HULAGU DESTROYS THE ASSASSIN COMMONWEALTH
The valiant and powerful Prince of Mosul, Aksonkor Burshi, was one of
the first victims of the second Grand Prior. He was just and daring, a
man greatly feared not only by the Assassins but also by the Crusaders
with whom he had recently fought a battle. Shortly after his return
from this encounter he was attacked by eight Assassins who, disguised
as dervishes, fell upon him in the chief mosque of Mosul while he was
taking his place on the throne. Protected by armor he defended himself
with immense courage. Three of the Assassins he killed, but before his
assistants could come to his aid he received a wound which soon proved
fatal. All the other Assassins were slain save one who fled and escaped
from the wrath of the people. When the mother of this man learned of
Aksonkor’s death she adorned herself immediately through pride in the
success of the onset for which, as she supposed, her son had given his
life. But when he came home uninjured she cut off her hair and
blackened her face in deep sorrow, since he had not died with his
comrades in honor—such was her view of honor.
Busi the Prince of Damascus was marked for destruction. Tahir the
friend of the Assassins had been executed and six thousand of the Order
had been massacred in 1129 at that prince’s command; therefore there
was no escape for Busi. Within two years of that massacre he was
attacked by a band of Assassins and escaped with difficulty; the year
following, however, brought death to him from the effects of wounds
received in that encounter.
The vengeance of the Assassins continued for years; it waited for time,
opportunity, and place, nay more, it passed from one generation to
another. They never forgot and never forgave. Shems ul Muluk, son of
Busi, as well as many other people of renown fell under the daggers of
the Order. The mufti of Kasvin and the mayors of Ispahan and Tebriz
were among those who perished. Besides rulers and great men a multitude
of merchants and ordinary men were murdered by the tools of Hassan Ben
Sabah and his successors the so-called apostles of Islam.
But in spite of the bitter enmity between the Abbasids and the Fatimids
and the fact that the Assassins, an offshoot of the Fatimids, had
worked long and industriously to overthrow their opponents, the throne
of the Kalif of Bagdad had not been stained with the blood of its
occupants thus far. But the time had now come when the Order dared to
murder even the successor of the Prophet. Through a strange
retribution, however, Kalif Abu Ali Mansur the tenth of the Fatimid
dynasty was the first to die by the hand of an Assassin, but whether
this death was effected by the policy of the Order or by private
revenge is unknown. It was thought by many that the murderer was
employed by the family of Efdhal, the grand vizir.
Efdhal had been as dangerous for the Kalif at Cairo through the immense
power which he wielded in Egypt as for the Crusaders because of his
hatred for them and the great energy with which he warred against them.
He was cut down by two men who belonged to the Order. No one knew who
had employed those two persons, whether the murderers were the tools of
the Crusaders, or of the Kalif. At first suspicion fell on the Kalif.
The son of Efdhal, Abu Ali, who was imprisoned immediately upon the
death of his father, was set free after the assassination of the Kalif
and given the office and titles of the vizir. But Assassins soon
attacked and killed Abu Ali. It may be that all three murders were
caused by the machinations of unknown enemies.
Egypt from this time on presents scenes of turmoil and disorder
produced by great struggles between partisans of the Kalifs of Bagdad
and Cairo, or in other words between the Abbasids and the Fatimids.
Mostershed the twenty-ninth Abbasid Kalif held power from 1118 to 1135,
but his power was limited and his throne most insecure. When they made
themselves guardians of the Kalifs at Bagdad the Seljuk Sultans took
from them all marks of temporal power except the Friday prayers from
the pulpit, and the coinage of money. When Massud became Sultan he
immediately took this last evidence of authority from the Kalif and
appointed Friday prayers in his own name. This encroachment was
tolerated by Mostershed but he did not accept it. Some time later a
number of officers with the men under them left Massud and joined the
Kalif’s army. These officers assured the Kalif that it would not be
difficult to conquer Massud. Deceived by their statements Mostershed
marched against the Sultan, but, deserted by his warriors in the first
onset, he was captured by Massud and taken to Meragha. He was freed
however on his promise to remain thereafter in Bagdad and pay a yearly
tribute to the Sultan.
The Ismailians had hoped that this war would end the Abbasids; hence
they were bitterly disappointed, and determined to take the work into
their own hands at once and at all costs. When Massud left Mostershed
in his camp near Meragha, the Assassins cut down the Kalif and his
attendants. Then not satisfied with the murder, they mutilated the
corpses by cutting off their ears and noses.
People had scarcely recovered from the terror caused by this slaughter
of Mostershed when they learned that his successor Rashid had been
killed. The Assassins had thought that by the murder of Mostershed they
would bring about the ruin of the Kalifat. But hope deceived them.
Rashid on taking the throne planned his own policy and determined to
begin his rule by avenging the death of his father. He went first,
however, on a journey to Ispahan, intending when he returned to deal
with the Assassins. The Order ever alert and watchful discovered his
purpose. Four active adherents followed Rashid, and at last when the
chance came they stole into his tent and stabbed him. He was buried in
Ispahan, and the warriors whom he had assembled to march against the
Order scattered at once.
When news of the Kalif’s death came to the Grand Prior there was great
joy in Alamut. For seven days and nights kettledrums sounded to
announce the happy event to that whole mountain region. This murder
brought alarm and terror to the Abbasid world. It is said that after
the death of Rashid Abbasid Kalifs very rarely, if ever, showed
themselves in public. Agents of the Order now went in crowds through
Asia. Fortresses already held by them were strengthened while new ones
were built or else purchased. In Syria they obtained Kadmos in 1134,
Kahaf four years later, and Massiat in 1140. The first and the second
they bought, the third they took by the strong hand, with violence, and
made it the center of their activity in Syria.
Kei Busurgomid had ruled the Assassin kingdom for fourteen years when,
realizing that his last hour was near, he made his eldest son, Kia
Mohammed, Grand Prior. The ruler at Alamut while increasing the power
of the Order and extending its influence in every direction did not
call himself sovereign or claim sovereign power. He ruled in the name
of an invisible Imam of whom he called himself an apostle, an Imam who
was to appear in the future and establish his rule over mankind. The
real tenets of the Order were known only to the Grand Prior and to his
chosen and tested associates who were bound to secrecy by the most
dreadful oaths. The vast majority of people who were under the control
of the chief of Alamut thought themselves devout followers of Mohammed
the Prophet whose teachings they observed with the utmost fidelity.
