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OHIV.  OP  CALIFORNIA 
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LIFE 


OF 


OLIVER    GOLDSMITH 


BY 

WASHINGTON  IRVING 


NEW  YORK 
AMERICAN  PUBLISHERS  CORPORATION 

3 IO-318    SIXTH    AVENUE. 


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PREFACE. 


In  the  course  of  a  revised  edition  of  my  works  I  have  come 
to  a  biographical  sketch  of  Goldsmith,  published  several  years 
since.  It  was  written  hastily,  as  introductory  to  a  selection 
from  Ms  writings ;  and,  though  the  facts  contained  in  it  were 
collected  from  various  sources,  I  was  chiefly  indebted  for  them 
to  the  voluminous  work  of  Mr.  James  Prior,  who  had  collected 
and  collated  the  most  minute  particulars  of  the  poet's  history 
with  unwearied  research  and  scrupulous  fidelity ;  but  had  ren- 
dered them,  as  I  thought,  in  a  form  too  cumbrous  and  overlaid 
with  details  and  disquisitions,  and  matters  uninteresting  to  the 
general  reader. 

When  I  was  about  of  late  to  revise  my  biographical  sketch, 
preparatory  to  republication,  a  volume  was  put  into  my  hands, 
recently  given  to  the  public  by  Mr.  John  Forster,  of  the  Inner 
Temple,  who,  likewise  availing  himself  of  the  labors  of  the  in- 
defatigable Prior,  and  of  a  few  new  lights  since  evolved,  has 
produced  a  biography  of  the  poet,  executed  with  a  spirit,  a 
feeling,  a  grace  and  an  eloquence,  that  leave  nothing  to  be  de- 
sired. Indeed  it  would  have  been  presumption  in  me  to  under- 
take the  subject  after  it  had  been  thus  felicitously  treated,  did 
I  not  stand  committed  by  my  previous  sketch.  That  sketch 
now  appeared  too  meagre  and  insufficient  to  satisfy  public  de- 
mand ;  yet  it  had  to  take  its  place  in  the  revised  series  of  my 
works  unless  something  more  satisfactory  could  be  substituted. 
Under  these  circmnstances  I  have  again  taken  up  the  subject, 
and  gone  into  it  with  more  fulness  than  formerly,  omitting 
none  of  the  facts  which  I  considered  illustrative  of  the  life  and 
character  of  the  poet,  and  giving  them  in  as  graphic  a  style  as 
I  could  command.  Still  the  hurried  manner  in  which  I  have 
had  to  do  this  amidst  the  pressure  of  other  claims  on  my  atten- 
tion, and  with  the  press  dogging  at  my  heels,  has  prevented 
me  from  giving  some  parts  of  the  subject  the  thorough  han- 
dling I  could  have  wished.     Those  who  would  like  to  see  it 


4  PREFA  CE. 

treated  still  more  at  large,  with  the  addition  of  critical  disqui- 
sitions and  the  advantage  of  collateral  facts,  would  do  well  to 
refer  themselves  to  Mr.  Prior's  circumstantial  volumes,  or  to 
the  elegant  and  discursive  pages  of  Mr.  Forster. 

For  my  own  part,  I  can  only  regret  my  short-comings  in 
what  to  me  is  a  labor  of  love ;  for  it  is  a  tribute  of  gratitude  to 
the  memory  of  an  author  whose  writings  were  the  delight  of 
my  childhood,  and  have  been  a  source  of  enjoyment  to  me 
throughout  life ;  and  to  whom,  of  all  others,  I  may  address  the 
beautiful  apostrophe  of  Dante  to  Virgil : 

i 

Tu  se'  lo  mio  maestro,  e  '1  mio  autore: 
Tu  se'  solo  colui,  da  cu'  io  tolsi 
Lo  bello  stile,  che  m'  ha  fato  onore. 

W.  I. 

SUNNYSIDK,  Aug.  1,  1849. 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

Preface  , 3 

CHAPTER  I. 

Birth  and  parentage. — Characteristics  of  the  Goldsmith  race. — Poetical  birth- 
place.—Goblin  house. — Scenes  of  boyhood.—  Lissoy. — Picture  of  a  country  par- 
son.— Goldsmith's  schoolmistress.— Byrne,  the  village  schoolmaster.  —  Gold- 
smith's hornpipe  and  epigram.— Uncle  Contarine.— School  studies  and  school 
sports.— Mistakes  of  a  night 11 

CHAPTER  H. 

Improvident  marriages  in  the  Goldsmith  family. — Goldsmith  at  the  University. 
— Situation  of  a  sizer. — Tyranny  of  Wilder,  the  tutor. — Pecuniary  straits. — 
Street  ballads. — College  riots. — Gallows  Walsh.— College  prize.— A  dance  inter- 
rupted      20 

CHAPTER  HI. 

Goldsmith  rejected  by  the  bishop.— Second  sally  to  see  the  world.— Takes  pas- 
sage for  America.— Ship  sails  without  him.— Return  on  Fiddle-back. — A  hos- 
pitable friend. — The  counsellor 30 

CHAPTER  TV. 

Sallies  forth  as  a  law  student. — Stumbles  at  the  outset. — Cousin  Jane  and  the 
valentine. — A  family  oracle.— Sallies  forth  as  a  student  of  medicine.— Hocus- 
pocus  of  a  boarding-house.— Transformations  of  a  leg  of  mutton.— The  mock 
ghost. — Sketches  of  Scotland.— Trials  of  Toryism. — A  poet's  purse  for  a  Conti- 
nental tour. , 35 

CHAPTER  V. 

The  agreeable  fellow-passengers. — Risks  from  friends  picked  up  by  the  wayside. 
— Sketches  of  Holland  and  the  Dutch. — Shifts  while  a  poor  student  at  Leyden. 
—The  tulip  speculation. — The  provident  flute. — Sojourn  at  Paris. — Sketch  of 
Voltaire.— Travelling  shifts  of  a  philosophic  vagabond 44 


6  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

PAGE 

Lauding  in  England.  —Shifts  of  a  man  without  money.— The  pestle  and  mortar. 
— Theatricals  in  a  barn.— Launch  upon  London.— A  city  night  scene.— Strug- 
gles with  penury. —  Miseries  of  a  tutor. — A  doctor  in  the  suburb. —  Poor 
practice  and  second-hand  finery. — A  tragedy  in  embryo.— Project  of  the 
written  mountains  53 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Life  of  a  pedagogue.— Kindness  to  schoolboys — pertness  in  return. — Expensive 
charities. — The  Griffiths  and  the  "  Monthly  Review." — Toils  of  a  literary  hack. 
— RuDture  with  the  Griffiths 57 

CHAPTER  VIH. 

Newbery,  of  picture-book  memory. — How  to  keep  up  appearances. — Miseries 
of  authorship. — A  poor  relation. — Letter  to  Hodson  60 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Hackney  authorship.— Thoughts  of  literary  suicide.— Return  to  Peckham. — 
Oriental  projects. — Literary  enterprise  to  raise  funds. — Letter  to  Edward 
Wells— to  Robert  Bryan  ton.— Death  of  Uncle  Contarine. — Letter  to  Cousin 
Jane 05 

CHAPTER  X. 

Oriental  appointment— and  disappointment.— Examination  at  the  College  of 
Surgeons. — How  to  procure  a  suit  of  clothes. — Fresh  disappointment. — A  tale 
of  distress.— The  suit  as  clothes  in  pawn. — Punishment  for  doing  an  act  of 
charity.— Gayeties  of  Green-Arbor  Court.— Letter  to  his  brother. — Life  of  Vol- 
taire.— Scroggins,  an  attempt  at  mock  heroic  poetry 72 

CHAPTER  XI. 

Publication  of  "The  Inquiry."— Attacked  by  Griffith's  Review.— Kenriek,  the 
literary  Ishmaelite. — Periodical  literature. — Goldsmitn"s  essays. — Garrick  as  a 
manager.—  Smollett  and  his  schemes.— Change  of  lodgings. — The  Robin  Hood 
Club 83 

CHAPTER  XII. 

New  lodgings. — Visits  of  ceremony. — Hangers-on. —  Pilkington  and  the  white 
mouse. — Introduction  to  Dr.  Johnson. — Davies  and  his  bookshop. — Pretty  Mrs. 
Davies. — Foote  and  his  projects.— Criticism  of  the  cudgel 88 

CHAPTER  XHI. 

Oriental  projects.— Literary  jobs  —The  Cherokee  chiefs.— Merry  Islington  and 
the  White  Conduit  House. — Letters  on  the  History  of  England.— James  Bos- 
well.  —Dinner  of  Davies.— Anecdotes  of  Johnson  and  Goldsmith 93 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Hogarth  a  visitor  at  Islington — his  character. — Street  studies.— Sympathies  be- 
tween authors  and  painters. — Sir  Joshua  Reynolds — his  character — his  dinners. 
—The  Literary  Club — its  members. — Johnson's  revels  with  Lanky  and  Beau. — 
Goldsmith  at  the  club 9J 


CONTENTS.  7 

CHAPTER  XV. 

PAGK 

Johnson  a  monitor  to  Goldsmith— finds  him  in  distress  with  his  landlady— re- 
lieved by  the  Vicar  of  Wakefield. — The  oratorio.— Poem  of  the  Traveller.— 
The  poet  and  his  dog.— Success  of  the  poem.— Astonishment  of  the  club. — Ob- 
servations on  the  poem 106 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

New  lodgings. — Johnson's  compliment.— A  titled  patron. —The  poet  at  Northum- 
berland House. — His  independence  of  the  great. — The  Countess  of  Northum- 
berland.—Edwin  and  Angelina. — Gosford  and  Lord  Clare. — Publication  of 
Essays. — Evils  of  a  rising  reputation. — Hangers-on.— Job  writing.— Goody - 
Two-shoes. — A  medical  campaign. — Mrs.  Sidebotham Ill 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

Publication  of  the  Vicar  of  Wakefield — opinions  concerning  it — of  Dr.  Johnson 
—of  Rogers  the  poet— of  Goethe— its  merits.— Exquisite  extract.— Attack  by 
Kenrick.— Reply.— Book-building.— Project  of  a  comedy 117 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
Social  condition  of  Goldsmith— his  colloquial  contests  with  Johnson.—  Anecdotes 
and  illustrations 123 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

Social  resorts.— The  shilling  whist  club  —A  practical  joke. — The  Wednesday 
club.— The  "tun  of  man." — The  pig  butcher.— Tom  King. — Hugh  Kelly. — 
Glover  and  his  characteristics 128 

CHAPTER  XX. 

The  Great  Cham  of  literature  and  the  King  —Scene  at  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds'. — 
Goldsmith  accused  of  jealousy.— Negotiations  with  Garrick. — The  author  and 
the  actor — their  correspondence  131 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

More  hack  authorship.— Tom  Davies  and  the  Roman  History. — Canonbury  Cas- 
tle.—  Political  authorship. — Pecuniary  temptation. — Death  of  Newbery  the 
elder 136 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

Theatrical  manoeuvring.— The  comedy  of  "False  Delicacv." — First  perform- 
ance of  "The  Good-natured  Man."— Conduct  of  Johnson.— Conduct  of  the 
author. — Intermeddling  of  the  press 189 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

Burning  the  candle  at  both  ends. —  Fine  apartments. —  Fine  furniture. —  Fine 
clothes. — Fine  acquaintances. — Shoemaker's  holiday  and  jolly  pigeon  asso- 
ciates.—Peter  Barlow,  Glover,  and  the  Hampstead  hoax. — Poor  friends  among 
great  acquaintances  143 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Reduced  again  to  book-build  ins:. — Rural  retreat  at  Shoemaker's  Paradise. — 
Death  of  Henry  Goldsmith— tributes  to  his  memory  in  the  Deserted  Village. . .   1 47 


8  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

PAGE 

Dinner  at  Bickerstaff's.— Hiffernan  and  his  impecuniosity.— Kenriek's  epigram. 
Johnson's  consolation. —  Goldsmith's  toilet. —  The  bloom-colored  coat. —  New 
acquaintances.— The  Hornecks.— A  touch  of  poetry  and  passion. — The  Jesse- 
niy  Bride 149 

CHAPTER  XXTI. 

Goldsmith  in  the  Temple. — Judge  Day  and  Grattan. — Labor  and  dissipation. — 
Publication  of  the  Roman  History. — Opinions  of  it. — History  of  Animated 
Nature. — Temple  rookery. — Anecdotes  of  a  spider 154 

CHAPTER  XXVH. 

Honors  at  the  Royal  Academy. — Letter  to  his  brother  Maurice. — Family  for- 
tunes.— Jane  Contarine  and  the  miniature. — Portraits  and  engravings. — School 
associations. — Johnson  and  Goldsmith  in  Westminster  Abbey 161 

CHAPTER  XXVTH. 
Publication  of  the  Deserted  Tillage — notices  and  illustrations  of  it 165 

CHAPTER  XXLX. 

