# Early English adventurers in the East (1917)/Chapter 5

CHAPTER V
How the English went to India
William Hawkins is landed at Surat—Makarrab Khan, the local Governor—A typical Mogul official—His attitude towards the English—Hawkms proceeds to Agra—Description of the city of that day—Jehangir on the throne of the Great Mogul—He gives Hawkins a friendly reception—Takes him into his service—Hawkins's advance to power—His marriage—Effect of Jehangir's patronage of Hawkins on the officials at Surat—Jehangir's character—His debauchery and cruelty—Downfall of Hawkins.
IT must have been with somewhat of a thrill that on an August day in 1608 those on board the East India Company's good ship Hector saw above the Eastern horizon the low-lying coastline of Guzerat with its fringing of palm groves and its pleasant background of cultivated land clad in the rich verdure of the season of monsoon rains, now approaching its close. For the first time from the deck of an English ship Englishmen gazed on this fair and spreading scene in which the fabled wealth of India seemed to be so happily typified. None of course could appreciate to the full the deep historic significance underlying this earliest connexion established between the shores of England and India. But there was on board at all events one who of a certainty realized that the occasion was no common one of a trading ship entering an unfamiliar port. This individual was William Hawkins, bearer of a letter from James I to the Great Mogul asking ​on behalf of the Company for liberty to trade in India.
Hawkins, though probably not to be identified with the man of the same name whom we have already met with as Fenton's associate in his unfortunate voyage, was a true adventurer of the type which had been fashioned out of the events of the Elizabethan period. He was no stranger to the East. During some years spent in the Levant he had mastered the native languages current in the places in which he traded, and with them had acquired a knowledge of Oriental manners and customs, and, what was, perhaps, more important, had gained an insight into Eastern character such as few Englishmen of his day could lay claim to. His outlook was, perhaps not unnaturally, coloured by a strong personal ambition.
Those were times in which men of European race rose to great positions at the Oriental courts. All over Asia the subtle influence of the West was carrying with it a force which was more and more revealing itself in the capricious tastes of the despotic rulers who held sway in those regions. To every stranger from Europe there was a chance of distinction. To vary a familiar simile the traveller carried in his knapsack a minister's wand of office.
Hawkins was perfectly aware of this, and from the first obviously endeavoured to turn his position of envoy to the fullest account. He made his début at Surat not as a simple seaman or a humble trader intent on getting on to the market under favourable conditions a cargo of goods, but as an ambassador of a great power, which has a right to demand and exact respectful treatment.
At the very earliest period of the Hector's stay off Surat Hawkins found that his mission was to be one of no ordinary difficulty. He came into collision at once almost with ​Portuguese pretensions to exercise undisputed sway in Indian waters. All attempts to communicate with the shore were frustrated, and when in defiance of the edict imposed by the commander of the Portuguese warships on the coast boats attempted a landing the crews were attacked and made prisoners. Hawkins forwarded a vigorous protest against the outrage demanding the release of the men and goods seized and pointing out that the warlike attitude adopted was unjustifiable in view of the fact that England and Portugal were now at peace. The remonstrance was treated with contempt by the Portuguese commander. The "proud rascall" not only insolently declined to set the crews at liberty, but in the presence of Hawkins' messenger "most vilely abused his Majesty, terming him King of fishermen and of an island of no importance." It was, he finally indicated, beneath his dignity to send any written reply to the indignant representations of the English commander. Eventually the captured men were sent as prisoners to Goa, to be dealt with by the authorities there.
Hawkins, by dint of perseverance, managed to establish: a precarious communication with the shore, but he quickly discovered that this extension of his activities merely increased his difficulties. Surat at the time was under the rule of a local governor named Makarrab Khan, who enjoyed a semi-independent authority under the Viceroy of the Ahmedabad province.
