The Bābur-nāma in English (Memoirs of Bābur)
attack was being made on the other side of the town, the men attached to
these posts were not on guard but had scattered to their quarters or to
the bazar for necessary matters of service and servants' work. Only the
begs were at their posts, with one or two of the populace. Qūch Beg and
Mūhammad-qulī and Shāh Ṣufī and one other brave did very well and
boldly. Some Aūzbegs were on the ramparts, some were coming up, when
these four men arrived at a run, dealt them blow upon blow, and, by
energetic drubbing, forced them all down and put them to flight. Qūch
Beg did best; this was his out-standing and approved good deed; twice
during this siege he got his hand into the work. Qarā _Barlās_ had been
left alone in the Needle-makers' Gate; he also held out well to the end.
Qūtlūq Khwāja and Qul-naẕar Mīrzā were also at their posts in the
Bleaching-ground Gate; they held out well too, and charged the foe in
his rear.
Another time Qāsim Beg led his braves out through the [Sidenote: Fol.
93b.] Needle-makers' Gate, pursued the Aūzbegs as far as Khwāja Kafsher,
unhorsed some and returned with a few heads.
It was now the time of ripening rain but no-one brought new corn
into the town. The long siege caused great privation to the
towns-people;[562] it went so far that the poor and destitute began to
eat the flesh of dogs and asses and, as there was little grain for the
horses, people fed them on leaves. Experience shewed that the leaves
best suiting were those of the mulberry and elm (_qarā-yīghāch_). Some
people scraped dry wood and gave the shavings, damped, to their horses.
For three or four months Shaibāq Khān did not come near the fort but had
it invested at some distance and himself moved round it from post to
post. Once when our men were off their guard, at mid-night, the enemy
came near to the Turquoise [Sidenote: Fol. 94.] Gate, beat his drums and
flung his war-cry out. I was in the College, undressed. There was great
trepidation and anxiety. After that they came night after night,
disturbing us by drumming and shouting their war-cry.
Although envoys and messengers had been sent repeatedly to all sides and
quarters, no help and reinforcement arrived from any-one. No-one had
helped or reinforced me when I was in strength and power and had
suffered no sort of defeat or loss; on what score would any-one help me
now? No hope in any-one whatever recommended us to prolong the siege.
The old saying was that to hold a fort there must be a head, two hands
and two legs, that is to say, the Commandant is the head; help and
reinforcement coming from two quarters are the two arms and the food and
water in the fort are the two legs. While we looked for help from those
round about, their thoughts were elsewhere. That brave and experienced
ruler, Sl. Ḥusain Mīrzā, gave us not even the help of an encouraging
message, but none-the-less he sent Kamālu'd-dīn Ḥusain _Gāzur-gāhī_[563]
as an envoy to Shaibāq Khān.
(_i. Taṃbal's proceedings in Farghāna._)[564]
(This year) Taṃbal marched from Andijān to near Bīsh-kīnt.[565] Aḥmad
Beg and his party, thereupon, made The Khān move out against him. The
two armies came face to face near [Sidenote: Fol. 94b.] Lak-lakān and
the Tūrāk Four-gardens but separated without engaging. Sl. Maḥmūd was
not a fighting man; now when opposed to Taṃbal, he shewed want of
courage in word and deed. Aḥmad Beg was unpolished[566] but brave and
well-meaning. In his very rough way, he said, 'What's the measure of
this person, Taṃbal? that you are so tormented with fear and fright
about him. If you are afraid to look at him, bandage your eyes before
you go out to face him.'