They looked upon the Grand Prior as an apostle whose wisdom was beyond
question and obeyed his commands with willingness and the most implicit
confidence. Those of his his disciples whom he employed as tools to
carry out political schemes or private revenge requiring the removal of
men by the use of the dagger thought they were working for a holy cause
and removing enemies of their faith and their country. As the books and
manuscripts of Hassan Ben Sabah and of those Alamut chiefs who
succeeded him were destroyed at the coming of the Mongols it is
difficult to obtain at this time much information regarding the
internal government of the Assassin kingdom. Their real doctrine was
carefully concealed and its supporters appeared only as upholders of
Islam. This is shown by answers given the Sultan Sindjar who sent an
envoy to Alamut to gain information concerning the doctrine of the
Order.
“The Ismailian doctrine is as follows,” replied the Prior. “We believe
in one God and recognize that alone as true wisdom which accords with
His holy word and the commands of His Prophet, Mohammed. We obey these
as given in the sacred Koran; we believe in all that the Prophet taught
touching creation and the last day, rewards, punishments, the judgment
and the resurrection. To believe thus is needful for salvation, and no
man may give an opinion on God’s commands, or alter one letter in them.
These are the rules on which rests our religion, and if they please not
the Sultan let him send a theologian to talk with us.”
In 1138 began the rule of Kia Mohammed, a man not only lacking in wit
and ability but wholly untrained in the art of governing. The power of
the Order had now reached its height. Its authority and influence were
apparent in many countries of Asia. There was need of a strong man at
Alamut. Nearly fifty years had passed since Hassan Ben Sabah began his
career of murder; years during which all the teachings of Islam were
observed with the greatest strictness by the common people who believed
in their rulers and yielded ready obedience. But Kai Mohammed did not
win the confidence of his subjects; they greatly disliked him. Hassan,
his son, was a man of unlimited ambition, and early in life gained the
love of the people and the reputation of having keen insight and much
learning, a reputation which he used for the attainment of his own
objects and not for the advancement of the Order. He knew and did not
contradict the report which his partisans spread very carefully that he
was the Imam whom Hassan Ben Sabah had promised. But the Prior of
Alamut heard of his son’s action; of the opinions of the people and the
report that Hassan was the long looked for Imam, and he declared his
displeasure at once. “Hassan is my son,” said he. “I am not the Imam
but one of his precursors; whoever thinks differently is an infidel!”
and he ordered the immediate execution of two hundred and fifty of
Hassan’s associates and partisans; others were banished. Hassan through
fear for his own safety wrote against his adherents and supported his
father. He avoided punishment thus by removing suspicion. Since he
drank wine in secret, however, and practised many things which were
forbidden, his adherents thought him surely the promised Imam whose
coming was to end prohibition of all kinds.
But now appear the men destined to destroy the Fatimid dynasty of
Egypt,—Nur ed din Mahmud Ben Amed Es Zenky, son of Zenky, son of Ak
Sunkur, and Saladin, son of Eyub the friend of Zenky. Ak Sunkur, a
slave whom Melik Shah made his court chamberlain and later the governor
of the Province of Aleppo, died in 1094 leaving a son, Zenky, ten years
of age. Not long after his father’s death Zenky was summoned to the
court of Kur Buga then Prince of Mosul. He soon became a favorite and
companion of the prince and accompanied him on his campaigns. In 1122
the prince gave him Wasit and Basra in fief. When in March of the
following year the Arabs, led by Dubeg a renowned Emir of the Asad
tribe, marched against Bagdad, Mostershed the Kalif crossed the river
with his army and was received on the bank by his vassals the Prince of
Mosul, Zenky of Basra, and others. The combined armies then attacked
Hilla the enemy’s stronghold, and though Dubeg’s army was much larger
than that of the Kalif’s the Arabs were defeated owing chiefly to the
skilful movements of Zenky. Somewhat later Zenky went to Hamadan to the
court of the Seljuk Sultan, Mahmud, and soon married the widow of
Kundughly, the richest noble of the court. In 1124 he returned to Basra
and Wasit where he ruled with great severity. In a battle between the
Sultan and the Kalif, Zenky took the part of the Sultan and sent him
reinforcements, thus obliging the Kalif to make peace. When after this
victory the Sultan took up his abode in Bagdad Zenky received a high
office. In 1127 he was made governor of Mosul and Jezira and took upon
himself the task of defending the country against the Crusaders. Not
long after this he became master of Aleppo. In 1131 the Seljuk Sultan
died and there was a bitter conflict over the succession. Zenky now
determined to get possession of Damascus but his attempt, made four
years after the death of the Sultan, brought him no success. In 1144 he
besieged and captured Edessa held at that time by the Crusaders. Two
years after this great victory he died by the hand of one of his own
attendants, leaving a son, Nur ed din, to finish his work by becoming
master of Damascus.
In 1132 when fleeing from Karaja by whom he had been defeated in
battle, Zenky was saved by Eyub commandant of the castle of Tenkrit on
the bank of the Tigris. This service was never forgotten. In 1138 on a
night when Eyub, who had been driven from the castle of Tenkrit, was
seeking an asylum with Zenky at Mosul a son was born to him. This son
he named Yessuf Salal ed din (Saladin). A year later Zenky took
possession of Baalbek and Eyub was made governor there. Saladin was
nine years old when Zenky was murdered. Zenky’s possessions were shared
by his two sons, Seif ud din who received Mosul, and Nur ed din who
ruled the Syrian province.