Makarrab Khan was a typical Mogul official, proud, arrogant and avaricious. He had been elevated to power by one of those curious freaks of fortune that from the time of Joseph onwards have brought individuals from obscurity to positions of power in Oriental countries. ​Originally a Court physician, he had successfully treated the Emperor for some disease from which he was suffering. Out of gratitude for the relief afforded Jehangir had nominated the fortunate practitioner to the lucrative oversight of government business at Surat under the title of Makarrab Khan, which, roughly translated, means Lord of my Health. The newly appointed governor, after the manner of his time, used his position for his personal aggrandizement. A scarcely veiled form of blackmail was imposed upon all who came within the area of his government for purposes of trade. His exactions were only circumscribed by the limitations imposed by the poverty of his victims or their capacity for resisting his rapacious demands.
To such a man as Makarrab Khan the visit of the English ship was a welcome addition to the customary sources of plunder, which had become restricted by the operation of his oppressive system. He prepared without unnecessary delay to turn the opportunity to account. Goods which the Englishmen contrived to smuggle ashore in spite of the Portuguese were overhauled by the governor, and all articles that took his fancy were appropriated on the illusory understanding that they would be paid for in some remote and ill-defined future. The process was repeated until a period was reached when, as Hawkins put it, his temporary place of residence was "swept clean" of all articles of value. As soon as this had been done, and it had been made clear that there would be no further supplies to annex, the governor, "little by little" (says Hawkins), "degraded me of his good looks." Meantime, the Hector had resumed her voyage to Bantam in view of the uselessness of prolonging her stay at the Western ​India port. Her departure had led the Portuguese to redouble their exertions to secure the expulsion of their hated rivals. Makarrab Khan might have listened to their hostile suggestions if he had not found it more profitable to pluck the pigeon rather than drive it away. What would have happened if Hawkins had not cut the Gordian knot by deciding to leave for the Great Mogul's Court at Agra it is difficult to say. But Makarrab Khan was under a certain fear of the Portuguese, and if the furtherance of their designs had not stood in the way of his interests it is probable that he would have lent his sanction to their schemes.
As befitted his exalted and largely self-imposed rank Hawkins set out on his long journey into the interior with a large retinue. In his cavalcade, besides a number of personal attendants, were fifty horsemen—Pathans—"a people very much feared in these parts," as no doubt they were with cause, for they are amongst the fiercest of the wild races of the Indian frontier.
A strong guard was a necessity of the journey in the then state of India. Hawkins' route in part lay through a wild country which was the home of intractable tribes who subsist largely on plunder. Moreover, a veiled state of war existed in some districts in which the sovereignty of the Mogul power was not fully accepted. But Hawkins appears to have been concerned not so much about these ordinary perils of the road as with the enmity of the Portuguese. Rightly or wrongly he supposed that emissaries of the Goa government were awaiting the opportunity of his journey to assassinate him. An actual plot was laid to overwhelm his party with a force of three hundred native horsemen under a chief who had been employed for ​the purpose, but the Englishman "went so strong and well provided" that the hired assailants called off their bargain. Subsequently Hawkins discovered another conspiracy in which Makarrab Khan was concerned. In this instance his own coachman was employed either to kill him while he slept or put poison in his food, and probably would have accomplished his purpose had not the man, when intoxicated, spoken too openly of his intentions. Despite the dangers which beset him Hawkins arrived in good health at Agra on April 16, 1609, two and a half months after his departure from Surat.
Agra at this juncture was the capital of the Mogul Empire. It was not until a later period, during the reign of Shah Jehan, that Delhi was made the regular seat of government. Even Agra, at the time of Hawkins' visit, was devoid of some of the features which have made it famous. The matchless Taj Mahal had still to be built on the banks of the swift flowing Jumna. The beautiful tomb of Itmud Dowlah, Shah Jehan's famous minister, was also a thing of the future. The extensive fort, with its high red sandstone walls, to become prominent in after years as the scene of some of the most stirring episodes of the great Sepoy Mutiny, was, however, in existence, and within its walls the exquisite Pearl Mosque, that gem of Saracenic art, opened its portals to the faithful, while in the adjacent apartments of the Palace the ladies of Jehangir's harem lived their uneventful lives behind the white marble walls whose intricate tracery excites to-day the wonder and admiration of the personally conducted tourist from Europe.
