Of
men would hardly be persuaded, that as long as he kept his father,
Chah-Jean (Shah Jehan), prisoner in the Fort of Agra, he would think
it safe to be at such a distance. Yet, notwithstanding, we have found
that reason of State hath given place to that of health, or rather,
to the intrigues of Rauchenara Begum, who was wild to breathe a more
free air than that of the Seraglio, and to have her turn in showing
herself to a gallant and magnificent army, as her sister had formerly
done during the reign of Chah-Jean."
The Emperor appears to have made preparations on this occasion for
a voyage of a year and a half.
He had with him, not only thirty-five thousand horse, or thereabouts,
and ten thousand foot, but also "both his artilleries, the great or
heavy, and the small or lighter.
For the carriage of the Emperor's baggage and stores, no less than
30,000 coolies were required, although, for fear of starving that
little kingdom of Kachemere," he only carried with him the least
number of ladies and cavaliers he could manage, and as few elephants
and mules as would suffice for the convenience of the former.
Crossing the Peer Punjal, some of the ladies of the Seraglio
unfortunately paid the penalty of their too ardent desires to show
themselves off to "a gallant and magnificent army," for "one of the
elephants fell back upon him that was next, and he upon the next, and
so on to the fifteenth, so that they did all tumble to the bottom of
the precipice. It was the good fortune of those poor women, however,
that there were but three or four of them killed; but the fifteen
elephants remained upon the place." The historian rather ungallantly
adds, "When these bulky masses do once fall under THOSE VAST BURDENS
they never rise again, though the way be ever so fair."
On reaching the summit of the pass after this accident, the expedition
appears to have encountered more misfortunes, for "there blew a wind so
cold that all people shook and ran away, especially the silly Indians,
who never had seen ice or snow, or felt such cold."
Aurungzib appears to have remained three months in the valley on
this occasion.
After his death there is no mention of his successors having visited
Cashmere, and the local governors became in consequence, in common
with those of other provinces of the tottering Mogul throne, little
short of independent rulers. Under the tender mercies of most of these,
the unfortunate Cashmeeries appear to have fared but badly.
In 1745, however, a series of misfortunes from another source burst
forth upon the inhabitants of the happy valley. A dreadful famine
first broke out, during which it is said that slaves sold for four
pice (three half-pence) each.