The  poet  among  the  ladies — description  of  his  person  and  manners. — Expedition 
to  Paris  with  the  Horneck  family. — The  traveller  of  twenty  and  the  traveller 
of  forty. — Hickey,  the  special  attorney. — An  unlucky  exploit 170 

CHAPTER  XXX. 
Death  of  Goldsmith's  mother. — Biography  of  Parnell. — Agreement  with  Davies 
for  the  History  of  Rome. — Life  of  Bolingbroke.— The  haunch  of  venison ITS 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 

Dinner  at  the  Royal  Academy. — The  Rowley  controversy. — Horace  Walpole's 
conduct  to  Chatterton. — Johnson  at  Redcliffe  Church. — Goldsmith's  History 
of  England. — Da vies's— criticism. — Letter  to  Bennet  Langton 181 

CHAPTER  XXXTT. 

Marriage  of  Little  Comedy. — Goldsmith  at  Barton.— Practical  jokes  at  the  ex- 
pense of  his  toilet. — Amusements  at  Barton. — Aquatic  misadventure 185 

CHAPTER  XTXTTT 

Dinner  at  General  Oglethorpe's. —  Anecdotes  of  the  general.  —  Dispute  about 
duelling. — Ghost  stories 

CHAPTER  XXXTT. 

Mr.  Joseph  Cradock. — An  author's  confidings. — An  amanuensis. — Life  at  Edge- 
ware.— Goldsmith  conjuring. — George  Colman. — The  Fantoccini 191 

CHAPTER  XXXV. 

Broken  health.— Dissipation  and  debts.— The  L-ish  Widow.— Practical  jokes.— 
Scrub. — A  misquoted  pun. — Malagrida. — Goldsmith  proved  to  be  a  fooL — Dis- 
tressed ballad-singers.— The  poet  at  Ranleigh 198 


CONTENTS.  9 

CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

PAGE 

Invitation  to  Christmas.— The  spring-velvet  coat.— The  hay -making  wig.— The 
mischances  of  loo.— The  fair  culprit.— A  dance  with  the  Jessamy  Bride 2C5 

CHAPTER  XXXVH. 

Theatrical  delays.— Negotiations  with  Colman.— Letter  to  Garrick.—  Croaking 
of  the  manager. — Naming  of  the  play.— She  Stoops  to  Conquer. —  Foote*s 
Primitive  Puppet  Show. — Piety  on  Pattens. — First  performance  of  the  come- 
dy.—Agitation  of  the  author. — Success.— Colman  squibbed  out  of  town 209 

CHAPTER  XXXVHL 
A  newspaper  attack.— The  Evans  affray.— Johnson's  comment 217 

CHAPTER  XTXTX 

Boswell  in  Holy- Week.— Dinner  at  Oglethorpe's.— Dinner  at  Paoli's.— The  policy 
of  truth  —Goldsmith  affects  independence  of  royalty.—  Paoli's  compliment.— 
Johnson's  eulogium  on  the  fiddle. — Question  about  suicide.— Boswell's  subser- 
viency    "1 

CHAPTER  XL. 


Changes  in  the  Literary  Club.— Johnson's  objection  to  Garrick.— Election  of 


.-vv- 


Boswell SW 

CHAPTER  XLI. 

Dinner  at  Dilly's.— Conversations  on  natural  history.— Intermeddling  of  Boswell. 
— Dispute  about  toleration. — Johnson's  rebuff  to  Goldsmith  —  his  apology. — 
Man-worship.— Doctors  Major  and  Minor.— A  farewell  visit 230 

CHAPTER  XTJT. 

Project  of  a  Dictionary  of  Arts  and  Sciences.—  Disappointment.—  Negb'gent 
Authorship.— Application  for  a  pension.— Beattie's  Essay  on  Truth.—  Public 
adulation. — A  high-minded  rebuke 235 

CHAPTER  XLJJL 

Toil  without  hope.— The  poet  in  the  green-room— in  the  flower  garden-  at  Vaux- 
hall— dissipation  without  gayety.—  Cradock  in  town— friendly  sympathy— a 
parting  scene— an  invitation  to  pleasure 239 

CHAPTER  XLTV. 

A  return  to  drudgery— forced  gayety— retreat  to  the  country.— The  poem  of  Re- 
taliation.—Portrait  of  Garrick— of  Goldsmith— of  Reynolds— Illness  of  the 
poet— his  death.— Grief  of  his  friends.— A  last  word  respecting  the  Jessamy 
Bride 243 

CHAPTER  XLV. 
The  funeral.— The  monument.— The  epitaph.— Concluding  reflections 250 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH: 


A  BIOGRAPHY. 


CHAPTER  I. 

BIRTH  AND  PARENTAGE— CHARACTERISTICS  OF  THE  GOLDSMITH 
RACE — POETICAL  BIRTHPLACE — GOBLIN  HOUSE— SCENES  OP  BOY- 
HOOD—LISSOY— PICTURE  OF  A  COUNTRY  PARSON — GOLDSMITH'S 
SCHOOLMISTRESS — BYRNE,  THE  VILLAGE  SCHOOLMASTER— GOLD- 
SMITH'S HORNPIPE  AND  EPIGRAM— UNCLE  CONTARINE— SCHOOL 
STUDIES  AND   SCHOOL   SPORTS — MISTAKES   OF  A  NIGHT. 

There  are  few  writers  for  whom  the  reader  feels  such  per- 
sonal kindness  as  for  Oliver  Goldsmith,  for  few  have  so  emi- 
nently possessed  the  magic  gift  of  identifying  themselves  with 
their  writings.  We  read  his  character  in  every  page,  and  grow 
into  familiar  intimacy  with  him  as  we  read.  The  artless  be- 
nevolence that  beams  throughout  his  works;  the  whimsical, 
yet  amiable  views  of  human  life  and  human  nature ;  the  un- 
forced humor,  blending  so  happily  with  good  feeling  and  good 
sense,  and  singularly  dashed  at  times  with  a  pleasing  melan- 
choly ;  even  the  very  nature  of  his  mellow,  and  flowing,  and 
softly-tinted  style,  all  seem  to  bespeak  his  moral  as  well  as  bis 
intellectual  qualities,  and  make  us  love  the  man  at  the  same 
time  that  we  admire  the  author.  While  the  productions  of 
writers  of  loftier  pretension  and  more  sounding  names  are  suf- 
fered to  moulder  on  our  shelves,  those  of  Goldsmith  are  cher- 
ished and  laid  in  our  bosoms.  We  do  not  quote  them  with  os- 
tentation, but  they  mingle  with  our  minds,  sweeten  our  tem- 
peis,  and  harmonize  our  thoughts;  they  put  us  in  good  humor 


12  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

with  ourselves  and  with  the  world,  and  in  so  doing  they  make 
us  happier  and  better  men. 

An  acquaintance  with  the  private  biography  of  Goldsmith 
lets  us  into  the  secret  of  his  gifted  pages.  We  there  discover 
them  to  be  little  more  than  transcripts  of  his  own  heart  and 
picturings  of  his  fortunes.  There  he  shows  himself  the  same 
kind,  artless,  good-humored,  excursive,  sensible,  whimsical,  in- 
telligent being  that  he  appears  in  his  writings.  Scarcely  an 
adventure  or  character  is  given  in  his  works  that  may  not  be 
traced  to  his  own  parti-colored  story.  Many  of  his  most  ludi- 
crous scenes  and  ridiculous  incidents  have  been  drawn  from 
his  own  blunders  and  mischances,  and  he  seems  really  to  have 
been  buffeted  into  almost  every  maxim  imparted  by  him  for 
the  instruction  of  his  reader. 

Oliver  Goldsmith  was  born  on  the  10th  of  November,  1728, 
at  the  hamlet  of  Pallas,  or  Pallasmore,  county  of  Longford,  in 
Ireland.  He  sprang  from  a  respectable,  but  by  no  means  a 
thrifty  stock.  Some  families  seem  to  inherit  kindliness  and 
incompetency,  and  to  hand  down  virtue  and  poverty  from 
generation  to  generation.  Such  was  the  case  with  the  Gold- 
smiths. "  They  were  always,"  according  to  their  own  accounts, 
"a  strange  family ;  they  rarely  acted  like  other  people;  their 
hearts  were  in  the  right  place,  but  their  heads  seemed  to  be 
doing  anything  but  what  they  ought." — "  They  wore  remark- 
able," says  another  statement,  "for  their  worth,  but  of  no 
cleverness  in  the  ways  of  the  world."  Oliver  Goldsmith  will  be 
found  faithfully  to  inherit  the  virtues  and  weaknesses  of  his 
race. 

His  father,  the  Eev.  Charles  Goldsmith,  with  hereditary  im- 
providence, married  when  very  young  and  very  poor,  and 
starved  along  for  several  years  on  a  small  country  curacy  and 
the  assistance  of  his  wife's  friends.  His  whole  income,  eked 
out  by  the  produce  of  some  fields  which  he  farmed,  and  of 
some  occasional  duties  performed  for  his  wife's  uncle,  the 
rector  of  an  adjoining  parish,  did  not  exceed  forty  pounds. 

"  And  passing  rich  with  forty  pounds  a  year." 

He  inhabited  an  old,  half  rustic  mansion,  that  stood  on  a 
rising  ground  in  a  rough,  lonely  part  of  the  country,  overlook- 
ing a  low  tract,  occasionally  flooded  by  the  river  Inny.  In  this 
house  Goldsmith  was  born,  and  it  was  a  birthplace  worthy  of 
a  poet;  for,  by  all  accounts,  it  was  haunted  ground.  A  tradition 
handed  down  among  the  neighboring  peasantry  states  that,  in 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  13 

after  years,  the  house,  remaining  for  some  time  untenanted, 
went  to  decay,  the  roof  fell  in,  and  it  became  so  lonely  and  for- 
lorn as  to  be  a  resort  for  the  ' '  good  people"  or  fairies,  who  in 
Ireland  are  supposed  to  delight  in  old,  crazy,  deserted  man- 
sions for  their  midnight  revels.  All  attempts  to  repair  it  were 
in  vain ;  the  fairies  battled  stoutly  to  maintain  possession.  A 
huge  misshapen  hobgoblin  used  to  bestride  the  house  every 
evening  with  an  immense  pair  of  jack-boots,  which,  in  his 
efforts  at  hard  riding,  he  would  thrust  through  the  roof,  kick- 
ing to  pieces  all  the  work  of  the  preceding  day.  The  house 
was  therefore  left  to  its  fate,  and  went  to  ruin. 

Such  is  the  popular  tradition  about  Goldsmith's  birthplace. 
About  two  years  after  his  birth  a  change  came  over  the  cir- 
cumstances of  his  father.  By  the  death  of  his  wife's  uncle  he 
succeeded  to  the  rectory  of  Kilkenny  West ;  and,  abandoning 
the  old  goblin  mansion,  he  removed  to  Lissoy,  in  the  county  of 
Westmeath,  where  he  occupied  a  farm  of  seventy  acres,  situ- 
ated on  the  skirts  of  that  pretty  little  village. 

This  was  the  scene  of  Goldsmith's  boyhood,  the  little  world 
whence  he  drew  many  of  those  pictures,  rural  and  domestic, 
whimsical  and  touching,  which  abound  throughout  his  works, 
and  which  appeal  so  eloquently  both  to  the  fancy  and  the 
heart.  Lissoy  is  confidently  cited  as  the  original  of  his  ' '  Au- 
burn" in  the  "  Deserted  Village ;"  his  father's  establishment,  a 
mixture  of  farm  and  parsonage,  furnished  hints,  it  is  said, 
for  the  rural  economy  of  the  Vicar  of  Wakefield;  and  his 
father  himself,  with  his  learned  simplicity,  his  guileless  wis- 
dom, his  amiable  piety,  and  utter  ignorance  of  the  world,  has 
been  exquisitely  portrayed  in  the  worthy  Dr.  Primrose.  Let 
us  pause  for  a  moment,  and  draw  from  Goldsmith's  writings 
one  or  two  of  those  pictures  which,  under  feigned  names,  rep- 
resent his  father  and  his  family,  and  the  happy  fireside  of  his 
childish  days. 

"My  father,"  says  the  "Man  in  Black,"  who,  in  some  re- 
spects, is  a  counterpart  of  Goldsmith  himself,  "my father,  the 
younger  son  of  a  Rood  family,  was  possessed  of  a  small  living 
iii  the  church.  His  education  was  above  bis  fortune,  and  his 
generosity  greater  than  his  education.  Poor  as  he  was,  he  had 
his  flatterers  poorer  than  himself;  for  every  dinner  he  gave 
them,  they  returned  him  an  equivalent  in  praise ;  and  this  was 
all  he  wanted.  The  same  ambition  that  actuates  a  monarch  at 
the  head  of  his  army  influenced  my  father  at  the  head  of  his 
table  -.  he  told  the  story  of  the  ivy-tree,  and  that  was  laughed 


14  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

at;  he  repeated  the  jest  of  the  two  scholars  and  one  pair  of 
breeches,  and  the  company  laughed  at  that ;  but  the  story  of 
Taffy  in  the  sedan-chair  was  sure  to  set  the  table  in  a  roar. 
Thus  his  pleasure  increased  in  proportion  to  the  pleasure  he 
gave ;  he  loved  all  the  world,  and  he  fancied  all  the  world  loved 
him. 

