empire might aspire to multiply the chances of a numerous posterity and
a lineal succession. The hopes of Mahomet were fatally disappointed. The
virgin Ayesha, and his ten widows of mature age and approved fertility,
were barren in his potent embraces. The four sons of Cadijah died in
their infancy. Mary, his Egyptian concubine, was endeared to him by the
birth of Ibrahim. At the end of fifteen months the prophet wept over his
grave; but he sustained with firmness the raillery of his enemies, and
checked the adulation or credulity of the Moslems, by the assurance that
an eclipse of the sun was not occasioned by the death of the infant.
Cadijah had likewise given him four daughters, who were married to
the most faithful of his disciples: the three eldest died before their
father; but Fatima, who possessed his confidence and love, became the
wife of her cousin Ali, and the mother of an illustrious progeny.
The merit and misfortunes of Ali and his descendants will lead me to
anticipate, in this place, the series of the Saracen caliphs, a title
which describes the commanders of the faithful as the vicars and
successors of the apostle of God.
The birth, the alliance, the character of Ali, which exalted him above
the rest of his countrymen, might justify his claim to the vacant throne
of Arabia. The son of Abu Taleb was, in his own right, the chief of the
family of Hashem, and the hereditary prince or guardian of the city and
temple of Mecca. The light of prophecy was extinct; but the husband
of Fatima might expect the inheritance and blessing of her father:
the Arabs had sometimes been patient of a female reign; and the two
grandsons of the prophet had often been fondled in his lap, and shown
in his pulpit as the hope of his age, and the chief of the youth of
paradise. The first of the true believers might aspire to march before
them in this world and in the next; and if some were of a graver and
more rigid cast, the zeal and virtue of Ali were never outstripped by
any recent proselyte. He united the qualifications of a poet, a soldier,
and a saint: his wisdom still breathes in a collection of moral and
religious sayings; and every antagonist, in the combats of the tongue
or of the sword, was subdued by his eloquence and valor. From the first
hour of his mission to the last rites of his funeral, the apostle was
never forsaken by a generous friend, whom he delighted to name his
brother, his vicegerent, and the faithful Aaron of a second Moses. The
son of Abu Taleb was afterwards reproached for neglecting to secure his
interest by a solemn declaration of his right, which would have silenced
all competition, and sealed his succession by the decrees of Heaven. But
the unsuspecting hero confided in himself: the jealousy of empire,
and perhaps the fear of opposition, might suspend the resolutions of
Mahomet; and the bed of sickness was besieged by the artful Ayesha, the
daughter of Abubeker, and the enemy of Ali.
The silence and death of the prophet restored the liberty of the people;
and his companions convened an assembly to deliberate on the choice
of his successor. The hereditary claim and lofty spirit of Ali were
offensive to an aristocracy of elders, desirous of bestowing and
resuming the sceptre by a free and frequent election: the Koreish could
never be reconciled to the proud preÎminence of the line of Hashem; the
ancient discord of the tribes was rekindled, the _fugitives_ of Mecca
and the _auxiliaries_ of Medina asserted their respective merits; and
the rash proposal of choosing two independent caliphs would have crushed
in their infancy the religion and empire of the Saracens. The tumult
was appeased by the disinterested resolution of Omar, who, suddenly
renouncing his own pretensions, stretched forth his hand, and declared
himself the first subject of the mild and venerable Abubeker. The
urgency of the moment, and the acquiescence of the people, might excuse
this illegal and precipitate measure; but Omar himself confessed from
the pulpit, that if any Mussulman should hereafter presume to anticipate
the suffrage of his brethren, both the elector and the elected would
be worthy of death. After the simple inauguration of Abubeker, he was
obeyed in Medina, Mecca, and the provinces of Arabia: the Hashemites
alone declined the oath of fidelity; and their chief, in his own house,
maintained, above six months, a sullen and independent reserve; without
listening to the threats of Omar, who attempted to consume with fire the
habitation of the daughter of the apostle. The death of Fatima, and
the decline of his party, subdued the indignant spirit of Ali: he
condescended to salute the commander of the faithful, accepted his
excuse of the necessity of preventing their common enemies, and wisely
rejected his courteous offer of abdicating the government of the
Arabians. After a reign of two years, the aged caliph was summoned by
the angel of death. In his testament, with the tacit approbation of his
companions, he bequeathed the sceptre to the firm and intrepid virtue of
Omar. "I have no occasion," said the modest candidate, "for the place."
