When Haroun al Rashid died he left the empire to his sons Emin and
Mamoun, giving the former Irak and Syria, and the latter Khorassan and
Persia. Emin had the title of Caliph, to which Mamoun was to succeed.
War broke out between the brothers; Emin fled from Bagdad, but was
captured and slain, and his head sent to Mamoun in Khorassan, who wept
at the sight of it. He had, however, previously, when his general Tahir
sent to him requesting to know what to do with Emin in case he caught
him, sent to the general a shirt with no opening in it for the head.
By this Tahir knew that he wished Emin to be put to death, and acted
accordingly.
The Caliph, however, bore a grudge against Tahir for the death of his
brother, as was shown by the following circumstance: Tahir went one
day to ask some favor from Al Mamoun; the latter granted it, and then
wept till his eyes were bathed in tears. "Commander of the Faithful,"
said Tahir, "why do you weep? May God never cause you to shed a tear!
The universe obeys you, and you have obtained your utmost wishes." "I
weep not," replied the Caliph, "from any humiliation which may have
befallen me, neither do I weep from grief, but my mind is never free
from cares."
These words gave great uneasiness to Tahir, and, on retiring, he said
to Husain, the eunuch who waited at the door of the Caliph's private
apartment: "I wish you to ask the Commander of the Faithful why he wept
on seeing me." On reaching home Tahir sent Husain one hundred thousand
dirhems. Some time afterward, when Al Mamoun was alone and in a good
humor, Husain said to him: "Why did you weep when Tahir came to see
you?" "What is that to you?" replied the Prince. "It made me sad to
see you weep," answered the eunuch. "I shall tell you the reason," the
Caliph said; "but if you ever allow it to pass your lips, I shall have
your head taken off." "O my master," the eunuch replied, "did I ever
disclose any of your secrets?" "I was thinking of my brother Emin,"
said the Caliph, "and of the misfortune which befell him, so that I was
nearly choked with weeping; but Tahir shall not escape me! I shall make
him feel what he will not like."
Husain related this to Tahir, who immediately rode off to the Vizier
Abi Khalid, and said to him: "I am not parsimonious in my gratitude,
and a service rendered to me is never lost; contrive to have me removed
away from Al Mamoun." "I shall," replied Abi Khalid. "Come to me
to-morrow morning." He then rode off to Al Mamoun, and said: "I was
not able to sleep last night." "Why so?" asked the Caliph. "Because
you have entrusted Ghassan with the government of Khorassan, and his
friends are very few, and I fear that ruin awaits him." "And whom do
you think a proper person for it?" said Al Mamoun. "Tahir," replied Abi
Khalid. "He is ambitious," observed the Caliph. "I will answer for his
conduct," said the other.
Al Mamoun then sent for Tahir, and named him governor of Khorassan
on the spot; he made him also a present of an eunuch, to whom he had
just given orders to poison his new master if he remarked anything
suspicious in his conduct. When Tahir was solidly established in his
government he ceased mentioning Al Mamoun's name in the public prayers
as the reigning Caliph. A dispatch was immediately sent off by express
to inform Al Mamoun of the circumstance, and the next morning Tahir
was found dead in his bed. It is said that the eunuch administered the
poison to him in some sauce.
Al Mamoun placed his two sons under the tuition of Al Farra, so that
they might be instructed in grammar. One day Al Farra rose to leave
the house, and the two young princes hastened to bring his shoes. They
struggled between themselves for the honor of offering them to him,
and they finally agreed that each of them should present him with one
slipper. As Al Mamoun had secret agents who informed him of everything
that passed, he learned what had taken place, and caused Al Farra to be
brought before him.
When he entered, the Caliph said to him: "Who is the most honored of
men?" Al Farra answered: "I know not any one more honored than the
Commander of the Faithful." "Nay," replied Al Mamoun, "it is he who
arose to go out, and the two designated successors of the Commander of
the Faithful contended for the honor of presenting him his slippers,
and at length agreed that each of them should offer him one."
Al Farra answered: "Commander of the Faithful, I should have prevented
them from doing so had I not been apprehensive of discouraging their
minds in the pursuit of that excellence to which they ardently aspire.
