1612–1615

Abstract

This chapter is dedicated to the evolution of the English strategies vis-à-vis the Mughal Empire following the ‘embassies’ of Paul Canning, Thomas Kerridge and William Edwards, which took place between 1613 and 1615. This chapter reassesses the activities of these three envoys and their attempts to surpass the apparent Jesuit influence at the Mughal court. The evolution of the EIC’s diplomatic manoeuvres will be juxtaposed with the Jesuit efforts to secure a channel of communication between the Mughal court and the Estado da Índia during the Luso-Mughal crisis of 1613–1615.

William Hawkins’ sudden fall from favour at the Mughal court represented a serious setback for the EIC. The failure to obtain firm permission from the Mughal authorities to establish a factory raised questions about the future of the company’s activities in India. Although the EIC would continue to invest in diplomatic contacts with Jahangir to obtain a firman, the events of 1609–1611 prompted a reassessment of the company’s modus operandi in the West Coast of India. Perceiving that the Mughal authorities regarded the English as fragile newcomers, the EIC, adopted a strategy of maritime violence that sought to pressure Jahangir by attacking Mughal ships and divert part of the maritime traffic destined for Gujarat to other ports. Maritime violence became, as Edmond Smith¹ and Kirti Chaudhuri² have argued, an instrument that allowed a supplicant such as the EIC to increase its negotiating capacity. The intention was not only to coerce, but also to persuade Jahangir that English naval strength could be useful to Mughal economic and geopolitical interests. The new strategy also had another aim: to challenge the Portuguese claims to a maritime monopoly in the Indian Ocean and present the EIC as a suitable partner to the Mughal efforts to frustrate the Estado’s maritime ambitions.

I

Writing shortly after the downfall of the English Chan, Nicholas Downton confessed his worries about the viability of English trade in Asia, being unable to hide his ‘perplexed thoughts by present view or likelihood of the ruin’.³ If the absence of a firman cast a shadow of doubt over the future of English trade in India, the conditions in which Hawkins abandoned the Mughal court inflicted serious damage on England’s reputation in South Asia. The English Chan’s failed exploits seemed to have been the final episode of an erratic enterprise that ended against all expectations with ‘our King and Nation on every side in disgrace, without favour, and hopeless of future trade’.⁴ One of Downton’s worries was that Jahangir’s hesitancy to grant commercial privileges to the EIC reflected a perception that England was a minor European power that lacked the status to establish a relationship of equals with the Mughal Empire. In Downton’s own words, Jahangir ‘in contempt disdains to answer our king’s letter, as not standing with his greatness to answer every Naccam which is as a governor or petty king, an imputation not to be forgotten, by his people’.⁵

Besides noting the lack of diplomatic weight, Downton identified two other obstacles. The first was the damage inflicted by the Portuguese fleets along the Gujarati coast. The Estado’s warships not only impeded the circulation of English ships and tradesmen, but also dissuaded the local merchants from dealing with the EIC men.⁶ The other obstacle was the ambivalent behaviour of most Mughal officials. Many high-ranking officials were engaged in trading ventures and often abused their position to increase their profits. Although in their contacts with EIC employees Mughal officials were amicable and showed an interest in supporting English trading activities, many of them ‘permit no trade with us, reserving all, both buying and selling for their own private benefits’.⁷ Such abuses of power also involved a ‘variety of delays’ related to the payment of custom duties and the definition of prices for commodities sold by English merchants. The apparent dissimulation of the Mughal authorities was interpreted as being instigated by the fear of the reaction of ‘their masters, the Portugals’.⁸

Downton was correct in discerning the anxiety that the deterioration of Luso-Mughal relations caused in Gujarat, but his complaints also reveal a frustration with a Mughal fiscal system that mixed local taxation traditions with imperial directives. The interplay between local practices and the imperial policies relied on local officials, whom the emperor granted enough power to ‘enjoy a considerable discretion and freedom of action’.⁹ This flexibility often invited port officials to, as Downton noted, interfere for their personal advantage or in accordance with specific political and economic needs.

Downton moulds his assessment of the English activities in Gujarat according to a nationalist discourse that presents the company’s setbacks at the Mughal court not as the result of an erratic diplomatic approach, but as a consequence of a concerted attack by hostile and influential European and local actors. Another important trope of Downton’s report was that these attacks sought to undermine the interests and symbolic authority of the English Crown. The main target of the Portuguese and Mughal machinations was not the EIC, but James I. Despite being a mercantile corporation, the EIC was an extension of the Crown. The obstacles posed by the Mughal authorities should thus be regarded not as problem directly related to the commercial exploits of the EIC but as an act of direct hostility towards James I. This perception allowed Downton to justify the new modus operandi adopted by the EIC men in the Indian Ocean. By adopting a hostile policy, the EIC would.

inform the Moguls and others which have abused us that our nation is not to be so coarsely used, and that they can do us no wrong but that we will again right ourselves on their ships and goods, whereby we shall force them more to honour and better respect our nation, and will be glad if anything can procure the same to give us trade to have our friendship.¹⁰

Downton’s advocacy of maritime violence clashed with the original intention of the company’s board, which was to seek trading privileges through diplomatic means, a strategy that reconciled both the commercial goals of the EIC and the needs to enlarge the diplomatic partners of the English Crown. In spite of not receiving any reply from London, the EIC men immediately started to implement the new modus operandi. At the same time that Downton wrote his report, the fleet commanded by Sir Henry Middleton stationed in the Red Sea initiated a series of attacks on Arabian, Mughal and Portuguese ships.

Maritime violence brought some interesting profits from the seized commodities, but, after one year of attacks against Mughal shipping, the EIC was still unable to persuade Jahangir to grant trading privileges. A joint letter to the company’s board from Thomas Aldworth, William Biddulph and Nicholas Whittington, written on 25 January 1612, expressed a concern with the possible counterproductive effect of Middleton’s raids in the Red Sea. Some days before, Middleton had arrested a series of Mughal ships sailing from Mocha to Surat. The three company men feared that the arrest would provoke a violent reaction from the Mughal authorities, undermining the recent friendly overtures from local merchants and officials. As soon as the news of Middleton’s new arrest reached Surat there was ‘a general murmuring in the city’ and the three company men confessed that they were ‘doubtful of what might befall us’.¹¹

Although they ‘found the people very reasonable’ and the local officials insinuated that a Mughal retaliation could be avoided if there was a restitution of the seized goods, Middleton rejected any compensation. Some days later, the general apprehend another Mughal ship. This new seizure coincided with the news of the imminent arrival of the Governor of Ahmedabad to negotiate the establishment of an English factory in Surat. The negotiations took place in Swally and were conducted by the governor and Middleton himself. After four days of talks, an agreement was reached, and the Mughals promised to issue a firman confirming the trading privileges granted to the EIC within a period of 40 days. Middleton, however, was reticent in believing that the Mughal authorities would follow the agreement and wished to return to England, a position rejected by Thomas Aldworth, who refused to have any dealing with Middleton until the firman arrived.¹² The general’s reservations and Aldworth’s opposition suggest the existence of a conflict over how the EIC should act towards the Mughals. While Middleton defended the continuity of the strategy of maritime violence to pressure Jahangir, Aldworth advocated a return to peaceful negotiations.

The arrival of Best’s fleet and his negotiations with the governor of Ahmedabad prompted the Portuguese viceroy, Ruy Lourenço de Távora, to send four heavily armed galleons commanded by Nuno da Cunha to Surat. The fleet from Goa also carried Paul Canning and Edward Christian, who had been captured by the Portuguese when their ship left Surat to reach Middleton’s fleet. The two English prisoners were able to communicate to Best the arrival of the galleons from Goa. On 29 November 1612, around four o’clock in the afternoon, Cunha’s fleet met the English ships at Swally. The battle, according to the Portuguese chronicler António Bocarro, lasted two days and was an utter disaster for the Estado da Índia. Although Bocarro recognised that his sources were inaccurate and that he was only able to identify 30 certified casualties among Cunha’s fleet, it was widely known that ‘the English killed many of our people’.¹³ English reports of the battle mention more than one hundred Portuguese casualties. Patrick Copland, who witnessed the battle, estimated that Cunha’s fleet lost around 200 to 300 men against only four deaths among the members of Best’s fleet.¹⁴

Copland described the Battle of Swally as an uneven clash between a Portuguese squadron of four heavily armed galleons of around 800 tons, which could count on the support of at least 26 frigates, against four English ‘merchant ships’.¹⁵ The outcome of the battle was thus a sign of divine providence. ‘Our God’, wrote Copland, ‘fought for us as He did for the Israelites’.¹⁶ Best’s victory was thus used to stimulate a providentialist vision of English overseas exploits,¹⁷ an example of divine support for a Protestant power against a powerful and hostile Catholic rival that echoed the victory over the Spanish Armada in 1588. It also allowed the EIC men in Surat to reposition themselves vis-à-vis the Mughal authorities. Cunha’s defeat allowed the EIC to present itself not only as a group of merchants, but also as a useful counterweight to Portuguese naval power in the Indian Ocean.¹⁸

Indeed, the events of Swally and its aftermath were closely followed by the Mughals. Richard Croft reported to London that the battle had ‘no lack of witnesses on the shore, because many people came from Surat only to see it’.¹⁹ Nicholas Withington described the clash between the Portuguese and English ships as a public event followed by a large audience, ‘a fight beeing before thowsands of the countrye people, whoe (to our nation’s greate fame) have devulged the same farr and neare’.²⁰ Among those who spread the news was Sardar Khan, a high-ranking Mughal official and courtier, who was the brother of Abdullah Khan, the subahdar of Gujarat between 1611 and 1616. By the end of 1612, Sardar Khan was commanding an expedition to eliminate the activities of a group of Malabari pirates who operated in the region.²¹ The Mughal nobleman established cordial contacts with Thomas Best. Nicholas Withington mentions that Best was ‘very honourably Entertained and presented with a gallant horse and furniture’. Sardar Khan’s amicable approach, reflected by his gift to Best, suggests an interest in exploring the presence of English merchants in Gujarat to serve both the economic interests of the Mughal polity and the private agenda of a member of a Mughal elite increasingly interested in being involved in overseas trade. Sardar Khan’s cordiality towards Best generated among the EIC servants in Gujarat a perception that there was an opportunity to establish a partnership with a relevant member of the Mughal court.

