Thirdly and lastly we have the histories, historical stories and

the “Ana” of great men in which Easterns as well as Westerns

delight: the gravest writers do not disdain to relieve the

dullness of chronicles and annals by means of such discussions,

humorous or pathetic, moral or grossly indecent. The dates must

greatly vary: some of the anecdotes relating to the early Caliphs

appear almost contemporary; others, like Ali of Cairo and Abu al-Shamat,

may be as late as the Ottoman Conquest of Egypt

(sixteenth century). All are distinctly Sunnite and show fierce

animus against the Shi’ah heretics, suggesting that they were

written after the destruction of the Fatimite dynasty (twelfth

century) by Salah al-Din (Saladin the Kurd) one of the latest

historical personages and the last king named in The Nights.

[FN#253] These anecdotes are so often connected with what a

learned Frenchman terms the “regne féerique de Haroun er-Réschid,”[FN#254

] that the Great Caliph becomes the hero of this

portion of The Nights. Aaron the Orthodox was the central figure

of the most splendid empire the world had seen, the Viceregent of

Allah combining the powers of Cæsar and Pope, and wielding them

right worthily according to the general voice of historians. To

quote a few: Ali bin Talib al-Khorásáni described him, in A.D.

934, a century and-a-half after his death when flattery would be

tongue-tied, as, “one devoted to war and pilgrimage, whose bounty

embraced the folk at large.” Sa’adi (ob. A.D. 1291) tells a tale

highly favourable to him in the “Gulistan” (lib. i. 36). Fakhr

al-Din[FN#255] (xivth century) lauds his merits, eloquence,

science and generosity; and Al-Siyuti (nat. A.D. 1445) asserts

“He was one of the most distinguished of Caliphs and the most

illustrious of the Princes of the Earth” (p. 290). The Shaykh

al-Nafzáwi[FN#256] (sixteenth century) in his Rauz al-Átir fí

Nazáh al-Khátir = Scented Garden-site for Heart-delight, calls

Harun (chapt. vii.) the “Master of munificence and bounty, the

best of the generous.” And even the latest writers have not

ceased to praise him. Says Alí Azíz Efendi the Cretan, in the

Story of Jewád[FN#257] (p. 81), “Harun was the most bounteous,

illustrious and upright of the Abbaside Caliphs.”

The fifth Abbaside was fair and handsome, of noble and majestic

presence, a sportsman and an athlete who delighted in polo and

archery. He showed sound sense and true wisdom in his speech to

the grammarian-poet Al-Asma’î, who had undertaken to teach him:—

“Ne m’enseignez jamais en public, et ne vous empressez pas trop

de me donner des avis en particulier. Attendez ordinairement que

je vous interroge, et contentez vous de me donner une response

précise à ce que je vous demanderai, sans y rien ajouter de

superflu. Gardez vous surtout de vouloir me préoccuper pour vous

attirer ma creance, et pour vous donner de l’autorité. Ne vous

etendez jamais trop en long sur les histoires et les traditions

que vous me raconterez, si je ne vous en donne la permission.

Lorsque vous verrai que je m’eloignerai de l’équité dans mes

jugements, ramenez-moi avec douceur, sans user de paroles

fâcheuses ni de réprimandes. Enseignez-moi principalement les

choses qui sont les plus necessaires pour les dis cours que je

dois faire en public, dans les mosquées et ailleurs; et ne parlez

point en termes obscurs, ou mystérieux, ni avec des paroles trop

recherchées.”[FN#258]

He became well read in science and letters, especially history

and tradition, for “his understanding was as the understanding of

the learned;” and, like all educated Arabs of his day, he was a

connoisseur of poetry which at times he improvised with success.