The city itself was a far larger and more imposing place than the rather squalid and sleepy mofussil town which ​it is at present. Its extensive bazaars teemed with the life and movement of a great Oriental capital. From the four quarters of the compass passed in and out in unending succession caravans bringing merchandise from all parts of India and even from the remote confines of Asia. The most magnificent court that the gorgeous East has known brought to the scene an indescribable wealth of glittering pageantry. Long trains of richly caparisoned elephants, escorted by troops of mounted men equipped with bucklers and spears and wearing the splendid uniform of the imperial guard, went in stately procession through the streets, while from the lofty altitude of the gold and silver howdahs upon the backs of the great animals looked down with supercilious indifference the princes of the Imperial House decked out with precious stones and "the barbaric pearl and gold" which an exuberant Oriental fancy decreed as the fitting adornments of royal personages.
On the judgment seat of the celebrated Akbar in the Fort sat his degenerate son Jehangir, "the Conqueror of the World." A man in the prime of life, he had reigned only five years at the period with which we are dealing. As the narrative will show he was a strange compound of qualities mostly bad. An Oriental despot of the most pronounced type, his life was stained with a thousand crimes. He became so hardened to cruelty that out of mere wantonness he would perpetrate the most horrible barbarities; yet he could be generous when the fit seized him, and even at times showed a certain magnanimity in his dealings with those about him. A strong sense of humour occasionally characterized his actions, while his demeanour towards those whom he liked assumed ofttimes a bluff heartiness curiously contrasted with the ​almost fiendish malignity he could display to those who had had the misfortune to give him offence even unwittingly. He was essentially a man of moods. In the evening he might be a genial and even interesting companion, delighting in badinage and conversational small talk. The morning would probably reveal him as the personification of gloom, his brow clouded with a black frown, his eye fierce and menacing and his voice like thunder. Woe to the man then on whom that terrible eye might light. These strange transitions from one state of mind to exactly the opposite are susceptible of a simple explanation. Jehangir was an inveterate drinker. A carousal was a feature of the day's routine, and probably during the greater part of his reign he never went to bed sober. Alcoholic excess produced its natural and inevitable result in destroying the balance of the mind and rendering the Emperor capricious, irritable and cruel. It is doubtful whether in some of his fits of passion he was really sane. Such was the man who gave the concession which was the foundation of English trade in India, and of the influence which led directly to the building up of the mighty fabric of the British Indian Empire.
When the English merchant envoy with his escort of wild horsemen rode on that hot April day in 1609 along the dusty road leading into Agra from the West they must have excited more than ordinary attention; for Hawkins was not the man to hide his light under a bushel and in any event a European mission was a sufficient novelty to make a considerable stir in the imperial city. Jehangir, who had probably been kept informed of the progress of the mission after its departure from Surat, appears to have had the very earliest intimation of its ​arrival in his capital. Before Hawkins could even select a place of residence the imperial messengers were scouring the capital with orders to bring him to the palace for an immediate audience. When, owing to the rapidity of the Englishman's movements, they failed to discover his whereabouts, detachments of horse and foot were sent into every quarter of the city with imperative instructions to find the stranger. By this means Hawkins was ultimately run to earth. He was perplexed rather than flattered by the eagerness of the Emperor to see him. He wanted to make his appearance at the Mogul Court with fitting dignity, and the imperial marshal was so exigent that he would scarcely allow him time to don his best attire. He was mollified, however, by the elaborate preparations for his reception which, as he proudly comments in his diary, were all that a king's ambassador was entitled to expect.
With some trepidation Hawkins appeared in the imperial presence. He had got to know that presents were an indispensable adjunct of an ambassador's outfit and that the cloth, which was all that he had to offer, was not at all likely to be to Jehangir's taste. All passed off well, however. The Emperor smiled benignantly on him as he made his obeisance, and when he had listened to the translated version of James' letter read by a Portuguese priest at his Court, he graciously intimated that he would with all his heart grant everything that his Majesty requested. Some chance remarks made by Hawkins led to the discovery that Jehangir and he had a common medium of conversation in Arabic, which the latter had acquired in his earlier career. A lively interchange of sentiments took place, with the result that the Emperor became so ​interested in his visitor that on dismissing him at the close of the audience he commanded that he should be in daily attendance at his Court.