The proximity between the English and Sardar Khan was duly noted by the Portuguese. In his Década, António Bocarro observed that Thomas Best’s decision to prolong the clash with Nuno da Cunha to a second day was motivated by English fears ‘of losing the reputation they had with a certain Mughal captain [Sardar Khan] who was besieging a fortress’.²² Upon his return to the Mughal court, Sardar Khan, according to Nicholas Withington, presented a ‘large discourse’ on the events of Swally, which impressed Jahangir who, until then, believed that ‘there had bin noe nation comparable to the Portungale by sea’.²³

II

The prospect of finally obtaining a firman prompted the EIC servants based in Surat to send another emissary to the Mughal court. Paul Canning was the man chosen to present a new letter from James I to Jahangir brought by the new fleet. Probably intended to ensure that Canning’s embassy would not be a repetition of Hawkins’ fiasco, the new emissary would be accompanied by Jadow, a reliable local interpreter, and two English assistants. These were Richard Temple, who had knowledge of ‘the Spanish tongue’, and one Edward Hunt.²⁴ The legation also included two musicians. One was Canning’s cousin, Lancelot Canning, who played the virginals, and the other was Robert Trully, a cornet player or a trumpeter.²⁵

The composition of Canning’s embassy reveals a concern to ensure that the emissary would have no problems communicating with the Hindustani and Persian-speaking Mughal courtiers, as well as with his potential nemesis, the Spanish-speaking Jesuit missionaries. In addition, the presence of two other EIC employees ensured that, unlike Hawkins, Canning’s behaviour would be constantly monitored and reported. The importance of this embassy is also shown by the inclusion of Lancelot Canning and Robert Trully. The use of music in English attempts to obtain trading concessions from Islamicate powers had already been used with some success by the Barbary and Levant companies in Morocco and Ottoman courts. Besides their functions as cultural emissaries, musicians could be employed by the local elites, becoming useful go-betweens in the service of both sides. Around 1599, for example, the organist Thomas Dallam performed at the Ottoman seraglio and was invited by the sultan to remain in Istanbul.²⁶ The positive experience of the Levant Company with Dallam seemed to have influenced the EIC to use two English musicians as diplomatic gifts. The objective was not only to impress, but above all to allow the EIC to compete with the Jesuit missionaries in the introduction of European cultural products in Mughal India.

On 29 January 1613, Paul Canning initiated, in the words of Nicholas Withington, a ‘tedious and hard journey’ from Surat to Agra. He would only reach the Mughal court after 70 days of all sorts of travails, including an assault from a group of robbers in which the English emissary and Robert Trully were seriously injured. After this attack, Richard Temple and Edward Hunt decided to quit, leaving Canning alone with no support from EIC men. The English discreetly arrived at Agra on 9 April 1613.²⁷

As planned, Canning presented a letter from James I to the emperor, as well as a gift that, to the frustrations of the EIC men in India, failed to impress Jahangir.²⁸ Indeed, Canning’s rendezvous with Jahangir involved some gaffes. Nicholas Withington mentioned in his account that the envoy, after presenting to the emperor a gift ‘of no great value’, was questioned if the present was sent by James I. Canning replied that it was actually a present from the English merchants.²⁹ Although Withington does comment further on the audience, the reference to Canning’s reply indicates some diplomatic inability. In his journal, Nicholas Downton presented a different version of Canning’s troubled exchanges with the Mughal emperor in which it was not the envoy’s apparent lack of savoir faire but Jesuit intrigues that were responsible for his failure. Apparently, the English envoy was initially ‘well respected by the Emperour, until such time as the Jesuites made knowne he was a merchant and not sent immediately from the King; but afterwards he was neglected, as himself complained’.³⁰ This version is supported by a report from Canning’s successor at the Mughal court, Thomas Kerridge, which mentioned that the Jesuit missionaries undermined the company’s emissary by exploring Jahangir’s ‘haughtiness’.³¹ When asked by the emperor to read the letter brought by Canning, the missionaries explained that the document, although signed by James I, was sent on behalf of ‘merchants only through desire of traffic’.³² During his audience with Canning, Jahangir only mentioned ‘idle and trivial questions’ and never mentioned any ‘matter of business’.³³

It should be noted that the accounts of Canning’s exploits provided by Withington, Downton and Kerridge were written while the EIC was starting to make plans to send an English royal ambassador to the Mughal court to push for the company’s interests. If for Withington Canning was the main culprit for the EIC failure to obtain trading privileges, since he lacked the required skills for an ambassadorial mission, Downton and Kerridge highlighted the Jesuit ability to influence and mislead the Mughal political elites. All, however, stressed that the EIC diplomatic maneuvers were undermined by the mercantile status of its emissaries.

Canning’s problems continued when Jahangir instructed him to negotiate with Muqarrab Khan. The Royal Confidant refused the proposal to establish an English factory in Agra and imposed the condition that, if relations between the Mughal Empire and the Portuguese Estado da Índia were restored, no English ships would be allowed to sail to Mughal ports over a period of three or four years.³⁴ A confused Nicholas Withington angrily asked in his journal ‘what satisfaction wee could make them for wrongs receaved by them from the Portungales [sic] ?’.³⁵

Although Jahangir seemed to not be interested in discussing ‘business’, he revealed a surprising enthusiasm for the trumpet brought by the musicians who accompanied the English emissary. According to Kerridge, Jahangir ‘put it to his mouth’ and ordered copies to be made. The emperor’s interest in the trumpet was rather unexpected. Without hiding his growing frustration, Kerridge mentioned that Jahangir showed no curiosity over the virginals, a more sophisticated instrument that was expected to impress the Mughal court, and sarcastically added that ‘a bagpipe would have been fitter for him’.³⁶ Canning offered Robert Trully to be at the disposal of Jahangir. The trumpeter, however, failed to gain the emperor’s favour. According to Kerridge, Truly stayed several nights waiting to be called by the emperor ‘till midnight and not called for, and as soon as he was gone, called for, whereat the king was once exceeding angry yet never gave him anything only 50 rupees which he took so indignantly that he would scarcely play before him’.³⁷

Trully’s success prompted a quick Jesuit reaction. According to Kerridge, the padres approached the trumpeter to ‘teach two of their servants’, but Trully refused.³⁸ Unable to hire Trully, and fearing Jahangir’s interest in the trumpeter, the missionaries presented a Neapolitan juggler at the Mughal court, ‘saying he was come from Portingal sent by their king to show his rare qualities to His Majesty, wherewith the king was so much delighted that he gave him 5000 rupees and many vestments’.³⁹ The case of the Neapolitan juggler was for Kerridge the ultimate example of the Jesuit ability to influence Jahangir:

Any Christian here, if not presented by the Jesuits, hath any grace at all. Had Robert Trully been theirs he had, ere this, been a rich man, the king exceedingly delighted to hear his cornet. A Frenchman exceeding that juggler since in the same qualities before the king yet had not a rupee given him, only fair promises, the king said, thou hast no fortune, not showing this before the other came, whereby as in all things else we may perceive what hand these dogged Jesuits have with the king &c.⁴⁰

Another reason for Canning the lack of success of dealings at Agra was his problematic relation with his entourage. The envoy had doubts on the behaviour of Jadow, the company’s trusted Banyan interpreter. His distrust led him to employ ‘a Portingal turned Moor’ named António Guerra, who was described by Kerridge as ‘an enemy to these Jesuits, a sufficient, understanding man, and speaketh the Persian tongue exceeding well’.⁴¹ Jadow was probably regarded by Canning as being too sympathetic to Mughal interests, while Guerra, a European with proficient knowledge of Persian and a native Portuguese speaker, emerged as a more sympathetic (and familiar) figure who offered the possibility of Canning to communicate with both Mughals and Jesuits. Kerridge supported Canning’s choice and mentioned that Guerra was more efficient than Jadow, being able to ‘dispatch more business in an hour than this banyan in a day’. However, Jadow’s business contacts and ability to navigate the Mughal environment made him essential.⁴²

Robert Trully’s erratic behaviour also contributed to the failings of the embassy. Besides refusing to work for Jahangir, undermining the company’s strategy, Kerridge accused the trumpeter of scandalising Agra and the local Christian community with his ‘drunkenness and whoring’, a behaviour that revealed that ‘he neglected Mr. Canning in all his business’.⁴³ After the envoy’s death, Trully left Agra and tried his luck at the Deccani courts. According to Nicholas Withington, the trumpeter entered into the service of the ‘Kinge of the Deccan’ and converted to Islam, embracing a new religious and political identity: ‘So Trullye was circumsized, and had a newe name given him and greate allowance given him by the Kinge, with whom hee continued’.⁴⁴ Some time after becoming a renegade, Trully returned to Surat and asked the EIC factors to be readmitted, ‘shewinge himselfe verye pennytente for what hee had don, and carried himselfe in such manner that everye man pittied him’. The repentful apostate persuaded the factors and received a sum of around £40 to help him acquire commodities and sell them in England. Trully, however, opted to return to the Deccan with the monies. The case of the English trumpeter ‘turn’d Turk’ in the Deccan was yet another episode that seemed to confirm English anxieties about the irresistible power of Islam and the tempting material advantages offered by Islamic polities to European Christians.⁴⁵ Trully’s apostasy also revealed a worrying inability of the EIC to maintain the political and religious allegiances of its men in India. As in the case of William Hawkins’, Trully illustrated the risks of exposing the EIC men to prolonged contact with powerful and wealthy Islamic rulers.

Withington and Kerridge’s references to Trully’s insubordination and apostasy highlighted, above all, Canning’s difficulties in performing his task as an emissary of the EIC. His lack of diplomatic savoir faire, the poor discipline of his entourage and the apparent impossibility of thwarting the Jesuit influence at the Mughal court and establishing a rapport with the emperor or relevant courtiers indicated that the company’s envoy faced several obstacles to obtaining trading privileges from Jahangir. To make things worse, shortly after his audience with the emperor, Canning died on 27 May 1613 without receiving a reply from the Mughal emperor. Thomas Aldworth insinuated that Canning’s poor health and sudden death were related to his clashes with Jadow, the company’s Banyan interpreter, and his two former English assistants, Richard Temple and Edward Hunt⁴⁶—a suggestion that Canning’s failings were a consequence of an ill-prepared entourage.

