A Biographical Dictionary of the Celebrated Women of Every Age and Country/Mher-ul-Nissa
MHER-UL-NISSA, Wife of the Mogul Emperor Jehangire,
Was the daughter of Chaja Aiass, a native of the Western Tartary, who left that country to push his fortune in Hindostan, the usual resourse of the needy Tartars of the north. He left home privately, with only one sorry horse, and a very small sum of money, the produce of his effects. Placing his wife upon the horse, he walked by her side. She happened to be pregnant, and could ill endure the fatigues of so great a journey. This scanty pittance of money was soon expended, they had even subsisted some days upon charity, when they arrived on the skirts of the great solitudes, which separate Tartary from the dominions of the family of Timur, in India. No house was there to cover them from the inclemency of the weather; no hand to relieve their wants. To return was certain misery; to proceed, apparent destruction. They had fasted three days, and to complete their distress a daughter was born to them, No travellers appeared, night was coming on, the place was the haunt of wild beasts. Chaja Aiass, in this extremity, having placed his wife on the horse, found himself so much exhausted he could hardly move. To carry the child was impossible; the mother could not even hold herself fast on the horse. A long contest began between humanity and necessity: the latter prevailed, and they agreed to expose the child on the highway. The infant, covered with leaves, was left under a tree, and the disconsolate parents proceeded in tears. But when they had advanced about a mile from the place, and the eyes of the mother could no longer distinguish the tree under which she had left her daughter, she gave way to grief, and throwing herself from the horse on the ground, exclaimed, "my child! my child!" She endeavoured to raise herself, but had not strength to move. Aiass was pierced to the heart. He prevailed upon his wife to sit down. He promised to bring her the infant. He returned to the place; but no sooner had his eyes reached the child, than he was almost struck dead with horror. A black snake was coiled round it; and Aiass believed he beheld him extending his fatal jaws to devour the infant. The father rushed forward. The serpent, alarmed at his vociferation, retired into the hollow tree. He took up his daughter unhurt, and returned to the mother; and, as he was informing her of the wonderful escape of the infant, some travellers appeared, and soon relieved them from all their wants. They proceeded gradually to Lahore, where the Emperor Akbar kept his court. Here he had the good fortune to find a distant relation of his, one of that monarch's principal omrahs, who made him his secretary; and his ability and diligence being remarked by the emperor, he soon rose to be high-treasurer of the empire.
The daughter who had been born to him in the desert, received, soon after his arrival at Lahore, the name of Mher-ul-Nissa, or the sun of women. She had some right to the appellation; for in beauty she excelled all the ladies of the East. She was educated with the utmost care and attention. In music, in dancing, poetry, and painting, she had no equal among her sex. Her disposition was volatile, her wit lively and satirical, her spirit lofty and uncontrouled. Selim, the prince royal, visited her father one day, and the ambitious Mher-ul-Nissa aspired to captivate him. The ladies, according to custom, being introduced after the public entertainment was over, she sung and displayed all her accomplishments. The prince was in raptures; and, her veil dropping, the sight of her face completed the conquest.
She had been betrothed by her father to Shere Afkun, a Turcomanian nobleman of great renown. The prince applied to his father, who refused to commit an act of injustice, though in favour of the heir of his throne, and she became the wife of Afkun. During the life of the emperor, the prince durst make no open attack upon his fortunate rival; but the courtiers worshipped the rising sun: Shere Afkun became disgusted, and retired into the province of Bengal, where he obtained from the suba of that country the superintendance of the district of Burdwan. From thence, however, he was recalled on the death of Akber. Selim was afraid to deprive the omrah forcibly of his wife; and Shere, inflexible in his determination to retain her. Naturally high spirited and proud, and of uncommon valour, having gained his name by killing a lion, he could not yield to indignity and public shame.