We know by tradition that Ibn Abbas held the stirrups of Hasan and
Husain, when they were getting on horseback after paying him a visit.
One of those who were present said to him: 'How is it that you hold the
stirrups of these striplings, you who are their elder?' To which he
replied: 'Ignorant man! No one can appreciate the merit of people of
merit except a man of merit.'"
Al Mamoun then said to him: "Had you prevented them, I should have
declared you in fault. That which they have done is no debasement
of their dignity; on the contrary, it exalts their merit. No man,
though great in rank, can be dispensed from three obligations: he must
respect his sovereign, venerate his father, and honor his preceptor.
As a reward for their conduct, I bestow upon them twenty thousand
dinars ($50,000), and on you for the good education you give them, ten
thousand dirhems" ($2,500).
When Al Mamoun was still in Khorassan, a revolt was raised against
him in Bagdad by his uncle, Ibrahim, the son of Mahdi. This prince
had great talent as a singer, and was a skilful performer on musical
instruments. Being of a dark complexion, which he inherited from his
mother, Shikla, who was a negress, and of a large frame of body, he
received the name of At-Tinnin (the Dragon). He was proclaimed Caliph
at Bagdad during the absence of Al Mamoun. The cause which led the
people to renounce Al Mamoun and choose Ibrahim was that the former
had chosen as his successor one of the descendants of Ali, and in
doing so had ordered the public to cease wearing black, which was the
distinctive color of the Abbassides, the reigning family, and to put on
green, the color of the family of Ali and their partizans.
On Mamoun's entry into Bagdad, Ibrahim fled disguised as a woman.
He was, however, detected and arrested by one of the negro police.
When he was before Al Mamoun, who addressed him in ironic terms, he
replied: "Prince of the believers, my crime gives you the right of
retaliation, but 'forgiveness is near neighbor to piety.'[9] God has
placed you above all those who are generous, as he has placed me above
all criminals in the magnitude of my crime. If you punish me you will
be just; if you pardon me you will be great." "Then I pardon you," said
Mamoun, and prostrated himself in prayer.
He commanded, however, that Ibrahim should continue to wear the
_burqa_, or long female veil in which he had fled, so that people might
see in what disguise he had been arrested; he ordered also that he
should be exposed to view in the palace courtyard; then he committed
him to police supervision, and finally, after some days of detention,
set him free.
The following anecdote was related by Ibrahim regarding the time when
he was in hiding with a price set on his head: "I went out one day at
the hour of noon without knowing whither I was going. I found myself in
a narrow street, which ended in a _cul-de-sac_, and noticed a negro
standing in front of the door of a house. I went straight to him, and
asked if he could afford me shelter for a short time. He consented, and
bade me enter. The hall was adorned with mats and leather cushions.
Then he left me alone, closed the door, and departed. A suspicion
flashed across my mind; this man knew that a price was set on my head,
and had gone to denounce me.
"While I was revolving these gloomy thoughts, he returned with a
servant bearing a tray loaded with victuals. 'May my life be a
sacrifice for you,' he said. 'I am a barber, and therefore I have not
touched any of these things with my hand; do me the honor to partake of
them.' Hunger pressed me; I rose and obeyed. 'What about some wine?'
he asked. 'I do not detest it,' I replied. He brought some, and then
said again: 'May my life be your ransom! Will you allow me to sit near
you and drink to your health?' I consented. After having emptied three
cups, he opened a cupboard and took out a lute. 'Sir,' he said, 'it
does not behoove a man of my low degree to beg you to sing, but your
kindness prompts me to do so; if you deign to consent it will be a
great honor for your slave.'
"'How do you know that I am a good singer?' I asked him. 'By Allah!'
he answered, with an air of astonishment, 'your reputation is too
great for me not to know it: you are Ibrahim, the son of Mahdi, and a
reward of a hundred thousand dirhems is promised by Al Mamoun to the
man who will find you.' At these words I took the lute, and was about
to commence, when he added: 'Sir, would you be so kind as first to sing
the piece which I shall choose?' When I consented he chose three airs
in which I had no rival. Then I said to him: 'You know me, I admit;
but where did you learn to know these three airs?' 'I have been,' he
answered, 'in the service of Ishak, son of Ibrahim Mausili,[10] and I
have often heard him speak of the great singers and the airs in which
they excelled; but who could have guessed that I would hear you myself
and in my own house?'
