The Spread of Islam
_Swift and resistless through the land he passed,
Like that bold Greek who did the East subdue,
And made to battles such heroic haste
As if on wings of victory he flew._
DRYDEN: _On Cromwell._
Of those sovereigns visited by the envoys of Mohammed and bidden to
give their allegiance to the Prophet, was Khosru, King of Persia, who,
in utter disdain of such a demand, tore the letter to pieces.
"Beware, O king," said the messenger as he departed, "for in the days
to come your kingdom shall be treated as you have treated the written
words of the Prophet."
The idea of an unknown sect from an Arabian desert attacking the power
of the "Great King" seemed preposterous to those who heard, for Persia
was then at the height of one of her spasmodic periods of success.
Some eighteen years before the envoy of Islam appeared at his court the
king had covered his empire with glory by the capture of Jerusalem (611
A.D.), then in the hands of Rome, and inhabited chiefly by Christians.
On this occasion the Jews throughout Palestine rose on his behalf with
the object of exterminating the Christians, ninety {35} thousand of
whom are said to have perished. "Every Christian church was
demolished, that of the Holy Sepulchre was the object of furious
hatred; the stately building of Helena and Constantine was abandoned to
the flames; the devout offerings of three hundred years were rifled in
one sacrilegious day."[1] Fortunately for future ages, the great
church, built by the pious Helena over the place where the body of
Christ had lain, was not entirely destroyed; but--a worse blow still to
the Christian inhabitants--the True Cross was taken from its sacred
hiding place and carried Into Persia.
[1] Milman.
Egypt had also fallen into the hands of the conquering Khosru, when at
length Heraclius, the Emperor of the East, "slumbering on the throne of
Constantinople," awoke, drove the Persian from Syria and Egypt,
restored the ruined churches of Jerusalem, and brought back in triumph
the Cross to the Holy City.
The preceding year had seen the fall of Khosru, and peace concluded
between the Empires of Rome and Persia; eight years later Jerusalem was
in the hands of the Saracens (637 A.D.).
The years intervening between this event and the death of Mohammed had
been utilised by the sons of Islam in making a series of conquests,
which seem well-nigh miraculous. We can indeed only account for them
by the fact that the contest was between a race of fighters, stirred by
their new faith to a perfect frenzy of enthusiasm, and the remnants of
Empires far gone in decay.
Yet, even so, there was no light task. Chaldaea and Babylonia, perhaps
the most ancient empires in the world, fell before the sword of Islam
only after a long {36} and terrible struggle. The bloodshed on both
sides was appalling, but the ever-increasing numbers of Moslems were
always providing fresh recruits, eager to win victory or Paradise.
Even when they were less numerous than their enemies, they more than
made up for it by the determination and obstinacy of their attacks.
Emboldened by this success, the Saracens flung themselves upon the
Empire of Persia. Three months after the great battle of Cadesia, the
"white palace" of Khosru was in their hands, and the remnants of the
Persian hosts had fled before them.
The story of Harmozan, the Prince of Susa, Persia's most important
city, shows the craft of the native Persian, and the binding nature of
the Islamite promise. Brought before Omar the Caliph of Islam,
stripped of his gorgeous robes, bullied and insulted, Harmozan
complained of intolerable thirst. They brought him a cup of water,
which he eyed askance.
"What ails the man?" cried Omar. "I fear, my lord, lest I be killed
even as I drink," confessed Harmozan. "Be of good courage," replied
the Caliph, "your life is safe till you have drunk the water."
Instantly the crafty ruler dashed the cup to the ground, and when Omar
would have avenged his deceit, the bystanders promptly reminded him
that the word of a Moslem is as sacred as an oath. Harmozan was
liberated, and became speedily a convert to a religion which taught so
well how to "keep faith."
While these conquests were being made in the East, the forces of Omar
had been making equal progress in the West.
Palestine was their destination, and Damascus, that {37} famous city,
the centre of immense trade, their first prey.