Canning’s sudden death forced the EIC men in Surat to send Thomas Kerridge to Agra to continue the company’s efforts to obtain a firman, as well as ‘a letter from the king of Agra in answer of our king’s letter’.⁴⁷ In a letter to the company’s hierarchy in London, William Biddulph explained that Kerridge had two tasks. The first was to ensure that the EIC had a representative in Agra that could report on the ‘state of that place & all commodities thereabouts fitting for our country’. The other was to refute the negative image of England propagated by the Jesuit missionaries at the Mughal court. Kerridge had ‘to resolve the king [Jahangir] of all such matters these prating Jesuits put into his head’.⁴⁸ For Biddulph , the Jesuit missionaries emerged as the greatest obstacle found by the EIC in India. The padres enjoyed considerable prestige at the Mughal court, which made them able to influence Jahangir’s perception of the European political theatre. A worried Biddulph alerted the EIC hierarchy that the Jesuits were persuading the emperor that ‘we are a base people and dwell in a little island, and of no force’. To make things worse, the missionaries also revealed to Jahangir that the English ships did not belong to James I, but to ‘a few merchants (…) our king having nothing to do with them, and that the present and letter came from the merchants and not from the king, which he partly believes, our ships coming so seldom’. The influence of the Jesuits derived from their efficient strategies of gift-giving and bribery: ‘these lying Jesuits feeding the king daily with presents and strange toys so that what they desire is granted’.⁴⁹

Kerridge arrived at Agra extremely ill. In a letter to Thomas Aldworth, he mentioned that he ‘could not endure to sit on horseback’ and that it was necessary to hire ‘a catele and 4 men to have me carried to Agra’. After three days of rest, Kerridge informed the Mughal court of his arrival and health problems, being ‘excused for not coming to the King, [as it was] a custom for strangers to be brought before the King at their first entrance’.⁵⁰ Kerridge and Jahangir’s Kotwal scheduled an audience for two days’ time. However, while waiting to be heard by the emperor, Kerridge received the information that Jahangir had postponed the meeting due to the sudden arrival of the Persian ambassador, an emissary from a ruler of far greater relevance and prestige to the Mughal authorities than James I. Indeed, Jahangir would only grant an audience to Kerridge on the following day. Kerridge’s difficulties in being seen by the emperor reveal the marginal position of England in the geopolitical perception of the Mughal authorities. The English were a new group of firangi supplicants, newcomers who, albeit potentially useful to deter the Estado da Índia and expand Mughal overseas trade, lacked the capacity to guide the interests of the Mughal polity. The chaotic English diplomatic manoeuvres at the Mughal court hardly helped to change this perception.

Kerridge recognised that his business was not of immediate concern for Jahangir. Relations between the Mughal and Safavid rulers were becoming increasingly tense. Persia was apparently eager to annex Sindh, and, as Kerridge alerted Aldworth, ‘it is likely that there will be war between them’. The ambassadors from Shah Abbas were a priority for the emperor. Jahangir retained them at the court in an attempt to both ensure a channel of communication and pressure the Safavid authorities by suggesting an imminent breakdown in negotiations by making two emissaries de facto hostages.⁵¹

Kerridge’s first audience with Jahangir was again marked by an English inability to correspond to Mughal expectations. The emperor snubbed with some disdain the gift presented by the EIC envoy, ‘a standing cup (…) weighing 18 pisas, fair in sight but slight’. Although Kerridge believed that Jahangir ‘would have regarded it for the fashion’, the cup did not fit the standards expected by the emperor, who quickly ‘delivered it to an attendant, not esteeming it’.⁵² To Kerridge’s surprise, the Kotwal informed him that Jahangir wanted his hat, which had cost sixteen rupees. In spite of this overture, as had happened with Paul Canning, Jahangir directed Kerridge to negotiate with Muqarrab Khan, the man ‘who had order for the despatch of all such businesses as we had with the King’.⁵³ Kerridge tried to negotiate directly with Jahangir, but with no effect. After conferring with Jahangir, the Kotwal retorted that Kerridge had no option but to deal with Muqarrab Khan since the emperor was ‘in conference with the Persian Ambassador, who stood before him, and that I had my answer to repair to Macrobocan’.⁵⁴

Muqarrab Khan’s dealings with Kerridge often sought to demonstrate Mughal indifference towards England and reinforce the EIC position as a foreign supplicant. The Royal Confidant often frustrated Kerridge’s approaches, and Muqarrab Khan openly ignored the first attempt of the English emissary to start negotiations. According to Kerridge, after spending an entire morning waiting to be received by Muqarrab Khan, ‘word was brought to me that I could not speak with him, being with his women’.⁵⁵ A meeting was only arranged after Jadow persuaded Muqarrab Khan to listen to the English emissary. The first face-to-face meeting between Kerridge and the Royal Confidant was marked again by demonstrations of indifference. Kerridge had to wait three hours to be received until he was taken by one of Muqarrab Khan’s servants ‘into his chamber where he sat in his bed, newly risen from sleep’.⁵⁶

The presentation of the Royal Confidant as a petulant Mughal official in Kerridge’s report suggested that the emissary’s difficulties at the Mughal court were the result of the animosity of a relevant courtier known for his close links to the Portuguese. Muqarrab Khan’s acts of symbolic hostility, however, seemed to be instigated by the Mughal intention to obtain an immediate reparation for Henry Middleton’s attacks on Mughal ships. In his report to Thomas Aldworth, Kerridge mentioned that during his first meeting, Muqarrab Khan had no interest in discussing a reply to James I’s letter to Jahangir or a confirmation of the conditions negotiated by Thomas Best. In fact, Muqarrab Khan reproached the English emissary, presenting him with a ‘large discourse of the wrongs Sir Henry Middleton had done him in robbing their shipping and keeping the chiefs of Surratt prisoners aboard his ship at Swally’.⁵⁷

Surprised by the Mughal grievances, Kerridge replied that the EIC did not approve the recourse to naval violence, but the unreliability and misleading behaviour of the local merchants and authorities instigated Middleton’s campaign against Mughal ships. Kerridge also suggested that the Middleton affair would not have happened had the Mughal authorities allowed the EIC to establish a factory in Surat. This argument prompted a violent reaction from Muqarrab Khan, who retorted that the Mughal authorities had already granted permission to the EIC and that it was the company’s fault that a factory was not yet open, and that Middleton’s actions represented a ‘breach of all’.⁵⁸ For Muqarrab Khan, the EIC posture was thus incomprehensible, since the English persuaded the Mughal authorities to break with the Estado da Índia and simultaneously attacked Mughal merchants. The only solution to avoid a breakdown in Anglo-Mughal relations was for the EIC to reimburse all the losses caused by Middleton and follow all the conditions stipulated by an eventual firman issued by Jahangir.

To add insult to injury, an alarmed Kerridge mentioned that the Royal Confidant stated that the EIC ships ‘brought hither goods of any value to speak of from so far a country, which puts him in doubt we are not merchants, but intend evil towards them [the Mughals]’.⁵⁹ These words were in line with the Portuguese and Jesuit claims that the EIC was not interested in trade, but in fostering English piracy in the Indian Ocean. Aware of the proximity of Muqarrab Khan’s words to the narrative fomented by the Estado da Índia, Kerridge assured the goodwill of the English Crown and the EIC towards the Mughal authorities. In an exercise of nationalist bravado, the English envoy refuted the Jesuit claims, arguing that ‘our nation had continued thousands of years famous before we knew them, and if they denied us trade we doubted not to live as famous without it, wishing him not to believe those prattling, juggling Jesuits but credit rather the experience their own people had of us’.⁶⁰ After this meeting, Kerridge sought to arrange another audience with Muqarrab Khan, but the Mughal nobleman excused himself with indispositions and the need to solve unavoidable businesses. To make things worse, every time that Kerridge sought to enter the imperial palace to arrange an audience with Jahangir, he was barred by the guards.⁶¹

The tense exchange of arguments between Kerridge and Muqarrab Khan revealed the existence of two antagonistic expectations. While the EIC believed that its demonstrations of naval power offered enough leverage to persuade Jahangir to concede trading privileges, the Mughals regarded the English as a new group of firangi supplicants whose presence in Gujarat relied on their submission to Mughal authority. If Best’s victory over the Portuguese galleons in Swally indicated that Jahangir could use the EIC to frustrate the efforts of the Estado da Índia to impose the cartaz system across the Indian Ocean, the raids perpetrated by Henry Middleton against Mughal ships suggested that the EIC was inclined to imitate the Portuguese approach. The emergence of a new and aggressive European maritime actor in the region potentially threatened Mughal naval aspirations and commerce. Muqarrab Khan’s insistence on a restitution of the ships seized by Henry Middleton and on the full adherence of the EIC to all the conditions stipulated by Jahangir’s firman were thus part of a strategy that sought to ensure that the English would not constitute a threat to Mughal interests. This intention to neutralise the potential disruptive effects of the EIC presence was far from being expected by Kerridge. The reduced naval capacity of the Mughal Empire, Jahangir’s interest in expanding overseas trade, and the increasing tensions between the Estado da Índia and the Mughal authorities generated the belief that Jahangir was ready to attend the EIC pretensions. Kerridge’s difficulties in obtaining a firman were thus attributed by the company’s men not to Mughal strategic pursuits, but to the manoeuvres of the Jesuit missionaries and the functioning of Mughal courtly and political structures.

For Kerridge, his travails at the Mughal court and tense exchanges with Muqarrab Khan could be explained by the existence of an economy of favours in which all political business relied on ‘continual gifts both to the king and others’.⁶² To validate this observation, the emissary noted that the apparent Jesuit ability to deal with Mughal officials and shape their perceptions relied on their capacity to respond to the needs of this economy of favours:

Those Jesuits do so bewitch the king &c. with daily presents, as glasses, china dishes, varieties of wine &c., that nothing is denied them, have way to the king at all times, confer and talk with him, live at his charge, none of his Nobles have so easy access, and whom the king graceth they all dare do no other, and whom he respects not, no man regards; they shame not to say, we are a people rebelled subjects to their king, and make us and the Hollanders as one, they allege further our country and prince of no respect nor force, having only one city wherein a few merchants, and that our king hath no hand in this business, which they instanced upon an answer made by Paul Canning to the king at the delivery of the present.⁶³

The only viable solution to counter the Jesuit influence at the Mughal court was thus to wait for the arrival of more English ships with enough power to overcome the Portuguese fleets. A demonstration of English maritime power would persuade the Mughal authorities that the EIC could replace the Estado da Índia as the main maritime power in the region or, in Kerridge own words, ‘affright this people whom nothing but fear will make honest’.⁶⁴ In other words, the EIC needed to change its status from a minor supplicant to a potential partner of the Mughal Empire.