"But the place has occasion for you," replied Abubeker; who expired with
a fervent prayer, that the God of Mahomet would ratify his choice, and
direct the Mussulmans in the way of concord and obedience. The prayer
was not ineffectual, since Ali himself, in a life of privacy and prayer,
professed to revere the superior worth and dignity of his rival; who
comforted him for the loss of empire, by the most flattering marks of
confidence and esteem. In the twelfth year of his reign, Omar received
a mortal wound from the hand of an assassin: he rejected with equal
impartiality the names of his son and of Ali, refused to load his
conscience with the sins of his successor, and devolved on six of the
most respectable companions the arduous task of electing a commander of
the faithful. On this occasion, Ali was again blamed by his friends
for submitting his right to the judgment of men, for recognizing their
jurisdiction by accepting a place among the six electors. He might have
obtained their suffrage, had he deigned to promise a strict and servile
conformity, not only to the Koran and tradition, but likewise to the
determinations of two _seniors_. With these limitations, Othman, the
secretary of Mahomet, accepted the government; nor was it till after the
third caliph, twenty-four years after the death of the prophet, that
Ali was invested, by the popular choice, with the regal and sacerdotal
office. The manners of the Arabians retained their primitive simplicity,
and the son of Abu Taleb despised the pomp and vanity of this world.
At the hour of prayer, he repaired to the mosch of Medina, clothed in a
thin cotton gown, a coarse turban on his head, his slippers in one hand,
and his bow in the other, instead of a walking-staff. The companions of
the prophet, and the chiefs of the tribes, saluted their new sovereign,
and gave him their right hands as a sign of fealty and allegiance.
The mischiefs that flow from the contests of ambition are usually
confined to the times and countries in which they have been agitated.
But the religious discord of the friends and enemies of Ali has been
renewed in every age of the Hegira, and is still maintained in the
immortal hatred of the Persians and Turks. The former, who are branded
with the appellation of _Shiites_ or sectaries, have enriched the
Mahometan creed with a new article of faith; and if Mahomet be the
apostle, his companion Ali is the vicar, of God. In their private
converse, in their public worship, they bitterly execrate the three
usurpers who intercepted his indefeasible right to the dignity of Imam
and Caliph; and the name of Omar expresses in their tongue the perfect
accomplishment of wickedness and impiety. The _Sonnites_, who are
supported by the general consent and orthodox tradition of the
Mussulmans, entertain a more impartial, or at least a more decent,
opinion. They respect the memory of Abubeker, Omar, Othman, and Ali, the
holy and legitimate successors of the prophet. But they assign the last
and most humble place to the husband of Fatima, in the persuasion that
the order of succession was determined by the decrees of sanctity.
An historian who balances the four caliphs with a hand unshaken by
superstition, will calmly pronounce that their manners were alike pure
and exemplary; that their zeal was fervent, and probably sincere; and
that, in the midst of riches and power, their lives were devoted to
the practice of moral and religious duties. But the public virtues
of Abubeker and Omar, the prudence of the first, the severity of the
second, maintained the peace and prosperity of their reigns. The feeble
temper and declining age of Othman were incapable of sustaining the
weight of conquest and empire. He chose, and he was deceived; he
trusted, and he was betrayed: the most deserving of the faithful
became useless or hostile to his government, and his lavish bounty was
productive only of ingratitude and discontent. The spirit of discord
went forth in the provinces: their deputies assembled at Medina; and
the Charegites, the desperate fanatics who disclaimed the yoke of
subordination and reason, were confounded among the free-born Arabs,
who demanded the redress of their wrongs and the punishment of their
oppressors. From Cufa, from Bassora, from Egypt, from the tribes of
the desert, they rose in arms, encamped about a league from Medina,
and despatched a haughty mandate to their sovereign, requiring him to
execute justice, or to descend from the throne. His repentance began to
disarm and disperse the insurgents; but their fury was rekindled by
the arts of his enemies; and the forgery of a perfidious secretary was
contrived to blast his reputation and precipitate his fall. The caliph
had lost the only guard of his predecessors, the esteem and confidence
of the Moslems: during a siege of six weeks his water and provisions
were intercepted, and the feeble gates of the palace were protected only
by the scruples of the more timorous rebels. Forsaken by those who had
abused his simplicity, the hopeless and venerable caliph expected the
approach of death: the brother of Ayesha marched at the head of the
assassins; and Othman, with the Koran in his lap, was pierced with a
multitude of wounds. A tumultuous anarchy of five days was appeased
by the inauguration of Ali: his refusal would have provoked a general
massacre. In this painful situation he supported the becoming pride
of the chief of the Hashemites; declared that he had rather serve
than reign; rebuked the presumption of the strangers; and required the
formal, if not the voluntary, assent of the chiefs of the nation. He
has never been accused of prompting the assassin of Omar; though Persia
indiscreetly celebrates the festival of that holy martyr. The quarrel
between Othman and his subjects was assuaged by the early mediation of
Ali; and Hassan, the eldest of his sons, was insulted and wounded in the
defence of the caliph. Yet it is doubtful whether the father of Hassan
was strenuous and sincere in his opposition to the rebels; and it is
certain that he enjoyed the benefit of their crime. The temptation was
indeed of such magnitude as might stagger and corrupt the most obdurate
virtue. The ambitious candidate no longer aspired to the barren sceptre
of Arabia; the Saracens had been victorious in the East and West; and
the wealthy kingdoms of Persia, Syria, and Egypt were the patrimony of
the commander of the faithful.