' '  As  his  fortune  was  but  small,  he  lived  up  to  the  very  extent 
of  it;  he  had  no  intention  of  leaving  his  children  money, 
for  that  was  dross ;  he  resolved  they  should  have  learning,  for 
learning,  he  used  to  observe,  was  better  than  silver  or  gold. 
For  this  purpose  he  undertook  to  instruct  us  himself,  and  took 
as  much  care  to  form  our  morals  as  to  improve  our  under- 
standing. We  were  told  that  universal  benevolence  was  what 
first  cemented  society;  we  were  taught  to  consider  all  the 
wants  of  mankind  as  our  own:  to  regard  the  human  face 
divine  with  affection  and  esteem;  he  wound  us  up  to  be  mere 
machines  of  pity,  and  rendered  us  incapable  of  withstanding 
the  slightest  impulse  made  either  by  real  or  fictitious  distress. 
In  a  word,  we  were  perfectly  instructed  in  the  art  of  giving 
away  thousands  before  we  were  taught  the  necessary  qualifica- 
tions of  getting  a  farthing. " 

In  the  Deserted  Village  we  have  another  picture  of  his  father 
and  his  father's  fireside : 

"  His  house  was  known  to  all  the  vagrant  train, 
He  chid  their  wanderings,  but  relieved  their  pain; 
The  long  remembered  beggar  was  his  guest, 
Whose  beard,  descending,  swept  his  aged  breast; 
The  ruin'd  spendthrift,  now  no  longer  proud, 
Claim'd  kindred  there,  and  had  his  claims  allow'd; 
The  broken  soldier,  kindly  bade  to  stay, 
Sat  by  his  Are,  and  talk'd  the  night  away; 
Wept  o'er  his  wounds,  or  tales  of  sorrow  done, 
Shoulder'd  his  crutch,  and  show'd  how  fields  were  won. 
Pleased  with  his  guests,  the  srood  man  learned  to  glow, 
And  quite  forgot  their  vices  in  their  woe; 
Careless  their  merits  or  their  faults  to  scan, 
His  pity  gave  ere  charity  began." 

The  family  of  the  worthy  pastor  consisted  of  five  sons  and 
three  daughters.  Henry,  the  eldest,  was  the  good  man's  pride 
and  hope,  and  he  tasked  his  slender  means  to  the  utmost  in 
educating  him  for  a  learned  and  distinguished  career.  Oliver 
was  the  second  son,  and  seven  years  younger  than  Henry,  who 
was  the  guide  and  protector  of  his  childhood,  and  to  whom  he 
was  most  tenderly  attached  throughout  life. 

Oliver's   education  began  when  he   was  about  three  years 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  15 

old ;  that  is  to  say,  he  was  gathered  under  the  wings  of  one  of 
those  good  old  motherly  dames,  found  in  every  village,  who 
cluck  together  the  whole  callow  brood  of  the  neighborhood,  to 
teach  them  their  letters  and  keep  them  out  of  harm's  way. 
Mistress  Elizabeth  Delap,  for  that  was  her  name,  nourished  in 
this  capacity  for  upward  of  fifty  years,  and  it  was  the  pride 
and  boast  of  her  declining  days,  when  nearly  ninety  years  of 
age,  that  she  was  the  first  that  had  put  a  book  (doubtless  a 
hornbook)  into  Goldsmith's  hands.  Apparently  he  did  not 
much  profit  by  it,  for  she  confessed  he  was  one  of  the  dullest 
boys  she  had  ever  dealt  with,  insomuch  that  she  had  some- 
times doubted  whether  it  was  possible  to  make  anything  of 
him :  a  common  case  with  imaginative  children,  who  are  apt 
to  be  beguiled  from  the  dry  abstractions  of  elementary  study 
by  the  picturings  of  the  fancy. 

At  six  years  of  age  he  passed  into  the  hands  of  the  village 
schoolmaster,  one  Thomas  (or,  as  he  was  commonly  and 
irreverently  named,  Paddy)  Byrne,  a  capital  tutor  for  a  poet. 
He  had  been  educated  for  a  pedagogue,  but  had  enlisted  in 
the  army,  served  abroad  during  the  wars  of  Queen  Anne's 
time,  and  risen  to  the  rank  of  quartermaster  of  a  regiment  in 
Spain.  At  the  return  of  peace,  having  no  longer  exercise  for 
the  sword,  he  resumed  the  ferule,  and  drilled  the  urchin 
populace  of  Lissoy.  Goldsmith  is  supposed  to  have  had  him 
and  his  school  in  view  in  the  following  sketch  in  his  Deserted 
Village : 


"  Beside  yon  straggling  fence  that  skirts  the  way, 
With  blossom'd  furze  unprofitably  gay, 
There,  in  his  noisy  mansion,  skill'd  to  rule, 
The  village  master  taught  his  little  school ; 
A  man  severe  he  was,  and  stern  to  view, 
I  knew  him  well,  and  every  truant  knew: 
Well  had  the  boding  tremblers  learned  to  trace 
The  day's  disasters  in  his  morning  face; 
Full  well  they  laugh'd  with  counterfeited  glee 
At  all  his  jokes,  for  many  a  joke  had  he; 
Full  well  the  busy  whisper  circling  round. 
Convey  d  the  dismal  tidings  when  he  frown'd; 
Yet  he  was  kind,  or,  if  severe  in  aught, 
The  love  he  bore  to  learning  was  in  fault; 
The  village  all  declared  how  much  he  knew, 
'Twas  certain  he  could  write  and  cipher  too; 
Lands  he  could  measure,  terms  and  tides  presage, 
And  e'en  the  story  ran  that  lie  could  gauge: 
In  arguing,  too,  the  parson  own'd  his  skill, 
For,  e'en  though  vanquished,  he  could  argue  still; 


16  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

While  words  of  learned  length  and  thund'ring  sound 
Amazed  the  gazing  rustics  ranged  around— 
And  still  they  gazed,  and  still  the  wonder  grew, 
That  one  small  head  could  carry  all  he  knew." 

There  are  certain  whimsical  traits  in  the  character  of 
Byrne,  not  given  in  the  foregoing  sketch.  He  was  fond  of 
talking  of  his  vagabond  wanderings  in  foreign  lands,  and  had 
brought  with  him  from  the  wars  a  world  of  campaigning 
stories,  of  which  he  was  generally  the  hero,  and  which  be 
would  deal  forth  to  his  wondering  scholars  when  he  ought  to 
have  been  teaching  them  their  lessons.  These  travellers'  tales 
had  a  powerful  effect  upon  the  vivid  imagination  of  Gold- 
smith, and  awakened  an  unconquerable  passion  for  wander- 
ing and  seeking  adventure. 

Byrne  was,  moreover,  of  a  romantic  vein,  and  exceedingly 
superstitious.  He  was  deeply  versed  in  tbe  fairy  superstitions 
which  abound  in  Ireland,  all  which  he  professed  implicitly  to 
believe.  Under  his  tuition  Goldsmith  soon  became  almost  as 
great  a  proficient  in  fairy  lore.  From  this  branch  of  good-for- 
nothing  knowledge,  his  studies,  by  an  easy  transition,  ex- 
tended to  the  histories  of  robbers,  pirates,  smugglers,  and  the 
whole  race  of  Irish  rogues  and  rapparees.  Everything,  in 
short,  that  savored  of  romance,  fable,  and  adventure  was 
congenial  to  his  poetic  mind,  and  took  instant  root  there ;  but 
the  slow  plants  of  usefid  knowledge  were  apt  to  be  overrun,  if 
not  choked,  by  the  weeds  of  his  quick  imagination. 

Another  trait  of  his  motley  preceptor,  Byrne,  was  a  disposi- 
tion to  dabble  in  poetry,  and  this  likewise  was  caught  by  his 
pupil.  Before  he  was  eight  years  old  Goldsmith  had  con- 
tracted a  habit  of  scribbling  verses  on  small  scraps  of  paper, 
which,  in  a  little  while,  he  would  throw  into  the  fire.  A  few 
of  these  sibylline  leaves,  however,  were  re3cued  from  the 
flames  and  conveyed  to  his  mother.  The  good  woman  read 
them  with  a  mother's  delight,  and  saw  at  once  that  her  son 
was  a  genius  and  a  poet.  From  that  time  she  beset  her 
husband  with  solicitations  to  give  the  boy  an  education 
suitable  to  his  talents.  The  worthy  man  was  already  strait- 
ened by  the  costs  of  instruction  of  his  eldest  son  Henry,  and 
had  intended  to  bring  his  second  son  up  to  a  trade ;  but  the 
mother  would  listen  to  no  such  thing ;  as  usual,  her  influence 
prevailed,  and  Oliver,  instead  of-  being  instructed  in  some 
humble  but  cheerful  and  gainful  handicraft,  was  devoted  to 
poverty  and  the  Muse. 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  17 

A  severe  attack  of  the  small-pox  caused  him  to  be  taken 
from  under  the  care  of  his  story-telling  preceptor,  Byrne. 
His  malady  had  nearly  proved  fatal,  and  his  face  remained 
pitted  through  life.  On  his  recovery  he  was  placed  under  the 
charge  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Griffin,  schoolmaster  of  Elphin,  in 
Eoscommon,  and  became  an  inmate  in  the  house  of  his  uncle, 
John  Goldsmith,  Esq.,  of  Bally oughter,  in  that  vicinity.  He 
now  entered  upon  studies  of  a  higher  order,  but  without 
making  any  uncommon  progress.  Still  a  careless,  easy 
facility  of  disposition,  an  amusing  eccentricity  of  manners, 
and  a  vein  of  quiet  and  peculiar  humor,  rendered  him  a 
general  favorite,  and  a  trifling  incident  soon  induced  his 
uncle's  family  to  concur  in  his  mother's  opinion  of  his  genius. 

A  number  of  young  folks  had  assembled  at  his  uncle's  to 
dance.  One  of  the  company,  named  Cummings,  played  on 
the  violin.  In  the  course  of  the  evening  Oliver  undertook  a 
hornpipe.  His  short  and  clumsy  figure,  and  his  face  pitted 
and  discolored  with  the  small-pox,  rendered  him  a  ludicrous 
figure  in  the  eyes  of  the  musician,  who  made  merry  at  his 
expense,  dubbing  him  his  little  iEsop.  Goldsmith  was  nettled 
by  the  jest,  and,  stopping  short  in  the  hornpipe,  exclaimed, 

"  Our  herald  hath  proclaimed  this  saying, 
See  yEsop  dancing,  and  his  monkey  playing." 

The  repartee  was  thought  wonderful  for  a  boy  of  nine  years 
old,  and  Oliver  became  forthwith  the  wit  and  the  bright 
genius  of  the  family.  It  was  thought  a  pity  he  should  not 
receive  the  same  advantages  with  his  elder  brother  Henry, 
who  had  been  sent  to  the  University ;  and,  as  his  father's 
circumstances  would  not  afford  it,  several  of  his  relatives, 
spurred  on  by  the  representations  of  his  mother,  agreed  to 
contribute  toward  the  expense.  The  greater  part,  however, 
was  borne  by  his  uncle,  the  Rev.  Thomas  Contarine.  This 
worthy  man  had  been  the  college  companion  of  Bishop  Berke- 
ley, and  was  possessed  of  moderate  means,  holding  the  living 
of  Carrick-on-Shannon,  He  had  married  the  sister  of  Gold- 
smith's father,  but  was  now  a  widower,  with  an  only  child,  a 
daughter,  named  Jane.  Contarine  was  a  kind-hearted  man, 
with  a  generosity  beyond  his  means.  He  took  Goldsmith  into 
favor  from  his  infancy;  Ms  house  was  open  to  him  during 
the  holidays;  his  daughter  Jane,  two  years  older  than  the 
poet,  was  his  early  playmate ;  and  uncle  Contarine  continued 


18  OLIVER   G  OLD  SMITH. 

to  the  last  one  of  his  most  active,  unwavering,  and  generous 
friends. 

Fitted  out  in  a  great  measure  by  this  considerate  relative, 
Oliver  was  now  transferred  to  schools  of  a  higher  order,  to 
prepare  him  for  the  University ;  first  to  one  at  Athlone,  kept 
by  the  Eev.  Mr.  Campbell,  and,  at  the  end  of  two  years,  to 
one  at  Edgeworthstown,  under  the  superintendence  of  the 
Rev.  Patrick  Hughes. 

Even  at  these  schools  his  proficiency  does  not  appear  to  have 
been  brilliant.  He  was  indolent  and  careless,  however,  rather 
than  dull,  and,  on  the  whole,  appears  to  have  been  well  thought 
of  by  his  teachers.  In  his  studies  he  inclined  toward  the  Latin 
poets  and  historians ;  relished  Ovid  and  Horace,  and  delighted 
in  Livy.  He  exercised  himself  with  pleasure  in  reading  and 
translating  Tacitus,  and  was  brought  to  pay  attention  to  style 
in  his  compositions  by  a  reproof  from  his  brother  Henry,  to 
whom  he  had  written  brief  and  confused  letters,  and  who  told 
him  in  reply,  that  if  he  had  but  little  to  say,  to  endeavor  to  say 
that  little  well. 

The  career  of  his  brother  Henry  at  the  University  was 
enough  to  stimulate  him  to  exertion.  He  seemed  to  be  realiz- 
ing all  his  father's  hopes,  and  was  winning  collegiate  honors 
that  the  good  man  considered  indicative  of  his  future  success 
in  life. 