Kerridge’s perception was corroborated by Thomas Aldworth. While reporting the evolution of the negotiations with the Mughal authorities, Aldworth reassured the EIC hierarchy in London that Middleton’s raids on Mughal ships did not pose any risk to English interests. Evoking the impact of the Battle of Swally, Aldworth stated ‘there is no cause of such fear, for that generally they [the Mughals] stand in more fear of us than of the Portingals’.⁶⁵ If the demonstrations of English maritime power convinced the Mughal authorities to listen to the EIC, the commercial opportunities offered by English merchants would inevitably persuade Jahangir and other relevant figures such as Muqarrab Khan to attend the company’s pretensions. As Aldworth noted, the Royal Confidant ‘hath more adventures at sea than any of this country’,⁶⁶ and his trading activities could be seriously disturbed if the EIC opted to continue its strategy of maritime violence. Aldworth believed that it would be a question of time to persuade Muqarrab Khan to collaborate with the EIC. To pressure the emperor’s favourite, Aldworth instructed Kerridge:

to signify unto him that if we should in our persons or goods suffer any detriment in these parts, that thereupon here would come enough of our ships to cover their seas insomuch that neither Moor nor Portingal should stir out of doors and then should he see whether our King and country were so mean as those lying Jesuits have told him.⁶⁷

Kerridge’s reports prompted the EIC hierarchy in London to contemplate the possibility of organising a formal royal embassy to the Mughal court. The idea discussed between September and October 1614 was to send to Agra ‘an ambassador of extraordinary countenance and respect’,⁶⁸ someone possessing the status and political savviness to navigate a courtly milieu and ‘prevent the plotting of the Jesuits’. The name suggested by Thomas Smythe, the company’s governor, was that of Sir Thomas Roe, a member of the gentry, knighted in 1603 by James I, whose career included involvement in the embassy of the Earl of Nottingham to the Spanish court in 1605, as well as participation in the Virginia Company’s exploits in Guiana.⁶⁹ Smythe presented Roe as someone who fitted all the requisites for a courtly ambassador, ‘a gentleman of pregnant understanding, well spoken, learned, industrious, [and] of a comely personage’.⁷⁰ Around the same time that the EIC hierarchy planned to send a royal ambassador, the company’s men in Surat concluded that ‘whosoever should go up to the [Mughal] king under the title of a merchant should not be respected’.⁷¹ These observations echoed the view of many seventeenth-century theorists, who stressed that social status ensured an additional authority and dignity to those who performed diplomatic tasks, but they also reflect a concern in English self-presentation. In settings such as the Mughal court, where the desired projection of English political dignity was often frustrated by the lack of local knowledge about England, as well by a need to improvise or adjust to a different political culture, the reputation or quality of English agents often influenced the evaluation made by foreign polities.

III

The annual letter of the Mughal mission for 1613, written by Manuel Pinheiro, reported that ‘the emperor treats us with love and honour, and the same all his grand captains’.⁷² Jahangir supported the missionaries ‘very abundantly’.⁷³ The funds granted by the emperor were channelled to finance the charitable activities of the Jesuits. Mughal goodwill had also been demonstrated with the emperor’s decision to build a new Jesuit church in Agra.⁷⁴ Despite the favours granted by the emperor, Pinheiro mentioned that Jahangir became suddenly ‘cold’ towards the missionaries. The emperor’s drastic change of attitude was attributed to the manoeuvres of the governor of Khambhat, who persuaded a ‘mestizo [mixed-race] who is a bad man and an enemy of goodness’ to write to Jahangir accusing the Jesuits of being ‘enemies of the king’.⁷⁵

Jerónimo Xavier related Jahangir’s ‘coldness’ to the Jesuit refusal to bring Portuguese women to the Mughal court.⁷⁶ After the return of Muqarrab Khan’s embassy to Agra, the emperor communicated to Manuel Pinheiro his intention to send the Jesuit missionary to the Iberian Peninsula with the task of bringing ‘women to the princes, and a woman from the royal house to the Emperor’. Jahangir suggested to Pinheiro that the proposed matrimonial unions between the Iberian and Mughal dynasties would facilitate his conversion to Christianity. The padre, however, had serious doubts that ‘would be of service to God’. The polygamic habits of the Mughal elites suggested that Jahangir, like many of his subjects, would maintain ‘the inconstancy of picking various women’. Pinheiro confessed that he sought all possible means to delay the embassy, persuading the emperor that the timing of the embassy was not the most convenient for the Iberian authorities.⁷⁷ Jerónimo Xavier believed that Jahangir’s project of establishing matrimonial links between the Timurids and the Iberian Habsburgs was, like the conversion of the three princes, another scheme intended ‘to establish a domestic conversation with the Portuguese’.⁷⁸

The dealings between the Jesuits and Jahangir were, according to Jerónimo Xavier, an exercise in dissimulation. Following the fiasco of the conversion of the three princes, the missionaries believed that the emperor used his nephews to trick the Jesuits and the Estado. Xavier also regarded Muqarrab Khan’s conversion as another example of Mughal deception, a scheme conceived by the emperor’s favourite ‘to make himself trustworthy in the eyes of the Portuguese so they could give him Christian girls and women’.⁷⁹ To support this argument, Xavier noted that upon returning from Goa, the Royal Confidant had ‘never shown any desire to be a Christian’.⁸⁰ The frustrated conversions of the three princes and Muqarrab Khan were thus, in Xavier’s own words, two revealing episodes of Jahangir’s machinations to manipulate the Portuguese and the Jesuits:

It can now be seen where this evil came from, and in the other things related to us he dissimulates and treats us as he usually does, and this is how things are: we dissimulate to avoid the end of the mission, which would be a great loss.⁸¹

Aware of the diplomatic dimension of the mission, Xavier noted that the Jesuits realised that Jahangir continued ‘to dissimulate in the hope of an alliance’.⁸² Besides revealing the dissimulative approach of the Mughal emperor, the failed conversions reinforced Jerónimo Xavier’s doubts on the true intentions of the neophytes who came from Islam. Evoking the edicts that ordered the expulsion of the Morisco, Xavier stated that the conversions of Muslims to Christianity were often dissimulative acts motivated by personal gain. Despite this problem and the discouragingly low number of conversions, the Jesuit mission in Mogor was necessary to support the local Christian communities formed by Armenians, Orthodox and Catholics. The functions of spiritual supervision and political representation performed by the missionaries were, according to Xavier, a guarantee that they would not convert to Islam.⁸³

Despite Jahangir’s ‘coldness’, the opening of the new Jesuit church of Agra attracted ‘an extraordinary number of all sorts of people’.⁸⁴ Although Jahangir was away from the court, Pinheiro noted the presence of many courtiers, including the emperor’s brothers-in-law, being one of the men responsible for the imperial treasury.⁸⁵ As in other letters and reports, Pinheiro highlighted the impact of Christian images and European art on the Hindus and Muslims who visited the Jesuit churches. The Jesuit church in Agra attracted many ‘Moors and Gentiles’ who came to see and make offers to an image of Our Lady.⁸⁶ An image of a Child Jesus caused a commotion involving the Vedor da Fazenda, ‘who could not be departed from that divine child, being prostrated on his knees praying in such manner that no one would say that he was not a Christian’.⁸⁷

Pinheiro guaranteed that all ‘divine feasts’ performed in Agra would be ‘celebrated in our churches with open doors, music and the tolling of bells as we can do in Lisbon with the same security’.⁸⁸ Mass was celebrated ‘with solemnity and musical instruments’⁸⁹ and the missionaries regularly performed ‘public processions’ in Agra, which sometimes included ‘blood penitents’ (disciplinentes de sangue).⁹⁰ The spectacular dimension of the religious ceremonies organised by the Jesuits not only impressed Muslims and Hindus, but also had a profound impact on the local Christians. Pinheiro mentioned the case of one Greek who, while attending a solemn Mass, started to cry and announced his regret for ‘not following the life of a Christian’.⁹¹

The apparent successful integration of the Jesuit mission into Agra’s social and urban landscape fostered the English perception of the padres as well-established politico-religious agents at the Mughal court. However, despite the freedom to open churches and stage public processions in Mughal cities, Jerónimo Xavier believed that the never-ending tensions between the Estado da Índia and the Mughal authorities would eventually put an end to the mission. The persistent presence of EIC emissaries was another worrying factor. While reporting the deeds of the mission in 1613, Jerónimo Xavier expressed his concerns with Jahangir’s unpredictable behaviour towards the missionaries, an attitude that had been stimulated by the arrival of new EIC men:

With the emperor we deal in the usual way, sometimes with less favour, and other times with more. These heretical Englishmen who came here and some bad Christians, and some Moors, after the arrival of the English at the emperor’s ports said to him so many things that sometimes he shows coldness towards us, but he generally dissimulates, and it is not enough to avoid that someday he breaks down with us, given the multitude of enemies we have for reasons of religion and state.⁹²

Writing on 23 September 1613, Xavier’s fears derived from an event that took place a month earlier in Surat. In August 1613, Viceroy Jerónimo de Azevedo instructed the captain of the Armada of Diu, Luís de Brito e Melo, to block Surat and organise a series of punitive attacks against Mughal ships and the port of Porbandar.

In his Década, António Bocarro mentioned that the viceroy wanted to pressure the Mughal authorities ‘for admitting English factors without respecting our friendship’.⁹³ This was in line with the instructions sent from Lisbon and Madrid. On 17 March 1613, Philip III sent a dispatch ordering Azevedo to pressure the Mughal authorities ‘to not allow the English to be sheltered in his lands’.⁹⁴

The reports of the EIC activities in Gujarat and the news of the Battle of Swally recommended the adoption of an aggressive strategy. While the Mughals and other local powers had to be discreetly encouraged to ban English tradesmen, Azevedo should also do his outmost to undermine the EIC across Asia: ‘to the English you will openly do war against them in all places of this Estado, and those who are captured you will punish them accordingly to the laws without sending them to here nor waiting for other orders’.⁹⁵

The apprehension of a set of letters dispatched by Thomas Best, Aldworth and other EIC servants stationed at Surat prompted Philip III to send a series of dispatches to Goa reaffirming the importance of pursuing an aggressive policy vis-à-vis the English. The view from Lisbon and Madrid was that the Estado should immediately thwart the English exploits in Gujarat, ‘so this people will not throw roots, nor continue their dealings and trade, and perpetuate themselves’. Jerónimo de Azevedo ought to ‘wage war against them in such way that they will be lost while entering or leaving Surat’. The proposed blockade of Surat sought to dissuade the EIC. In Philip III’s words, the company’s board and employees were men:

moved by merchandise and the interests and profits they expect to gain, and being a company of private merchants, it is certain that if they get these damages, they will abandon this trade. But if they obtain profits, they will not only continue their trade, but will also expand their forces and power to pursue other and bigger plans which will be necessarily inconvenient to the Estado.⁹⁶