Chapter L: Description Of Arabia And Its Inhabitants.--Part VIII.
A life of prayer and contemplation had not chilled the martial activity
of Ali; but in a mature age, after a long experience of mankind, he
still betrayed in his conduct the rashness and indiscretion of youth.
In the first days of his reign, he neglected to secure, either by gifts
or fetters, the doubtful allegiance of Telha and Zobeir, two of the most
powerful of the Arabian chiefs. They escaped from Medina to Mecca, and
from thence to Bassora; erected the standard of revolt; and usurped the
government of Irak, or Assyria, which they had vainly solicited as the
reward of their services. The mask of patriotism is allowed to cover the
most glaring inconsistencies; and the enemies, perhaps the assassins,
of Othman now demanded vengeance for his blood. They were accompanied in
their flight by Ayesha, the widow of the prophet, who cherished, to the
last hour of her life, an implacable hatred against the husband and the
posterity of Fatima. The most reasonable Moslems were scandalized,
that the mother of the faithful should expose in a camp her person and
character; but the superstitious crowd was confident that her presence
would sanctify the justice, and assure the success, of their cause.
At the head of twenty thousand of his loyal Arabs, and nine thousand
valiant auxiliaries of Cufa, the caliph encountered and defeated
the superior numbers of the rebels under the walls of Bassora. Their
leaders, Telha and Zobeir, ß were slain in the first battle that stained
with civil blood the arms of the Moslems. || After passing through
the ranks to animate the troops, Ayesha had chosen her post amidst the
dangers of the field. In the heat of the action, seventy men, who held
the bridle of her camel, were successively killed or wounded; and the
cage or litter, in which she sat, was stuck with javelins and darts like
the quills of a porcupine. The venerable captive sustained with firmness
the reproaches of the conqueror, and was speedily dismissed to her
proper station at the tomb of Mahomet, with the respect and tenderness
that was still due to the widow of the apostle. After this victory,
which was styled the Day of the Camel, Ali marched against a more
formidable adversary; against Moawiyah, the son of Abu Sophian, who had
assumed the title of caliph, and whose claim was supported by the forces
of Syria and the interest of the house of Ommiyah. From the passage of
Thapsacus, the plain of Siffin extends along the western bank of the
Euphrates. On this spacious and level theatre, the two competitors waged
a desultory war of one hundred and ten days. In the course of ninety
actions or skirmishes, the loss of Ali was estimated at twenty-five,
that of Moawiyah at forty-five, thousand soldiers; and the list of the
slain was dignified with the names of five-and-twenty veterans who
had fought at Beder under the standard of Mahomet. In this sanguinary
contest the lawful caliph displayed a superior character of valor and
humanity. His troops were strictly enjoined to await the first onset of
the enemy, to spare their flying brethren, and to respect the bodies
of the dead, and the chastity of the female captives. He generously
proposed to save the blood of the Moslems by a single combat; but his
trembling rival declined the challenge as a sentence of inevitable
death. The ranks of the Syrians were broken by the charge of a hero who
was mounted on a piebald horse, and wielded with irresistible force his
ponderous and two-edged sword. As often as he smote a rebel, he shouted
the Allah Acbar, "God is victorious!" and in the tumult of a nocturnal
battle, he was heard to repeat four hundred times that tremendous
exclamation. The prince of Damascus already meditated his flight;
but the certain victory was snatched from the grasp of Ali by the
disobedience and enthusiasm of his troops. Their conscience was awed by
the solemn appeal to the books of the Koran which Moawiyah exposed on
the foremost lances; and Ali was compelled to yield to a disgraceful
truce and an insidious compromise. He retreated with sorrow and
indignation to Cufa; his party was discouraged; the distant provinces
of Persia, of Yemen, and of Egypt, were subdued or seduced by his crafty
rival; and the stroke of fanaticism, which was aimed against the three