In  the  meanwhile  Oliver,  if  not  distinguished  among  his 
teachers,  was  popular  among  his  schoolmates.  He  had  a 
thoughtless  generosity  extremely  captivating  to  young  hearts ; 
his  temper  was  quick  and  sensitive,  and  easily  offended ;  but 
his  anger  was  momentary,  and  it  was  impossible  for  him  to 
harbor  resentment.  He  was  the  leader  of  all  boyish  sports  and 
athletic  amusements,  especially  ball-playing,  and  he  was  fore- 
most in  all  mischievous  pranks.  Many  years  afterward,  an 
old  man,  Jack  Fitzimmons,  one  of  the  directors  of  the  sports 
and  keeper  of  the  ball-court  at  Ballymahon,  used  to  boast  of 
having  been  schoolmate  of  "Noll  Goldsmith,"  as  he  called  him, 
and  would  dwell  with  vainglory  on  one  of  their  exploits,  in 
robbing  the  orchard  of  Tirlicken,  an  old  family  residence  of 
Lord  Annaly.  The  exploit,  however,  had  nearly  involved  dis- 
astrous consequences;  for  the  crew  of  juvenile  depredators 
were  captured,  like  Shakespeare  and  his  deer-stealing  col- 
leagues, and  nothing  but  the  respectability  of  Goldsmith's 
connections  saved  him  from  the  punishment  that  would 
have  awaited  more  plebeian  delinquents. 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH   .  19 

An  amusing  incident  is  related  as  occurring  in  Goldsmith's 
last  journey  homeward  from  Edgeworthstown.  His  father's 
house  was  about  twenty  miles  distant ;  the  road  lay  through 
a  rough  country,  impassable  for  carriages.  Goldsmith  pro- 
cured a  horse  for  the  journey,  and  a  friend  furnished  him  with 
a  guinea  for  travelling  expenses.  He  was  but  a  stripling  of 
sixteen,  and  being  thus  suddenly  mounted  on  horseback,  with 
money  in  his  pocket,  it  is  no  wonder  that  his  head  was 
turned.  He  determined  to  play  the  man,  and  to  spend  his 
money  in  independent  traveller's  style.  Accordingly,  instead 
of  pushing  directly  for  home,  he  halted  for  the  night  at  the  little 
town  of  Ardagh,  and,  accosting  the  first  person  he  met,  in- 
quired, with  somewhat  of  a  consequential  air,  for  the  best 
house  in  the  place.  Unluckily,  the  person  he  had  accosted  was 
one  Kelly,  a  notorious  wag,  who  was  quartered  in  the  family 
of  one  Mr.  Featherstone,  a  gentleman  of  fortune.  Amused 
with  the  self-consequence  of  the  stripling,  and  willing  to  play 
off  a  practical  joke  at  his  expense,  he  directed  him  to  what  was 
literally  '"the  best  house  in  the  place,"  namely,  the  family 
mansion  of  Mr.  Featherstone.  Goldsmith  accordingly  rode  up 
to  what  he  supposed  to  be  an  inn,  ordered  his  horse  to  be  taken 
to  the  stable,  walked  into  the  parlor,  seated  himself  by  the  fire, 
and  demanded  what  he  could  have  for  supper.  On  ordinary 
occasions  he  was  diffident  and  even  awkward  in  his  manuers, 
but  here  he  was  "at  ease  in  his  inn,"  arid  felt  called  upon  to 
show  his  manhood  and  enact  the  experienced  traveller.  His 
person  was  by  no  means  calculated  to  play  off  his  pretensions, 
for  he  was  short  and  thick,  with  a  pock-marked  face,  and  an 
air  and  carriage  by  no  means  of  a  distinguished  cast.  The 
owner  of  the  house,  however,  soon  discovered  his  whimsical 
mistake,  and,  being  a  man  of  humor,  determined  to  indulge  it, 
especially  as  he  accidentally  learned  that  this  intruding  guest 
was  the  son  of  an  old  acquaintance. 

Accordingly  Goldsmith  was  "fooled  to  the  top  of  his  bent," 
and  permitted  to  have  full  sway  throughout  the  evening.  Never 
was  schoolboy  more  elated.  When  supper  was  served,  he 
most  condescendingly  insisted  that  the  landlord,  his  wife  and 
daughter  should  partake,  and  ordered  a  bottle  of  wine  to  crown 
the  repast  and  benefit  the  house.  His  last  flourish  was  on  going 
to  bed,  when  he  gave  especial  orders  to  have  a  hot  cake  at 
breakfast.  His  confusion  and  dismay,  on  discovering  the  next 
morning  that  he  had  been  swaggering  in  this  free  and  easy 
way  in  the  house  of  a  private  gentleman,  may  be  readily  con- 


20  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

ceived.  True  to  his  habit  of  turning  the  events  of  his  life  to 
literary  account,  we  find  this  chapter  of  ludicrous  blunders 
and  cross  purposes  dramatized  many  years  afterward  in  his 
admirable  comedy  of  "  She  Stoops  to  Conquer,  or  the  Mistakes 
of  a  Night." 


CHAPTER  II. 

IMPROVIDENT  MARRIAGES  IN  THE  GOLDSMITH  FAMILY — GOLDSMITH 
AT  THE  UNIVERSITY— SITUATION  OF  A  SIZER— TYRANNY  OF 
WILDER,  THE  TUTOR— PECUNIARY  STRAITS— STREET  BALLADS- 
COLLEGE  RIOT— GALLOWS  WALSH— COLLEGE  PRIZE — A  DANCE 
INTERRUPTED. 

While  Oliver  was  making  his  way  somewhat  negligently 
through  the  schools,  his  elder  brother  Henry  was  rejoicing  his 
father's- heart  by  his  career  at  the  University.  He  soon  dis- 
tinguished himself  at  the  examinations,  and  obtained  a  scholar- 
ship in  1743.  This  is  a  collegiate  distinction  which  serves  as  a 
stepping-stone  in  any  of  the  learned  professions,  and  which 
leads  to  advancement  in  the  University  should  the  individual 
choose  to  remain  there.  His  father  now  trusted  that  he  would 
push  forward  for  that  comfortable  provision,  a  fellowship,  and 
thence  to  higher  dignities  and  emoluments.  Henry,  however, 
had  the  improvidence  or  the  " unworldliness"  of  his  race;  re- 
turning to  the  country  during  the  succeeding  vacation,  he 
married  for  love,  relinquished,  of  course,  all  his  collegiate 
prospects  and  advantages,  set  up  a  school  in  his  father's  neigh- 
borhood, and  buried  his  talents  and  acquirements  for  the  re- 
mainder of  his  life  in  a  curacy  of  forty  pounds  a  year. 

Another  matrimonial  event  occurred  not  long  afterward  in 
the  Goldsmith  family,  to  disturb  the  equanimity  of  its  worthy 
head.  This  was  the  clandestine  marriage  of  his  daughter 
Catherine  with  a  young  gentleman  of  the  name  of  Hodson, 
who  had  been  confided  to  the  care  of  her  brother  Henry  to 
complete  his  studies.  As  the  youth  was  of  wealthy  parentage, 
it  was  thought  a  lucky  match  for  the  Goldsmith  family ;  but 
the  tidings  of  the  event  stung~the  bride's  father  to  the  soul. 
Proud  of  his  integrity,  and  jealous  of  that  good  name  which  was 
his  chief  possession,  he  saw  himself  and  his  family  subjected 


OLIVER   Cx  OLD  SMITH.  21 

to  the  degrading  suspicion  of  having  abused  a  trust  reposed  in 
them  to  promote  a  mercenary  match.  In  the  first  transports 
of  his  feelings  he  is  said  to  have  uttered  a  wish  that  his  daugh- 
ter might  never  have  a  child  to  bring  like  shame  and  sorrow 
on  her  head.  The  hasty  wish,  so  contrary  to  the  usual  benig- 
nity of  the  man,  was  recalled  and  repented  of  almost  as  soon  as 
uttered;  but  it  was  considered  baleful  in  its  effects  by  the 
superstitious  neighborhood;  for,  though  his  daughter  bore 
three  children,  they  all  died  before  her. 

A  more  effectual  measure  was  taken  by  Mr.  Goldsmith  to 
ward  off  the  apprehended  imputation,  but  one  which  imposed 
a  heavy  burden  on  his  family.  This  was  to  furnish  a  marriage 
portion  of  four  hundred  pounds,  that  his  daughter  might  not 
be  said  to  have  entered  her  husband's  family  empty-handed. 
To  raise  the  sum  in  cash  was  impossible ;  but  he  assigned  to 
Mr.  Hodson  his  little  farm  and  the  income  of  his  tithes  untd 
the  marriage  portion  should  be  paid.  In  the  mean  time,  as  his 
living  did  not  amount  to  £200  per  annum,  he  had  to  practise 
the  strictest  economy  to  pay  off  gradually  this  heavy  tax  in- 
curred by  his  nice  sense  of  honor. 

The  first  of  his  family  to  feel  the  effects  of  this  economy  was 
Oliver.  The  time  had  now  arrived  for  him  to  be  sent  to  the 
University,  and,  accordingly,  on  the  11th  June,  1745,  when 
sixteen  years  of  age,  he  entered  Trinity  College,  Dublin;  but 
his  father  was  no  longer  able  to  place  him  there  as  a  pensioner, 
as  he  had  done  his  eldest  son  Henry ;  he  was  obliged,  therefore, 
to  enter  him  as  a  sizer,  or  "poor  scholar."  He  was  lodged  in 
one  of  the  top  rooms  adjoining  the  library  of  the  building, 
numbered  85,  where  it  is  said  his  name  may  still  be  seen, 
scratched  by  himself  upon  a  window  frame. 

A  student  of  this  class  is  taught  and  boarded  gratuitously, 
and  has  to  pay  but  a  very  small  sum  for  his  room.  It  is  ex- 
pected, in  return  for  these  advantages,  that  he  will  be  a  dili- 
gent student,  and  render  himself  useful  in  a  variety  of  ways. 
At  Trinity  College,  at  the  time  of  Goldsmith's  admission,  sev- 
eral derogatory  and  indeed  menial  offices  were  exacted  from 
the  sizer,  as  if  the  college  sought  to  indemnify  itself  for  confer- 
ring benefits  by  inflicting  indignities.  He  was  obliged  to  sweep 
part  of  the  courts  in  the  morning,  to  carry  up  the  dishes  from 
the  kitchen  to  the  fellows'  table,  and  to  wait  in  the  hall  until 
that  body  had  dined.  His  very  dress  marked  the  inferiority 
of  the  "  poor  student"  to  his  happier  classmates.  It  was  a 
black  gown  of  coarse  stuff  without  sleeves,  and  a  plain  black 


22  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

cloth  cap  without  a  tassel.  We  can  conceive  nothing  more 
odious  and  ill-judged  than  these  distinctions,  which  attached 
the  idea  of  degradation  to  poverty,  and  placed  the  indigent 
youth  of  merit  below  the  worthless  minion  of  fortune.  They 
were  calculated  to  wound  and  irritate  the  noble  mind,  and  to 
render  the  base  mind  baser. 

Indeed,  the  galling  effect  of  these  servile  tasks  upon  youths 
of  proud  spirits  and  quick  sensibilities  became  at  length  too 
notorious  to  be  disregarded.  About  fifty  years  since,  on  a 
Trinity  Sunday,  a  number  of  persons  were  assembled  to  wit- 
ness the  college  ceremonies ;  and  as  a  sizer  was  carrying  up  a 
dish  of  meat  to  the  fellows'  table,  a  burly  citizen  in  the  crowd 
made  some  sneering  observation  on  the  servility  of  his  office. 
Stung  to  the  quick,  the  high-spirited  youth  instantly  flung  the 
dish  and  its  contents  at  the  head  of  the  sneerer.  The  sizer  was 
sharply  reprimanded  for  this  outbreak  of  wounded  pride,  but 
the  degrading  task  was  from  that  day  forward  very  properly 
consigned  to  menial  hands. 

It  was  with  the  utmost  repugnance  that  Goldsmith  entered 
college  in  this  capacity.  His  shy  and  sensitive  nature  was 
affected  by  the  inferior  station  he  was  doomed  to  hold  among 
his  gay  and  opulent  fellow-students,  and  he  became,  at  times, 
moody  and  despondent.  A  recollection  of  these  early  mortifi- 
cations induced  him,  in  after  years,  most  strongly  to  dissuade 
his  brother  Henry,  the  clergyman,  from  sending  a  son  to  col- 
lege on  a  like  footing.  "If  he  has  ambition,  strong  passions, 
and  an  exquisite  sensibility  of  contempt,  do  not  send  him 
there,  unless  you  have  no  other  trade  for  him  except  your 
own." 

To  add  to  his  annoyances,  the  fellow  of  the  college  who  had 
the  peculiar  control  of  his  studies,  the  Rev.  Theaker  Wilder, 
was  a  man  of  violent  and  capricious  temper,  and  of  diametri- 
cally opposite  tastes.  The  tutor  was  devoted  to  the  exact 
sciences ;  Goldsmith  was  for  the  classics.  Wilder  endeavored 
to  force  his  favorite  studies  upon  the  student  by  harsh  means, 
suggested  by  his  own  coarse  and  savage  nature.  He  abused 
him  in  presence  of  the  class  as  ignorant  and  stupid ;  ridiculed 
him  as  awkward  and  ugly,  and  at  times  in  the  transports  of 
his  temper  indulged  in  personal  violence.  The  effect  was  to 
aggravate  a  passive  distaste  into  a  positive  aversion.  Gold- 
smith was  loud  in  expressing  His  contempt  for  mathematics 
and  his  dislike  of  ethics  and  logic;  and  the  prejudices  thus 
imbibed  continued  through  life.     Mathematics  he  always  pro- 


OLIVKR   GOLDSMITH.  23 

nounced  a  science  to  which  the  meanest  intellects  were  compe- 
tent. 