From thence they advanced upon Jerusalem, taking town after town on the
way. A siege of four months convinced the Christian Patriarch that it
was hopeless to hold out longer. All he now demanded was that Omar
himself should come to take possession, on the ground that it was
written in the sacred book of the Jews that the city should one day
fall into the hands of a king having but four letters in his name.
In Arabia the word "Omar" fulfilled this condition, and forthwith the
Caliph arrived, in the plainest garb, riding upon a camel, and bearing
with him his pouch of grain and dates and his skin of water.
To meet him came the chieftains he had sent out two years before, clad
in the rich cloths of Damascus.
"Is it thus ye come before me?" cried Omar in disgust, throwing a
handful of sand in their faces. Dismayed for a moment, they
recollected themselves, and, opening their gorgeous robes, revealed the
armour beneath.
"Enough!" cried the Caliph. "Go forward!"
The terms arranged were by no means harsh, though clearly marking the
inferior position of the conquered Christians. No crosses were to be
shown, nor church bells rung in the street. A Christian must rise and
stand in the presence of a Moslem. The latter might practise his
religion and use his church undisturbed; but the great mosque of Omar
was to rise over the ruined altar of the temple and over the sacred
stone upon which the patriarch Jacob had once rested his head.
Strange as it may seem, the two races settled down side by side in
peace and friendship. Both acknowledged {38} the holiness of the
Israelites of old, whose bones lay buried in the neighbourhood of the
Holy City. Within its walls the Mohammedans treated with respect, if
not with reverence, the worship of Him whom they regarded as a prophet
not far inferior to their own. Thus four centuries rolled quietly
away, until the old distinction between conquerors and conquered had
almost ceased to exist, and pilgrims from all parts of Christendom were
welcomed by Christian and Moslem alike.
Meantime the forces of Islam threatened to overrun the greater part of
the known world. The Saracens "rode masters of the sea," throughout
the Greek archipelago; their sway was recognised towards the East up to
the sources of the Euphrates and Tigris, to the North they had spread
over Asia Minor deep to the very walls of Constantinople, the seat of
the Eastern Empire.
Egypt was conquered by Amrou, one of the most famous generals of the
Caliph Omar. With Egypt fell Alexandria, a city renowned for its
learning, and especially for its magnificent library, through the
civilised world.
"I have taken," Amrou told the Caliph, "the great city of the West. It
contains four thousand palaces, four thousand baths, four hundred
theatres or places of amusement, twelve thousand shops for the sale of
vegetable food, and forty thousand tributary Jews. The town has been
subdued by force of arms, without treaty or capitulation, and the
Moslems are impatient to seize the fruits of their victory."
Fortunately for the inhabitants, who were the last to be referred to,
Omar would not allow slaughter or pillage. But if the tale be true,
the fate of the famous library of Alexandria shows very clearly the
narrow limits of Saracen culture in those days.
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A learned scholar of the city, who had won the liking and respect of
Amrou, entreated that the library might be given over to him, as the
Moslems would have no use for it. The question was referred to Omar,
who replied, "If these writings of the Greeks agree with the Book of
God, they are useless, and need not be preserved; if they disagree,
they are harmful, and should be destroyed." And forthwith the priceless
volumes were committed to the flames.
Six years later (647 A.D.) the warrior Othman accomplished the conquest
of Northern Africa; and a little more than sixty years later, a small
expedition of Saracens crossed the Straits of Gibraltar and set foot in
Spain. Their leader, Tarif, gave his name to the place (Tarifa) where
he landed, and likewise to the "tariff" or "duty" levied upon the
vessels which passed through the straits.
At Xeres they were met by Roderick, the "last of the Goths," who was
killed, and whose army was put to flight by the forces of the Saracens,
or Moors as they were called after their settlement in Mauretania or
Morocco, just across the straits. But the conquest of Spain by the
Moors, teeming as it is with romantic interest, is too long to be
related here, and we must retrace our steps to the East.
