ways, and had

only to overhaul and energi+e the prevailing system. Babur was an

alien in (ndia, and he did not have the time to familiari+e himself with

local traditions. Besides, his administrative attitudes were conditionedby his eperience in turbulent !fghanistan, which could be ruled only

by saifi 4sword5, not galami 4pen5, as Babur puts it.

!ll that Babur did in (ndia by way of administrative action was to

parcel out his domain among his amirs, for them to govern their fiefs

as they pleased. He did not even have a regular system of revenue

collection. Once, in October 071G, when he needed fundsDhe was short

of funds in (ndia, as he had given away virtually all the plunder he had

gatheredDhe even had to re*uisition contributions from his arnirs,ordering &that each stipendiary should drop into the royal treasury

thirty in every hundred of his allowance, to be used for war materiel and appliances, for e*uipment, for powder, and for the pay of gunners

and matchlockmen.&

his was an unusual procedure, presumably adopted to meet some

emergency. he primary source of revenue for Babur in (ndia was

pillage. !s he candidly states in his memoirs, raids were often made

specifically to sei+e plunderDfor instance, he notes that he once decided,choosing from different alternatives, to march westward from !gra

because that was where there was &treasure helpful for the army&. he

6ughals lived by war. 2ot to wage war was not to live, or at least not

to have the means of livelihood.

(t certainly was a failure of Babur that he did not make the

transition from the ways of nomadic monarchy to those of a settled

empire. !s %her %hah observed, the 6ughals &have no order or

discipline, and ... their kings ... do not personally superintend thegovernment, but leave all the affairs of the %tate to their nobles and

ministers . . . hese grandees act on corrupt motive in every case.&

B!/K IN !3A! after the battle of Khanua, Babur rewarded his men

suitably, distributed fiefs among his nobles, and, as he had promised

@5



he would, granted leave to those who wanted to return to Kabul.

Humayun was dispatched to govern Badakshan, which had fallen to

Babur in 071C. hen, as the monsoon was imminent, he sent the

remaining officers to their fiefs, to get some wellearned rest and to ree*uip their contingents. Babur himself remained in !gra, in the 3arden

of "ight aradises, till Aamadan, and then moved to %ikri, because, he

says, he did not want to break his custom of not holding the Aamadan

feast in the same place for two successive years.

@hen the monsoon ended Babur set out on his campaigns again,

this time against 6edini Aai of /handeri in northeastern 6alwa. Here

for the first time he came across the macabre Aa#put rite of #auhar, in

which, faced with certain defeat, women and children immolated

themselves or were slaughtered by their men, who then slew each

other or rushed out naked to fight and dieDto preserve their honour.

he Aa#puts kept their honour; Babur took the fort.

6eanwhile the !fghans were on the move again east of !gra, and

though they initially scattered without fighting when Babur turned on

them menacingly, they regrouped again soon after, this time under the

command of %ultan 6ahmud )och, the brother of (brahim )odi, who

had set himself up as the king of Bihar. Babur then launched a second

eastern campaign, and in a battle fought at the confluence of the 3anga

and the 3haghara, near atna. on Eth 6ay 0718, he decisively routed

the !fghans.

he battle of atna was Babur's last ma#or military campaign. By

then, his attention had once again turned to developments beyond the

Hindu Kush; in fact, even while he was marching against the !fghans,

his eyes were on /entral !sia, as he had received reports of -+beg

ersian clashes in Khurasan. !n old gleam now returned to Baburis

eyesDmaybe the imurid lands could yet be recovered, he thought,

and ordered Humayun in Badakshan to. #oin the fray. &hank 3od now

is your time to risk life and slash swords,& he wrote. &2eglect not the

work chance has brought He grips the world who hastens.& Babur

then made plans for himself to return to Kabul, to be close to the scene

of action. &6atters are coming to some settlement in Hindustan; there

is hope .. . that the work here will soon be arranged,& he wrote to

Khwa#a Kalan. &his work brought to order, 3od willing, my start will

be made at once.&

2othing came of those plans. (n /entral !sia, the ti+begs recovered

their initiative, the ersians retreated, and Humayun aborted his

campaign. Babur was not destined to see Kabul again. However,

towards the dose of 0718, he did proceed as far as )ahore, and spent

a couple of months there. %urprisingly, he did not make the short hop

>>



from there to Kabul, which he so passionately yearned to visit again.

(nstead, he returned to !gra. His memoirs do not tell whyDthey end

abruptly in midsentence on Fth %eptember 0718. "ven the entries for

the previous several months are sketchy. %omething was amiss.