A  truer  cause  of  this  distaste  for  the  severer  studies  may 
probably  be  found  in  his  natural  indolence  and  his  love  of  con- 
vivial pleasures.  "I  was  a  lover  of  mirth,  good-humor,  and 
even  sometimes  of  fun,"  said  he,  "from  my  childhood."  He 
sang  a  good  song,  was  a  boon  companion,  and  could  not  resist 
any  temptation  to  social  enjoyment.  He  endeavored  to  per- 
suade himself  that  learning  and  dulness  went  hand  in  hand, 
and  that  genius  was  not  to  be  put  in  harness.  Even  in  riper 
years,  when  the  consciousness  of  his  own  deficiencies  ought  to 
have  convinced  him  of  the  importance  of  early  study,  he 
speaks  slightingly  of  college  honors. 

"  A  lad,"  says  he,  "whose  passions  are  not  strong  enough  in 
youth  to  mislead  him  from  that  path  of  science  wbich  his 
tutors,  and  not  his  inclination,  have  chalked  out,  by  four  or 
five  years'  perseverance  will  probably  obtain  every  advantage 
and  honor  his  college  can  bestow.  I  would  compare  the  man 
whose  youth  has  been  thus  passed  in  the  tranquillity  of  dispas- 
sionate prudence,  to  liquors  that  never  ferment,  and,  conse- 
quently, continue  always  muddy." 

The  death  of  his  worthy  father,  which  took  place  early  in 
1747,  rendered  Goldsmith's  situation  at  college  extremely  irk- 
some. His  mother  was  left  with  little  more  than  the  means  of 
providing  for  the  wants  of  her  household,  and  was  unable  to 
furnish  him  any  remittances.  He  would  have  been  compelled, 
therefore,  to  leave  college,  had  it  not  been  for  the  occasional 
contributions  of  friends,  the  foremost  among  whom  was  his 
generous  and  warm-hearted  uncle  Contarine.  Still  these  sup- 
plies were  so  scanty  and  precarious,  that  in  the  intervals  be- 
tween them  he  was  put  to  great  straits.  He  had  two  college  as- 
sociates from  whom  he  would  occasionally  borrow  small  sums ; 
one  was  an  early  schoolmate,  by  the  name  of  Beatty ;  the  other 
a  cousin,  and  the  chosen  companion  of  his  frolics,  Robert  (or 
rather  Bob)  Bryanton,  of  Ballymulvey  House,  near  Ballyma- 
hon.  When  these  casual  supplies  failed  him  he  was  more  than 
once  obliged  to  raise  funds  for  his  immediate  wants  by  pawn- 
ing his  books.  At  times  he  sank  into  despondency,  but  he  had 
what  he  termed  "a  knack  at  hoping,"  which  soon  buoyed  him 
up  again.  He  began  now  to  resort  to  his  poetical  vein  as  a 
source  of  profit,  scribbling  street-ballads,  which  he  privately 
sold  for  five  shillings  each  at  a  shop  which  dealt  in  such  small 
wares  of  literature.     He  felt  an  author's  affection  for  these 


24  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

unowned  bantlings,  and  we  are  told  would  stroll  privately 
through  the  streets  at  night  to  hear  them  sung,  listening  to 
the  comments  and  criticisms  of  bystanders,  and  observing  the 
degree  of  applause  which  each  received. 

Edmund  Burke  was  a  fellow-student  with  Goldsmith  at  the 
college.  Neither  the  statesman  nor  the  poet  gave  promise  of 
their  future  celebrity,  though  Burke  certainly  surpassed  Ins 
contemporary  in  industry  and  application,  and  evinced  more 
disposition  for  self -improvement,  associating  himself  with  a 
number  of  his  fellow-students  in  a  debating  club,  in  which 
they  discussed  literary  topics,  and  exercised  themselves  in 
composition. 

Goldsmith  may  likewise  have  belonged  to  this  association, 
but  his  propensity  was  rather  to  mingle  with  the  gay  and 
thoughtless.  On  one  occasion  we  find  him  implicated  in  an 
affair  that  came  nigh  producing  his  expulsion.  A  report  was 
brought  to  college  that  a  scholar  was  in  the  hands  of  the  bail- 
iffs. This  was  an  insult  in  which  every  gownsman  felt  him- 
self involved.  A  number  of  the  scholars  flew  to  arms,  and 
sallied  forth  to  battle,  headed  by  a  hare-brained  fellow  nick- 
named Gallows  Walsh,  noted  for  his  aptness  at  mischief  and 
fondness  for  riot.  The  stronghold  of  the  bailiff  was  carried  by 
storm,  the  scholar  set  at  liberty,  and  the  delinquent  catchpole 
borne  off  captive  to  the  college,  where,  having  no  pump  to  put 
him  under,  they  satisfied  the  demands  of  collegiate  law  by 
ducking  him  in  an  old  cistern. 

Flushed  with  this  signal  victory,  Gallows  Walsh  now  ha- 
rangued his  followers,  and  proposed  to  break  open  Newgate, 
or  the  Black  Dog,  as  the  prison  was  called,  and  effect  a  general 
jail  delivery.  He  was  answered  by  shouts  of  concurrence, 
and  away  went  the  throng  of  madcap  youngsters,  fidly  bent 
upon  putting  an  end  to  the  tyranny  of  law.  They  were  joined 
by  the  mob  of  the  city,  and  made  an  attack  upon  the  prison 
with  true  Irish  precipitation  and  thoughtlessness,  never  hav- 
ing provided  themselves  with  cannon  to  batter  its  stone  walls. 
.V  few  shots  from  the  prison  brought  them  to  their  senses,  and 
they  beat  a  hasty  retreat,  two  of  the  townsmen  being  killed, 
and  several  wounded. 

A  severe  scrutiny  of  this  affair  took  place  at  the  University. 
Four  students,  who  had  been  ringleaders,  were  expelled ;  four 
others,  who  had  been  prominent  in  the  affray,  were  public- 
ly admonished;  among  the  latter  was  the  unlucky  Gold- 
smith. 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  25 

To  make  up  for  this  disgrace,  he  gained,  within  a  month 
afterward,  one  of  the  minor  prizes  of  the  college.  It  is  true  it 
was  one  of  the  very  smallest,  amounting  in  pecuniary  value  to 
but  thirty  shillings,  but  it  was  the  first  distinction  he  had 
gained  in  his  whole  collegiate  career.  This  turn  of  success 
and  sudden  influx  of  wealth  proved  too  much  for  the  head  of 
our  poor  student.  He  forthwith  gave  a  supper  and  dance  at 
his  chamber  to  a  number  of  young  persons  of  both  sexes  from 
the  city,  in  direct  violation  of  college  rules.  The  unwonted 
sound  of  the  fiddle  reached  the  ears  of  the  implacable  Wilder. 
He  rushed  to  the  scene  of  unhallowed  festivity,  inflicted  cor- 
poral punishment  on  the  "father  of  the  feast,"  and  turned  his 
astonished  guests  neck  and  heels  out  of  doors. 

This  filled  the  measure  of  poor  Goldsmith's  humihations ;  he 
felt  degraded  both  within  college  and  without.  He  dreaded 
the  ridicule  of  his  fellow-students  for  the  ludicrous  termina- 
tion of  his  orgie,  and  he  was  ashamed  to  meet  his  city  acquain- 
tances after  the  degrading  chastisement  received  in  their  pres- 
ence, and  after  their  own  ignominious  expulsion.  Above  all, 
he  felt  it  impossible  to  submit  any  longer  to  the  insulting  ty- 
ranny of  Wilder ;  he  determined,  therefore,  to  leave,  not  merely 
the  college,  but  also  his  native  land,  and  to  bury  what  he  con- 
ceived to  be  his  irretrievable  disgrace  in  some  distant  country. 
He  accordingly  sold  his  books  and  clothes,  and  sallied  forth 
from  the  college  walls  the  very  next  day,  intending  to  embark 
at  Cork  for— he  scarce  knew  where— America,  or  any  other 
part  beyond  sea.  With  his  usual  heedless  imprudence,  how- 
ever, he  loitered  about  Dublin  until  his  finances  were  reduced 
to  a  shilling;  with  this  amount  of  specie  he  set  out  on  his 
journey. 

For  three  whole  days  he  subsisted  on  his  shilling ;  when  that 
was  spent,  he  parted  with  some  of  the  clothes  from  his  back, 
until,  reduced  almost  to  nakedness,  he  was  four-and-twenty 
hours  without  food,  insomuch  that  he  declared  a  handful  of 
gray  pease,  given  to  him  by  a  girl  at  a  wake,  was  one  of  the 
most  delicious  repasts  he  had  ever  tasted.  Hunger,  fatigue, 
and  destitution  brought  down  his  spirit  and  calmed  his  anger. 
Fain  would  he  have  retraced  his  steps,  could  he  have  done  so 
with  any  salvo  for  the  lingerings  of  his  pride.  In  Ms  extre- 
mity he  conveyed  to  his  brother  Henry  information  of  his  dis- 
tress, and  of  the  rash  project  on  which  he  had  set  out.  His 
affectionate  brother  hastened  to  his  relief;  furnished  him  with 
money  and  clothes;  soothed  his  feelings  with  gentle  counsel; 


Og  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

prevailed  upon  him  to  return  to  college,  and  effected  an  indif- 
ferent reconciliation  between  him  and  Wilder. 

After  this  irregular  sally  upon  life  he  remained  nearly  two 
years  longer  at  the  University,  giving  proofs  of  talent  in  occa- 
sional translations  from  the  classics,  for  one  of  which  he  re- 
ceived a  premium,  awarded  only  to  those  who  are  the  first  in 
literary  merit.  Still  he  never  made  much  figure  at  college, 
his  natural  disinclination  to  study  being  increased  by  the 
harsh  treatment  he  continued  to  experience  from  his  tutor. 

Among  the  anecdotes  told  of  him  while  at  college,  is  one  in- 
dicative of  that  prompt  but  thoughtless  and  often  whimsical 
benevolence  which  throughout  life  formed  one  of  the  most  ec- 
centric yet  endearing  points  of  his  character.  He  was  engaged 
to  breakfast  one  day  with  a  college  intimate,  but  failed  to  make 
his  appearance.  His  friend  repaired  to  his  room,  knocked  at- 
the  door,  and  was  bidden  to  enter.  To  his  surprise,  he  found 
Goldsmith  in  his  bed,  immersed  to  his  chin  in  feathers.  A 
serio-comic  story  explained  the  circumstance.  In  the  course 
of  the  preceding  evening's  stroll  he  had  met  with  a  woman  with 
five  children  who  implored  his  charity.  Her  husband  was  in 
the  hospital ;  she  was  just  from  the  country,  a  stranger,  and 
destitute,  without  food  or  shelter  for  her  helpless  offspring. 
This  was  too  much  for  the  kind  heart  of  Goldsmith.  He  was 
almost  as  poor  as  herself,  it  is  true,  and  had  no  money  in  his 
pocket;  but  he  brought  her  to  the  college  gate,  gave  her  the 
blankets  from  his  bed  to  cover  her  little  brood,  and  part  of  his 
clothes  for  her  to  sell  and  purchase  food ;  and,  finding  himself 
cold  during  the  night,  had  cut  open  his  bed  and  buried  himself 
among  the  feathers. 

At  length,  on  the  27th  of  February,  1749,  O.  S.,  he  was  ad- 
mitted to  the  degree  of  Bachelor  of  Arts,  and  took  his  final 
leave  of  the  University.  He  was  freed  from  college  rule,  that 
emancipation  so  ardently  coveted  by  the  thoughtless  student, 
and  which  too  generally  launches  him  amid  the  cares,  the 
hardships,  and  vicissitudes  of  life.  He  was  freed,  too,  from  the 
brutal  tyranny  of  Wilder.  If  his  kind  and  placable  nature 
could  retain  any  resentment  for  past  injuries,  it  might  have 
been  gratified  by  learning  subsequently  that  the  passionate 
career  of  Wilder  was  terminated  by  a  violent  death  in  the 
course  of  a  dissolute  brawl ;  but  Goldsmith  took  no  delight  in 
the  misfortunes  even  of  his  enemies.  - 

He  now  returned  to  his  friends,  no  longer  the  student  to  sport 
away  the  happy  interval  of  vacation,  but  the  anxious  man, 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  27 

who  is  henceforth  to  shift  for  himself  and  make  his  way 
through  the  world.  In  fact,  he  had  no  legitimate  home  to  re- 
turn to.  At  the  death  of  his  father,  the  paternal  house  at  Lis- 
soy,  in  which  Goldsmith  had  passed  his  childhood,  had  been 
taken  by  Mr.  Hodson,  who  had  married  his  sister  Catherine. 
His  mother  had  removed  to  Ballymahon,  where  she  occupied 
a  small  house,  and  had  to  practise  the  severest  frugality.  His 
elder  brother  Henry  served  the  curacy  and  taught  the  school 
of  his  late  father's  parish,  and  lived  in  narrow  circumstances 
at  Goldsmith's  birthplace,  the  old  goblin-house  at  Pallas. 