[FN#259] He made the pilgrimage every alternate year and

sometimes on foot, while “his military expeditions almost

equalled his pilgrimages.” Day after day during his Caliphate he

prayed a hundred “bows,” never neglecting them, save for some

especial reason, till his death; and he used to give from his

privy purse alms to the extent of a hundred dirhams per diem. He

delighted in panegyry and liberally rewarded its experts, one of

whom, Abd al-Sammák the Preacher, fairly said of him, “Thy

humility in thy greatness is nobler than thy greatness.” “No

Caliph,” says Al-Niftawayh, “had been so profusely liberal to

poets, lawyers and divines, although as the years advanced he

wept over his extravagance amongst other sins.” There was

vigorous manliness in his answer to the Grecian Emperor who had

sent him an insulting missive:—“In the name of Allah! From the

Commander of the Faithful Harun al-Rashid, to Nicephorus the

Roman dog. I have read thy writ, O son of a miscreant mother!

Thou shalt not hear, thou shalt see my reply.” Nor did he cease

to make the Byzantine feel the weight of his arm till he

“nakh’d”[FN#260] his camel in the imperial Court-yard; and this

was only one instance of his indomitable energy and hatred of the

Infidel. Yet, if the West is to be believed, he forgot his

fanaticism in his diplomatic dealings and courteous intercourse

with Carolus Magnus.[FN#261] Finally, his civilised and well

regulated rule contrasted as strongly with the barbarity and

turbulence of occidental Christendom, as the splendid Court and

the luxurious life of Baghdad and its carpets and hangings

devanced the quasi-savagery of London and Paris whose palatial

halls were spread with rushes.

The great Caliph ruled twenty-three years and a few months (A.H.

170–193 = A.D. 786–808); and, as his youth was chequered and his

reign was glorious, so was his end obscure.[FN#262] After a

vision foreshadowing his death,[FN#263] which happened, as

becomes a good Moslem, during a military expedition to Khorasan,

he ordered his grave to be dug and himself to be carried to it in

a covered litter: when sighting the fosse he exclaimed, “O son of

man thou art come to this!” Then he commanded himself to be set

down and a perfection of the Koran to be made over him in the

litter on the edge of the grave. He was buried (æt. forty-five)

at Sanábád, a village near Tús.

Aaron the Orthodox appears in The Nights as a headstrong and

violent autocrat, a right royal figure according to the Moslem

ideas of his day. But his career shows that he was not more

tyrannical or more sanguinary than the normal despot of the East,

or the contemporary Kings of the West: in most points, indeed, he

was far superior to the historic misrulers who have afflicted the

world from Spain to furthest China. But a single great crime, a

tragedy whose details are almost incredibly horrible, marks his

reign with the stain of infamy, with a blot of blood never to be

washed away. This tale, “full of the waters of the eye,” as

Firdausi sings, is the massacre of the Barmecides; a story which

has often been told and which cannot here be passed over in

silence. The ancient and noble Iranian house, belonging to the

“Ebná” or Arabised Persians, had long served the Ommiades till,

early in our eighth century, Khálid bin Bermek,[FN#264] the

chief, entered the service of the first Abbaside and became Wazir

and Intendant of Finance to Al-Saffah. The most remarkable and

distinguished of the family, he was in office when Al-Mansur

transferred the capital from Damascus, the headquarters of the

hated Ommiades, to Baghdad, built ad hoc. After securing the

highest character in history by his personal gifts and public

services, he was succeeded by his son and heir Yáhyá (John), a

statesman famed from early youth for prudence and profound

intelligence, liberality and nobility of soul.[FN#265] He was

charged by the Caliph Al-Mahdi with the education of his son

Harun, hence the latter was accustomed to call him father; and,

until the assassination of the fantastic tyrant Al-Hádi, who

proposed to make his own child Caliph, he had no little

difficulty in preserving the youth from death in prison. The

Orthodox, once seated firmly on the throne, appointed Yáhyá his

Grand Wazir. This great administrator had four sons, Al-Fazl,

Ja’afar, Mohammed, and Musa,[FN#266] in whose time the house of

Bermek rose to that height from which decline and fall are, in

the East, well nigh certain and immediate. Al-Fazl was a foster-brother

of Harun, an exchange of suckling infants having taken

place between the two mothers for the usual object, a tightening

of the ties of intimacy: he was a man of exceptional mind, but he

lacked the charm of temper and manner which characterised

Ja’afar.