Nur ed din was a wise and just ruler, as well as a brave and fearless
warrior, and a resolute defender of Islam. Being master of Mosul and
Aleppo he was also master of North Syria, but in the south he lacked
power through not having Damascus. Mejr ed din Abak the last of the
Seljuks of Damascus ruled there, or more correctly, his vizir ruled at
his commission. After Zenky’s death Damascus sent troops to retake
Baalbek. Eyub made terms and surrendered the city receiving in return
ten villages in that region. A few years later he became
commander-in-chief of the Damascus army, a position which he held when
Nur ed din marched against Damascus in 1154. Shirkuh, brother of Eyub,
had meanwhile taken service with Nur ed din. When the Syrian army
appeared before the city Shirkuh opened negotiations with his brother
and Eyub surrendered the place to the son of his old friend. Thus
Damascus abandoned its hereditary sovereign and Mejr ed din withdrew
from the city. He received in exchange Emesa, then Balis, and went
finally to Bagdad.
An earthquake had nearly ruined Damascus, but Nur ed din restored the
city and made it his capital. During his reign of twenty-eight years he
captured fifty castles or more and established mosques and schools in
every city of his dominion. Policy as well as religion caused Nur ed
din to favor the Abbasid line instead of the Fatimids of Cairo. The
time seemed to him ripe then to end Cairo helplessness, a genuine
helplessness since civil war raged there between Dargham a commander
and Shawer the vizir who under the Kalif were struggling for mastery.
Early in 1163, the year following that in which Nur ed din had
conquered Haram and taken possession of many Syrian fortresses, Shawer
who had been driven from Cairo came to Damascus and promised not only
to pay the cost of an invasion but afterward to yield up one third of
the income of Egypt if Nur ed din would give him certain aid against
Dargham. Nur ed din was not opposed to obtaining a foothold in the
country, still he withheld assistance till April of the following year,
when he sent his able and ambitious governor of Emesa, Essed ed din
Shirkuh, with an army into Egypt. Dargham was slain and Shawer was
restored to his former position. Freed from his enemy and safe, as he
thought, he refused to fulfil the conditions he had made. Shirkuh
enraged by his treachery seized the eastern province, Sherkiya, and the
chief town, Belbeis.
Shawer, who was an artful unprincipled man, false to his friends, to
his warriors and to his own interests, then called in Amalric, Count of
Askalon and king of Jerusalem, to act with the Crusaders against
Shirkuh. The friend of the Egyptian vizir was now his foe, and the
Crusaders had become the ally of their erstwhile enemy. Between Amalric
and Nur ed din there was keen rivalry, for neither man would permit the
other to become master in Egypt.
Shirkuh fortified Belbeis and for three months resisted all attacks
from his opponent. Nur ed din now made an expedition to Palestine and
Amalric had need to hasten home to protect his own kingdom. An
armistice was arranged and both armies left Egypt.
But in 1167 Amalric again advanced at the head of a large army. Rumors
of this advance having reached Nur ed din he at once sent Shirkuh to
Egypt with a force of two thousand horsemen. He had barely crossed the
Nile when Amalric appeared on the opposite bank. Shirkuh halted at
Giza, and Amalric took up his position at Fustat. Shawer allied himself
with Amalric, who dictated his own terms and insisted that the Kalif
should ratify the treaty.
Shirkuh, alarmed by the strength of the combined armies, retreated to
Upper Egypt. Pursued by his opponent, he turned and gave battle, April
18, 1167, at a place a few miles south of Minya. The Egyptians were
defeated, but Shirkuh, not having troops sufficient for a march on
Cairo, withdrew to Alexandria, where he left Saladin in command with
one-half of the army, and moved toward the South to collect
contributions. Alexandria was soon besieged and blockaded. Provisions
were lacking in the city and there was talk of surrender when news came
that Shirkuh was advancing rapidly to their relief. He halted before
Cairo and invested that city. Amalric then raised the siege of
Alexandria and a peace was made by which Shirkuh and the king promised
to withdraw their troops from Egypt. It is stated that Shirkuh received
fifty thousand ducats, and the king twice that amount from the revenues
of Egypt. There remained at Cairo, moreover, a general of Crusaders
with a large number of men as a guard against Nur ed din.
But peace was of short duration; the advantage which came to the King
of Jerusalem by the terms of the treaty induced him to violate his
promise in the hope of eventually getting control of the country.
Incited by the Hospitalers, whose chief wished to keep his Order in
Belbeis which he had charged with a debt of more than one hundred
thousand ducats, Amalric advanced early in the winter of 1168 but this
time he entered Egypt as an enemy.
He arrived at Belbeis in November, captured that city and slaughtered
its inhabitants. He then besieged Cairo. A wall at which women and
children were toiling both by day and by night had been raised around
the city. November 12th Fustat the most ancient part, called usually
Old Cairo, was by command of Shawer set on fire to hamper the enemy,
and it continued to burn for fifty-four days and nights. Adhad, the
Kalif, despatched courier after courier with letters to Syria imploring
Nur ed din to help him, and to picture the greatness of his need he
inclosed locks of hair from the heads of his wives, as if saying: “The
enemy are dragging our women by the hair. Come and rescue!”
Nur ed din was in Aleppo and Shirkuh at Emesa. Nur ed din, however, at
no time indifferent to the importance of gaining influence and power,
gave two hundred thousand gold ducats to Shirkuh and sent him to Egypt
immediately (December, 1168). Six thousand chosen Syrians marched with
him and two thousand picked Turkman warriors from Damascus. Saladin,
urged by his uncle, accompanied the expedition.
Meanwhile Shawer and Amalric were negotiating—the former to liberate,
the latter to win Cairo. Shawer promised a million of ducats in the
name of the Kalif, and the King of Jerusalem was glad to receive fifty
thousand in ready money. The Crusaders withdrew when the Syrians under
Shirkuh appeared before Cairo in January, 1169. The Kalif went to the
camp on a visit immediately, and complained very bitterly of Shawer who
had brought the Crusaders into Egypt, burned Fustat, and ruined the
country. He begged Shirkuh to obtain for him the head of the vizir, he
himself being unable to get it.
Shawer felt now his own danger, and, while feigning friendship for the
Syrians, resolved to destroy, under cover of a banquet, both Shirkuh,
and Saladin, his nephew, with the princes of their suite. The plot
became known in good season, however, and when Shawer was approaching
on a visit to Shirkuh, he was seized and killed, and his head was sent
to the Kalif.