Selim, or rather Jehangire, for he took that name on his accession to the throne, was at Delhi, when he recalled Shere Afkun, and received him graciously; who, naturally open and generous, suspected not the emperor's intentions; time, he thought, had erased the memory of Mher-ul-Nissa from his mind. But he was deceived, the monarch was resolved to remove his rival; but the means he used were at once foolish and disgraceful. He appointed a hunt, and ordered the haunt of an enormous tiger to be explored. The ground was surrounded on all sides, and the party began to move towards the cave. The tiger was roused; and the emperor proposed, that one amongst them should encounter him singly. Three of the omrahs offered; but Shere Afkun, ashamed to be outdone, offered to fight him without any weapons, and though the emperor made a shew of dissuading him, the combat fell to his share, and he conquered. But scarce was he recovered from his wounds, when a plan was laid to tread him to death by an elephant, as if by accident, but this again was foiled; and whether the emperor felt remorse for his behaviour, or that his passion for Mher-ul-Nissa was lessened, no attempt was made for the space of six months against the life of Shere, who retired to the capital of Bengal. But the designs of the monarch were no secret to Kuttub, suba of Bengal, who, to ingratiate himself with the emperor, though not it is believed by his orders, hired forty ruffians to attack and murder Shere in his bed. But this villainous plan was rendered abortive, chiefly by his own courage: and Shere retired front the capital of Bengal, to his old residence at Burdwan. There he hoped to live in peace and obscurity, with his beloved Mher-ul-Nissa. But Kuttub had been rewarded for his attempt; and, eager still further to please the emperor, he resolved to make the tour of the dependant provinces. In his rout he came to Burdwan; and in a scuffle, occasioned by one of his pikemen intentionally affronting Shere, both he and the latter were slain.
Mher-ul-Nissa seemed not to feel so much sorrow as she ought; ambition stifling her feelings: for in vindication of her apparent insensibility, she pretended to follow the injunctions of her deceased husband; alleging that Shere, foreseeing his own fall by Jehangire, had conjured her to yield to the wishes of that monarch without hesitation. The reasons which she gave for this improbable request were, that he was afraid his own exploits would sink into oblivion, without they were connected with the remarkable event of giving an empress to India.
Here, however, her ambition received a very unexpected check. She was sent, with all imaginable care, to Delhi, and received kindly by the emperor's mother; but Jehangire refused to see her. He gave orders that she should be shut up in one of the worst apartments of the seraglio; and allowed her but fourteen anas (about two shillings) a day, for the subsistence of herself and some female slaves. Whether his mind was tormented by remorse, or then fixed upon another object, authors do not agree. But the emperor's mother, who was deeply interested for Mher-ul-Nissa, could not prevail upon her son to see her; and, when she spoke of the widow of Shere, he turned away in silence.
Mher-ul-Nissa was a woman of haughty spirit, and could not brook this treatment. She gave herself up for some time, to grief, abundantly, and perhaps really, for the loss of her husband; for her ambitious hopes thus unexpectedly blasted, she could not but reflect with regret on a brave man, whose sufferings and whose death she was passively the occasion of. But at length she was reconciled to her condition, and an expedient offered itself to her active mind, to raise her own reputation, and to support herself and slaves with more decency, than the scanty pittance allowed her would admit. She called forth her invention and taste, in working some admirable pieces of tapestry and embroidery, in painting silks with exquisite delicacy, and in inventing female ornaments of every kind. These articles were carried by her slaves, to the different squares of the royal seraglio, and to the harams of the great officers of the empire. The inventions of Mher-ul-Nissa excelled so much in their kind, that they were brought with the greatest avidity. Nothing was fashionable among the ladies of Delhi and Agra, but the work of her hands. She accumulated, by these means, a considerable sum of money, with which she repaired and beautified her apartments, and clothed her slaves in the richest tissues and embroideries, while she herself wore a very plain, and simple dress.
In this situation she remained four years, without once having seen the emperor. Her fame reached his ears from every apartment in the seraglio. Curiosity, at length, overcame his resolution. He resolved to surprise her; and, communicating his resolution to none, he suddenly entered her apartments, where he found every thing so elegant and magnificent, that he was struck with amazement. But the greatest ornament of the whole was Mher-ul-Nissa herself: she lay, half reclined on an embroidered sopha, in a plain dress. Her slaves sat in a circle around her, at work, attired in rich brocades. She slowly arose, in manifest confusion; and received the emperor with the usual ceremony of touching first the ground, then her forehead with her right hand. She did not utter one word; but stood with her eyes fixed on the ground, while Jehangire remained silently admiring her stature, grace, and beauty.