None  of  his  relatives  were  in  circumstances  to  aid  him  with 
anything  more  than  a  temporary  home,  and  the  aspect  of 
every  one  seemed  somewhat  changed.  In  fact,  his  career  at 
college  had  disappointed  his  friends,  and  they  began  to  doubt 
his  being  the  great  genius  they  had  fancied  him.  He  whimsi- 
cally alludes  to  this  circumstance  in  that  piece  of  autobiography, 
"  The  Man  in  Black,"  in  the  Citizen  of  the  World. 

"The  first  opportunity  my  father  had  of  finding  his  expecta- 
tions disappointed  was  in  the  middling  figure  I  made  at  the 
University ;  he  had  flattered  himself  that  he  should  soon  see  me 
rising  into  the  foremost  rank  in  literary  reputation,  but  was 
mortified  to  find  me  utterly  unnoticed  and  unknown.  His 
disappointment  might  have  been  partly  ascribed  to  his  having 
overrated  my  talents,  and  partly  to  my  dislike  of  mathemati- 
cal reasonings  at  a  time  when  my  imagination  and  memory, 
yet  unsatisfied,  were  more  eager  after  new  objects  than  desir- 
ous of  reasoning  upon  those  I  knew.  This,  however,  did  not 
please  my  tutors,  who  observed,  indeed,  that  I  was  a  little 
dull,  but  at  the  same  time  allowed  that  I  seemed  to  be  very 
good-natured,  and  had  no  harm  in  me."  * 

The  only  one  of  his  relatives  who  did  not  appear  to  lose  faith 
in  him  was  his  uncle  Contarine.  This  kind  and  considerate 
man,  it  is  said,  saw  in  him  a  warmth  of  heart  requiring  some 
skill  to  direct,  and  a  latent  genius  that  wanted  time  to  mature, 
and  these  impressions  none  of  his  subsequent  follies  and  irregu- 
larities wholly  obliterated.  His  purse  and  affection,  therefore, 
as  well  as  his  house,  were  now  open  to  him,  and  he  became  his 
chief  counsellor  and  director  after  his  father's  death.  He  urged 
him  to  prepare  for  holy  orders,  and  others  of  his  relatives  con- 
curred in  the  advice.  Goldsmith  had  a  settled  repugnance  to  a 
clerical  life.     This  had  been  ascribed  by  some  to  conscientious 


*  Citizen  of  the  World,  Letter  xxvii. 


28  01  J  VER   G  0LDSM1TH. 

scruples,  not  considering  himself  of  a  temper  and  frame  of  mind 
for  such  a  sacred  office ;  others  attributed  it  to  his  roving  pro- 
pensities, and  his  desire  to  visit  foreign  countries ;  he  himself 
gives  a  whimsical  objection  in  his  biography  of  the  ' '  Man  in 
Black :"  "  To  be  obliged  to  wear  a  long  wig  when  I  liked  a  short 
one,  or  a  black  coat  when  I  generally  dressed  in  brown,  I 
thought  such  a  restraint  upon  my  liberty  that  I  absolutely  re- 
jected the  proposal." 

In  effect,  however,  his  scruples  were  overruled,  and  he 
agreed  to  qualify  himself  for  the  office.  He  was  now  only 
twenty-one,  and  must  pass  two  years  of  probation.  They  were 
two  years  of  rather  loitering,  unsettled  life.  Sometimes  he  was 
at  Lissoy,  participating  with  thoughtless  enjoyment  in  the 
rural  sports  and  occupations  of  his  brother-in-law,  Mr.  Hodson ; 
sometimes  he  was  with  his  brother  Henry,  at  the  old  goblin 
mansion  at  Pallas,  assisting  Mm  occasionally  in  his  school. 
The  early  marriage  and  unambitious  retirement  of  Henry, 
though  so  subversive  of  the  fond  plans  of  his  father,  had  proved 
happy  in  their  results.  He  was  already  surrounded  by  a 
blooming  family;  he  was  contented  with  his  lot,  beloved  by 
his  parishioners,  and  lived  in  the  daily  practice  of  all  the  ami- 
able virtues,  and  the  immediate  enjoyment  of  their  reward. 
Of  the  tender  affection  inspired  in  the  breast  of  Goldsmith  by 
the  constant  kindness  of  this  excellent  brother,  and  of  the 
longing  recollection  with  which,  in  the  lonely  wanderings  of 
after  years,  he  looked  back  upon  this  scene  of  domestic  felicity, 
we  have  a  touching  instance  in  the  well-known  opening  to  his 
poem  of  "  The  Traveller:" 

"Remote,  unfriended,  melancholy,  slow, 
Or  by  the  lazy  Scheld  or  wandering  Po; 

***** 

Where'er  I  roam,  whatever  realms  to  see, 
My  heart  untravell'd  fondly  turns  to  thee; 
Still  to  my  brother  turns  with  ceaseless  pain. 
And  drags  at  each  remove  a  lengthening  chain. 

Eternal  blessings  crown  my  earliest  friend, 
And  round  his  dwelling  guardian  saints  attend; 
Bless'd  be  that  spot,  where  cheerful  guests  retire 
To  pause  from  toil,  and  trim  their  evening  fire: 
Bless'd  that  abode  where  want  and  pain  repair, 
And  every  stranger  finds  a  ready  chair: 

Bless'd  be  those  feasts  with* simple  plenty  crown'd. 

Where  all  the  ruddy  family  arourfd 

Laugh  at  the  jests  or  pranks  that  never  fail, 

Or  sigh  with  pity  at  some  mournful  tale; 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  2D 

Or  press  the  bashful  stranger  to  his  food, 
Aud  learn  the  luxury  of  doing  good." 

During  this  loitering  life  Goldsmith  pursued  no  study,  but 
rather  amused  himself  with  miscellaneous  reading;  such  as 
biography,  travels,  poetry,  novels,  plays— everything,  in  short, 
that  administered  to  the  imagination.  Sometimes  he  strolled 
along  the  banks  of  the  river  Inny,  where,  in  after  years,  when 
he  had  become  famous,  his  favorite  seats  and  haimts  used  to 
be  pointed  out.  Often  he  joined  in  the  rustic  sports  of  the 
villagers,  and  became  adroit  at  throwing  the  sledge,  a  favorite 
feat  of  activity  and  strength  in  Ireland.  Recollections  of  these 
"healthful  sports"  we  find  in  his  "Deserted  Village:" 

"  How  often  have  I  bless'd  the  coming  day, 
When  toil  remitting  lent  its  turn  to  play, 
And  all  the  village  train,  from  labor  free, 
Led  up  their  sports  beneath  the  spreading  tree: 
And  many  a  gambol  frolicked  o'er  the  ground, 
And  sleights  of  art  aud  feats  of  strength  went  round." 

A  boon  companion  in  all  his  rural  amusements  was  his 
cousin  and  college  crony,  Robert  Bryanton,  with  whom  he 
sojourned  occasionally  at  Ballymulvey  House  in  the  neighbor- 
hood. They  used  to  make  excursions  about  the  country  on 
foot,  sometimes  fishing,  sometimes  hunting  otter  in  the  Inny. 
They  got  up  a  country  club  at  the  little  inn  of  Baliymahon,  of 
which  Goldsmith  soon  became  the  oracle  and  prime  wit,  aston- 
ishing his  unlettered  associates  by  his  learning,  and  being 
considered  capital  at  a  song  and  a  story.  From  the  rustic 
conviviality  of  the  inn  at  Baliymahon,  and  the  company 
which  used  to  assemble  there,  it  is  surmised  that  he  took  some 
hints  in  after  life  for  his  picturing  of  Tony  Lumpkin  and  his 
associates:  "Dick  Muggins,  the  exciseman;  Jack  Slang,  the 
horse  doctor ;  little  Aminidab,  that  grinds  the  music-box,  and 
Tom  Twist,  that  spins  the  pewter  platter."  Nay,  it  is, thought 
that  Tony's  drinking  song  at  the  "Three  Jolly  Pigeons"  was 
but  a  revival  of  one  of  the  convivial  catches  at  Baliymahon : 

"  Then  come  put  the  jorum  about, 
And  let  us  be  merry  and  clever, 
Our  hearts  and  our  liquors  are  stout, 

Here's  the  Three  Jolly  Pigeons  for  ever. 
Let  some  cry  of  woodcock  or  hare, 

Your  bustards,  your  ducks,  and  your  widgeons, 
But  of  all  the  gay  birds  in  the  air, 
Here's  a  health  to  the  Three  Jolly  Pigeons. 
Toroddle,  toroddle,  toroll." 


30  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

Notwithstanding  all  these  accomplishments  and  this  rural 
popularity,  his  Mends  began  to  shake  their  heads  and  shrug 
their  shoulders  when  they  spoke  of  him;  and  his  brother 
Henry  noted  with  anything  but  satisfaction  his  frequent  visits 
to  the  club  at  Ballymahon.  He  emerged,  however,  unscathed 
from  this  dangerous  ordeal,  more  fortunate  in  this  respect 
than  his  comrade  Bryanton ;  but  he  retained  throughout  life 
a  fondness  for  clubs ;  often,  too,  in  the  course  of  his  checkered 
career,  he  looked  back  to  this  period  of  rural  sports  and  care- 
less enjoyments  as  one  of  the  few  sunny  spots  of  his  cloudy 
life ;  and  though  he  ultimately  rose  to  associate  with  birds  of  a 
finer  feather,  his  heart  would  still  yearn  in  secret  after  the 
"  Three  Jolly  Pigeons." 


CHAPTER  III. 


GOLDSMITH  REJECTED  BY  THE  BISHOP— SECOND  SALLY  TO  SEE 
THE  WORLD — TAKES  PASSAGE  FOR  AMERICA— SHIP  SAILS  WITH- 
OUT HIM — RETURN  ON  FIDDLE-BACK — A  HOSPITABLE  FRIEND — 
THE   COUNSELLOR. 

The  time  was  now  arrived  for  Goldsmith  to  apply  for  orders, 
and  he  presented  himself  accordingly  before  the  Bishop  of 
Elfphn  for  ordination.  We  have  stated  his  great  objection  to 
clerical  life,  the  obligation  to  wear  a  black  coat ;  and,  whim- 
sical as  it  may  appear,  dress  seemed  in  fact  to  have  formed  an 
obstacle  to  his  entrance  into  the  church.  He  had  ever  a  pas- 
sion for  clothing  his  sturdy  but  awkward  little  person  in  gay 
colors;  and  on  this  solemn  occasion,  when  it  was  to  be  sup- 
posed his  garb  would  be  of  suitable  gravity,  he  appeared 
luminously  arrayed  in  scarlet  breeches !  He  was  rejected  by 
the  bishop ;  some  say  for  want  of  sufficient  studious  prepara- 
tion; his  rambles  and  frolics  with  Bob  Bryanton,  and  his  revels 
with  the  club  at  Ballymahon,  having  been  much  in  the  way  of 
his  theological  studies;  others  attribute  his  rejection  to  reports 
of  his  college  irregularities,  which  the  bishop  had  received 
from  his  old  tyrant  Wilder;  but  those  who  look  into  the 
matter  with  more  knowing  eyes  pronounce  the  scarlet  breeches 
to  have  been  the  fundamental  objection.  "  My  friends,"  says 
Goldsmith,  speaking   through    his  humorous  representative, 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  31 

the  "Man  in  Black" — "my  friends  were  now  perfectly  satis- 
fied I  was  undone ;  and  yet  they  thought  it  a  pity  for  one  that 
had  not  the  least  harm  in  him,  and  was  so  very  good-natured." 
His  uncle  Contarine,  however,  still  remained  unwavering  in 
his  kindness,  though  much  less  sanguine  in  his  expectations. 
He  now  looked  round  for  a  humbler  sphere  of  action,  and 
through  his  influence  and  exertions  Oliver  was  received  as 
tutor  in  the  family  of  a  Mr.  Flinn,  a  gentleman  of  the  neigh- 
borhood. The  situation  was  apparently  respectable;  he  had 
his  seat  at  the  table,  and  joined  the  family  in  their  domestic 
recreations  and  their  evening  game  at  cards.  There  was  a 
servility,  however,  in  his  position,  which  was  not  to  his  taste ; 
nor  did  his  deference  for  the  family  increase  upon  familiar  in- 
tercourse. He  charged  a  member  of  it  with  unfair  play  at 
cards.  A  violent  altercation  ensued,  which  ended  in  his 
throwing  up  his  situation  as  tutor.  On  being  paid  off  he  found 
himself  in  possession  of  an  unheard  of  amount  of  money.  His 
wandering  propensity  and  his  desire  to  see  the  world  were 
instantly  in  the  ascendency.  Without  communicating  his 
plans  or  intentions  to  his  friends,  he  procured  a  good  horse, 
and  with  thirty  pounds  in  his  pocket  made  his  second  sally 
forth  into  the  world. 