Shirkuh took Shawer’s place as vizir and the Kalif gave him the title
of Al Melik Al Mansur (The Victorious King).
Shirkuh died two months later, March 26, and his nephew Yussuf Salah ed
din, now thirty-one years of age, was invested with the same dignities
of office and received the same title.
Saladin was now the vizir of the Kalif, and Nur ed din’s commander,
thus his position was peculiar; he was the vizir of a Shiite Kalif and
the commander of a Sunnite king. He therefore caused the name of Nur ed
din to be mentioned in public prayers every Friday after that of the
Kalif,
Nur ed din thought that the time had come to abolish the Fatimid Kalif
at, but Saladin delayed since the people clung to Adhad, the last
representative of the dynasty. Adhad fell ill, however, and died
opportunely. Saladin transferred the prerogative of prayer then from
the Fatimid line to that of the Abbasid September 10, 1171. In this way
Saladin delivered the blow which destroyed the main branch of the
Western Ismailites. The Abbasid Kalif at now prevailed over that of the
family of Ali for which the Ismailites had taught and conspired and in
whose name they had deceived the people for nearly three centuries.
This was an event of vast importance in the history of the East, as
well as in that of the Assassin Order before whom Saladin, now a famous
warrior and an ardent champion of the Abbasids, stood forth as a
powerful and dangerous enemy.
Eight years before the fall of the Fatimid dynasty Mohammed the Grand
Prior of the Assassins died, and Hassan II assumed power. As we have
seen, Hassan began his career during his father’s life, by winning
partisans and spreading the belief that he was the promised Imam. In
his youth he had spent many years in acquiring a thorough knowledge of
philosophy and history, and in receiving instruction regarding the
mysteries of the Order. Unprincipled and profligate he now determined
not only to indulge without limit in every vice but to favor a like
indulgence in others. To cast aside all concealment and give the
secrets of the Ismailians to the world. To announce the same license to
the leaders of the Order and favor impunity of vice not merely by
example but by preaching from the pulpit that crime is permissible and
innocent. In Ramadan of the 559th year of the Hegira—1163—the
inhabitants of Rudbar were assembled at Alamut by his command. A pulpit
was placed at the foot of the castle and looking toward Mecca to which
all professors of Islam turn when praying.
Hassan ascended the pulpit and made known to his hearers the maxims of
a renewed and strengthened religion. He announced to them that they
were freed from all obligations of the law, for they had come to an era
in which they were to know God by intuition; they were released from
the burden of every command and brought to the day of Resurrection,
that is to the manifestation of the Imam before whom they were now
standing. They were no longer to pray five times each day, or observe
other rites of religion. Then, after he had explained that an
allegorical sense should be given to the dogmas of Resurrection, Hell,
and Paradise, he descended from the pulpit and the people held a great
banquet, yielding themselves to pleasures of all kinds, to dancing, to
music, to wine and to sport in celebration of the day of Resurrection,
the day when the Imam was made manifest.
From that hour when all things were lawful according to Hassan the name
Molahids, or the Lost Ones, which previously had been given to the
Karmathites and other great criminal disturbers, was given not only to
the disciples of Hassan but to all the Ismailians. Through their Grand
Prior the Order after concealing its true doctrine from mankind for
years had revealed it on a sudden and exposed to the world a society
founded on atheism, assassination and immorality. Thenceforth the Order
was doomed to rapid internal destruction.
The Ismailians had adopted the view that the universe had never begun
and would never end. The end in their eyes meant merely a phase, the
close of an epoch in existence which would be followed by another whose
length would depend upon the movements and position of the heavenly
bodies. By Resurrection was meant the presence of men before God at the
close of an epoch, and when that term came every practice of religion
was included, since man’s one concern is the estimate of his actions.
The 17th Ramadan was celebrated with banquets and games, not only as
the feast of the manifestation, but as the true date of publishing
their doctrine. As the followers of Islam reckon their time from the
flight of the Prophet, so did the Molahids from the manifestation of
the Imam, the 17th of Ramadan in the 559th year of Hegira. As
Mohammed’s name was never mentioned without adding “The Blessed,” so
after that day the words “Blessed be his memory” were added to Hassan’s
name. The Grand Priors had called themselves simply missionaries or
precursors of the Imam, but Hassan insisted that he was the Imam; in
him lay all power to remove the restrictions of the law. By this claim
he appeared before the people as a lawgiver. In this spirit he wrote to
the different princes. His letter concerning Reis Mossafer, the Grand
Prior of Kuhistan, a namesake of whom had been Grand Prior in Irak
under Hassan Ben Sabah, was as follows:
“I, Hassan, declare to you that on earth I am God’s vice-gerent. Reis
Mossafer is my vice-gerent in Kuhistan. The men of that province will
obey him; they must listen to his words as to mine.”
Reis had a pulpit erected in the Mumin Abad castle, his residence. From
the pulpit he read this epistle to the people, most of whom listened to
it with pleasure. There was a great festival with music and sports;
they fell to dancing, they drank wine at the foot of the pulpit, and in
every way possible made known their joy at liberation from the bonds of
the law. A few who remained faithful to Islam withdrew from the Order;
others who did not believe but could not decide to take this step
remained and shared the reputation of the “Lost Ones.”
Profligacy, atheism, infidelity and freedom from all restraint now
ruled supreme, and Hassan’s name was heard from every pulpit of the
Order as that of the real successor of the Prophet, the long waited for
Imam.
But it was much easier for Hassan to make himself a teacher of atheism
and immorality than to assume the character of Imam.
To convince the people that he was the Imam Hassan was driven to prove
himself descended from the Fatimid Kalifs. He was declared to be a son
of Nesar and a grandson of the Kalif Mostansir during whose reign
Hassan Ben Sabah had been in Cairo, and in the political disputes of
the day had taken the side of Mostansir’s elder son Nesar. For this he
had been ordered by Bedr Jimali, the commander-in-chief, to leave
Egypt. A certain Abul Hassan Seid, a favorite of the Kalif, had come to
Alamut a year after the death of Mostansir, and had brought with him a
son of Nesar whom he confided to Hassan Ben Sabah. Hassan treated the
envoy with great respect and gave the young man, also called Nesar, a
village near the castle as a residence. Nesar married and had a son to
whom the name “Blessed be his Memory” was given. When Nesar’s wife was
delivered of her child the wife of Mohammed, the Grand Prior of Alamut,
also had a child. A nurse carried “Blessed be his Memory” into the
castle and substituted him for the son of Mohammed.