As soon as he recovered from his confusion, he sat down on the sopha, and requested her to sit by his side. The first question he asked, was, "why the difference between the appearance of Mher-ul-Nissa and her slaves?" She very shrewdly replied, "those born servitude must dress as it shall please those whom they serve. These are my servants: and I alleviate the burden of bondage by every indulgence in my power. But I, that am your slave, O emperor of the Moguls, must dress according to your pleasure, and not my own." Though this answer was a kind of sarcasm on his behaviour, it was so pertinent and well timed that it greatly pleased Jehangire. His former affection returned, with all its violence; and, the next day, public orders were issued to prepare a magnificent festival, for his nuptials with Mher-ul-Nissa. Her name was also changed, by an edict, into Noor-Maml, or Light of the Seraglio. Tm emperor's former favourites vanished before her; and, during the rest of his reign, she bore the chief sway in all the affairs of the empire.
The great power of Noor-Mahil appeared, for the first time, in the immediate advancement of her family. Her father, who, in the latter end of the reign of Acbar, had been treasures of the empire, was raised to the office of absolute visier and first minister; her two brothers, to the first rank of nobility. Her numerous relations poured in from Tartary, upon hearing the fortune of the house of Aiass; some of them were gratified with high employments, all with lucrative ones. The writers of Hindostan remark, that no family ever rose so suddenly, or so deservedly, as that of Chaja Aiass; for they were not dazzled by their sudden greatness, but acted with probity, honour, and moderation; and the name of her father, in particular, is still remembered in Hindostan with affection and gratitude. The empire was a gainer by the estrangement of Jehangire from public affairs; for the new visier was an enlightened patriot, and indefatigable in promoting every useful art, and the strictest administration of justice.
In the East, glory is so connected with power and magnificence, that an ambitious mind, even under the influence of a good understanding, can see nothing else to aim at. Noor-Mahil introduced such luxury and magnificence, that expensive pageants and sumptuous entertainments became the whole business of the court. The voice of music never ceased by day in the streets; the sky was enlightened at night by fireworks and illuminations; her name was joined with that of the emperor on the current coin; she was the spring, which moved the machine of state; her family took place immediately after the princes of the blood, and were admitted into the most secret apartments of the seraglio. She for the most part ruled the emperor with absolute sway: an edict was issued, to change her name from Noor-Mahil to that of Noor-Jehan, or Light of the World. To distinguish her from the other wives of the emperor, she was always addressed by the title of Shahe, or empress.
On the death of her father, about 1627, the press was inconsolable. She proposed, at once, as a proof of her affection and magnificence, to perpetuate his memory in a monument of solid silver; but, being convinced so precious a metal would not be the most lasting means of transmitting his memory to posterity, she dropt her purpose, and a magnificent fabric of stone was erected in Agra. He was succeeded by her brother, whose daughter Shaw Jehân, one of the princes, had lately married, and who was the mother of the famous, but unworthy, Aurengzebe. The ambitious designs of Shaw Jehân, though hid with great cunning, were discovered by the penetrating eye of the empress, who, warning the emperor of him, he was convinced, though too late to be sufficiently aware of the baseness of his disposition. She is said, by opposite writers, to have had another cause also for decyphering his character. Shariar, the fourth son of Jehangire, was married to her daughter, by her former husband, and she wished so fix the succession on him. She is said to have obtained a promise to this effect from the emperor; and this is alledged as a reason for the revolt raised by Shaw Jehân. It is certain, at least, that this revolt caused the emperor to punish his obstinately rebellious son, by excluding him; and the complaints of the latter, against Noor-Jehân, only found credit with the superficial; since he had already put to death a brother in cold blood. After much bloodshed, and many turns of fortune, this son was subdued and pardoned.
Mohabat, a brave man, to whom this fortunate conclusion of the war was in a great degree owing, was at first greatly caressed by the emperor; but having many enemies, among whom had long been the sultana and her brother, one Chan Chanan, who imputed the death of his son to Mohabat, accused him of high treason; and the accusation getting to the emperor's ears, who was naturally suspicious, he enquired into it, and finding some things which gave colour to the report, forgot the services of that general, and ordered him to court. He went, but with five thousand men to protect him. He was ordered to account, before he presented himself to the emperor, for some part of his conduct; and enraged at the affront, sent his son-in-law to complain of it. But the emperor sent the young man back with great indignity. Determined to secure himself, and to be revenged, Mohabat surprised Jehangire in his tent, took him prisoner; and, though with a show of respect, made him obey his wishes implicitly.