The poets and rhetoricians have been profuse in their praises of

the cadet who appears in The Nights as an adviser of calm sound

sense, an intercessor and a peace-maker, and even more remarkable

than the rest of his family for an almost incredible magnanimity

and generosity—une générosité effrayante. Mohammed was famed

for exalted views and nobility of sentiment and Musa for bravery

and energy: of both it was justly said, “They did good and harmed

not.”[FN#267]

For ten years (not including an interval of seven) from the time

of Al-Rashid’s accession (A.D. 786) to the date of their fall,

(A.D. 803), Yahya and his sons, Al-Fazl and Ja’afar, were

virtually rulers of the great heterogeneous empire, which

extended from Mauritania to Tartary, and they did notable service

in arresting its disruption. Their downfall came sudden and

terrible like “a thunderbolt from the blue.” As the Caliph and

Ja’afar were halting in Al-’Umr (the convent) near Anbár-town on

the Euphrates, after a convivial evening spent in different

pavilions, Harun during the dead of the night called up his page

Yásir al-Rikhlah[FN#268] and bade him bring Ja’afar’s head. The

messenger found Ja’afar still carousing with the blind poet Abú

Zakkár and the Christian physician Gabriel ibn Bakhtiashú, and

was persuaded to return to the Caliph and report his death; the

Wazir adding, “An he express regret I shall owe thee my life;

and, if not, whatso Allah will be done.” Ja’afar followed to

listen and heard only the Caliph exclaim “O sucker of thy

mother’s clitoris, if thou answer me another word, I will send

thee before him!” whereupon he at once bandaged his own eyes and

received the fatal blow. Al-Asma’í, who was summoned to the

presence shortly after, recounts that when the head was brought

to Harun he gazed at it, and summoning two witnesses commanded

them to decapitate Yasir, crying, “I cannot bear to look upon the

slayer of Ja’afar!” His vengeance did not cease with the death:

he ordered the head to be gibbetted at one end and the trunk at

the other abutment of the Tigris bridge where the corpses of the

vilest malefactors used to be exposed; and, some months

afterwards, he insulted the remains by having them burned—the

last and worst indignity which can be offered to a Moslem. There

are indeed pity and terror in the difference between two such

items in the Treasury-accounts as these: “Four hundred thousand

dinars (£200,000) to a robe of honour for the Wazir Ja’afar bin

Yahya;” and, “Ten kírát, (5 shill.) to naphtha and reeds for

burning the body of Ja’afar the Barmecide.”

Meanwhile Yahya and Al-Fazl, seized by the Caliph Harun’s command

at Baghdad, were significantly cast into the prison “Habs al-Zanádikah”—of

the Guebres—and their immense wealth which, some

opine, hastened their downfall, was confiscated. According to

the historian, Al-Tabari, who, however, is not supported by all

the annalists, the whole Barmecide family, men, women, and

children, numbering over a thousand, were slaughtered with only

three exceptions; Yahya, his brother Mohammed, and his son Al-Fazl.

The Caliph’s foster-father, who lived to the age of

seventy-four, was allowed to die in jail (A.H. 805) after two

years’ imprisonment at Rukkah. Al-Fazl, after having been

tortured with two hundred blows in order to make him produce

concealed property, survived his father three years and died in

Nov. A.H. 808, some four months before his terrible foster-brother.

A pathetic tale is told of the son warming water for

the old man’s use by pressing the copper ewer to his stomach.

The motives of this terrible massacre are variously recounted,

but no sufficient explanation has yet been, or possibly ever will

be, given. The popular idea is embodied in The Nights. [FN#269]

Harun, wishing Ja’afar to be his companion even in the Harem, had

wedded him, pro formâ, to his eldest sister Abbásah, “the

loveliest woman of her day,” and brilliant in mind as in body;

but he had expressly said “I will marry thee to her, that it may

be lawful for thee to look upon her but thou shalt not touch

her.” Ja’afar bound himself by a solemn oath; but his mother

Attábah was mad enough to deceive him in his cups and the result

was a boy (Ibn Khallikan) or, according to others, twins. The

issue was sent under the charge of a confidential eunuch and a

slave-girl to Meccah for concealment; but the secret was divulged

to Zubaydah who had her own reasons for hating husband and wife

and cherished an especial grievance against Yahya.[FN#270] Thence

it soon found its way to head-quarters. Harun’s treatment of

Abbásah supports the general conviction: according to the most

credible accounts she and her child were buried alive in a pit

under the floor of her apartment.

