His advent, we are told, was decorously surrounded by all manner
of signs and omens. The travail of Amina was entirely painless;
earthquakes loosed the bowels of mountains and caused great bodies
of water, whose names were unfortunately not specified, to wither
away or overflow; the sacred fire of Zoroaster which, under the
jealous care of the Magi, had spouted ceaseless flames for nearly a
thousand years, was summarily extinguished; indeed, all the idols in
the world--except, presumably, the Kaba,--unceremoniously tumbled
from their exalted places. Immediately after the babe was born an
ethereal light dazzled the surrounding territory, and, on the very
moment when his eyes were first opened, he lifted them to Heaven and
exclaimed: “God is great! There is no God but Allah and I am His
Prophet!” All these poetic fancies have been appropriately denounced
by Christian scribes, who have claimed that nature would never have
dignified the birth of a Pagan like Mohammed with such marvelous
prodigies as indubitably attended the advent and crucifixion of
Christ.
In the meantime a tragedy of much moment had occurred. High-spirited
Abdallah--the lovely youth whose charms were so compelling that
two hundred languishing virgins are said to have perished from
jealous disappointment on his wedding night--was already no more.
After remaining with his bride for the customary period of three
days, he had departed on a business engagement to Gaza; but, on
the return trip, he had sickened and died at Medina. The period
of mourning for him was barely over when his posthumous son was
born. Grief-stricken Abd Al-Muttalib, who was still bewailing his
dead son in the repose of the Kaba, was so comforted when Amina’s
messenger brought him the glad tidings that he at once headed a
procession of relatives to visit his latest grandchild. With the
tender babe in his arms, he immediately returned to the Kaba, and,
standing beside its holy altar, he gave thanks to Allah for his
mercies and benefits. One week later Abd Al-Muttalib gave a feast
in honor of the child; and during the course of the festivities the
aged ruler presaged an unspeakably glorious destiny for his grandson
as the dawning leader of his race, and concluded his remarks by
christening him Mohammed, “the Praised.”
Since the suckling of their own children was not considered to be
a proper vocation for high-born Arab women, Amina, as a descendant
of the lordly Koreish, rightly refused to nurse her child. For the
first few days of his precarious existence he was nourished by
Thuweiba, a slave of his own uncle, Abu Lahab; yet, in spite of the
brevity of this experience, it is confidently claimed that Mohammed
never forgot it, and that so long as he lived he regularly sent her
clothes and other gifts. A new nurse then had to be found. According
to some fairly authentic traditions, he spent his first five years
among the Bedouins under the care of a foster-mother named Halima.
At the age of two he was weaned and taken back to his mother; but
she was so pleased with her lusty-looking baby that she said: “Take
him with thee back again to the desert; for I fear the unhealthy
air of Mecca.” After two more years the robust but high-strung boy,
who, like most embryo prophets, had an acutely sensitive nervous
system, showed signs of what was probably an epileptic attack.
His foster-parents were so disturbed that they at once took him
home; and only by the greatest efforts was Amina able to assuage
their fears--were not most children normally subject to worms or
the croup?--and persuade them to take him back to the desert. So
great was their love for the youngster that they did so; but a year
later they were again frightened by recurrent symptoms, and the
five-year-old boy was then definitely restored to his mother, with
whom he remained for nearly another year. Amina then took him to
Medina, where his father’s maternal relatives dwelt; for she felt
all a mother’s delight in showing off the pretty and playful tricks
of her little son. But another momentous tragedy now impended. About
a month later she died; and thus Mohammed, at the age of six, was
left an orphan.
Had the lad’s parents, or even one of them, lived until his maturity!
In either case, incalculable results might have followed: there
might have been no Prophet, no Koran, no Islam--one is tempted to
say that there might have been no Allah. But they died; and for the
next two years the bereaved boy was cared for by Abd Al-Muttalib,
who loved him with all the partiality of age. Sometimes, as the
old patriarch sat at ease on a rug shaded from the sun, Mohammed
would peremptorily usurp his seat. Then the old man’s sons would
try to push the little rascal off, but Abd Al-Muttalib would say,
“Let my little son alone!” and, baked by the burning sun, would pet
Mohammed and feast his ears on the childish shouts and gurgles of
the victor.
Two years later Abd Al-Muttalib went to join Abdallah and Amina,
and Mohammed, weeping bitterly at the loss of his kind-hearted
protector, was consigned to the care of his uncle Abu Talib, the
second of Abd Al-Muttalib’s five surviving sons. Az-Zubeir, the
eldest, inherited the official duties of his deceased father;
but he soon passed that honor on to the fourth son, Al-Abbas, a
money-lender, owner of Zemzem, rich, but unfortunately weak in
character. Abu Lahab, the third son, was destined to be a life-long
foe of the Prophet; but the youngest, Hamza the hunter, was from the
beginning one of his staunchest supporters. Abu Talib, a dealer in
cloths and perfumes, was a poor man, yet he faithfully cared for his
nephew, whom he almost never let out of his sight. When Mohammed was
twelve, he accompanied Abu Talib on a mercantile journey to Syria;
and various writers have mused at length on the probable effects
of this strange, wild expedition on his highly susceptible mind.
It may be, as some believe, that the seeds of his heavenly mission
were sown in his mind during this experience. Whatever else he
was, however, Mohammed was not a youthful prodigy, and perhaps, as
most lads of his age would have done, he merely had a good time.