Hawkins' position was now assured. He advanced from honour to honour with a rapidity only possible in an Oriental court. At length some weeks after the arrival of the mission Jehangir made him a definite proposal with a view of securing his services permanently. The imperial offer was a licence for a factory at Surat for the Company, and for Hawkins personally an allowance of £3,200 a year, with the command of 400 horse. The suggestion was too tempting to be put aside by one in the position of Hawkins. As he quaintly put it to the Company, while another would easily take the place tentatively assigned to him at Bantam he would be so situated that "I should feather my nest and doe you service." He therefore closed with the proposal, and from the rôle of envoy made an easy transition to that of personal attendant on the Emperor. In his new office he was intimately associated with Jehangir not only in the ceremonial duties of the daily durbar, where he occupied a position among the nobles in the little railed enclosure reserved for them, but in the nightly wassails in the inner recesses of the palace, at which the imperial debauchee unbent in extraordinary fashion.
It was probably at one of these symposiums that Jehangir took it into his head to confer upon Hawkins a wife. The story, as told by the erstwhile envoy in his record of his life at Agra is that the Emperor one day was "very earnest" with him "to take a white maiden out of his palace," promising that "he would give her all things necessary with slaves," and offering as an additional ​inducement that she should turn Christian. Hawkins declined to accept the proposal as far as it concerned his marriage to a "Moor," but he allowed his imperial patron to understand that if a Christian could be found he would be willing to espouse her. He represents that he made this concession because he wanted to be free and he imagined that the condition was an impossible one. But he had literally reckoned without his host. Jehangir discovered for him an Armenian girl, the daughter of a captain who was in great favour with Akbar and who had some time previously died, leaving his offspring in rather poor circumstances. As the Emperor had set his heart on the marriage Hawkins had no alternative but to yield a reluctant consent. As no Christian minister was available to sanctify the union Hawkins got his personal servant Nicholas to act the part of priest, a procedure which, he says naively, "I thought had been lawful till I met with a preacher that came out with Sir Henry Middleton and he, showing me the error I was in, marryed (me) again." Mrs. Hawkins, as we shall discover, was a very enterprising lady who quite justified Jehangir 's selection of her as a suitable mate for his English favourite.
Not long after the curious episode just related Jehangir gave Hawkins his commission "under his great seal with golden letters." This he promptly sent on to Surat, where he had left two of the Company's representatives, William Finch and Thomas Aldworth, to keep the place warm pending brighter days for trade. Before the document reached its destination news of the remarkable favour shown to Hawkins at Court had reached the Western port and had led to the circulation of a curious rumour as to the means by which he had captured the vagrant imperial ​fancy. The version of the bazaar gossip given by Finch in a letter written to Hawkins, whom, with a proper deference for his new dignity, he addressed as "my Lord," was that he had presented to the Emperor "a small coffer with eleven locks within which were such rare stones that they would (so) lighten the darkest place that it would need no candle." Finch expressed himself as sceptical about the truth of the story, but as to the effect of the distinction conferred upon Hawkins he was very emphatic. The news, he stated, had been received "to the great applause of the vulgar sort, but with small content to the great ones, who bite their lips exceedingly to hear the great honours done to your Worship, yet are silent, not daring much." The Surat officials, though reduced to silence, were not the less dangerous on that account. From the moment of Hawkins' elevation to power they sought, by the means which long experience had taught them to practise with effect, to undermine his position.
Meanwhile, the subject of the intrigues, in happy ignorance of the machinations of his old enemy, Makarrab Khan, was tasting the full joys of life at the wonderful Mogul Court. His descriptions of the various ceremonies at the palace and of the personal doings of the Emperor are marked by a shrewd insight into character and have many graphic touches which help us to realize to-day what the India of the period of the Mogul ascendency was like.