chiefs of the nation, was fatal only to the cousin of Mahomet. In the
temple of Mecca, three Charegites or enthusiasts discoursed of the
disorders of the church and state: they soon agreed, that the deaths of
Ali, of Moawiyah, and of his friend Amrou, the viceroy of Egypt, would
restore the peace and unity of religion. Each of the assassins chose his
victim, poisoned his dagger, devoted his life, and secretly repaired
to the scene of action. Their resolution was equally desperate: but the
first mistook the person of Amrou, and stabbed the deputy who occupied
his seat; the prince of Damascus was dangerously hurt by the second; the
lawful caliph, in the mosch of Cufa, received a mortal wound from the
hand of the third. He expired in the sixty-third year of his age, and
mercifully recommended to his children, that they would despatch the
murderer by a single stroke. The sepulchre of Ali was concealed
from the tyrants of the house of Ommiyah; but in the fourth age of the
Hegira, a tomb, a temple, a city, arose near the ruins of Cufa. Many
thousands of the Shiites repose in holy ground at the feet of the vicar
of God; and the desert is vivified by the numerous and annual visits of
the Persians, who esteem their devotion not less meritorious than the
pilgrimage of Mecca.
The persecutors of Mahomet usurped the inheritance of his children; and
the champions of idolatry became the supreme heads of his religion and
empire. The opposition of Abu Sophian had been fierce and obstinate;
his conversion was tardy and reluctant; his new faith was fortified by
necessity and interest; he served, he fought, perhaps he believed; and
the sins of the time of ignorance were expiated by the recent merits
of the family of Ommiyah. Moawiyah, the son of Abu Sophian, and of the
cruel Henda, was dignified, in his early youth, with the office or title
of secretary of the prophet: the judgment of Omar intrusted him with the
government of Syria; and he administered that important province above
forty years, either in a subordinate or supreme rank. Without renouncing
the fame of valor and liberality, he affected the reputation of humanity
and moderation: a grateful people was attached to their benefactor;
and the victorious Moslems were enriched with the spoils of Cyprus and
Rhodes. The sacred duty of pursuing the assassins of Othman was the
engine and pretence of his ambition. The bloody shirt of the martyr
was exposed in the mosch of Damascus: the emir deplored the fate of his
injured kinsman; and sixty thousand Syrians were engaged in his service
by an oath of fidelity and revenge. Amrou, the conqueror of Egypt,
himself an army, was the first who saluted the new monarch, and
divulged the dangerous secret, that the Arabian caliphs might be created
elsewhere than in the city of the prophet. The policy of Moawiyah eluded
the valor of his rival; and, after the death of Ali, he negotiated the
abdication of his son Hassan, whose mind was either above or below the
government of the world, and who retired without a sigh from the palace
of Cufa to an humble cell near the tomb of his grandfather. The aspiring
wishes of the caliph were finally crowned by the important change of an
elective to an hereditary kingdom. Some murmurs of freedom or fanaticism
attested the reluctance of the Arabs, and four citizens of Medina
refused the oath of fidelity; but the designs of Moawiyah were conducted
with vigor and address; and his son Yezid, a feeble and dissolute youth,
was proclaimed as the commander of the faithful and the successor on the
apostle of God.
A familiar story is related of the benevolence of one of the sons of
Ali. In serving at table, a slave had inadvertently dropped a dish of
scalding broth on his master: the heedless wretch fell prostrate, to
deprecate his punishment, and repeated a verse of the Koran: "Paradise
is for those who command their anger: "--"I am not angry: "--"and for
those who pardon offences: "--"I pardon your offence: "--"and for those
who return good for evil: "--"I give you your liberty and four hundred
pieces of silver." With an equal measure of piety, Hosein, the younger
brother of Hassan, inherited a remnant of his father's spirit, and
served with honor against the Christians in the siege of Constantinople.