907 AH.—JULY 17TH. 1501 TO JULY 7TH. 1502 AD.[567]
(_a. Surrender of Samarkand to Shaibānī._)
The siege drew on to great length; no provisions and supplies came in
from any quarter, no succour and reinforcement from any side. The
soldiers and peasantry became hopeless and, by ones and twos, began to
let themselves down outside[568] the walls and flee. On Shaibāq Khān's
hearing of the distress in the town, he came and dismounted near the
Lovers'-cave. I, in turn, went to Malik-muḥammad Mīrzā's dwellings in
Low-lane, over against him. On one of those days, Khwāja Ḥusain's
brother, Aūzūn Ḥasan[569] came into the town with 10 or 15 of his
men,—he who, as has been told, had been the cause of Jahāngīr Mīrzā's
rebellion, of my exodus from Samarkand (903 AH.—March 1498 AD.) and,
again! of what an amount of sedition and [Sidenote: Fol. 95.]
disloyalty! That entry of his was a very bold act.[570]
The soldiery and townspeople became more and more distressed. Trusted
men of my close circle began to let themselves down from the ramparts
and get away; begs of known name and old family servants were amongst
them, such as Pīr Wais, Shaikh Wais and Wais _Lāgharī_.[571] Of help
from any side we utterly despaired; no hope was left in any quarter; our
supplies and provisions were wretched, what there was was coming to an
end; no more came in. Meantime Shaibāq Khān interjected talk of
peace.[572] Little ear would have been given to his talk of peace, if
there had been hope or food from any side. It had to be! a sort of peace
was made and we took our departure from the town, by the Shaikh-zāda's
Gate, somewhere about midnight.
(_b. Bābur leaves Samarkand._)
I took my mother Khānīm out with me; two other women-folk went too, one
was Bīshka (var. Peshka)-i-Khalīfa, the other, Mīnglīk _Kūkūldāsh_.[573]
At this exodus, my elder sister, Khān-zāda Begīm fell into Shaibāq
Khān's hands.[574] In the darkness of that night we lost our way[575]
and wandered about amongst the main irrigation channels of Soghd. At
shoot of dawn, after a hundred difficulties, we got past Khwāja Dīdār.
At the Sunnat Prayer we scrambled up the rising-ground of Qarā-būgh.
[Sidenote: Fol. 95b.] From the north slope of Qarā-būgh we hurried on
past the foot of Judūk village and dropped down into Yīlān-aūtī. On the
road I raced with Qāsim Beg and Qaṃbar-`alī (the Skinner); my horse was
leading when I, thinking to look at theirs behind, twisted myself round;
the girth may have slackened, for my saddle turned and I was thrown on
my head to the ground. Although I at once got up and remounted, my brain
did not steady till the evening; till then this world and what went on
appeared to me like things felt and seen in a dream or fancy. Towards
afternoon we dismounted in Yīlān-aūtī, there killed a horse, spitted
and roasted its flesh, rested our horses awhile and rode on. Very weary,
we reached Khalīla-village before the dawn and dismounted. From there it
was gone on to Dīzak.
In Dīzak just then was Ḥāfiẓ Muḥ. _Dūldāī's_ son, T̤āhir. There, in
Dīzak, were fat meats, loaves of fine flour, plenty of sweet melons and
abundance of excellent grapes. From what privation we came to such
plenty! From what stress to what repose!
From fear and hunger rest we won (_amānī tāptūq_);
A fresh world's new-born life we won (_jahānī tāptūq_).
From out our minds, death's dread was chased [Sidenote: Fol. 96.]
(_rafa` būldī_);
From our men the hunger-pang kept back (_dafa` būldī_).[576]
Never in all our lives had we felt such relief! never in the whole
course of them have we appreciated security and plenty so highly. Joy is
best and more delightful when it follows sorrow, ease after toil. I have
been transported four or five times from toil to rest and from hardship
to ease.[577] This was the first. We were set free from the affliction
of such a foe and from the pangs of hunger and had reached the repose of
security and the relief of abundance.
(_c. Bābur in Dikh-kat._)
After three or four days of rest in Dīzak, we set out for Aūrā-tīpā.
Pashāghar is a little[578] off the road but, as we had occupied it for
some time (904 AH.), we made an excursion to it in passing by. In
Pashāghar we chanced on one of Khānīm's old servants, a teacher[579] who
had been left behind in Samarkand from want of a mount. We saw one
another and on questioning her, I found she had come there on foot.