The  worthy  niece  and  housekeeper  of  the  hero  of  La  Mancha 
could  not  have  been  more  surprised  and  dismayed  at  one  of 
the  Don's  clandestine  expeditions,  than  were  the  mother  and 
friends  of  Goldsmith  when  they  heard  of  his  mysterious  de- 
parture. Weeks  elapsed,  and  nothing  was  seen  or  heard  of 
him.  It  was  feared  that  he  had  left  the  country  on  one  of  his 
wandering  freaks,  and  his  poor  mother  was  reduced  almost  to 
despair,  when  one  day  he  arrived  at  her  door  almost  as  for- 
lorn in  plight  as  the  prodigal  son.  Of  his  thirty  pounds  not  a 
shilling  was  left ;  and  instead  of  the  goodly  steed  on  which  he 
had  issued  forth  on  his  errantry,  he  was  mounted  on  a  sorry 
little  pony,  which  he  had  nicknamed  Fiddle-back.  As  soon  as 
his  mother  was  well  assured  of  his  safety,  she  rated  him 
soundly  for  his  inconsidei'ate  conduct.  His  brothers  and  sis- 
ters, who  were  tenderly  attached  to  him,  interfered,  and  suc- 
ceeded in  mollifying  her  ire ;  and  whatever  lurking  anger  the 
good  dame  might  have,  was  no  doubt  effectually  vanquished 
by  the  following  whimsical  narrative  which  he  drew  up  at  his 
brother's  house  and  dispatched  to  her : 

"My  dear  mother,  if  you  will  sit  down  and  calmly  listen  to 
what  I  say,  you  shall  be  fully  resolved  in  every  one  of  those 


32  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

many  questions  you  have  asked  me.  I  went  to  Cork  and  con- 
verted my  horse,  which  you  prize  so  much  higher  than  Fiddle- 
back,  into  cash,  took  my  passage  in  a  ship  bound  for  America, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  paid  the  captain  for  my  freight  and  all 
the  other  expenses  of  my  voyage.  But  it  so  happened  that  the 
wind  did  not  answer  for  three  weeks ;  and  you  know,  mother, 
that  I  coidd  not  command  the  elements.  My  misfortune  was, 
that,  when  the  wind  served,  I  happened  to  be  with  a  party  in 
the  country,  and  my  friend  the  captain  never  inquired  after 
me,  but  set  sail  with  as  much  indifference  as  if  I  had  been  on 
board.  The  remainder  of  my  time  I  employed  in  the  city  and 
its  environs,  viewing  everything  curious,  and  you  know  no  one 
can  starve  while  he  has  money  in  his  pocket. 

"Reduced,  however,  to  my  last  two  guineas,  I  began  to  think 
of  my  dear  mother  and  friends  whom  I  had  left  behind  me, 
and  so  bought  that  generous  beast  Fiddle-back,  and  bade  adieu 
to  Cork  with  only  five  shillings  in  my  pocket.  This,  to  be  sure, 
was  but  a  scanty  allowance  for  man  and  horse  toward  a  jour- 
ney of  above  a  hundred  miles ;  but  I  did  not  despair,  for  I  knew 
I  must  find  friends  on  the  road. 

' '  I  recollected  particularly  an  old  and  faithful  acquaintance 
I  made  at  college,  who  had  often  and  earnestly  pressed  me  to 
spend  a  summer  with  him,  and  he  lived  but  eight  miles  from 
Cork.  This  circumstance  of  vicinity  he  would  expatiate  on  to 
me  with  peculiar  emphasis.  'We  shall,'  says  he,  'enjoy  the 
delights  of  both  city  and  country,  and  you  shall  command  my 
stable  and  my  purse. ' 

' '  However,  upon  the  way  I  met  a  poor  woman  all  in  tears, 
who  told  me  her  husband  had  been  arrested  for  a  debt  he  was 
not  able  to  pay,  and  that  his  eight  children  must  now  starve, 
bereaved  as  they  were  of  his  industry,  which  had  been  their 
only  support.  I  thought  myself  at  home,  being  not  far  from 
my  good  friend's  house,  and  therefore  parted  with  a  moiety  of 
all  my  store ;  and  pray,  mother,  ought  I  not  to  have  given  her 
the  other  half  crown,  for  what  she  got  would  be  of  little  use  to 
her?  However,  I  soon  arrived  at  the  mansion  of  my  affection- 
ate friend,  guarded  by  the  vigilance  of  a  huge  mastiff,  who 
flew  at  me  and  would  have  torn  me  to  pieces  but  for  the  assist- 
ance of  a  woman,  whose  countenance  was  not  less  grim  than 
that  of  the  dog ;  yet  she  with  great  humanity  relieved  me  from 
the  jaws  of  this  Cerberus,  and  was  prevailed  on  to  carry  up  my 
name  to  her  master. 

"  Without  suffering  me  to  wait  long,  my  old  friend,  who  was 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  ;>;> 

then  recovering  from  a  severe  fit  of  sickness,  came  down  in  his 
nightcap,  nightgown,  and  slippers,  and  embraced  me  with  the 
most  cordial  welcome,  showed  me  in,  and,  after  giving  me  a 
history  of  his  indisposition,  assured  me  that  he  considered  him- 
self peculiarly  fortunate  in  having  under  his  roof  the  man  he 
most  loved  on  earth,  and  whose  stay  with  him  must,  above  all 
things,  contribute  to  perfect  his  recovery.  I  now  repented 
sorely  I  had  not  given  the  poor  woman  the  other  half  crown, 
as  I  thought  all  my  bills  of  humanity  would  be  punctually  an- 
swered by  this  worthy  man.  I  revealed  to  him  my  whole  sotd ; 
I  opened  to  him  all  my  distresses;  and  freely  owned  that  I  had 
but  one  half  crown  in  my  pocket ;  but  that  now,  like  a  ship 
after  weathering  out  the  storm,  I  considered  myself  secure  in  a 
safe  and  hospitable  harbor.  He  made  no  answer,  but  walked 
about  the  room,  rubbing  his  hands  as  one  in  deep  study.  This 
I  imputed  to  the  sympathetic  feelings  of  a  tender  heart,  which 
increased  my  esteem  for  him,  and,  as  that  increased,  I  gave  the 
most  favorable  interpretation  to  his  silence.  I  construed  it  into 
delicacy  of  sentiment,  as  if  he  dreaded  to  wound  my  pride  by 
expressing  his  commiseration  in  words,  leaving  his  generous 
cotKluct  to  speak  for  itself. 

"It  now  approached  six  o'clock  in  the  evening;  and  as  I  had 
eaten  no  breakfast,  and  as  my  spirits  were  raised,  my  appetite 
for  dinner  grew  uncommonly  keen.  At  length  the  old  woman 
came  into  the  room  with  two  plates,  one  spoon,  and  a  dirty 
cloth,  which  she  laid  upon  the  table.  This  appearance,  without 
increasing  my  spirits,  did  not  diminish  my  appetite.  My  pro- 
tectress* soon  returned  with  a  small  bowl  of  sago,  a  small  por- 
ringer of  sour  milk,  a  loaf  of  stale  brown  bread,  and  the  heel  of 
an  old  cheese  all  over  crawling  with  mites.  My  friend  apolo- 
gized that  his  illness  obliged  him  to  live  on  slops,  and  that  bet- 
ter fare  was  not  in  the  house;  observing,  at  the  same  time, 
that  a  milk  diet  was  certainly  the  most  healthful;  and  at  eight 
o'clock  he  again  recommended  a  regular  life,  declaring  that  for 
his  part  he  would  lie  down  with  the  lamb  and  rise  with  the  lark. 
My  hunger  was  at  this  time  so  exceedingly  sharp  that  I  wished 
for  another  slice  of  the  loaf,  but  was  obliged  to  go  to  bed  with- 
out even  that  refreshment.  ■ 

' '  This  lenten  entertainment  I  had  received  made  me  resolve 
to  depart  as  soon  as  possible;  accordingly,  next  morning,  when 
I  spoke  of  going,  he  did  not  oppose  my  resolution ;  he  rather 
commended  my  design,  adding  some  very  sage  counsel  upon 
the  occasion.     ' To  be  sure,'  said  he,  'the  longer  you  stay  away 


34  OLIVER  GOLDSMITif. 

from  your  mother,  the  more  you  will  grieve  her  and  your  other 
friends ;  and  possibly  they  are  already  afflicted  at  hearing  of 
this  f oolish  expedition  you  have  made. '  Notwithstanding  all 
this,  and  without  any  hope  of  softening  such  a  sordid  heart,  I 
again  renewed  the  tale  of  my  distress,  and  asking  'how  he 
thought  I  could  travel  above  a  hundred  miles  upon  one  half 
crown?'  I  begged  to  borrow  a  single  guinea,  which  I  assured 
him  should  be  repaid  with  thanks.  '  And  you  know,  sir,'  said 
I,  '  it  is  no  more  than  I  have  done  for  you. '  To  which  he  firmly 
answered,  '  Why,  look  you,  Mr.  Goldsmith,  that  is  neither  here 
nor  there.  I  have  paid  you  all  you  ever  lent  me,  and  this 
sickness  of  mine  has  left  me  bare  of  cash.  But  I  have  be- 
thought myself  of  a  conveyance  for  you ;  sell  your  horse,  and  I 
will  furnish  you  a  much  better  one  to  ride  on.'  I  readily 
grasped  at  his  proposal,  and  begged  to  see  the  nag;  on  which 
he  led  me  to  his  bedchamber,  and  from  under  the  bed  he  pulled 
out  a  stout  oak  stick.  '  Here  he  is,'  said  he ;  '  take  this  in  your 
hand,  and  it  will  carry  you  to  your  mother's  with  more  safety 
than  such  a  horse  as  you  ride. '  I  was  in  doubt,  when  I  got  it 
into  my  hand,  whether  I  should  not,  in  the  first  place,  apply  it 
to  his  pate ;  but  a  rap  at  the  street  door  made  the  wretch  fly  to 
it,  and  when  I  returned  to  the  parlor,  he  introduced  me,  as  if 
nothing  of  the  kind  had  happened,  to  the  gentleman  who  en- 
tered, as  Mr.  Goldsmith,  his  most  ingenious  and  worthy  friend, 
of  whom  he  had  so  often  heard  him  speak  with  rapture.  I 
could  scarcely  compose  myself,  and  must  have  betrayed  indig- 
nation in  my  mien  to  the  stranger,  who  was  a  counsellor-at- 
law  in  the  neighborhood,  a  man  of  engaging  aspect  and  polite 
address. 

"After  spending  an  hour,  he  asked  my  friend  and  me  to 
dine  with  him  at  his  house.  This  I  declined  at  first,  as  I 
wished  to  have  no  farther  communication  with  my  hospitable 
friend;  but  at  the  solicitation  of  both  I  at  last  consented,  de- 
termined as  I  was  by  two  motives:  one,  that  I  was  prejudiced 
in  favor  of  the  looks  and  manner  of  the  counsellor ;  and  the 
other,  that  I  stood  in  need  of  a  comfortable  dinner.  And  , 
there,  indeed,  I  found  everything  that  I  could  wish,  abund- 
ance without  profusion,  and  elegance  without  affectation.  In 
the  evening,  when  my  old  friend,  who  had  eaten  very  plenti- 
fully at  his  neighbor's  table,  4sut  talked  again  of  lying  down 
with  the  lamb,  made  a  motion  to  me  for  retiring,  our  generous 
host  requested  I  should  take  a  bed  with  him.  upon  which  I 
plainly  told  my  old  friend  that  he  might  go  home  and  take 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  35 

care  of  the  horse  he  had  given  me,  but  that  I  should  never  re- 
enter his  doors.  He  went  away  with  a  laugh,  leaving  me  to 
add  this  to  the  other  little  things  the  counsellor  already  knew 
of  his  plausible  neighbor. 

"And  now,  my  dear  mother,  I  found  sufficient  to  reconcile 
me  to  all  my  follies ;  for  here  I  spent  three  whole  days.  The 
counsellor  had  two  sweet  girls  to  his  daughters,  who  played 
enchantingly  on  the  harpsichord ;  and  yet  it  was  but  a  mel- 
ancholy pleasure  I  felt  the  first  time  I  heard  them ;  for  that 
being  the  first  time  also  that  either  of  them  had  touched  the 
instrument  since  their  mother's  death,  I  saw  the  tears  in 
silence  trickle  down  their  father's  cheeks.  I  every  day  en- 
deavored to  go  away,  but  every  day  was  pressed  and  obliged 
to  stay.  On  my  going,  the  counsellor  offered  me  his  purse, 
with  a  horse  and  servant  to  convey  me  home ;  but  the  latter  I 
declined,  and  only  took  a  guinea  to  bear  my  necessary  ex- 
penses on  the  road. 

"Oliver  Goldsmith. 

"To  Mrs.  Aiine  Goldsmith,  Ballymahon." 