Every day at three o'clock Jehangir sat in durbar in high state. All his nobles who happened to be in Agra at the time were expected to attend these functions, and there were present besides a great number of high officials, "every man standing in his degree, the chiefest being ​within a red rail placed three steps above the level of the ordinary assemblage. In the midst of the audience chamber, immediately in front of the Emperor, was "one of his sheriffs, together with his Master Hangman, who is accompanied with forty hangmen, wearing on their heads a certain quilted cap, with an hatchet on their shoulders, and others with all sorts of whips, being there ready to do what the King commandeth." At this assemblage the Emperor was accustomed to administer justice after the manner of his father, but without the great Akbar's acumen or his magnanimity and tolerance.
When the official work was done he retired to his "private place of prayer." His devotions ended, he had his principal meal, which consisted of four or five sorts of roasted meat washed down with a draught of "strong drink." Thereafter he repaired to his private room, "where none can come but such as himself nominateth." Hawkins, however, was regularly commanded to the imperial drinking den, and he gives a singular account of the routine observed at the nightly function.
The quantity of the Emperor's drink was regulated by his physicians, but the allowance was always ample, and to add to its effect Jehangir was accustomed to follow up the drinking of the last cup by consuming a quantity of opium. After this, "being in the height of his drink, he layeth him down to sleep, every man departing to his own home." Later in the evening when the Emperor had slept off the first effects of the alcohol and the drug his supper was brought in, and the final picture we have of the mighty monarch is of his being fed like a child prior to retiring for what remained of the night.
A singular idiosyncrasy which distinguished Jehangir ​was a desire that the pearls of wisdom which fell from his lips, whether when he was drunk or sober, should be recorded for the edification of posterity. To this end he had at his elbow a sort of Court reporter, who was charged with the special duty of noting his comments on any matter, either with reference to State affairs or to the most intimate concerns of his private existence. It is probable that this precious record which was to go down to remote ages did not outlive the reign. But we know quite enough of Jehangir's habits from the writings of unauthorized Boswells to be able to dispense with the Court newsman's transcripts.
Jehangir's personal characteristics are further illustrated in interesting fashion by several anecdotes which Hawkins relates from experiences within his own knowledge.
One day a young Pathan from the frontier applied for employment to one of the Emperor's sons. He was asked what pay he expected. The man's reply was that he would not serve either the prince or his father under Rs. 1,000 a day. The prince smilingly asked what was in him that he demanded such extravagant remuneration.
"Make trial with me," responded the Pathan, "with all sorts of weapons, either on horseback or on foot, and if I do not perform as much as I speak let me die for it."
Amused at the man's conceit the prince later in the day related the incident to his father. Jehangir, who was "merry" at the time, commanded the Pathan to be brought before him. It happened to be an occasion on which the Emperor was diverting himself with a lion fight, and the lions were about to be brought into the arena as ​the suitor for employment responded to the summons to appear in the imperial presence.
Jehangir's eye, roving about in drunken fashion, caught sight of the fierce animals, which were approaching in the custody of their keepers. Turning to the Pathan he demanded why he asked such high wages.
The answer given to the prince was repeated, "Make trial of me."
"That I will," responded Jehangir; "go wrestle and buffet with the lion."
The Pathan not unnaturally demurred to accept such an unequal combat. The Emperor, however, would hear of no refusal, so the young tribesman, with probably a heavy heart but with undaunted mien, stepped into the arena, while at the same moment the chained lion was released by its keepers. The poor fellow strove to master the animal, with the inevitable result that in a few minutes, all mangled and bleeding, he was lying in the last agonies on the ground of the arena. Not content with the sacrifice of this brave fellow the bloodthirsty tyrant ordered other men into the arena to battle with the lions for his enjoyment. Terrible injuries were inflicted upon a number of unfortunates before the passion for man-killing was sated.