"I sang to him accordingly, and remained some time in his company,
charmed with his agreeable manners. At nightfall I took leave of him. I
had brought with me a purse full of gold pieces; I offered it to him,
promising him a greater reward some day. This is strange,' he said; 'it
is rather I who should offer you all I possess, and implore you to do
me the honor to accept it. Only respect has restrained me from doing
so.' He refused, accordingly, to receive anything from me; but he went
out with me and put me on the road to the place whither I wished to go.
Then he went off, and I have never seen him since."
_Al Mamoun and Ibrahim, the Son of Mahdi_
One day ten inhabitants of Basra were denounced to Al Mamoun as
heretics who held the doctrine of Manes (Manichæans) and the two
principles of light and darkness. He ordered them to be brought into
his presence. A parasite, who saw them being taken, said to himself:
"Here are folk who are going off for a jollification." He slipped in
among them, and accompanied them without perceiving who they were
till they reached the boat in which their guards made them embark.
"Doubtless this is a pleasure party!" he exclaimed, and went on board
with them. Soon, however, the guards brought chains and fettered the
whole band, including the parasite, who said to himself: "My greediness
has ended by making me a prisoner." Then he addressed the seniors of
the band: "Pardon me," he said; "may I ask who you are?" "Tell us,
rather, who _you_ are," they answered, "and whether we may reckon you
among our brothers." "God knows I scarcely know you," he replied. "As
for me, to tell the truth, I am a professional parasite. When I left
my home this morning I happened to fall in with you. Struck with your
agreeable appearance and good manners, I said to myself: 'Here are some
well-to-do people going to enjoy themselves.' Consequently I joined
your company, and took my place beside you as though I were one of you.
When we reached the boat, which was provided with carpets and cushions,
and I saw all these bags and well-filled baskets, I thought: 'They are
going for an outing in some park or pleasure-ground; this is a lucky
day for me.'
"I was still congratulating myself when the guards came and fettered
you, and me with you. I now feel quite bewildered; tell me, therefore,
what it is all about." These words amused the prisoners, and made them
smile. They replied: "Now that you are on the list of the suspected,
and are chained, know that we are Manichæans who have been denounced
to Mamoun, and are being taken to him. He will ask us who we are, will
question us concerning our belief, and will exhort us to repent and
to abjure our religion, proposing various tests to us; he will, for
example, show us an image of Manes, commanding us to spit upon it and
to renounce him; he will command us to sacrifice a pheasant. Whoever
will do so will save his life; whoever refuses will be put to death.
When you are called and put to the test you will say who you are and
what your belief is, according as you feel prompted. But did you not
say you were a parasite? Now, such people have an ample store of
anecdotes and stories; shorten our journey, then, by recounting some."
As soon as they arrived at Bagdad the prisoners were conducted into the
presence of Mamoun. He called each in turn as his name was on the list;
he asked each concerning his sect, and urged them to renounce Manes,
showing them his image, and commanding them to spit on it. As they
refused, he had them handed over one by one to the executioner.
At last the parasite's turn came. But as the ten prisoners had been
done with and the list was exhausted, Mamoun asked the guards who he
was. "Truly, we know nothing about him," they answered. "We found him
among them and brought him hither." "Who are you?" the Caliph asked
him. "Prince of the believers," he said, "may my wife be divorced if I
understand what they are talking about! I am only a poor parasite." And
he told him his whole story from beginning to end.
The Caliph was much amused, and ordered the image of Manes to be
presented to him; the parasite cursed and renounced the heretic
heartily. Al Mamoun, however, was about to punish him for his temerity
and impudence, when Ibrahim, the son of Mahdi, who was present, said:
"Sire, let this man off, and I will relate to you a kind of Bohemian
adventure, of which I was the hero." The Caliph assented, and Ibrahim
continued:
"Prince of the believers, I had gone out one day, and was roving at
random through the streets of Bagdad, when I came to the porch of a
lofty mansion, whence issued a delicious odor of spices and dressed
meats, by which I was strongly attracted. I addressed a passer-by, and
asked to whom the house belonged. 'To a linen-merchant,' he answered.