But, possibly, Ja’afar’s perjury was only “the last straw.”

Already Al-Fazl bin Rabî’a, the deadliest enemy of the

Barmecides, had been entrusted (A.D. 786) with the Wazirate which

he kept seven years. Ja’afar had also acted generously but

imprudently in abetting the escape of Yahya bin Abdillah, Sayyid

and Alide, for whom the Caliph had commanded confinement in a

close dark dungeon: when charged with disobedience the Wazir had

made full confession and Harun had (they say) exclaimed, “Thou

hast done well!” but was heard to mutter, “Allah slay me an I

slay thee not.”[FN#271] The great house seems at times to have

abused its powers by being too peremptory with Harun and

Zubaydah, especially in money matters;[FN#272] and its very

greatness would have created for it many and powerful enemies and

detractors who plied the Caliph with anonymous verse and prose.

Nor was it forgotten that, before the spread of Al-Islam, they

had presided over the Naubehár or Pyræthrum of Balkh; and Harun

is said to have remarked anent Yahya, “The zeal for magianism,

rooted in his heart, induces him to save all the monuments

connected with his faith.”[FN#273] Hence the charge that they

were “Zanádakah,” a term properly applied to those who study the

Zend scripture, but popularly meaning Mundanists, Positivists,

Reprobates, Atheists; and it may be noted that, immediately after

al-Rashid’s death, violent religious troubles broke out in

Baghdad. Ibn Khallikan[FN#274] quotes Sa’id ibn Salim, a

well-known grammarian and traditionist who philosophically

remarked, “Of a truth the Barmecides did nothing to deserve Al-Rashid’s

severity, but the day (of their power and prosperity)

had been long and whatso endureth long waxeth longsome.” Fakhr

al-Din says (p. 27), “On attribue encore leur ruine aux manières

fières et orgueilleuses de Djafar (Ja’afar) et de Fadhl (Al-Fazl

), manières que les rois ne sauroient supporter.” According

to Ibn Badrún, the poet, when the Caliph’s sister

’Olayyah[FN#275] asked him, “O my lord, I have not seen thee

enjoy one happy day since putting Ja’afar to death: wherefore

didst thou slay him?” he answered, “My dear life, an I thought

that my shirt knew the reason I would rend it in pieces!” I

therefore hold with Al Mas’udi,

“As regards the intimate cause (of the catastrophe) it is unknown

and Allah is Omniscient.”

Aaron the Orthodox appears sincerely to have repented his

enormous crime. From that date he never enjoyed refreshing

sleep: he would have given his whole realm to recall Ja’afar to

life; and, if any spoke slightingly of the Barmecides in his

presence, he would exclaim, “God damn your fathers! Cease to

blame them or fill the void they have left.” And he had ample

reason to mourn the loss. After the extermination of the wise

and enlightened family, the affairs of the Caliphate never

prospered: Fazl bin Rabí’a, though a man of intelligence and

devoted to letters, proved a poor substitute for Yahya and

Ja’afar; and the Caliph is reported to have applied to him the

couplet:—

No sire to your sire,[FN#276] I bid you spare * Your calumnies or

their place replace.

His unwise elevation of his two rival sons filled him with fear

of poison, and, lastly, the violence and recklessness of the

popular mourning for the Barmecides,[FN#277] whose echo has not

yet died away, must have added poignancy to his tardy penitence.