By the end of the first half of the eighth century, and only a little
over a hundred years after Mohammed's death, the Saracens had brought
their career of conquest almost to an end, and were firmly established
as "the most potent and absolute monarchs of the globe." One
determined attempt, indeed, was made during the latter half of the
century to take Constantinople, the capital of the Eastern Empire. A
battle was fought beneath the {40} walls of the city, and the Saracens
were victorious; but they were prevailed upon to retire on the promise
of an immense yearly tribute.
The beginning of the ninth century saw the Eastern and Western worlds
ruled respectively by those two famous monarchs of history and romance,
Haroun-Al-Raschid and Charlemagne. The first is familiar to most of us
through the enchanting pages of the _Arabian Nights_, but history
unfortunately gives us a darker portrait of the renowned Caliph,
painting him as a jealous and selfish tyrant. He was, however, a
patron of literature and of art, which distinguishes him from his
predecessors, who were merely warriors. He could fight, too, on
occasion, both with tongue and sword. A new Emperor of Constantinople
chose to refuse the tribute promised by the late Empress in these words.
"Nicephorus, King of the Greeks, to Haroun, King of the Arabs.
"The late Queen was too humble; she submitted to pay tribute to you,
though she should have exacted twice as much from you. A man speaks to
you now; therefore send back the tribute you have received, otherwise
the sword shall be umpire between me and thee."
The Caliph replied in unmistakable terms--
"In the name of Allah, most merciful!"
"Haroun-al-Raschid, Commander of the Faithful, to Nicephorus, the Roman
dog.
"I have read thy letter, O thou son of an unbelieving mother! Thou
shalt not hear, but thou shalt see my reply."
[Illustration: _Pilgrims of the XIth Century journeying to the Holy
City_]
Forthwith a huge force crossed over into the domains {43} of
Nicephorus, and only the promise to pay the tribute twice, instead of
once a year, induced the Caliph to withdraw his forces.
To us, however, the most interesting incident of his reign is the link
that was forged between East and West when the great Haroun courteously
received the ambassadors of Charlemagne at his court in Bagdad. He may
have been prompted only by a desire to obtain the Great Emperor of the
West as his ally against the Emperor of the Eastern Empire, but there
seems little doubt that Haroun actually sent to Charlemagne the keys of
the Holy Places at Jerusalem, declaring that the city belonged first
and foremost to the Champion of Christendom.
Charlemagne did not hesitate to avail himself of this generosity.
Fifty years later, a monk of Brittany, named Bernard the Wise,
described how he was lodged at the hospital of the most glorious
Emperor Charles, wherein are received all pilgrims who speak Latin, and
who come for a religious reason. There, too, he discovered the fine
library founded by Charlemagne close by, in the Church of the Blessed
Virgin. He speaks in high terms of the relations existing between
Christians and Moslems, both at Jerusalem and in Egypt.
"The Christians and Pagans," he says, "have there such peace between
them that, if I should go a journey, and in this journey my camel or
ass which carried my burdens should die, and I should leave everything
there without a guard, and go to the next town to get another, on my
return I should find all my property untouched."
Thus, in peace and security, the long stream of pilgrims from the West
flowed towards the Holy City until the beginning of the eleventh
century. Then came, {44} quite suddenly, a terrible interval of
persecution. The reigning Caliph, El Hakim, became, as he grew up, a
fierce and fanatical madman. Inflamed, it is said, by the report of
the Jews, who warned him that unless he put a stop to the crowds of
pilgrims he would soon find himself without a kingdom, he instituted a
fierce persecution of the Christians, and commanded that the Church of
the Holy Sepulchre should be destroyed. Another furious outburst was
directed against the Jews themselves, as well as the Christians. Many
were killed, and many of their churches laid low.
Just before his end a fit of remorse seized El Hakim, and he commanded
that the churches of the Christians should be restored. Before he
could again change his mind, he was assassinated by command of his own
sister, as being a dangerous madman.
A brief interval of toleration followed, which was but the lull before
the storm; for an outbreak of terrible persecution was to come, an
outbreak which was the immediate cause of the First Crusade.
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