'What is his name?' I asked. 'Such a one, son of such a one,' was his
reply. I lifted my eyes to the house. Through the lattice-work which
covered one of the windows I saw appear such a beautiful hand and wrist
as I had never seen before. The charm of this apparition made me forget
the enticing odors, and I stood there troubled and perplexed. Finally,
I asked the man, who had remained standing near, if the master of the
house ever gave entertainments. 'Yes, I think he is giving one to-day,'
he answered; 'but his guests are merchants, staid and sober people like
himself.'
"We were thus engaged in talk when two persons of well-to-do appearance
came down the street toward us. 'There are his two guests,' the man
said to me. 'What are their names and their fathers' names?' I asked.
He informed me, and I accosted them immediately, saying: 'May my
life be your sacrifice; your host is waiting impatiently for you.' I
escorted them to the door as if I belonged to the house; they went in,
and I followed. The master of the house perceived me, and, supposing
that I had been brought by his friends, received me graciously, and
placed me in the seat of honor. Then the meal was brought; it was well
served, and we did honor to the dishes, whose savor excelled their
odor. When the food had been removed and we had washed our hands,
our host led us into another hall richly adorned. He redoubled his
politeness toward me, and specially addressed his conversation to me.
The two guests believed me to be an intimate friend of his, while the
host treated me in this fashion because he believed I had been brought
by his two friends.
"We had already emptied several cups when a young female slave came
forward, as graceful as a willow-branch, and saluted us without
timidity. She was offered a cushion to sit upon, and a lute was brought
to her, which she tuned with a skill which struck me. She then sang an
air in a most enchanting fashion; so great was the skill and art with
which she sang that I could not suppress a feeling of jealousy. 'Young
girl,' I said to her, 'you have still a good deal to learn.' These
words irritated her; she threw down the lute, and exclaimed to the
host: 'Since when do you admit to your intimacy such vexatious guests?'
"I repented of my remark when I saw the others look at me askance. 'Is
there a lute here?' I asked. 'Yes,' was the reply. They brought me one,
which I tuned to my liking, and then sang. I had hardly finished when
the young slave cast herself at my feet, and, embracing them, said:
'Sir, pardon me in the name of heaven; I have never heard that air sung
so exquisitely.' Her master and those present followed her example
in praising me; cheerfulness was restored, and the cups circulated
rapidly. I sang again, and the enthusiasm of my hearers was roused to
such a pitch that I thought they would take leave of their senses. I
waited awhile to let them recover themselves; then, taking my lute
again, I sang for the third time. 'By Allah!' cried the slave, 'that is
what deserves to be called singing!'
"The others, however, were beginning to feel the effects of the wine;
the master of the house, who had a stronger head than his guests,
entrusted them to the care of his own servants and of theirs, and had
them conveyed home. I remained alone with him. After we had emptied
some more cups, he said to me: 'Truly, sir, I consider the past days
of my life, in which I did not know you, wasted. Kindly inform me
who you are.' He pressed me so much that at last I told him my name.
Immediately he rose, kissed my hand, and said: 'I should have been
surprised, sir, had any one of a rank inferior to your own possessed
such skill. To think one of the royal house was with me all the time,
and I knew it not!' Being pressed by him to tell my story and what had
attracted me to his house, I told him how I had stopped when I smelt
the odor of the food, and described the hand and wrist I had seen at
the window.
"He straightway called one of his female slaves and said: 'Go and
tell So-and-so to come down.' He had all the slaves in succession
brought before me. After having examined their hands, I said: 'No! the
possessor of the hand I saw is not among them.' 'By Allah!' said my
host, 'there are only my mother and my sister left! I will send for
them.' Such generosity and kindness of heart surprised me. I said to
him: 'May my life be your sacrifice! Before calling your mother, call
your sister; it is probably she of whom I am in search.' 'Very well,'
he said, and sent for her.
"As soon as I set eyes on her hand and wrist I cried: 'It is she, my
dear host, it is she!' Without losing a moment, he ordered his servants
to bring together ten respectable elderly men from the neighborhood.