Philip’s instructions to Azevedo were written before the news on the arrest of the ‘ship of Mecca’ reached the Iberian Peninsula. If the viceroy’s decision to blockade Surat anticipated the king’s suggestion, there was still divergence between the king and his viceroy. Philip III and his councilors preferred a cautious posture regarding the Mughals and other local powers. The instructions sent from Lisbon and Madrid did not recommend that Jahangir and the Reis Vizinhos should be militarily coerced to expel the EIC, but instead persuaded through diplomatic means ‘to not shelter this people [the English] in their ports’.⁹⁷ The use of arms was solely destined for the English. The events of 1612 in Swally made the destruction of the EIC naval capacity in Gujarat a priority. As Philip III reminded Azevedo, the Iberian authorities needed to retaliate ‘for the loss and death of many people and reputation’ that occurred during the defeat at Swally.⁹⁸ Azevedo’s more aggressive attitude towards Jahangir was a result of the perception that the Mughal Empire had no intention to be on genuine friendly terms with the Estado. As he explained to Philip III, it was ‘preferable’ for the Estado to not have any communication with the Mughal authorities, whom Azevedo accused of ‘damaging and discrediting’ the Portuguese. Despite the presence of the Jesuit missionaries, who ensured a permanent channel of communication between Goa and the padshah, the viceroy believed that the padres were only useful due to their ability to ‘captiously’ provide intelligence, since the original goal of converting the local population was very far from being achieved.⁹⁹

Among the ships captured by Brito e Melo was the Rahīmī, owned by Maryam-uz-Zamani, Jahangir’s mother.¹⁰⁰ All its cargo was confiscated, and the ship burnt.¹⁰¹ Jerónimo de Azevedo celebrated the capture of the Rahīmī as ‘worthy prey that was brought, and for giving the Mughal a cause of sorrow’.¹⁰²

If Jerónimo de Azevedo expected that the capture of the Rahīmī would pressure Jahangir to concede to the Estado’s request to expell its European rivals from Mughal ports, the padshah used the incident to display Mughal power over the firangi of Goa. Indeed, the seizure and destruction of a ship owned by the ‘Queen-Mother’ prompted an immediate reaction from Jahangir. The attack against the Rahīmī not only questioned Mughal maritime and commercial ambitions, but also invited the suggestion that the Portuguese challenged Jahangir’s authority and prestige by targeting a ship owned by his mother. The absence of a reprisal would thus suggest the emperor’s passivity and acceptance of Portuguese control over Mughal maritime activities. Simultaneously, Brito e Melo’s attack offered an interesting casus belli that allowed the Mughals to resuscitate the old project of launching an expedition against the strategic Portuguese territories of Daman and Diu in Gujarat. The fact that most of the roughly 700 passengers carried by the Rahīmī were pilgrims coming from Mecca offered an opportunity for the emperor to display his credentials as a champion of Islam by punishing the aggressions of the infidel firangi.

In his memoirs, Jahangir presented the Luso-Mughal crisis as an inevitable outcome of the persistent hostile actions undertaken by the Portuguese that breached all the previous agreements celebrated by the Estado da Índia and the Mughal Empire. Alluding to the Luso-Mughal negotiations of 1610–1611, Jahangir accused the Estado da Índia of acting ‘contrary to treaty’ and engaging in hostile behaviour that, in Jahangir’s own words, was ‘very disagreeable to my mind’.¹⁰³ The capture of the Rahīmī was thus a clear attack against Mughal sovereignty that targeted the figure of the emperor and the freedom of movement of his subjects in the seas of Hindustan. After being informed of Brito e Melo’s exploits in Surat, Jahangir instructed Muqarrab Khan to ‘to obtain compensation for this affair’.¹⁰⁴

To pressure the Estado da Índia, Jahangir ordered the arrest of all the Portuguese residing in Mughal territories and the confiscation of all their property, a measure that sought to disrupt the commercial networks linking Goa to other South Asian hubs. The Jesuit missionaries were another target of Jahangir’s retaliation. On 8 July 1614, the churches of Agra and Lahore were closed, and the financial support granted by the Mughal treasury cancelled.¹⁰⁵ To make things worse, the missionaries were ordered to leave Agra within eight days. A concerned Francesco Corsi feared that ‘grievances’ (disgosti) between the Mughals and the Estado da Índia would weaken and marginalise the heterogenous Christian communities of Jahangir’s empire. Cast out from the court, without their residence and funds, the Jesuit missionaries faced a dire situation. The lack of regular funding from Jahangir’s treasury reduced the padres to poverty and impeded them from maintaining their charitable works, a key instrument of Jesuit proselytising in Lahore and Agra. Besides impeding the activities of the missionaries, Jahangir’s retaliation weakened a heterogenous Christian community, which suddenly lost the actors that had been able to organise the community and represent its interests at the Mughal court. As Corsi noted, the emperor’s measures generated many fears among the local Christians, who ‘day and night shed tears (…) for being departed from their shepherds’.¹⁰⁶ While some Christians continued to contact the missionaries and to publicly perform their religious practices, many feared that the Mughal authorities would start a wave of repression against the community. Corsi, for example, mentions that ‘some merchants from Venice, Poland and Armenia discreetly closed their houses’.¹⁰⁷

More importantly, the marginalisation of the Jesuit missionaries, the de facto legates of the Estado da Índia at the Mughal court, implied a total diplomatic breakdown with the Portuguese authorities. The sudden downfall of the padres suggested that Jahangir decided to put an end to an operation that served as a channel of direct communication between the Mughal court and Goa. To confirm the rupture, Jahangir also abandoned his attempts to establish a symbolic affiliation between the Portuguese monarchy and the Mughal imperial family. Jerónimo Xavier reported that shortly after the eruption of the Luso-Mughal crisis, the emperor forced the baptised Mughal princes to apostatise.¹⁰⁸ The return of Jahangir’s nephews and Philip III’s godsons to Islam was thus a symbolic gesture that not only terminated the links between the Mughal polity and the Catholic Church, but above all materialised the collapse of Luso-Mughal relations by ending the spiritual kinship between the Mughal princes and the Iberian monarch.

Writing in 1615, António Machado presented a less bleak situation for the Jesuits and the Estado. Although their buildings were closed and the imperial grants frozen, the padres still had direct access to Jahangir. The emperor had dispatched Jerónimo Xavier to Goa to negotiate a solution to the crisis with the viceroy. Jahangir also ordered Francesco Corsi to follow him and the rest of the court to Ajmer in 1613, while Machado left Lahore to join José de Castro in Agra to help assist the local Christians.¹⁰⁹ Machado’s reports from Agra suggested thus that the emperor still regarded the missionaries as relevant intermediaries in his dealings with the ‘Franks of Goa’. A similar perception can be found in the correspondence of Jerónimo Xavier. In a letter addressed to Tomás de Ituren, written on 4 December 1615, Jerónimo de Xavier recalled his involvement in the Luso-Mughal crisis, mentioning that Jahangir dispatched him to Goa, ‘telling us to go and complain to the Viceroy of what he was doing against us’.¹¹⁰ The Navarrese missionary regarded Jahangir’s retaliatory measures as part of a stratagem designed to simulate a conflict with the Estado da Índia, while the Jesuits discreetly mediated a solution to the conflict. In Xavier’s own words, the emperor did ‘a trick to make me arrange with the Viceroy about peace, and to conceal the fact that he was asking for it’.¹¹¹ According to one report sent by Viceroy Jerónimo de Azevedo to Philip III, the Navarrese missionary was warmly welcomed in Surat by Muqarrab Khan with ‘great demonstrations of friendship’ and guarantees that there was the Mughal authorities had no intention of granting trading privileges to the EIC.¹¹²

The Mughal overtures to open talks with Goa are also mentioned in Jerónimo de Azevedo’s correspondence with Philip III. The Portuguese viceroy reported that he had been contacted by Muqarrab Khan to reach a rapid solution.¹¹³ However, these initial contacts seemed to have failed amid the increasing tensions provoked by the frequent skirmishes between Mughal and Portuguese troops near Daman in the final months of 1613. In May 1614, a Mughal army besieged Daman and raided the surrounding villages. Four months later, there was another Mughal incursion that, according to Jerónimo de Azevedo, ‘was totally devastated’.¹¹⁴ The Portuguese responded to these attacks by blocking the ports of Surat and Khambhat, and launching a series of raids, which culminated in an attack against the Mughal fortress of Broach, ‘setting on fire the settlement, seventeen Moorish ships and several other ships causing considerable damages to the enemy’.¹¹⁵ In retaliation for these ‘hard knocks’, to quote Jerónimo Xavier, the Mughal authorities in Surat imprisoned Xavier and another Jesuit companion.¹¹⁶

According to Jerónimo Xavier, the persistent rumours that a large Portuguese fleet commanded by Viceroy Jerónimo de Azevedo himself was en route to attack Surat and expel the English from Gujarat prompted Jahangir to accelerate the negotiations in 1615. Fearing the imminent escalation of the conflict, the emperor ordered Xavier’s release from confinement and dispatched the Jesuit to discuss the conditions for a peace treaty with Azevedo.¹¹⁷

While Xavier’s version of the 1615 Luso-Mughal negotiations implied a Mughal fragility, by suggesting Jahangir was concerned not to allow the conflict to escalate to a higher and more unpredictable level, one anonymous Portuguese pamphlet described the negotiations as a Mughal triumph. Written as a fictional letter sent by a Portuguese official involved in the negotiations to his brother, the pamphlet described the talks as a performance of Mughal superiority over the Estado made possible by Jerónimo de Azevedo’s lack of political and diplomatic savviness.

The narrative of the Luso-Mughal negotiations and the negative portrait of the viceroy offered by the pamphlet touched the main concerns of the Iberian authorities. Indeed, this document should be analysed against the backdrop of the reactions of Philip III to the Luso-Mughal crisis, in particular the inquiry launched against those involved in the capture of the nau de Meca, including Jerónimo de Azevedo. The news of the arrest of the Rahīmī and Jahangir’s reaction generated considerable apprehension in Lisbon and Madrid. Philip III reprimanded the viceroy for the capture of the ‘nau of Mecca’ and the raid on Por since Jahangir ‘was in peace and friendship with me’. The king and his councils feared that the Rahīmī affair would not only undermine the efforts made since the 1580 s to establish a Luso-Mughal alliance, but also damage the reputation of the Hispanic Monarchy in South Asia and encourage other regional powers to support the Estado’s European rivals. As Philip III explained to Azevedo:

I cannot be more displeased with the fact that we are at war with the Mughal, a war that he [Jahangir] did not start, and it is against my service to wage war against the kings who have friendship with the Estado, not only when the Estado is less troubled by its enemies, but especially in these times when, due to this scandal, these rulers might publicly welcome the enemies of Europe in their ports.¹¹⁸

The damage caused by the Battle of Swally recommended thus some caution in the diplomatic dealings of the Estado. However, as the pamphlet suggested, Azevedo’s willingness to reach a quick solution to the conflict allowed Jahangir to force the viceroy to act not as the representative of the monarch of an equal imperial polity such as the Hispanic Monarchy but as that of a subordinate, minor power. Indeed, the narration of the Luso-Mughal crisis provided by the Jahangirnama presents Azevedo as a weakened supplicant who, after being defeated by the English, ‘fled and sent a messenger to Muqarrab Khan, the governor of the Gujarat ports, and proposed a truce, saying, “We have come for peace, not war. The English have stirred up this war”’.¹¹⁹

