The Humayun Nama stands apart in the annals of the Mughal Empire. Written in the late-sixteenth century by Princess Gulbadan Begum – daughter of Babur, sister of Humayun and aunt of Akbar – it is the only surviving history of the Mughal world authored by a royal woman. Gulbadan writes as an intimate eyewitness, candid, unscripted and unexpectedly playful, opening a rare window into affections, rivalries and politics at the heart of the early Mughal court. A rare document, it reshapes our view of the magnificent Mughals, allowing us to experience Gulbadan’s life in motion – marked by travel and migration, encounters with new cultures, the extraordinary influence wielded with aplomb by women of the imperial family, and the surprising autonomies enjoyed by both royal and non-royal people.
Three centuries later, her manuscript was discovered in the British Museum. In 1902, Annette Susannah Beveridge, a remarkable Victorian scholar, published its first complete English translation, preserving Gulbadan’s freshness and rescuing a text long hidden as a ‘literary pardanashin’ – veiled in the archives. This new edition brings together Gulbadan’s vivid narrative and Beveridge’s pioneering work, introduced by Ruby Lal, one of the foremost historians of the Mughal Empire. Lal traces the intertwined journeys of two extraordinary the princess who wrote the first female-authored Mughal history, and the translator who revived it. A landmark work, The Humayun Nama remains a pivotal account of the Mughal Empire.
Ruby Lal is professor of South Asian history at Emory University. She is the author of Empress: The Astonishing Reign of Nur Jahan, Domesticity and Power in the Early Mughal World, and Coming of Age in Nineteenth Century India: The Girl-Child and the Art of Playfulness.
In 1526, Babar defeated Ibrahim Lodi and established the Mughal dynasty. A few years later, having settled into India, he summoned his womenfolk—wives, daughters, aunts, etc—from Kabul. In response to the imperial summons, there came not just the grand ladies, the khanams (noblewomen) and aghachas (junior wives), but also a little girl: six-year-old Gulbadan Begum, Babar’s favourite daughter. Popular history has overlooked Gulbadan, but she was to grow up and become a vital member of Akbar’s zenana, a matriarch who led a group of royal women on haj—and who wrote a fascinating memoir of life as a Mughal princess.
In the late 1500s, Akbar requested Gulbadan, his aunt, to write down her memories of the early years of the dynasty. Gulbadan’s Ahval-e-Humayun Badshah (‘The Life Conditions of Emperor Humayun’), popularly known as the Humayun Nama, was written primarily in Persian. It remained unknown for several centuries, until a copy of it surfaced in 1868 in London, when the British Museum purchased a copy from the widow of a Colonel Hamilton, who had brought back a vast collection of documents from Delhi and Lucknow. It was subsequently translated into English—between about 1898 and 1901—by the Englishwoman Annette Susannah Beveridge.
Juggernaut Books’ edition of The Humayun Nama is somewhat like a set of matryoshkas, Russian stacking dolls. At its heart are the memories and emotions of its author, Gulbadan Begum. That memoir is brought to an English-speaking readership through Annette Beveridge, and the introduction to it all is by yet another woman, historian Ruby Lal, whose biography of Gulbadan (Vagabond Princess: The Great Adventures of Gulbadan; Juggernaut, 2024) makes her the perfect conduit for this landmark work.
Lal’s introduction to Beveridge’s translation of Gulbadan’s Humayun Nama is a fascinating look into the lives of both Gulbadan as well as her translator. Lal traces the life of Beveridge, her discovery of the Humayun Nama, and the rigorous effort that went into translating it. Beveridge’s futile attempts to find another copy of the manuscript, and the struggles in her life (two of her children died, and she lost her hearing) notwithstanding, this strong-willed, scholarly woman succeeded in the task she set herself. Lal’s introduction acts as a preface, laying the ground for both the Humayun Nama as well as Beveridge’s introduction to it.
Along with the introduction, Part 1 of the book includes a dramatis personae. Part 2, all of it in Beveridge’s words, includes a highly detailed Biographical Account of the Princess and Her Family; the Humayun Nama; and a directory with biographical notes on 200 women mentioned in the Humayun Nama, the Babarnama, etc.
It is Gulbadan’s work which is at the heart of this book, and it is a pleasure to read her unaffected, candid style. This was not a sycophantic chronicler who felt duty-bound to fill her manuscript with flowery prose and profuse praise. This is a family member: privileged, strong-willed, and with considerable experience of life. Gulbadan was in her mid-sixties when she wrote the Humayun Nama, and the wisdom, warmth, and even humour she brings to it is entrancing.
There are descriptions here of parties and picnics; of feisty matriarchs and the often-mercurial men of Babar’s clan. There are anecdotes—about relatives; about little Akbar and his mother; about expeditions to admire the blooming of wild rhubarb in the hills around Kabul. There is even a wryly witty comment on the ways of camels, and why they make poor mounts: ‘Every camel which was mounted, at once flung its rider to the ground, and took its way to the jungle…’
There is Babar, brought vividly to life:
[when one of his wives tried to dissuade him from visiting some aunts): His Majesty said, ‘Māham! It is astonishing that you should say such things! The daughters of Abū-sa’īd Sult̤ān Mīrzā, who have been deprived of father and brothers! If I do not cheer them, how will it be done?’
The book is heavily annotated, with Beveridge’s explanations, insights, and even comparisons with other texts, both of Gulbadan’s period and later. Beveridge comments on what may be oversight (or poor memory?) on the part of Gulbadan; she explains terms—thumb rings, for instance—that might be unfamiliar to readers. Through her extremely detailed notes we see not just a very conscientious translator, but a scholar who has made it a point to study her subject very deeply. In the directory of female personalities, for example, Beveridge goes deep into the relationships and identities of the 200 women she has listed, at times diving so deep that it can become confusing for a lay reader. For a researcher, though, her notes and observations can be invaluable.
Ultimately, this is a book for both the lay reader and the scholar. Gulbadan’s writing is approachable and refreshing; Beveridge’s annotations are scholarly and intense. Together, they bring to life a closeted world rarely mentioned in other chronicles.