The crime still “sticks fiery off” from the rest of Harun’s

career: it stands out in ghastly prominence as one of the most

terrible tragedies recorded by history, and its horrible details

make men write passionately on the subject to this our

day.[FN#278]

As of Harun so of Zubaydah it may be said that she was far

superior in most things to contemporary royalties, and she was

not worse at her worst than the normal despot-queen of the

Morning-land. We must not take seriously the tales of her

jealousy in The Nights, which mostly end in her selling off or

burying alive her rivals; but, even were all true, she acted

after the recognised fashion of her exalted sisterhood. The

secret history of Cairo, during the last generation, tells of

many a viceregal dame who committed all the crimes, without any

of the virtues which characterised Harun’s cousin-spouse. And

the difference between the manners of the Caliphate and the

“respectability” of the nineteenth century may be measured by the

Tale called “Al-Maamun and Zubaydah.”[FN#279] The lady, having

won a game of forfeits from her husband, and being vexed with him

for imposing unseemly conditions when he had been the winner,

condemned him to lie with the foulest and filthiest kitchen-wench

in the palace; and thus was begotten the Caliph who succeeded and

destroyed her son.

Zubaydah was the grand-daughter of the second Abbaside Al-Mansur,

by his son Ja’afar whom The Nights persistently term Al-Kasim:

her name was Amat al-Azíz or Handmaid of the Almighty; her

cognomen was Umm Ja’afar as her husband’s was Abú Ja’afar; and

her popular name “Creamkin” derives from Zubdah,[FN#280] cream or

fresh butter, on account of her plumpness and freshness. She was

as majestic and munificent as her husband; and the hum of prayer

was never hushed in her palace. Al-Mas’udi[FN#281] makes a

historian say to the dangerous Caliph Al-Káhir, “The nobleness

and generosity of this Princess, in serious matters as in her

diversions, place her in the highest rank”; and he proceeds to

give ample proof. Al-Siyuti relates how she once filled a poet’s

mouth with jewels which he sold for twenty thousand dinars. Ibn

Khallikan (i. 523) affirms of her, “Her charity was ample, her

conduct virtuous, and the history of her pilgrimage to Meccah and

of what she undertook to execute on the way is so well-known that

it were useless to repeat it.” I have noted (Pilgrimage iii. 2)

how the Darb al-Sharki or Eastern road from Meccah to Al-Medinah

was due to the piety of Zubaydah who dug wells from Baghdad to

the Prophet’s burial place and built not only cisterns and

caravanserais, but even a wall to direct pilgrims over the

shifting sands. She also supplied Meccah, which suffered

severely from want of water, with the chief requisite for public

hygiene by connecting it, through levelled hills and hewn rocks,

with the Ayn al-Mushásh in the Arafat subrange; and the fine

aqueduct, some ten miles long, was erected at a cost of 1,700,000

to 2,000,000 of gold pieces. [FN#282] We cannot wonder that her

name is still famous among the Badawin and the “Sons of the Holy

Cities.” She died at Baghdad, after a protracted widowhood, in

A.H. 216 and her tomb, which still exists, was long visited by

the friends and dependents who mourned the loss of a devout and

most liberal woman.

The reader will bear with me while I run through the tales and

add a few remarks to the notices given in the notes: the glance

must necessarily be brief, however extensive be the theme. The

admirable introduction follows, in all the texts and MSS. known

to me, the same main lines but differs greatly in minor details

as will be seen by comparing Mr. Payne’s translation with Lane’s

and mine. In the Tale of the Sage Dúbán appears the speaking

head which is found in the Kamil, in Mirkhond and in the Kitáb

al-Uyún: M. C. Barbier de Meynard (v. 503) traces it back to an

abbreviated text of Al-Mas’udi. I would especially recommend to

students The Porter and the Three Ladies of Baghdad (i. 82),

whose mighty orgie ends so innocently in general marriage. Lane

(iii. 746) blames it “because it represents Arab ladies as acting

like Arab courtesans”; but he must have known that during his day

the indecent frolic was quite possible in some of the highest

circles of his beloved Cairo. To judge by the style and changes

of person, some of the most “archaic” expressions suggest the

hand of the Ráwi or professional tale-teller; yet as they are in

all the texts they cannot be omitted in a loyal translation. The

following story of The Three Apples perfectly justifies my notes

concerning which certain carpers complain. What Englishman would

be jealous enough to kill his cousin-wife because a blackamoor in

the streets boasted of her favours? But after reading what is

annotated in vol. i. 6, and purposely placed there to give the

key-note of the book, he will understand the reasonable nature of

the suspicion; and I may add that the same cause has commended

these “skunks of the human race” to debauched women in England.