Throughout the negotiations, Azevedo allowed Muqarrab Khan to adopt a hostile attitude. The members of the legation sent to Surrat by the Portuguese viceroy, although ‘brightly and distinctively dressed’ (lustrosa e vistosamente vestidos) as a demonstration of their diplomatic dignity and the Estado’s prestige, were forced to disembark and stay on the outskirts of the Gujarati city.¹²⁰ For around six days, the Portuguese emissaries waited for Muqarrab Khan to grant them a meeting. During this time, the Estado’s representatives ‘lived under a tent’, a lodging arrangement that overtly contradicted their dignity as diplomatic agents of the Portuguese viceroy.¹²¹

The Royal Confidant constantly presented different excuses to delay a meeting. Azevedo’s emissaries had to turn to the services of Manuel Pinheiro to start the negotiations. After a meeting between the Mughal official and the Jesuit missionary, the Portuguese legation finally obtained a response. Jahangir’s condition for a peace treaty was a compensation of 800,000 cruzados for the damages caused by the Portuguese.¹²² For the Mughals, this was not a negotiation between equals, but a conflict with a minor subordinate power that acted against Mughal sovereignty. Indeed, the compensation demanded by the emperor could be interpreted as a veiled form of tribute. According to the pamphlet, after Jahangir revealed the conditions for a Luso-Mughal peace treaty, Muqarrab Khan sent Viceroy Jerónimo de Azevedo an emissary carrying two baskets to be filled ‘with some wine from Portugal, olives and capers’.¹²³ This defiant act prompted Azevedo to threaten Muqarrab Khan with ‘a war that would force him to beg for peace’. However, the viceroy’s promise was never fulfilled. For the author of the pamphlet, the viceroy’s warning was an illustrative example of his inability to protect or enhance the Estado’s reputation vis-à-vis the Mughals. Azevedo was accused of being ‘only good to talk, and even this he does so slowly that he only starts to talk after passing many hours, and this is the ultimate proof of his utility’.

Azevedo’s inability to counter Muqarrab Khan’s symbolic attacks on the Estado’s dignity thus exposed the viceroy’s lack of political savviness. By negotiating during a moment of fragility in public through formal diplomatic channels, Azevedo allowed the Mughal authorities to downgrade the status of the Estado da Índia. Indeed, as the pamphlet suggests, the negotiations only progressed when the Portuguese turned to Manuel Pinheiro. The padre’s position as an informal diplomatic mediator ensured the necessary discretion to negotiate a treaty under unfavourable conditions without exposing the Estado’s powerlessness to counter Mughal geopolitical goals.

As António Bocarro mentioned in his Década, during the initial stages of the Luso-Mughal negotiations, Manuel Pinheiro ensured that the ‘errands and messages’ (recados e mensagens) from both sides reached their destination.¹²⁴ The mediating function of the padre seemed also to be a request from Muqarrab Khan. According to Bocarro, the Royal Confidant asked Gonçalo Pinto da Fonseca, the head of the Portuguese legation, to use only one channel of negotiation to avoid the involvement of other agents. The intention was to limit negotiations to a restricted circle of reliable interlocutors, mediated by trustworthy agents such as Manuel Pinheiro, and thus prevent a scenario in which the terms and conditions proposed by each side varied according to the different channels. Muqarrab Khan seemed not only to be concerned with the effectiveness of the negotiating process, but also in ensuring that he was able to impede the involvement of other agents with agendas that differed from his own interests.

While in the anonymous pamphlet Muqarrab Khan emerges as a hostile figure who was extremely zealous in enhancing Mughal superiority, the Década of António Bocarro offers a more positive portrait of the role of the Royal Confidant. For Bocarro, one of the official chroniclers of the Estado da Índia, the Mughal grandee was still Dom João de Távora. The letters sent from him to Estado officials were extremely cordial and expressed an intention to find a balanced solution to the conflict. The delays during the negotiations were apparently not caused by Mughal hostility, but by the health problems of Muqarrab Khan’s wife.

In his letter to Gonçalo Pinto da Fonseca, Muqarrab Khan insinuated that his conversion to Catholicism had been genuine. The letter started with an evocation of Jesus Christ and an apology for what seemed dissimulative behaviour: ‘Your Honour had probably considered to be scandalous that in such a serious business it seemed that I was not acting as I ought’. The letter suggested the existence of a close bond between Muqarrab Khan and the Portuguese. Pinto da Fonseca was reassured that he had in the Mughal grandee ‘a friend’ who would serve him ‘everywhere with the same love he has for all the friends he has among the Portuguese’. Bocarro noted that all the letters sent by Muqarrab Khan to Goa ‘have the name of Jesus, as well as a cross, everything according to our custom’. This ‘accommodation’ to Portuguese customs was attributed to the role of Jerónimo Xavier, Manuel Pinheiro and João Borges, the three Jesuits who, ‘with much prudence and virtue’, served as mediators during the Luso-Mughal conflict.¹²⁵

The Jesuits and Muqarrab Khan concluded the negotiations with a treaty described by Xavier as ‘honourable to the Portuguese’. The treaty established that the Mughal Empire would not have any commercial or diplomatic relations with England and the Dutch Republic. Indeed, the rhetoric of the first clause presented the EIC and the Dutch East Indies Company (VOC-Vereenigde Oost Indische Compagnie) as a common threat. The events that paved the way for the Luso-Mughal crisis ‘had shown that the English and the Dutch, under the cover of merchants, came to India to settle and conquer these lands, since they live in Europe in great need and poverty’.¹²⁶ To deter the threat posed by the English and Dutch East Indies companies, the Mughal authorities agreed ‘to not shelter them, nor to provide them provisions or give them any other help’.¹²⁷ Jahangir also consented that the Estado da Índia could intervene militarily in Gujarat to expel the members of the EIC and VOC. Similar conditions were also established by the sixth clause, which allowed Portuguese ships to enter in Mughal ports to capture the ‘Malabari pirates’.¹²⁸

In exchange for these conditions, which interfered with Mughal imperial sovereignty, the treaty included a series of clauses that sought to benefit the commercial ventures of the Mughal imperial family. Regarding the apprehension of the Rahīmī, the Estado agreed that Jahangir could take possession of up to 70,000 xerafins from the properties confiscated from Portuguese subjects as a compensation for the losses suffered by the arrest of the ship.¹²⁹ The Estado also agreed to concede two cartazes to the Mughal emperor for a special period of two years for ships bond to Hormuz. The document established that all Portuguese subjects residing in Mughal territories and Mughals living in the Estado da Índia who had been arrested should be immediately released if they had not converted to Islam or Christianity.¹³⁰

Although regarded as a ‘honourable’ agreement by the Estado da Índia, Jahangir initially refused to ratify the treaty. Indeed, the treaty limited the interactions of the Mughal Empire with other European powers and restricted Mughal overseas trade by binding it to the Portuguese cartaz system. Instead of affirming Mughal imperial sovereignty over the Estado da Índia, one of Jahangir’s concerns, the treaty aligned the Mughal polity to the geopolitical interests of the Hispanic Monarchy. According to Jerónimo Xavier, the emperor wanted to review the clauses and ‘asked for new conditions which the Portuguese would not agree’. To avoid an impasse, the emperor ‘yielded’, but the situation in Gujarat did not change. The Mughal authorities continued to allow English merchants and ships to operate in Surat and Khambhat. As one anonymous Portuguese manuscript describing Azevedo’s failed campaigns in Gujarat noted, despite the peace treaty, the English ships arrived at Surrat ‘as if they were in the River of London’.¹³¹

IV

The EIC followed the conflict between the Portuguese and Mughals attentively. William Biddulph and Thomas Aldworth reported from Surat Jahangir’s retaliatory measures against the Portuguese with some enthusiasm. The report highlighted the closure of the Jesuit churches and the emperor’s decision to exile ‘[Jerónimo] Xavier the great Jesuit, whom before he loved, to be sent down hither unto Mocrob Chan, who now layeth siege unto Damaen, to do with him as he shall see good’.¹³² The news of the Luso-Mughal crisis received by the EIC men suggested a profound change in the ways in which the Mughal authorities would deal with the firangi.

The conflict between Jahangir and the Estado indicated that the Portuguese would be replaced as the preferred firangi partners of the Mughal Empire. Biddulph and Aldworth noted that since the eruption of the Luso-Mughal crisis, the Mughal authorities adopted had a new attitude towards the English. The EIC servants had now ‘as much liberty as ourselves can with reason desire, and all these people here generally much more affecting us than the Portingals, and showing us kindness in what they may’.¹³³ The Luso-Mughal crisis offered thus a unique opportunity to secure an English presence in Gujarat and other Mughal provinces. While the Estado and Jahangir were at odds, the EIC had a favourable situation where, as Aldworth and Biddulph noted, ‘we might do great good in matter of trade’.¹³⁴ The contacts between the English factory at Surat and several local luminaires indicated that the Mughal authorities were willing to support the presence of the EIC and to establish not only a commercial partnership, but also a military one: ‘They all here much wish for the coming of our English ships, not only for trade but to help them, for as they say the coming of our ships will much daunt the Portingals’.¹³⁵ Jahangir , as William Edwards reported to the company’s board in London, seemed to be determined to expel the Portuguese from Gujarat, in spite of the Portuguese attempts to end the crisis:

Great means is made by the Portingals for a reconciliation, offering restitution of the aforesaid ship and goods, but no acceptance will be had. The Mogore his answer is: he will have all his country under his own subjection, and will be no more subject to them as heretofore.¹³⁶

The language used by William Edwards is very similar to the rhetoric of the Jahangirnama or the Tazuk-i-Jahangiri, products of imperial propaganda that exalted Jahangir’s authority and his deeds. Edwards had probably established contacts with Mughal officials who presented him a narrative of events that offered a perception of Mughal inflexibility towards the Estado da Índia and deliberately ignored the ongoing discreet démarches made by the emperor to normalise Luso-Mughal relations. The perception of an irreversible breakdown between Mughals and Portuguese insinuated that Jahangir would be willing to cooperate with the EIC or the Dutch VOC.