This tale instead of satisfying the people was received with ridicule
and declared to be untrue. Then as, according to new Ismailite
teaching, all was indifferent and nothing forbidden, the builders of
Hassan’s genealogy found it best to maintain that Nesar had met
Mohammed’s wife in secret, the result being Hassan, the Grand Prior,
Imam, and Kalif, “Blessed be his Memory.”
Ismailites who in this way tried to prove that Hassan was a descendant
of Nesar were called by their opponents “the Nesari,” a title which
involved extreme obloquy.
Crime and immorality now reigned wherever the Order had power or
influence. Men who had hitherto been Assassins through obedience to
those in power and in the belief that they were fulfilling a religious
duty by removing persons who were harmful to Islam, now murdered people
wantonly.
Hassan II died in the fourth year of his reign by the dagger of his
brother-in-law at the castle of Lamsir.
Disorders caused through the revelation by Hassan were not stopped by
his murder. Crimes of every kind increased greatly during the reign of
his son and successor, Mohammed II, whose first act was to avenge the
murder of his father. Nanver, the late Prior’s brother-in-law and
assassin, died by the axe of the executioner, and with him died all his
kindred, male and female.
Mohammed II preached and taught with even more insistence than had
Hassan, his father, the doctrine of license, crime, and vice, and like
him claimed to be the Imam. Deeply read in philosophy he thought
himself unequalled in this and other forms of knowledge. He was a man
devoted to evil, and though he reigned for forty-six years there is but
little information to be obtained regarding the Order during that
period.
In the eyes of the Orthodox the Assassins were a band of vile heretics,
an assemblage of outcasts; but that Order was still defiant and mighty.
Fakhr ul Islam of Ruyan was the first doctor of the law to pronounce it
impious. This he did in Kazvin by a fetva. On his return from Kazvin to
Ruyan he fell by an Assassin. A doctor of greater reputation was
treated more tenderly: Fakhr ud din Rasi, a professor of theology at
Rayi, never failed in his lectures to refute all their doctrines,
adding as he did so: “May God curse and destroy them.” The Ismailian
Prior sent an agent to Rayi. This man appeared as a student, heard
lectures and bided his time. At last, finding that Fakhr ud din was
alone in his cabinet, he walked in, shut the door, placed the point of
a dagger at the breast of his master and waited. “What is this?” cried
the latter in terror. “Why do you curse the Ismailians and their
doctrines unceasingly?” asked the Assassin. “I will speak of them no
more,” said the teacher, “I swear this to you most solemnly.” “Will you
keep this oath?” After strong assurance the agent was satisfied, drew
back his dagger, and continued: “I had no command to kill you; if I had
nothing could have turned me from duty. My master salutes you and says
that he cares not for common men’s words, but he regards your
discourses, since they will live in the memory of people. He invites
you to visit him at Alamut, for he wishes to prove his high esteem to
you in person.”
Fakhr ud din would not go, but promised silence. The agent then put
down a purse of three hundred miskals, and said: “You will receive
every year a purse such as this. I have brought you two tunics of Yeman
besides; they are now in my lodgings.” That said the man disappeared.
Some time after this a disciple of the teacher asked why he did not
curse the Ismailians. “How can I curse them?” replied Fakhr ud din,
“their arguments are so trenchant.”
In Arslan Kushad, the Ismailians surprised in the night a castle two
leagues from Kazvin on the top of a high mountain. The people of that
place were in despair at having such neighbors, and implored various
princes to free them but in vain, till a certain Sheikh, Ali, persuaded
the Kwaresmian Sultan, Tagash, to assist him. The Sultan laid siege to
the castle, took it, allowed the Ismailians to withdraw, and placed a
small garrison on the mountain. Barely had the investing troops gone
when the Ismailians reëntered the stronghold at night through an
underground passage known to them only and slew the whole garrison. The
Sheikh Ali implored Tagash again and he came now in person. The people
of Kazvin joined his forces and after a siege of two months the
Ismailians yielded the castle on condition that they should be allowed
to retire unmolested. They promised to leave in two divisions. If the
first passed in safety the second would follow, if not it would keep up
the struggle. The first party descended, rendered homage to the Sultan
and vanished. The besiegers waited for the second division, waited long
and discovered at last that the garrison had gone in one party. The
castle was then razed at command of the Sultan. But the Ismailians took
vengeance on Sheikh Ali. While returning from a pilgrimage to Mecca he
was slain by one of their Assassins in a mosque at Damascus.
Syria and Egypt at this time demand attention since it was there that
the enemies of Saladin were acting.
In Cairo was the Sultan’s great palace where for two hundred years the
Fatimids had been collecting the wealth not only of Egypt, but of Syria
and Arabia. When after the death of the Sultan, Saladin took possession
of this palace, he found there jewels of a value beyond estimate. There
were magnificent pearls; an emerald “a span long and as thick as a
finger,” there was furniture of ebony and ivory, there were coffers
inlaid with gold and ornamented with precious stones. There was wealth
of every kind. There was also a splendid library containing, as some
historians state, 2,600,000 volumes, others mention a much smaller
number but it was, in any case, at that time the largest library in
Europe.
Some of those treasures Saladin gave to the officers of his army, some
he sent to Nur ed din and others were disposed of to obtain sums needed
for campaigns against the Crusaders and for erecting fortifications,
mosques and schools.
Though there was a strong party in Cairo hostile to Saladin, a party
composed of officers in the Egyptian army, palace dependents and even
some of the Syrian officers who were embittered by the rapid advance of
so young a man, still his adherents were increasing. Nur ed din saw
with alarm the influence and power of his lieutenant but he knew well
that embroiled with the Crusaders and the Sultan of Rūm he could not
recall the master of Cairo. Hence though alert and watchful he remained
in apparent friendship, and Saladin was prudent enough to render him
homage as ruler of Syria and Egypt. Meanwhile to secure his own
position he gathered his family around him, made his brothers, his
nephews, and his relatives commanders in the army; and strengthened the
fortifications of Cairo.