B!B-A H!< 2O been in good health for *uite some time. <espite

his phenomenal physical vitality, he had always been prone to illness,

and at least once, in 0:8G, when he was fifteen, was so critically ill that

his life was despaired of. His memoirs are dotted with accounts of his

numerous ailments. &(t was a strange sort of illness,& writes Babur

about a bout of fever, &for whenever with much trouble ( had beenawakened, my eyes closed again in sleep. (n four or five days ( got

*uite well.& On his final (ndian epedition, as soon he crossed the

mountains he fell ill. &hat evening ( had fever and discharge which

led on to cough, and every time ( coughed, ( spat blood,& he notes. (n

(ndia, because of the oppressive climate and the rigours of incessant

wars, he was ill *uite often, especially in the last couple of years of his life

Dhe suffered from recurrent fever, boils, diarrhoea, sciatica,

discharges of the ears and spitting of blood.!ma+ingly, despite his ill health, even late in his life Babur could

perform physical feats from which a much younger man would have

flinched. !t fortysi we find him euberantly swimming across the

3anga. &( swam the 3anga river, counting every stroke,& he writes, &(

crossed with thirtythree, then, without resting, swam back. ( hadswum the other rivers, 3anga had remained to do.& %till, age had

begun to tell on him. He suffered from ennui as much as from ill

health. $or all his vigorous en#oyment of life, Babur had a renunciatorystreak in him, a predilection for mysticism. &( am a king but yet the

slave of dervishes,& he used to say. He had led a full life, had seen

everything, done everything, and now he was tired. 0ometimes he

went into a deep depression and tal/ed of becomin+ a hermit. !y

heart is bowed down by ruling and reigning,& he said. &( will make

over the kingdom to Humayun.&

His iron will began to falter. He returned to wine. !nd, though he

had not till then shown any great fondness for the company of women,he now became attached to two /aucasian slave girls, 3ulnar and 2arg

ul, whom he had received as a gift from %hah ahmasp of ersia a

couple of years earlier. he death of an infant son, !lwar, at this time

upset him greatly. He missed his children, and kept asking to see

Hindal, his youngest son, who was away in Kabul. here were signs of

senility. His mind often wandered. He took little interest in government.

>:



&He passed his time in .. . company with 6ughal companions and

friends, in pleasure and en#oyment and carousing, in the presence of

enchanting dancing girls with rosy cheeks, who sang tunes and displayed

their accomplishments,& adgar reports, &6ir Khalifa . . possessingthe chief authority, managed the government, and his decrees were like

those of the %ultan himself.&

(n that perpleing situation, Humayun abruptly returned to (ndia

from Badakshan without royal permission, a serious breach of propriety. (t

is likely that he had come to know of his father's condition. (t could also

be that he had heard the rumour that 6ir Khalifa was plotting a

succession coupDthough none of Humayun's contemporaries mentions

such a conspiracy, the writers of the net generation do; but if indeedthere was such a plot, it fi++led out on the arrival of Humayun in !gra.

Babur upbraided Humayun for leaving Badakshan without

permission, but soon forgave him. Humayun, though somewhat

eccentric, and not as ambitious or energetic as Babur would have liked

him to be, was nevertheless a lovable and highly cultivated prince,

whose company Babur en#oyed hugely. %ays !bul $a+i, &he "mperor

many times declared that Humayun was an incomparable companion.&

!fter spending a few days with his father in !gra, Humayun leftfor %ambhal, his fief near <elhi, and Babur himself with his wives

moved to his gardens at <aulpur. here he presently received an

urgent message from Humayun's camp? &Humayun 6ir+a is ill and in

an etraordinary state. Her highness the Begum should come at once to

<elhi, for the 6ir+a is much prostrated.& Babur, says 3ulbadan, was

desolated by the news. @hen Humayun's mother, 6aham Begum,

consoled him, saying, &<o not be troubled about my son. ou are a

(cing? what griefs have you ou have other sons. ( sorrow because (have only this one,& Babur said, &6aham, although ( have ether sons,

( love none as ( love your Humayun. ( crave that this cherished child

may have his heart's desire and live long, and ( desire the kingdom for

him and not for others, because he has not his e*ual in distinction.&

Babur immediately returned to !gra and ordered Humayun to be

brought by boat from <elhi to !gra for treatment, but by the time the

prince reached !gra, he was delirious and critically ill,

Only god could save Humayun, it seemed. !nd god, an amirsuggested, could be induced to save the prince if one of Humayun's

valued possessions was offered as a propitiatory oblation. Babur sei+ed

the thought, but re#ected the suggestion to offer a great diamond

belonging to Humayun. (nstead, he decided to offer his own life,

characteristically placing sentiment above treasure and contending that

it was the father's life that a son valued most. !s 6ughal chroniclers

>7

emperors of the peacock throne - abraham eraly -

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