Among the Mughal luminaries who contacted the EIC was Muqarrab Khan. Although instructed by Jahangir to negotiate a solution with the Portuguese, the Royal Confidant actively explored the possibility of involving the English in the conflict to put more pressure on the Estado da Índia and obtain naval resources to hinder the Portuguese fleets in Gujarat. In a letter to the EIC board, Downton mentioned that after the arrival of the new English fleet in October 1614, Muqarrab Khan, ‘our arch-enemy’, gave him an unexpectedly warm welcome and proposed a partnership against the Estado da Índia. The Mughal authorities were ready to confirm the trading privileges promised to the EIC in exchange for naval support. Both Nicholas Downton and William Edwards mention in their reports that Muqarrab Khan wanted to use English ships to support the Mughal siege of Daman and dissuade the Estado’s fleets that targeted Surat and other Gujarati ports.¹³⁷ The proposal made to Downton followed a series of previous contacts between Muqarrab Khan and other EIC agents. In his journal, Nicholas Downton mentions, for example, that Thomas Aldworth lobbied him to collaborate with the Mughal nobleman and ‘strived to perswade me that Mocrib Can the Nabob was our friend, and that now was the best time, by reason of their warres (with the Portugals), for us to obtaine good trade and all priviledges that in reason wee could demand’.¹³⁸

Downton, however, refused the Mughal proposal, arguing that the commission granted by James I impeded him from being involved in foreign conflicts.¹³⁹ This negative response was an attempt to gain more time to assess Muqarrab Khan’s real intentions and the evolution of the Luso-Mughal crisis. Indeed, the EIC was not the only European rival of the Estado that received an interesting proposal for collaboration. Rumours also circulated in Surat that the Royal Confidant had contacted the Dutch factors at Masulipatnam ‘promising them Damon when it is taken from the Portugals’.¹⁴⁰ Downton feared that the offer made by Jahangir’s favourite could ‘bee an injurie forced by him to crosse us, and not by the direction of the King’.¹⁴¹

Writing from Ajmer, the new seat of Jahangir’s court, Thomas Kerridge corroborated Downton’s cautious approach towards Muqarrab Khan, but also stressed the need to persuade the Royal Confidant to support the EIC. Kerridge believed that the recent Mughal overtures towards the English were part of a strategy ‘to bring the Portugal to a better conclusion in the restoration of their goods than in favour unto us as they pretend’.¹⁴² However, the perception that the concession of trading privileges to the EIC was imminent should also be reconsidered. The subahdar of Ahmadnagar, the main instigator of the agreement, was revealed to be ‘only a deputy and not so great in respect with the king as we accounted’, meaning that the agreement negotiated by Thomas Best had no practical effect. Besides, the recent death of the two Mughal officials who lobbied for the concession of a firman to the English forced the EIC to deal with Muqarrab Khan. Based on his experiences at the Mughal court, Kerridge warned ‘none here will take notice’ of the EIC if the company was unable to find an influential interlocutor at the imperial court. Despite the previous tense exchanges with Muqarrab Khan, the fact that he was the man whom Jahangir consulted for ‘matters of consequence’ forced the company to use all its arguments to attract the Royal Confidant. The English envoy believed Downton should use the presence of English ships in Surat to persuade the Mughal courtier through displays of English maritime power, or by arguing the advantages of using the EIC ships to expand the Royal Confidant’s involvement in overseas trade.¹⁴³

Other servants of the EIC, however, believed the company should maintain a neutral position during the Luso-Mughal crisis. Thomas Elkington was aware that the company needed to establish a good rapport with Muqarrab Khan, who is again described as a key actor in Mughal politics who was able to dictate Jahangir’s policies vis-à-vis the firangi:

Whatsoever good is to be expected from the Court must be by means of this man here, the king referring all concerning us unto him and will not do anything on our behalf but what from him he shall be advised.¹⁴⁴

Conscious of the necessity to accept almost all the conditions stipulated by Muqarrab Khan to operate in Gujarat and other Mughal provinces, the EIC men in Surat adopted a careful approach that sought to avoid direct involvement in the conflict and distract the Royal Confidant. The EIC belatedly realised that the only way to find success was through the Royal Confidant: ‘which if we had been formerly to understand so much, and so to have in some more milder sort tempered ourselves by giving way to some of his lesser requests it would have gained us much time and trouble’.¹⁴⁵ However, the intensification of the Luso-Mughal crisis, and Muqarrab Khan’s pressure to include EIC ships in the Mughal campaigns against the Estado da Índia, suggested that the company’s men needed to continue their dissimulative strategy. The objective, as Elkington noted, was to maintain English neutrality and simultaneously obtain a firman from Jahangir. The problem, however, resided in persuading the Mughal emperor to accept the EIC position or, as Elkington put it, ‘given him some reasonable satisfaction’.¹⁴⁶

Muqarrab Khan’s contacts with the EIC served as a pretext to send another embassy to Ajmer to negotiate directly with Jahangir. Thomas Aldworth believed that the company required a resident agent at the Mughal court, ‘a man of good fashion and esteem’ who could actively promote English interests. The intention was to send a trustworthy EIC servant who could act as the de facto resident ambassador. The man elected was William Edwards, one of the EIC employees who came in Downton’s fleet. This choice seemed to have not been motivated by Edward’s ‘good fashion and esteem’, but by the need to avoid an internal conflict. The new emissary was initially destined to direct the EIC affairs in Surat. However, Thomas Aldworth, the man responsible for maintaining the company’s operations in Surat, resisted being replaced by a newcomer, forcing a decision that would satisfy both sides, keeping Aldworth in charge of the Surat ‘factory’ and offering Edwards a prestigious role as the new emissary to the Mughal court.¹⁴⁷

More important than picking a name for the embassy was the title that should be used by the EIC representative. Troubled by the previous experiences at the Mughal court, the company men understood that to send an envoy ‘under the title and profession of a merchant’ would hinder the negotiations and the prestige of the English in the region. To avoid the repetition of the troubles faced by Paul Canning and Thomas Kerridge, William Edwards would travel to Ajmer not as an ambassador from James I, but ‘under the title of a messenger sent by our king to the Great Mogore’.¹⁴⁸

To guarantee an adequate reception to Edwards, Aldworth instructed Thomas Kerridge, who was still at Jahangir’s court, to announce the imminent arrival of another English envoy who would bring ‘a letter with other great presents from our King’s Majesty’s own hand for the Mogul and not from the merchants as heretofore, and therefore to be respected thereafter’. The presents destined for the emperor emphasised the international prestige of the Mughal Empire and the royal nature of the new English legation. Among the gifts sent from London was a portrait of Tamberlaine, the founder of the Timurids, which the EIC hoped would impress Jahangir. Another highlight was a gift that deliberately sought to establish a bond between Jahangir and James I: ‘a vest royal for the king himself with the pictures of our king and queen’.¹⁴⁹

Edwards and his entourage arrived at Ajmer around 1 February 1615. In a letter to the EIC board, Edwards mentioned that he ‘was very honourably entertained’ by Asaf Khan (Usseph Chan). The Mughal nobleman approached the English messenger and told him that he would be his liaison agent with Jahangir and the rest of the court. The word used by Edwards is ‘Procuradore’ (sic), a Portuguese word used to describe agents who represent a third party. Edwards presents Asaf Khan as a relevant figure within Jahangir’s court, ‘one of the principal respected gentlemen of the Emperor’s court, brother to the chief and best-beloved queen’. This prominent status was promptly used in favour of the EIC legation. Asaf Khan, according to Edwards’ letter, ensured swift communication with Jahangir and other key figures at the court, actively promoting English interests and ‘furthering of our respect’. Edwards also gained the support of Mahabut Chan, ‘the king’s minion’, who helped the company’s messenger with ‘many worthy offices’. The backing of these two prominent courtiers seemed to have attracted the sympathy of other Mughal noblemen and high-ranking officials. As Edwards confidently noted to his superiors, after mentioning the good services of Asaf Khan and Mahabut Khan, ‘generally our cause is favoured of all’.¹⁵⁰ Thomas Kerridge ’s correspondence with the EIC board corroborated Edwards’ positive reception by Jahangir. Kerridge confirmed that the emperor made ‘much show of affection’ when he received a letter from his English counterpart. The gifts sent by the EIC and James I also pleased the padshah, in particular one cloak much admired by Jahangir, ‘not having seen such work before’.¹⁵¹ Throughout his first audience with Edwards, the emperor made ‘very many affectionate speeches and promises’ and stated his sympathy for James I and intention to establish an alliance with England. Indeed, Edwards received the promise that Jahangir would reply to the letters from the English king and ‘send him his picture with a present’.¹⁵²

Edwards’ warm reception at the Mughal court, however, was not solely motivated by Jahangir’s fondness for James I. The day before the first audience with the English ‘messenger’, the emperor received a letter from Muqarrab Khan reporting Azevedo’s defeat at Swally. The news of another sound defeat of the Portuguese fleets at the hands of the EIC impressed the Mughal court. Kerridge mentioned that Jahangir ‘much applauded our people’s resolution, saying his country was before them, to do therein whatsoever ourselves desired, speaking very despitefully and reproachfully of the Portingals’.¹⁵³ While commenting on the second Battle of Swally, Jahangir, according to Thomas Mitford’s report, ‘did much commend the valours of the English, saying that he was endeared unto us for defending his port of Surrat (for of purpose the Portingalls came to have taken it, and so would have done if we had not been there to defend it)’.¹⁵⁴

After describing Jahangir’s reaction to the presents from the EIC, Edwards recommended sending a new set of gifts, which should include more paintings (in particular the cheap ‘small creased picture[s]’ that were ‘little regarded’ in England and ‘much esteemed’ in India); crossbows for Jahangir’s hunting armoury; ‘turkeycocks and hens’ for the imperial menagerie; an ensemble of musicians ‘with a sweet voice or two’ and two paintings on ‘the fight of ‘88 and our Saviour’s passion’.¹⁵⁵ The inclusion of musicians and paintings in the next assemblage of English gifts to the padshah allowed the EIC not only to compete with the padres, but above all to emerge as a viable alternative to the apparently increasingly ostracised Jesuit missionaries as suppliers of European cultural novelties. The suggestion to add an image of Christ’s Passion indicates an intention to play to the Mughal interest in the Christian imaginary, and eventually undermine the Jesuits’ role as the preferred source for European religious art. Edwards seemed thus to plan an English retaliation against Portuguese and Jesuit soft and symbolic power. This intention is patent in the proposal to send a painting evoking the defeat of the Spanish Armada in 1588, an event that evoked English superiority over the Iberian Crowns and that could be easily correlated to the English victories over Portuguese fleets at Swally witnessed by the Mughals.