The primogeniture of the line of Hashem, and the holy character of
grandson of the apostle, had centred in his person, and he was at
liberty to prosecute his claim against Yezid, the tyrant of Damascus,
whose vices he despised, and whose title he had never deigned to
acknowledge. A list was secretly transmitted from Cufa to Medina, of one
hundred and forty thousand Moslems, who professed their attachment to
his cause, and who were eager to draw their swords so soon as he should
appear on the banks of the Euphrates. Against the advice of his wisest
friends, he resolved to trust his person and family in the hands of a
perfidious people. He traversed the desert of Arabia with a timorous
retinue of women and children; but as he approached the confines of
Irak he was alarmed by the solitary or hostile face of the country,
and suspected either the defection or ruin of his party. His fears
were just: Obeidollah, the governor of Cufa, had extinguished the first
sparks of an insurrection; and Hosein, in the plain of Kerbela, was
encompassed by a body of five thousand horse, who intercepted his
communication with the city and the river. He might still have escaped
to a fortress in the desert, that had defied the power of CÊsar and
Chosroes, and confided in the fidelity of the tribe of Tai, which would
have armed ten thousand warriors in his defence. In a conference with
the chief of the enemy, he proposed the option of three honorable
conditions: that he should be allowed to return to Medina, or be
stationed in a frontier garrison against the Turks, or safely conducted
to the presence of Yezid. But the commands of the caliph, or his
lieutenant, were stern and absolute; and Hosein was informed that he
must either submit as a captive and a criminal to the commander of the
faithful, or expect the consequences of his rebellion. "Do you think,"
replied he, "to terrify me with death?" And, during the short respite of
a night, he prepared with calm and solemn resignation to encounter his
fate. He checked the lamentations of his sister Fatima, who deplored the
impending ruin of his house. "Our trust," said Hosein, "is in God alone.
All things, both in heaven and earth, must perish and return to their
Creator. My brother, my father, my mother, were better than me, and
every Mussulman has an example in the prophet." He pressed his friends
to consult their safety by a timely flight: they unanimously refused to
desert or survive their beloved master: and their courage was fortified
by a fervent prayer and the assurance of paradise. On the morning of the
fatal day, he mounted on horseback, with his sword in one hand and
the Koran in the other: his generous band of martyrs consisted only of
thirty-two horse and forty foot; but their flanks and rear were secured
by the tent-ropes, and by a deep trench which they had filled with
lighted fagots, according to the practice of the Arabs. The enemy
advanced with reluctance, and one of their chiefs deserted, with thirty
followers, to claim the partnership of inevitable death. In every close
onset, or single combat, the despair of the Fatimites was invincible;
but the surrounding multitudes galled them from a distance with a cloud
of arrows, and the horses and men were successively slain; a truce was
allowed on both sides for the hour of prayer; and the battle at length
expired by the death of the last companions of Hosein. Alone, weary, and
wounded, he seated himself at the door of his tent. As he tasted a
drop of water, he was pierced in the mouth with a dart; and his son and
nephew, two beautiful youths, were killed in his arms. He lifted his
hands to heaven; they were full of blood; and he uttered a funeral
prayer for the living and the dead. In a transport of despair his sister
issued from the tent, and adjured the general of the Cufians, that he
would not suffer Hosein to be murdered before his eyes: a tear trickled
down his venerable beard; and the boldest of his soldiers fell back on
every side as the dying hero threw himself among them. The remorseless
Shamer, a name detested by the faithful, reproached their cowardice;
and the grandson of Mahomet was slain with three-and-thirty strokes of
lances and swords. After they had trampled on his body, they carried his
head to the castle of Cufa, and the inhuman Obeidollah struck him on the
mouth with a cane: "Alas," exclaimed an aged Mussulman, "on these
lips have I seen the lips of the apostle of God!" In a distant age
and climate, the tragic scene of the death of Hosein will awaken
the sympathy of the coldest reader. On the annual festival of his
martyrdom, in the devout pilgrimage to his sepulchre, his Persian
votaries abandon their souls to the religious frenzy of sorrow and
indignation.