Quite as characteristic as this story of blood lust is the incident of a different type which Hawkins relates concerning one of the Emperor's leading ministers. This functionary through an act of carelessness one day broke a china dish which Jehangir valued very much. Instead of reporting the occurrence the official sent to China for a new dish to replace the one broken, trusting that the loss would not be discovered in the meantime. But in an unfortunate moment for him his imperial master bethought ​himself of his treasure, and when in answer to his inquiries he learnt that it had been broken his rage knew no bounds. Commanding the offending noble to be brought into his presence he caused him to be cruelly beaten by two men armed with great whips. After the poor wretch had received 120 lashes from these fearful implements of torture he was handed over to porters to be beaten with small cudgels. Then, more dead than alive, he was dragged out of the durbar by the heels and thrown into prison.
The following day the Emperor asked whether the offender was, still alive, and finding that he was condemned him to a life of perpetual imprisonment. One of the royal princes, who was friendly with the minister, at this point interceded on the man's behalf and obtained his father's reluctant permission to take charge of him.
At the end of two months, having to some extent recovered from the effects of his punishment, the degraded minister appeared before the Emperor to appeal for pardon. But the memory of his fault still rankled in the imperial mind, and he would only consent to admit the culprit to his former position on the condition that he first produced a dish exactly like the one which had been destroyed. This was tantamount to a sentence of banishment for a long period, as the only likely place in which to discover a duplicate was China.
Quitting the Court the fallen minister started at once on his long journey across Asia. When he had been absent fourteen months on his strange mission news was received at Agra that the Shah of Persia, hearing of Jehangir's loss and having the exact partner of the broken dish, had forwarded it as a present to his imperial brother, to the intense gratification of the exile, who was on his way home. ​The favour of a tyrant so capricious as Jehangir showed himself to be was a slender reed on which an isolated Englishman could lean at that juncture, and the day came when Hawkins discovered that the intrigues of Makarrab Khan and of his close associates, the Portuguese, were having effect on the imperial mind to his disadvantage. He strove manfully to resist the insidious influences and, for a time, seemed to have conquered, but at length "the King went again from his word, esteeming a few toys which the fathers had promised him more than his honour."
Hawkins made yet another effort to obtain the licence to trade for the Company, which was the bone of contention, but Jehangir informed him that he had finally decided to withhold it.
"Thus," says Hawkins, "was I tossed and tumbled in the kind of a rich merchant adventuring all he had in one bottom, and by casualtie of stormes or pirates lost it all at once."
The rebuff here administered was the beginning of the end. Presently, Hawkins was told that he was not to enter within the red rails where he had stood near the Emperor during the two years of his service. The intimation was a hint not to be disregarded with impunity. He commenced to make preparations for departure. His first thought was to obtain a safe conduct to Goa for himself and his wife, but he was spared the humiliation of making an application in this quarter by the news which reached Agra at the juncture of the arrival of three English ships under Sir Henry Middleton at Surat. Without loss of time he made his way to the coast and was soon once more, to his great joy, on the deck of an English ship.
Hawkins' subsequent career belongs to a somewhat ​later period than that with which we must now deal, but for the sake of completeness the remaining facts may be told here. He proceeded with Sir Henry Middleton's fleet to Bantam and there embarked for home in the Peppercorn, commanded by Nicholas Downton. The voyage proved a very unhealthy one, and more than half the company on board died, the victims including Hawkins. His wife went on to London in the Peppercorn, and not long afterwards contracted a marriage with Gabriel Towerson, a prominent commander in the Company's service, who subsequently became famous as the central victim in the massacre of Amboina. We shall meet him again, but Mrs. Hawkins, or Towerson as she must now be called, fades from the scene shortly after this. She distinguished herself in London by some transactions relative to a very valuable diamond which she had brought with her, probably as part of her first husband's spoils of office. The last glimpse of her is later on at Surat, where on her return to India, she, with one or two other ladies, gave the local representatives of the English Company an infinite amount of trouble by her demands on their resources. She must have been a woman of above the ordinary degree of ability and seems to have had over Hawkins a remarkable influence. Hawkins himself was an exceptionally clever man—tactful, resourceful and endowed to a marked degree with that masterfulness which, when combined with the afore-mentioned qualities, is so sure a passport to success with Orientals. His cannot, perhaps, be regarded as a great name in the list of seventeenth century adventurers in the East, but it is emphatically an interesting one.