Edwards faced, however, some problems. With no knowledge of Persian, Kerridge and Edwards decided to translate the letter from English to Portuguese so that an Armenian servant of Asaf Khan could render it into Persian. The contents of the letter and the quality of the Portuguese translation made by the two English agents raised some issues. The main problem was the unsuitable style in which James I addressed Jahangir. According to Kerridge, the Armenian translator ‘disliking the style, altered the manner of it clean, adding to his own King’s greatness, yet careful in reserving the substance of the matter, though in another form’.¹⁵⁶ The solution taken by the Armenian translator seemed to have pleased both sides. Jahangir revealed no displeasure with the contents of the letter, and the English were pleased to see that the new version had ‘nothing derogating from the greatness of our King’.¹⁵⁷ Indeed, a similar problem occurred when the Mughal secretaries drafted the emperor’s reply to James I. According to Edwards, the padshah revealed some concern with the style used to address his English counterpart: ‘The King having given order for the framing of a letter to our King, after it was finished and ready for the seal the Mogul perusing the same disliked it for not sufficiently displaying the title, honour and attributes of our King, interlined the same with his own band in a more respective manner, as may appear in the said letter’.¹⁵⁸

In his correspondence with the EIC hierarchy, Thomas Kerridge reported several problems related to Edwards’ dubious behaviour. Contrary to his commission, Edwards presented himself as an ambassador throughout his time at the Mughal court, an apparent act of disobedience that the EIC messenger justified as necessary ‘for the Reputation of our buisines’.¹⁵⁹ Fearing a repetition of the episodes involving John Mildenhall and William Hawkins, ‘as his he might disgrace our King and country’, Kerridge discreetly approached different Mughal courtiers and ‘showed them the difference twixt an ambassador and a private messenger, which they apprehended sufficiently and were well satisfied’.¹⁶⁰ Besides usurping the status of ambassador, Edwards misappropriated monies that should have been destined for the EIC.¹⁶¹

The conflict between Kerridge and Edwards became public after an incident over the display of a portrait of Thomas Smith, the EIC governor. According to Kerridge, Edwards was reticent to present the portrait to Jahangir during the gift-exchange ritual performed during Norouz. Some days after the festival, Edwards finally presented the painting with an adequate frame to Jahangir, but still without mentioning the identity of the subject. Kerridge, who was present at the meeting, reported to Smith that he had to declare to the emperor ‘who you were, your place etc. I estranged at this kind of proceeding, for that long before in my presence Thomas Mitforde told Mr. Edwards that your picture with a fitting present for the grace of the company and business were appointed to be delivered in your Worship’s name, which had been very requisite for divers respects’.¹⁶²

Kerridge’s reports on Edwards’ behaviour suggested that the new English emissary discreetly covered up the fact that he was a direct subordinate and a delegate from the governor of the EIC. Indeed, Edwards seemed thus to have acted with the intention to foment only direct contact between Jahangir and James I, an option that was in line with the perception that the Mughal authorities undervalued English diplomatic overtures due to the mercantile status of its emissaries. However, by disregarding the fact that the EIC hierarchy also aspired to establish a direct rapport with the padshah, the main reason for the inclusion of Thomas Smith’s portrait, Edwards’ strategy could be easily interpreted as an act of insubordination, a perception that is present in Kerridge’s accusation that Edwards usurped the title of ambassador against the instructions of his superiors. Kerridge’s report also suggest the existence of a conflict over the role and range of action of the two English emissaries at the Mughal court. The tension between the two men is obvious in Kerridge’s complaint to Smith regarding the way his colleague acted in an almost authoritarian way that went beyond the scope of his functions:

Mr. Edwards in his carriage here seemeth absolute, for [he] conferreth not of any business publicly nor will hear of councils, only privately with me and others for the bettering of his intelligence in things needful, which I freely advised, expecting that all of us should have been partakers of his general letter, but he of more provident experience hath only made use of my simplicity, which so long as it tendeth to the general good I may not be ashamed of my oversight.¹⁶³

Kerridge’s complaints are corroborated by Nicholas Withington, who also denounced Edwards for allegedly usurping the title of ambassador. Withington made an even more serious accusation, mentioning that Edwards manipulated the contents of the letters sent from the English monarch to Jahangir. Probably alluding to the problems reported by Edwards related to the translation of the letters, Withington stated in his account that the EIC messenger deliberately used the translation process to his own benefit, ‘addinge and diminishing what seemed beste for his owne purpose and commoditie, either to or from yt, and soe presented his translation to the Great Mogul, with the present sente him by the marchaunts’.¹⁶⁴

Besides the serious accusations of violating and manipulating the king’s letters, Withington highlighted the inability of ‘our would-be ambassador’ to act as a bona fide representative of James I. Edwards was a ‘mecannycal fellowe’ who lacked the dignity and savoir faire required by the office of the ambassador. In other words, Withington accused Edwards of not only assuming a function that was not attributed to him, but also of trying to appropriate the social status associated with those appointed to ambassadorial posts. Such accusations echoed the concern of most early modern treaties dedicated to the office of the ambassador, which emphasised the importance of recruiting well-educated and politically savvy individuals with impeccable aristocratic credentials who could reflect and enhance the prestige of a prince or polity.¹⁶⁵ Due to his social background and professional trajectory, William Edwards failed the basic requirements to perform ambassadorial duties and navigate the intricate ways of a foreign court. Indeed, Withington linked the plebeian origin of the ‘would-be ambassador’ to his inability to efficiently represent a ‘worthye and greate a prince as the Kinge of England’. Such apparent ineptitude is exemplified by an episode in which Edwards was unable to demonstrate to the imperial guards that he was an English emissary, being.

kicked and spurned by the King’s porters out of the courte-gates, to the unrecoverable disgrace of our Kinge and nation, hee never speakinge to the Kinge for redresse, but carryinge those greate dishonours like a good asse, makinge himselfe and our nation a laughing stock to all people in general, to the greate rejoyeinge of the Portungales, whoe openlye divulged the disgrace of the English ambassador receaved, by letters throughout all the countrye.¹⁶⁶

This episode is confirmed by Sir Thomas Roe, who mentioned that Edwards ‘carried himselfe with such Complacency that hath bredd a low reputation of our Nation’.¹⁶⁷

More interesting is the accusation made by Withington that Edwards used his alleged ambassadorial status to petition Jahangir ‘to obtayne licence from him to inflicte justice upon all Englishmen (malefactors) in his dominions by execution to death or other bodilye punishmente, according to our English lawes; which the Mogull denyed him’.¹⁶⁸ If successful, Edwards’ petition would have established an arrangement of legal extraterritoriality similar to the one enjoyed by the Levant Company in the Ottoman Empire. The 1580 capitulations negotiated by William Harbourne established that ‘if the English should have disputes one with another let their ambassador and consul decide according to their usage’. This privilege followed the principles of the charters granted by Elizabeth I and James I that allowed the Levant Company to exercise an extended legal authority to enact laws to govern English merchants across Ottoman lands. From an Ottoman perspective, this legal privilege was integrated into the millet system, the self-governance structures developed by the Ottoman polity to regulate and monitor the different religious and ethnic communities.¹⁶⁹ This request, according to Withington, caused a maelstrom within the English delegation, which culminated with Thomas Mitford stabbing Edwards ‘into the shoulder with a dagger’.¹⁷⁰

Aware of the implications of his erratic behaviour, Edwards apparently tried to undermine the image of Sir Thomas Roe, his successor and the first English royal ambassador at the Mughal court. According to Withington, when asked about the identity and background of the new English ambassador who landed in Surat, Edwards presented Roe as ‘was a man subdare [sic], which is a common souldier of fower horse paye, and of no reputation’. Withington’s accusation is somehow odd, since the mansabdar was one of the highest ranks in the Mughal hierarchy. It is probable that Withington was unaware of the ranking system of the Mughal elites and used terminology unfamiliar to him and many in England to validate his allegations against Edwards. Indeed, the latter’s presentation of Sir Thomas Roe as mansabdar was in line with the company’s intention to use Roe’s aristocratic pedigree to enhance English prestige at Jahangir’s court.

Nicholas Withington’s negative views on William Edwards should be read keeping the feud between the two men in mind. In July 1615, Edwards launched an inquiry into Withington’s alleged fraudulent activities in Agra and dispatched a group of English merchants to apprehend him. In his account, Withington denied all the accusations made against him and stated that he had demonstrated his ‘playne and open dealinge’.¹⁷¹ Kerridge , however, offers a different version. In one of his letters, he describes the turbulent arrest of a heavily drunk Withington, a ‘maddman’ who escaped from being arrested by terrifying those sent to detain him. He would only be arrested when Withington ‘fell out with Magolls on the waye, that unhorste, beat, and delivered him prisoner to the Cutwall, who this morninge (to ad to our nations disgrace) hath carried him to Sarder Chan’.¹⁷² Soon after this incident, Withington wrote a ‘strange complayning lettre’ to Kerridge pleading for his intervention with Jahangir to release him from the Mughal authorities.¹⁷³ Fears of Withington converting to Islam instigated Kerridge and the new EIC General in India, William Keeling, to seek his release. However, after almost two weeks of imprisonment, Withington managed to escape and in late 1616 he returned to England.

In spite of the strong suspicions that Withington was pursuing a vendetta against Edwards, his account of the behaviour and travails of the English messenger at Jahangir’s court expresses a somewhat critical reflection on the limitations of the diplomatic modus operandi adopted by the EIC until then. William Edwards’ faux pas provided a cautionary tale from which ‘the Companye will take warninge howe they imploy such mechannick fellowes about such businesse’.¹⁷⁴ Withington’s account exposes thus the difficulties for the company’s personnel in ensuring an adequate diplomatic representation in India. As in the case of Canning’s legation, the mission headed by William Edwards revealed similar problems of political inexperience and indiscipline. Withington attributed these complications to the fact that the EIC representatives at the Mughal court had a lower class mercantile background which made them unsuited to perform diplomatic tasks that required the political expertise and courtly savoir faire possessed by aristocrats and high-ranking bureaucrats.

Another issue raised by Withington is the company’s inability to monitor its employees in distant places. Edwards’ usurpation of the status of ambassador and the serious conflicts afflicting the EIC men stationed at the Mughal court suggested that, once outside the range of their superiors, the company’s men rapidly became involved in acts of insubordination or insolence. These cases of indiscipline often resulted from a clash between the company’s interests and the personal ambitions of its employees. Indeed, the distance separating the EIC superiors stationed in Surat from their emissaries at the Mughal court allowed the latter to enjoy a considerable autonomy in a courtly milieu where, as the case of William Hawkins suggested, foreign envoys could benefit from the symbolic and material advantages offered by the Mughal emperor. ‘Mechannick fellowes’ such as Edwards could thus easily explore the apparent unfamiliarity of the English state or European diplomatic procedures with the local authorities by revamping their original standing in an attempt to gain financial and symbolic rewards derived from their supposed ambassadorial status. In other words, for Withington, one of the perils of pursuing cross-cultural diplomatic exchanges without legitimate, well-trained, disciplined and socially suited diplomatic agents was the possibilities of social mobility that non-European courts offered to ‘mechannick fellowes’. Instead of being focused on the goals of their mission, these unsuited agents would be more inclined to explore all possible ways to gain material or symbolic benefits that could improve their social standing.