In June, 1173, by the Atabeg’s command he laid siege to Karak, but
scarcely were his troops in position when news came that Nur ed din was
approaching with his Syrian army. Saladin withdrew hastily and returned
to Cairo, giving his father’s illness as a reason for the withdrawal.
In 1174 he sent his elder brother, Turan Shah, with an army against
Yemen, a place which he thought would be convenient for defence in case
he were attacked by the Atabeg of Syria.
Abdennebi, a follower of the impious Karmath, was master of that region
and had done much to oppress and demoralize his people. Turan Shah soon
conquered the Yemens and for more than fifty years the province
remained in the possession of the Abbasids.
Nur ed din died May 6, 1174, and was succeeded by his son Salih, a boy
eleven years of age. The young prince, incapable of governing, was
under control of guardians among whom was the eunuch Gumushtegin, a man
greatly disliked by the Syrians of Aleppo. Master of Egypt and with a
large army at his command Saladin could have seized power had he so
wished, but he remained true to the interests of Salih and at once
ordered that the name “es Salih, son of Nur ed din” should be mentioned
in the Friday prayers and engraved on the money.
But trouble began immediately. The Prince of Mosul seizing the
opportunity threw off allegiance, and annexed Edessa. The Crusaders
ever anxious to get possession of Damascus threatened the city and
withdrew only when the governor, Ibn al Mokadden, gave them a large sum
of money. In August Gumushtegin took Salih to Aleppo where the
commander of the army assumed the guardianship of the young prince. The
people of Damascus alarmed by the proximity of the Crusaders, and in
dread of an attack from Aleppo, now begged aid of the Prince of Mosul.
When he refused they turned to Saladin, who moved by quick marches
across the desert and entered the city on the 27th of November. Making
his brother Governor of Damascus he set out for Aleppo.
Upon his arrival at that place he sent to assure the prince that he was
in Syria to defend cities threatened by Crusaders and by Seif ed din of
Mosul. When the governor and Gumushtegin closed the gates and refused
him entrance Saladin laid siege to the city, declaring that he did so
to rescue his sovereign.
The eunuch now had recourse to the Assassins. Rashid ed din Sinan, the
Grand Prior in Syria lived in those days at Massiat, the strongest of
the fortresses belonging to the Ismailians of that country.
He was the most politic and learned as well as one of the worst of the
rulers of the Assassin Kingdom and was at this moment all-powerful in
the mountains of North Syria. Saladin as a strong champion of the
Abbasid Kalifs and a man who seemed likely to become sovereign was the
natural enemy of the Order, hence Sinan was willing to assist
Gumushtegin especially as his request that Saladin should die at the
earliest was accompanied by a large sum of money. Three Assassins were
sent at once who although they reached Saladin’s tent and even his
presence failed of their purpose and were cut down by his attendants.
At this critical moment the Christians made an attack upon Emesa where
a part of the Egyptian troops were stationed. Saladin was obliged to
raise the siege of Aleppo and march to Emesa where he soon had
possession both of the town and the citadel. A few days later he
occupied Baalbek.
The Prince of Mosul and his brother alarmed by the success of Saladin
now joined their forces to those of Aleppo and advanced against him.
The armies met April 13, 1175, near Hamath. The troops of Aleppo and
Monsul were routed most thoroughly and pursued even to the gates of
Aleppo.
Saladin, now the greatest power in Egypt and Syria, waited no longer;
he at once proclaimed himself King and named the dynasty which he
founded “The Eyubite dynasty” in honor of his father. Twelve months
later the Prince of Mosul, who had brought together a numerous army,
met Saladin near Aleppo where a fierce battle was fought April 22,
1176. Seif ed din was defeated and lost his camp and his army.
Very soon after this victory Saladin took three important fortresses:
Bosaa, Manbidj, and Azaz, the latter only after a siege lasting nearly
a month. During this siege the king was again attacked by Assassins;
the first struck at his head with a knife but Saladin seized the man’s
hand and an attendant rushed forward and killed him. A second and even
a third murderer sprang forth but met with no better success.
Saladin, greatly alarmed by these repeated attacks, determined to
destroy the Assassins, or at least drive them out of Syria. In 1177,
after peace was established with Mosul and Aleppo, he advanced with a
large force and blockaded Massiat which was built on an almost
inaccessible peak commanding a deep ravine. Moslem historians assure us
that he would have captured this all-important fortress and thus ended
the Order in Syria had not his uncle, Shihab ed din, Lord of Hamath,
begged him to make peace on the assurance of Sinan that the king would
thereafter be protected from Assassins. Other historians assert that he
was terrified by the threats of Sinan and relate how on a night Saladin
awoke and found by his bed some hot scones of a size and shape peculiar
to the Assassins. Near them, pinned down by a dagger, was a paper
containing a threat and a warning. Whatever the cause may have been
Saladin withdrew to Damascus without capturing the Assassin stronghold.
Then leaving Turan Shah in command of Syria he returned to Cairo after
an absence of two years.
Thereafter Saladin campaigned both in Egypt and Syria, took possession
of the principal cities held by the Crusaders, and won the Holy Land
for Mohammedans, but was never again attacked by Assassins.