Khūb-nigār Khānīm, my mother Khānīm's younger sister[580] already must
have bidden this transitory world farewell; for they let Khānīm and me
know of it in Aūrā-tīpā. My father's mother also must have died in
Andijān; this too they let us [Sidenote: Fol. 96b.] know in
Aūrā-tīpā.[581] Since the death of my grandfather, Yūnas Khān (892 AH.),
Khānīm had not seen her (step-)mother or her younger brother and
sisters, that is to say, Shāh Begīm, Sl. Maḥmūd Khān, Sulṯān-nīgār
Khānīm and Daulat-sulṯān Khānīm. The separation had lasted 13 or 14
years. To see these relations she now started for Tāshkīnt.
After consulting with Muḥ. Ḥusain Mīrzā, it was settled for us to winter
in a place called Dikh-kat[582] one of the Aūrā-tīpā villages. There I
deposited my impedimenta (_aūrūq_); then set out myself in order to
visit Shāh Begīm and my Khān dādā and various relatives. I spent a few
days in Tāshkīnt and waited on Shāh Begīm and my Khān dādā. My mother's
elder full-sister, Mihr-nigār Khānīm[583] had come from Samarkand and
was in Tāshkīnt. There my mother Khānīm fell very ill; it was a very bad
illness; she passed through mighty risks.
His Highness Khwājaka Khwāja, having managed to get out of Samarkand,
had settled down in Far-kat; there I visited him. I had hoped my Khān
dādā would shew me affection and kindness and would give me a country or
a district (_pargana_). He did promise me Aūrā-tīpā but Muḥ. Ḥusain
Mīrzā. did not make it over, whether acting on his own account
[Sidenote: Fol. 97.] or whether upon a hint from above, is not known.
After spending a few days with him (in Aūrā-tīpā), I went on to
Dikh-kat.
Dikh-kat is in the Aūrā-tīpā hill-tracts, below the range on the other
side of which is the Macha[584] country. Its people, though Sārt,
settled in a village, are, like Turks, herdsmen and shepherds. Their
sheep are reckoned at 40,000. We dismounted at the houses of the
peasants in the village; I stayed in a head-man's house. He was old, 70
or 80, but his mother was still alive. She was a woman on whom much life
had been bestowed for she was 111 years old. Some relation of hers may
have gone, (as was said), with Tīmūr Beg's army to Hindūstān;[585] she
had this in her mind and used to tell the tale. In Dikh-kat alone were
96 of her descendants, hers and her grandchildren, great-grandchildren
and grandchildren's grandchildren. Counting in the dead, 200 of her
descendants were reckoned up. Her grandchild's grandson was a strong
young man of 25 or 26, with full black beard. While in Dikh-kat, I
constantly made excursions amongst the mountains round [Sidenote: Fol.
97b.] about. Generally I went bare-foot and, from doing this so much, my
feet became so that rock and stone made no difference to them.[586] Once
in one of these wanderings, a cow was seen, between the Afternoon and
Evening prayers, going down by a narrow, ill-defined road. Said I, 'I
wonder which way that road will be going; keep your eye on that cow;
don't lose the cow till you know where the road comes out.' Khwāja
Asadu'l-lāh made his joke, 'If the cow loses her way,' he said, 'what
becomes of us?'
In the winter several of our soldiers asked for leave to Andijān because
they could make no raids with us.[587] Qāsim Beg said, with much
insistance, 'As these men are going, send something special of your own
wear by them to Jahāngīr Mīrzā.' I sent my ermine cap. Again he urged,
'What harm would there be if you sent something for Taṃbal also?' Though
I was very unwilling, yet as he urged it, I sent Taṃbal a large
broad-sword which Nuyān _Kūkūldāsh_ had had made for himself in
Samarkand. This very sword it was which, as will be told with the
events of next year, came down on my own head![588]