The sultana had made her escape in the mean time; but, Mohabat, who considered her as partly the source of his disgrace, determined to get her in his power. She was the messenger of the disaster to her brother, and consulted with him on the properest means of rescuing the emperor, whose attendants she vehemently accused of negligence and cowardice. The emperor sent them word to desist; but, as he was under the influence of Mohabat, who still held him prisoner, they did not think themselves obliged to obey. They had to fight the enemy, at a great disadvantage. The sultana was not a tame spectator of the battle. Mounted on an elephant, she plunged into the stream with her daughter by hex side. The young lady was wounded in the arm; but her mother pressed forward. Three of her elephant drivers were successively killed; and the elephant received three wounds in the trunk. She, in the mean time, emptied four quivers of arrows on the enemy, whose soldiers pressed into the stream to seize her; but the master of her household, mounting the elephant, turned him away, and carried her out of the river, notwithstanding her threats and commands. The imperialists behaved with great gallantry, and gained ground, but were in the end repulsed with great slaughter. They dispersed, and the sultana found means to escape to Lahore, Mohabat invited the visier to the camp, with assurances of safety, but he would not trust him; with Noor-Jehân he was more successful. She was scarcely arrived at Lahore, when she received letters from the emperor. He acquainted her that he was treated with respect by Mohabat, and that matters were amicably settled between them. He conjured her, therefore, as she regarded his peace and safety, to lay aside all hostile preparations, and to follow him to Cabul, where of his own free choice he directed his march. Noor-Jehân did not long hesitate. When she arrived, troops were sent out by Mohabat, by way of doing her honour. But they were her keepers, and not her guards; they surrounded her tent, and watched her motions. Having got her in his power, Mohabat soon, threw off the mask, and accused her publickly of treason. He affirmed, that she had conspired against the emperor, by estranging from him the hearts of his subjects; that her haughtiness was the source of public calamities, her malignity the ruin of many individuals; that the most cruel and unwarrantable actions had been done, from her capricious orders in every part of the empire; that she had even extended her views to the throne, by favouring the succession of Sharlar, under whose feeble administration she hoped to govern India at pleasure. He therefore insisted that she should be made an example of. "You, who are emperor of the Moguls!" said he to Jehangire, "whom we look upon as something more than human, ought to follow the example of God, who has no respect to persons."
Jehangire felt his situation, and signed the warrant for her death.—The dreadful message was delivered to the sultana; she heard it without emotion, "Imprisoned sovereigns," said she, "lose their right to life with their freedom; but permit me for once to see the emperor, and to bathe with my tears the hand that has sealed my doom." She was brought before her husband, in the presence of Mohabat. When in his sight, Jehangire was again sensible of the charms which lost their force in absence. Her beauty shone with additional lustre through her sorrow. She uttered not one word. Jehangire burst into tears; "will you not spare this woman, Mohabat?" said he, "you see how she weeps." Mohabat answered, "The emperor of the Moguls should never ask in vain." The guards retired from her, at a wave of his hand; and she was restored that instant to her former attendants.
Mohabat now had all but the outward pomp of power; and, under the name of the emperor, who, seemed to have forgotten all resentment, governed the kingdom for six months; but Noor-Jehân was busied in schemes, which she concealed even from his penetrating eyes. He was attacked, in the city of Cabul, one morning, when he was coming to pay his respects to the emperor. In revenge, he blocked up the city; and the principal inhabitants laying all the blame on the rabble, came out in the most suppliant manner to Mohabat. Jehangire, who disclaimed all knowledge of it, interceded for them, and only the most notorious ringleaders were punished. This project was defeated, but he determined to resign his power; and, after obtaining the most solemn promises of oblivion from the emperor, he did so. But he had gone too far lo retreat. The weak forget, but the haughty never forgive indignities. The sultana kept fresh in her memory her disgrace, and remembered her danger. She applied to Jehangire for his immediate death. "A man," said she, "who is so daring as to seize the person of his sovereign, is a dangerous subject. The lustre of royalty must be diminished in the eyes of the people, whilst he who pulled his prince from the throne is permitted to kneel before it with feigned allegiance." Jehangire was shocked at her proposal, and commanded her to be silent.
She appeared to acquiesce; but, from fears and injuries, Mohabat was driven again into rebellion, and the emperor dying during the contest, we hear no more of Noor-Jehân.