They came; he then sent for a sum of twenty thousand dirhems in two
bags, and, addressing the ten men, said: 'I take you to witness that
I give my sister here in marriage to Ibrahim, son of Mahdi, and that
I bestow upon her a dowry of twenty thousand dirhems.' His sister and
I both gave our agreement to the marriage, after which I gave one of
the bags of money to my young wife, and distributed the other among
the witnesses, saying: 'Excuse me, but this is all I have by me at
present.' They accepted my present and retired.
"My host then proposed to prepare in his own house an apartment for us.
Such generosity and kindness made me feel quite embarrassed. I said
that I only desired a litter to convey my wife. He readily agreed, and
sent along with it so magnificent a trousseau that it entirely fills
one of my houses."
Mamoun was astonished at the generosity of the merchant. He granted
his freedom and a rich present to the parasite, and ordered Ibrahim to
present his father-in-law at court. The latter became one of the most
intimate courtiers and companions of the Caliph.
_The Death of Al Mamoun_
During Al Mamoun's last campaign against the Greek Emperor he arrived
at the River Qushairah, and encamped on its banks. Charmed by the
clearness and purity of its waters, and by the beauty and fertility
of the surrounding country, he had a kind of arbor constructed by the
banks of the stream, intending to rest there some days. So clear was
the water that the inscription on a coin lying at the bottom could be
clearly read; but it was so cold that it was impossible for any one to
bathe in it.
All at once a fish, about a fathom in length and flashing like an ingot
of silver, appeared in the water. The Caliph promised a reward to any
one who would capture it; an attendant went down, caught the fish and
regained the shore, but as he approached the spot where Al Mamoun was
sitting, the fish slipped from his grasp, fell into the water, and
sank like a stone to the bottom. Some of the water was splashed on the
Caliph's neck, chest, and arms, and wetted his clothes. The attendant
went down again, recaptured the fish, and placed it, wriggling, in
a napkin before the Caliph. Just as he had ordered it to be fried,
Al Mamoun felt a sudden shiver, and could not move from the place.
In vain he was covered with rugs and skins; he trembled like a leaf,
and exclaimed: "I am cold! I am cold!" He was carried into his tent,
covered with clothes, and a fire was lit, but he continued to complain
of cold. When the fish had been cooked it was brought to him, but he
could neither taste nor touch it, so great was his suffering.
As he grew rapidly worse, his brother Mutasim questioned Bakhteshou
and Ibn Masouyieh, his physicians, on his condition, and whether they
could do him any good. Ibn Masouyieh took one of the patient's hands
and Bakhteshou the other, and felt his pulse together; the irregular
pulsations heralded his dissolution. Just then Al Mamoun awoke out of
his stupor; he opened his eyes, and caused some of the natives of the
place to be sent for, and questioned them regarding the stream and the
locality. When asked regarding the meaning of the name "Qushairah"
they replied that it signified "Stretch out thy feet" (_i.e._, "die").
Al Mamoun then inquired the Arabic name of the country, and was told
"Rakkah." Now, the horoscope drawn at the moment of his birth announced
that he would die in a place of that name; therefore he had always
avoided residing in the city of Rakkah, fearing to die there. When he
heard the answer given by these people, he felt sure that this was the
place predicted by his horoscope. Feeling himself becoming worse, he
commanded that he should be carried outside his tent in order to survey
his camp and his army once more. It was now night-time. As his gaze
wandered over the long lines of the camp and the lights twinkling into
the distance, he cried: "O thou whose reign will never end, have mercy
on him whose reign is now ending." He was then carried back to his bed.
Mutasim, seeing that he was sinking, commanded some one to whisper in
his ear the confession of the Mohammedan faith ("There is no God but
God, and Mohammed is the Apostle of God"). As the attendant was about
to speak, in order that Al Mamoun might repeat the words after him,
Ibn Masouyieh said to him: "Do not speak, for truly he could not now
distinguish between God and Manes." The dying man opened his eyes—they
seemed extraordinarily large, and shone with a wonderful luster; his
hands clutched at the doctor; he tried to speak to him, but could not;
then his eyes turned toward heaven and filled with tears; finally his
tongue was loosened, and he spoke: "O thou who diest not, have mercy
on him who dies," and he expired immediately. His body was carried to
Tarsus and buried there.