Mohammed II died at Alamut in 1213 from poison, as is stated, leaving a
son, Jelal ud din Hassan, who was twenty-five years of age at that
time. From boyhood he had been opposed to the practices of the
Assassins. As years passed this opposition became so intense that
father and son feared each other and when Mohammed died suddenly
suspicion rested on Jelal. As soon as the new Grand Prior assumed
command he announced his return to the true tenets of Islam, and gave
notice to the Kalif at Bagdad, the Kwaresmian Shah and the Governor of
Irak of this change in the teachings at Alamut, undertaking at the same
time to bring all Ismailians to follow his example. Belief seems to
have been given to these assurances, for when his wife and mother went
on a pilgrimage to Mecca they were received with distinction at Bagdad
and the party of pilgrims who marched under the banner of the Alamut
ruler preceded all others. He lived only twelve years after coming to
the throne but during those years he built mosques, established schools
and called in learned men to teach his people the true faith. Some
historians consider Jelal ud din a shrewd politician rather than a
reformer and assert that he remained an apostle of atheism. Be this as
it may he did for a short time suppress assassination but it reinstated
itself quickly when poison removed him and his son, Alai ed din
Mohammed, a boy nine years of age, reached the throne. During Alai ed
din’s reign women of the harem ruled at Alamut. Every law established
by Jelal ud din, his father, was abolished and atheism and the dagger
held sway as in the days of Hassan Ben Sabah. When nearing manhood Alai
ed din showed symptoms of mental disorder but no man had the courage to
say that the chief was in need of assistance. Had a physician dared to
tell the truth on that subject he would have been torn limb from limb
by the rabble at Alamut. As his illness increased his conduct became
almost beyond sufferance, though his associates declared that what he
said and did was divine in its origin. When Alai ed din was eighteen
years of age a son was born to him. This son he named Rokn ud din
Kurshah and made him his successor.
From childhood the Ismailians looked upon Rokn ud din as their future
Grand Prior and showed him honor equal to that given his father. This
roused anger in Alai ed din and he resolved to depose his son and
appoint another successor. When his advisors declared that the
nomination was final he was enraged and from that time on annoyed and
tormented his son, till at last Rokn ud din disclosed his whole mind to
those courtiers who were as much dissatisfied with his father as he
was. He declared that Alai ed din was ruining the Commonwealth, and
that Mongol arms would destroy it because of his conduct. “I will
withdraw from my father,” said he, “send envoys to the Grand Khan and
make terms with him.”
The greater number of the chief men agreed with Rokn ud din and
promised to defend him to the utmost, but in case of attack by his
father the person of the chief, as they said, must be sacred. A short
time after this pact and agreement, Alai ed din when drunk fell asleep
in a thatched wooden building near one of his sheep pens, a place which
he visited whenever he indulged in his favorite amusement of acting as
shepherd. He was found dead in that house about midnight, his head cut
from the body. A Turkman and a native of India were found wounded near
him.
At the end of eight days, after many had been tortured on suspicion,
they discovered the murderer. He was a certain Hassan of Masanderan,
the late chief’s nearest intimate, his inseparable companion, a man
whom he loved till his death though tormenting him in every way
possible.
Rokn ud din instead of bringing this Hassan to trial had him slain
quickly, an act which confirmed the suspicions which rested on the
youthful chief, who gave an additional example of savagery by burning
with the body of Hassan two sons and one daughter of the Assassin. Of
course they were innocent, though not only is it possible but probable,
that they possessed knowledge which Rokn ud din would suppress at all
hazards. Thus Alai ed din was murdered by an Assassin hired by his own
son.
The first act of this new ruler was to order his subjects to observe
every practice of Islam, and next he took measures to suppress robbery
and murder. But only one year had passed when the Mongol tempest came.
Though Rokn ud din and the Ismailians could not foresee it the doom of
Alamut and all who belonged to it had been settled. The Grand Khan had
instructed Hulagu to destroy them, and the master of Persia was
advancing to the execution.
Rokn ud din sent an officer to Yassaur, at Hamadan to assure him of his
submission to the Mongol Empire. This general advised him to visit
Prince Hulagu, who had just come to Persia. Rokn ud din, alarmed for
his own safety, answered that he would send his brother, Shahinshah, in
advance. Yassaur consented to this and charged his own son to go with
Shahinshah. But meanwhile he entered the Alamut region with an army
corps of Persians and Turks, and attacked that great fortress June,
1256. After a sharp struggle his men were forced back, and out of
revenge he destroyed all the harvest, and ravaged the country.
Hulagu had commissioned Guga Ilga and Kita Buga to finish the conquest
of Kuhistan which the latter had begun two years earlier. He had made
rather slow progress alone, but aided by Guga Ilga he captured Tun and
slew all the people, excepting young women and children. This done both
commanders joined Hulagu.
After Hulagu had received Shahinshah at headquarters he sent Rokn ud
din this message: “Since thou hast sent thy brother with expressions of
submission we will forgive the crimes committed by thy father. Raze thy
castles and come to our camp. No harm will be done to the country.”
When Rokn ud din had demolished several castles and dismounted the
Alamut gates with those of Meimundiz and Lemsher, Yassaur left
Ismailian territory. But Rokn ud din, while giving assurances of
obedience, and receiving a Mongol governor, asked the term of one year
in which to do homage to Hulagu.
Hulagu sent envoys a second time to induce the Alamut ruler, through
promises and threats, to visit him. When these envoys were returning
Rokn ud din sent with them a cousin of his father, and his own vizir
Shems ud din Kileki, who were to present his excuses and obtain the
delay which he asked for. He begged also to retain the three castles,
Alamut, Lemsher and Lal, engaging in this case to surrender all others.
He hoped by this yielding to win the delay which he needed. He was
merely waiting for winter, which would stop every action in that entire
mountain region.
The only answer given by Hulagu, who had just captured the castle of
Shahdiz, was a summons to his camp pitched at that time near Demavend.
He added that if Rokn ud din needed a few days to bring his affairs
into order he might have them, but he must send his son straightway.
Rokn ud din, in great dread on receiving this message, replied that he
was sending his son, and also a contingent of three hundred warriors.
He declared that he would demolish castles if the land were not
invaded. But instead of his son he sent his half brother, a boy of
seven years, the son of his father and a Kurdistan woman. Hulagu saw
the trick, but dissembled, was kind to the boy and sent him back saying
that the child was too young. He required of Rokn ud din now his second
brother, Shahinshah. The Alamut chief sent this brother, hoping that
his own presence would not be demanded. Later on winter would come, as
he thought, and confine him to his castle; it would also ward off every
enemy.
At this juncture Hulagu sent Shaninshah to Rokn ud din with the
following message: “Thou must destroy Meimundiz, and come quickly. If
thou come thou wilt find here good treatment, if not God knows and He
alone what will happen.”