The next tale, sometimes called “The Two Wazírs,” is notable for

its regular and genuine drama-intrigue which, however, appears

still more elaborate and perfected in other pieces. The richness

of this Oriental plot-invention contrasts strongly with all

European literatures except the Spaniard’s, whose taste for the

theatre determined his direction, and the Italian, which in

Boccaccio’s day had borrowed freely through Sicily from the East.

And the remarkable deficiency lasted till the romantic movement

dawned in France, when Victor Hugo and Alexander Dumas showed

their marvellous powers of faultless fancy, boundless imagination

and scenic luxuriance, “raising French Poetry from the dead and

not mortally wounding French prose.”[FN#283] The Two Wazirs is

followed by the gem of the volume, The Adventure of the

Hunchback-jester (i. 225), also containing an admirable surprise

and a fine development of character, while its “wild but natural

simplicity” and its humour are so abounding that it has echoed

through the world to the farthest West. It gave to Addison the

Story of Alnaschar[FN#284] and to Europe the term “Barmecide

Feast,” from the “Tale of Shacabac” (vol. i. 343). The

adventures of the corpse were known in Europe long before Galland

as shown by three fabliaux in Barbazan. I have noticed that the

Barber’s Tale of himself (i. 317) is historical and I may add

that it is told in detail by Al-Mas’udi (chapt. cxiv).

Follows the tale of Núr al-Dín Alí, and what Galland miscalls

“The Fair Persian,” a brightly written historiette with not a few

touches of true humour. Noteworthy are the Slaver’s address

(vol. ii. 15), the fine description of the Baghdad garden (vol.

ii. 21–24), the drinking-party (vol. ii. 25), the Caliph’s frolic

(vol. ii. 31–37) and the happy end of the hero’s misfortunes

(vol. ii. 44) Its brightness is tempered by the gloomy tone of

the tale which succeeds, and which has variants in the Bagh o

Bahar, a Hindustani versionof the Persian “Tale of the Four

Darwayshes;” and in the Turkish Kirk Vezir or “Book of the Forty

Vezirs.” Its dismal péripéties are relieved only by the witty

indecency of Eunuch Bukhayt and the admirable humour of Eunuch

Kafur, whose “half lie” is known throughout the East. Here also

the lover’s agonies are piled upon him for the purpose of

unpiling at last: the Oriental tale-teller knows by experience

that, as a rule, doleful endings “don’t pay.”

The next is the long romance of chivalry, “King Omar bin al-Nu’man

” etc., which occupies an eighth of the whole repertory and

the best part of two volumes. Mr. Lane omits it because “obscene

and tedious,” showing the license with which he translated; and

he was set right by a learned reviewer,[FN#285] who truly

declared that “the omission of half-a-dozen passages out of four

hundred pages would fit it for printing in any language[FN#286]

and the charge of tediousness could hardly have been applied more

unhappily.” The tale is interesting as a picture of mediæval

Arab chivalry and has many other notable points; for instance,

the lines (iii. 86) beginning “Allah holds the kingship!” are a

lesson to the manichæanism of Christian Europe. It relates the

doings of three royal generations and has all the characteristics

of Eastern art: it is a phantasmagoria of Holy Places, palaces

and Harems; convents, castles and caverns, here restful with

gentle landscapes (ii. 240) and there bristling with furious

battle-pictures (ii. 117, 221–8, 249) and tales of princely

prowess and knightly derring-do. The characters stand out well.

King Nu’man is an old lecher who deserves his death; the ancient

Dame Zát al-Dawáhi merits her title Lady of Calamities (to her

foes); Princess Abrizah appears as a charming Amazon, doomed to a

miserable and pathetic end; Zau al-Makán is a wise and pious

royalty; Nuzhat al-Zamán, though a longsome talker, is a model

sister; the Wazir Dandán, a sage and sagacious counsellor,

contrasts with the Chamberlain, an ambitious miscreant; Kánmakán

is the typical Arab knight, gentle and brave:—

Now managing the mouthes of stubborne steedes

The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night — Volume 10 (of 10)(#3444) · 第 10 / 40 段