Rokn ud din repeated his worn out excuses. Hulagu would not receive
them, and commanded his troops to march into Rudbar from various points
simultaneously. The right wing moved from Mazanderan, the left by the
Khar route and over Lemnan, while the center went by the Talekan
highway. By order of Hulagu, who advanced with the center, the three
hundred men sent by Rokn ud din were cut down near Kazvin, slain in
secret. Reaching Meimundiz he made a tour of the fortress and summoned
a council. Five days were given Rokn ud din for surrender. If he
yielded in that time no harm would be done him or his subjects, but
after that term an assault would be ordered.
It was answered that Rokn ud din was then absent, that without his
command no man could surrender. The Mongols prepared for immediate
action. Trees were cut down and shaped into beams of right size, borne
by men to the neighboring summits and made into catapults. Hulagu fixed
his tent on the highest position. On the morrow the conflict had
already begun when Rokn ud din sent a message declaring that since he
knew now where the prince was he asked that all action be suspended,
and on that day, or the morrow, he would visit headquarters. Next day
he desired to surrender in writing. The vizir Ata ul Mulk Juveini was
deputed to frame the surrender. The paper was sent to Rokn ud din and
he promised to yield up the stronghold, but when his brother was
leaving the fortress such a tumult arose that he was stopped, and every
man threatened with death who declared for surrender.
Rokn ud din informed Hulagu of this trouble, and the peril in which he
then found himself. In answer Hulagu begged him not to expose his life
needlessly. Meanwhile the catapults were mounted and the following
morning an attack was begun from all points. The combat lasted till
evening and was strenuous on both sides. At a season when tempests and
snow had till that year made all mountain places impassable the weather
was favorable for siege work and a new attack. The fourth day was
opening when Rokn ud din thought it best to abandon the fortress. He
sent his chief men with his son to the camp of the Mongols, and went
himself the next morning to fall prostrate in presence of Hulagu. With
him went his minister, the famous astronomer, Nassir ud din, and two
great physicians, who had always advised a surrender.
Next day the Mongols marched into Meimundiz. Hulagu treated Rokn ud din
kindly, but Mongol officers watched him and he was forced to direct
Ismailian commandants to surrender their fortresses. He himself had to
go with Hulagu’s agents to effect every transfer. More than forty
strong castles surrendered; all were destroyed when their garrisons had
withdrawn. Alamut and Lemsher were the last strongholds left standing
and their commandants declared that they would yield only when Hulagu
came in person, and Rokn ud din ordered the transfer.
Hulagu set out for Alamut and halted nine days at Sheherek, the ancient
residence of the Dilem rulers, where he celebrated the happy end of his
enterprise. After that he appeared before Alamut and sent Rokn ud din
to summon his people to surrender. The commandant refused. Hulagu sent
now a large corps of men to lay siege to the fortress. At this the
garrison offered to yield, and sent deputations repeatedly to Rokn ud
din to intercede in their favor, and save them.
Three days were given to remove what belonged to the garrison
personally. On the fourth day the Mongols and Persians marched in,
seized what was left and set fire to the buildings. Hulagu, it is said,
himself visited the fortress and was amazed at the height of the
mountains around it.
The library of Alamut was renowned in those regions, but the vizir and
historian, Ata ul Melik Juveini, who asked and obtained Hulagu’s
permission destroyed every manuscript which related to Ismailian
opinions and teaching.
The foundations of this famed fortress were laid in 860, and the
castle, enormously strong through its works and position, was richly
provisioned. This was the true head and capital of that kingdom of
murder. Connected with the castle were great apartments cut into the
rock, for storage of provisions both solid and liquid; of the latter
there was wine, honey and vinegar. It was said that those stores had
been put there one hundred and seventy years earlier, in the days of
Hassan Ben Sabah, and were preserved perfectly owing to the cleanliness
of the place, and the pure mountain air of that region. The waters of
the river Bahir, conducted to the foot of the fortress, filled a moat
which inclosed half the stronghold.
A Mongol officer of Persian and Mongol militia now received the command
to raze Alamut. Much time and great labor were needed to do this.
Hulagu then went to Lemsher, but as that fortress would not yield he
left Tair Buga with a strong corps to take it, and returned to
headquarters where he gave a great feast, eight days in duration.
Rokn ud din followed Hulagu to Hamadan whence he sent officers with
those of Hulagu to Syria to order the commandants of Ismailian castles
in that country to surrender to the Mongols. While in Hamadan the late
master of Alamut became enamored of a Mongol maiden of low origin.
Hulagu gave the girl to him and he married her. Thus far the fallen
chief had been useful to the Mongol who had treated him with kindness
while commanding him to deliver up strongholds which might have stood
the siege for years had the Ismailians resisted. When he had no further
use for the man he wished to be rid of him, but he had given such a
promise of safety that he did not like to break his word openly. Rokn
ud din saved him from embarrassment by expressing a wish to visit the
court of Mangu, the Grand Khan. Hulagu beyond doubt suggested this idea
very deftly through others. He sent the fallen chief with nine
attendants of his own people under an escort of Mongols (1257).
When Rokn ud din reached the Mongol court Mangu would not see him, and
said that the authorities in Persia should not have permitted the
journey, which wearied post horses for nothing. Rokn ud din turned
homeward, but when near the mountain Tungat, the escort cut him down
with his attendants. According to Rashid, Mangu had him killed on the
way to Mongolia, not while returning.
Since the Grand Khan had given orders to exterminate the Ismailians,
Rokn ud din’s subjects had been distributed among Mongol legions. When
the Assassin chief had set out on this journey, which was ignominious
and doleful, command was given Mongol officers to slay the Assassins,
and spare no man, woman or child; hence all were massacred. Infants at
the breast were not spared any more than their mothers. Not a child or
a relative of Rokn ud din was left living.
This last ruler of the Assassins was among the most loathsome of
characters in history—a pitiless coward who had caused the death of his
own father, killed the murderer of that father without trial lest he
tell what he knew of his master’s evil doing, and burned the children
of the murderer with the corpse of their father lest they too might
expose him. He gave away power without an effort to save it, and lost
his own life with indignity.