Such  is  the  story  given  by  the  poet-errant  of  this  his  second 
sally  in  quest  of  adventures.  We  cannot  but  think  it  was 
here  and  there  touched  up  a  little  with  the  f  ancif  ul  pen  of  the 
future  essayist,  with  a  view  to  amuse  his  mother  and  soften 
her  vexation;  but  even  in  these  respects  it  is  valuable  as 
showing  the  early  play  of  his  humor,  and  his  happy  knack  of 
extracting  sweets  from  that  worldly  experience  which  to 
others  yields  nothing  but  bitterness. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

SALLIES  FORTH  AS  A  LAW  STUDENT — STUMBLES  AT  THE  OUTSET 
—COUSIN  JANE  AND  THE  VALENTINE — A  FAMILY  ORACLE — SAL- 
LIES FORTH  AS  A  STUDENT  OF  MEDICINE — HOCUS-POCUS  OF  A 
BOARDING-HOUSE— TRANSFORMATIONS  OF  A  LEG  OF  MUTTON— 
THE  MOCK  GHOST — SKETCHES  OF  SCOTLAND — TRIALS  OF  TOADY- 
ISM—A  POET'S  PURSE  FOR  A  CONTINENTAL  TOUR. 

A  new  consultation  was  held  among  Goldsmith's  friends  as 
to  his  future  course,  and  it  was  determined  he  should  try  the 
law.  His  uncle  Contarine  agreed  to  advance  the  necessary 
funds,  and  actually  furnished  him  with  fifty  pounds,   with 


36  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

which  he  set  off  for  London,  to  enter  on  his  studies  at  the 
Temple.  Unfortunately,  he  fell  in  company  at  Dublin  with  a 
Roscommon  acquaintance,  one  whose  wits  had  been  sharpened 
about  town,  who  beguiled  him  into  a  gambling-house,  and 
soon  left  him  as  penniless  as  when  he  bestrode  the  redoubtable 
Fiddle-back. 

He  was  so  ashamed  of  this  fresh  instance  of  gross  heedless- 
ness and  imprudence  that  he  remained  some  time  in  Dublin 
without  communicating  to  his  friends  his  destitute  condition. 
They  heard  of  it,  however,  and  he  was  invited  back  to  the 
country,  and  indulgently  forgiven  by  his  generous  uncle,  but 
less  readdy  by  his  mother,  who  was  mortified  and  disheart- 
ened at  seeing  all  her  early  hopes  of  him  so  repeatedly  blighted. 
His  brother  Henry,  too,  began  to  lose  patience  at  these  suc- 
cessive failures,  residting  from  thoughtless  indiscretion;  and 
a  quarrel  took  place,  which  for  some  time  interrupted  their 
usually  affectionate  intercourse. 

The  only  home  where  poor  erring  Goldsmith  stdl  received  a 
welcome  was  the  parsonage  of  bis  affectionate,  forgiving 
uncle.  Here  he  used  to  talk  of  literature  with  the  good, 
simple-hearted  man,  and  delight  him  and  his  daughter  with 
his  verses.  Jane,  his  early  playmate,  was  now  the  woman 
giwvn;  their  intercourse  was  of  a  more  intellectual  kind  than 
formerly;  they  discoursed  of  poetry  and  music;  she  played  on 
the  harpsichord,  and  he  accompanied  her  with  his  flute.  The 
music  may  not  have  been  very  artistic,  as  he  never  performed 
but  by  ear;  it  had  probably  as  much  'merit  as  the  poetry, 
which,  if  we  may  judge  by  the  following  specimen,  was  as  yet 
but  juvenile: 

TO   A   YOUNG   LADY   ON  VALENTINES   DAY. 

WITH  THE  DKAWING  OF  A   HEART. 

With  submission  at  your  shrine, 
Comes  a  heart  your  Valentine; 
From  the  si-:  i    n\ 

See  it  panting  flies  to  you. 
Take  it,  fair  one,  to  your  breast, 
Soothe  the  fluttering  thing  tor 
Let  the  gentle,  spotless  toy, 
Be  your  sweetest,  greatest  joy; 
Every  nifiht  when  wrapp'd  in  sleep, 
Next  your  heart-IBe  conquest  keep; 
Or  if  dreai  fancy  mi 

Hear  it  whisper  me  and  1' 
Then  in  pity  to  I  hi  sv  ain. 
Who  must  hearties       -    remain, 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  37 

Soft  as  gentle  dewy  show'rs, 
Slow  descend  on  April  flow'rs; 

Soft  as  gentle  riv'lets  glide, 
Steal  unnoticed  to  my  side; 
If  the  gem  you  have  to  spare, 
Take  your  own  and  place  it  there. 

If  this  valentine  was  intended  for  the  fair  Jane,  and  expres- 
sive of  a  tender  sentiment  indulged  by  the  stripling  poet,  it 
was  unavailing,  as  not  long  afterward  she  was  married  to  a 
Mr.  Lawder.  We  trust,  however,  it  was  hut  a  poetical  pas- 
sion of  that  transient  land  which  grows  up  in  idleness  and  ex- 
hales itself  in  rhyme.  While  Oliver  was  thus  piping  and  poet- 
izing at  the  parsonage,  his  uncle  Contarine  received  a  visit 
from  Dean  Goldsmith  of  Cloyne;  a  kind  of  magnate  in  the 
wide  but  improvident  family  connection,  throughout  which 
his  word  was  law  and  ahnost  gospel.  This  august  dignitary 
was  pleased  to  discover  signs  of  talent  in  Oliver,  and  suggested 
that  as  he  had  attempted  divinity  and  law  without  success,  he 
should  now  try  physic.  The  advice  came  from  too  important 
a  source  to  be  disregarded,  and  it  was  determined  to  send  him 
to  Edinburgh  to  commence  Iris  studies.  The  Dean  having 
given  the  advice,  added  to  it,  we  trust,  his  blessing,  but  no 
money ;  that  was  furnished  from  the  scantier  purses  of  Gold- 
smith's brother,  his  sister  (Mrs.  Hodson)  and  his  ever  ready 
uncle,  Contarine. 

It  was  in  the  autumn  of  1752  that  Goldsmith  arrived  in 
Edinburgh.  His  outset  in  that  city  came  near  adding  to  the 
list  of  his  indiscretions  and  disasters.  Having  taken  lodgings 
at  haphazard,  he  left  his  trunk  there,  containing  all  his  worldly 
effects,  and  sallied  forth  to  see  the  town.  After  sauntering 
about  the  streets  until  a  late  hour,  he  thought  of  returning 
home,  when,  to  his  confusion,  he  found  he  had  not  acquainted 
himself  with  the  name  either  of  his  landlady  or  of  the  street  in 
which  she  lived.  Fortunately,  in  the  height  of  his  whimsical 
perplexity,  he  met  the  cawdy  or  porter  who  had  carried  his 
trunk,  and  who  now  served  him  as  a  guide. 

He  did  not  remain  long  in  the  lodgings  in  which  he  had  put 
up.  The  hostess  was  too  adroit  at  that  hocus-pocus  of  the 
table  which  often  is  practised  in  cheap  boarding-houses.  No 
one  could  conjure  a  single  joint  through  a  greater  variety  of 
forms.  A  loin  of  mutton,  according  to  Goldsmith's  account, 
would  serve  him  and  two  fellow-students  a  whole  week.  ' '  A 
brandered  chop  was  served  up  one  day,  a  fried  steal;  another, 


38  OLIVER  6 OLD SMITH. 

collops  with  onion  sauce  a  third,  and  so  on  until  the  fleshy- 
parts  were  quite  consumed,  when  finally  a  dish  of  broth  was 
manufactured  from  the  bones  on  the  seventh  day,  and  the 
landlady  rested  from  her  labors."  Goldsmith  had  a  good- 
humored  mode  of  taking  things,  and  for  a  short  time  amused 
himself  with  the  shifts  and  expedients  of  his  landlady,  which 
struck  him  in  a  ludicrous  manner ;  he  soon,  however,  fell  in 
with  fellow-students  from  his  own  country,  whom  he  joined  at 
more  eligible  quarters. 

He  now  attended  medical  lectures,  and  attached  himself  to 
an  association  of  students  called  the  Medical  Society.  He  set 
out,  as  usual,  with  the  best  intentions,  but,  as  usual,  soon  fell 
into  idle,  convivial,  thoughtless  habits.  Edinburgh  was  in- 
deed a  place  of  sore  trial  for  one  of  his  temperament.  Con- 
vivial meetings  were  all  the  vogue,  and  the  tavern  was  the 
universal  rallying-place  of  good-fellowship.  And  then  Gold- 
smith's intimacies  lay  chiefly  among  the  Irish  students,  who 
were  always  ready  for  a  wild  freak  and  frolic.  Among  them 
he  was  a  prime  favorite  and  somewhat  of  a  leader,  from  his 
exuberance  of  spirits,  his  vein  of  humor,  and  his  talent  at 
singing  an  Irish  song  and  telling  an  Irish  story. 

His  usual  carelessness  in  money  matters  attended  him. 
Though  his  supplies  from  home  were  scanty  and  irregular,  he 
never  could  bring  himself  into  habits  of  prudence  and  econ- 
omy ;  often  he  was  stripped  of  all  his  present  finances  at  play; 
often  he  lavished  them  away  in  fits  of  unguarded  charity  or 
generosity.  Sometimes  among  his  boon  companions  he  as- 
sumed a  ludicrous  swagger  in  money  matters,  which  no  one 
afterward  was  more  ready  than  himself  to  laugh  at.  At  a 
convivial  meeting  with  a  number  of  his  fellow-students,  he 
suddenly  proposed  to  draw  lots  with  any  one  present  which 
of  the  two  should  treat  the  whole  party  to  the  play.  The 
moment  the  proposition  had  bolted  from  his  lips,  his  heart 
was  in  his  throat.  "To  my  great  though  secret  joy,"  said  he, 
"they  all  declined  the  challenge.  Had  it  been  accepted,  and 
had  I  proved  the  loser,  a  part  of  my  wardrobe  must  have  been 
pledged  in  order  to  raise  the  money." 

At  another  of  these  meetings  there  was  an  earnest  dispute 
on  the  question  of  ghosts,  some  being  firm  believers  in  the  pos- 
sibility of  departed  spirits  returning  to  visit  their  friends  and 
familiar  haunts.  One  of  the  disputants  set  sail  the  next 
day  for  London,  but  the  vessel  put  back  through  stress  of 
weather.    His  return  was  unknown  except  to  one  of  the  be- 


OLIVER    GOLDSMITH.  39 

Hovers  in  ghosts,  who  concerted  with  him  a  trick  to  be  played 
off  on  the  opposite  party.  In  the  evening,  at  a  meeting  of  the 
students,  the  discussion  was  renewed;  and  one  of  the  most 
strenuous  opposers  of  ghosts  was  asked  whether  he  considered 
himself  proof  against  ocular  demonstration?  He  persisted  in 
his  scoffing.  Some  solemn  process  of  conjuration  was  per- 
formed, and  the  comrade  supposed  to  be  on  his  way  to  Lon- 
don made  his  appearance.  The  effect  was  fatal.  The  unbe 
liever  fainted  at  the  sight,  and  ultimately  went  mad.  We 
have  no  account  of  what  share  Goldsmith  took  in  this  transae 
tion,  at  which  he  was  present. 

The  following  letter  to  his  friend  Bryanton  contains  some  oi 
Goldsmith's  impressions  concerning  Scotland  and  its  inhabi- 
tants, and  gives  indications  of  that  humor  which  characterized 
some  of  his  later  writings. 

"Robert  Bryanton,  at  Ballymahon,  Ireland. 

"  Edinburgh,  September  26,  1753. 

"My  dear  Bob:  How  many  good  excuses  (and  you  know 
I  was  ever  good  at  an  excuse)  might  I  call  up  to  vindicate  my 
past  shameful  silence.  I  might  tell  how  I  wrote  a  long  letter 
on  my  first  coming  hither,  and  seem  vastly  angry  at  my  not 
receiving  an  answer ;  I  might  allege  that  business  (with  busi- 
ness you  know  I  was  always  pestered)  had  never  given  me 
tune  to  finger  a  pen.  But  I  suppress  those  and  twenty  more 
as  plausible,  and  as  easily  invented,  since  they  might  be  at- 
tended with  a  slight  inconvenience  of  being  known  to  be  lies. 
Let  me  then  speak  truth.  An  hereditary  indolence  (I  have  it 
from  the  mother's  side)  has  hitherto  prevented  my  writing  to 
you,  and  still  prevents  my  writing  at  least  twenty-five  letters 
more,  due  to  my  friends  in  Ireland.  No  turn-spit-dog  gets  up 
into  his  wheel  with  more  reluctance  than  I  sit  down  to  write ; 
yet  no  dog  ever  loved  the  roast  meat  he  turns  better  than  I  do 
him  I  now  address. 

"Yet  what  shall  I  say  now  I  am  entered?  Shall  I  tire  you 
with  a  description  of  this  unfruitful  country;  where  I  must 
lead  you  over  their  hills  all  brown  with  heath,  or  their  valleys 
scarcely  able  to  feed  a  rabbit?  Man  alone  seems  to  be  the  only 
creature  who  has  arrived  to  the  natural  size  in  this  poor  soil. 
Every  part  of  the  country  presents  the  same  dismal  landscape. 
No  grove,  nor  brook,  lend  their  music  to  cheer  the  stranger,  or 
make  the  inhabitants  forget  their  poverty.     Yet  with  all  these 


40  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH 

disadvantages  to  call  him  down  to  humility,  a  Scotchman  is 
one  of  the  proudest  things  alive.  The  poor  have  pride  ever 
ready  to  relieve  them.  If  mankind  should  happen  to  despise 
them,  they  are  masters  of  then*  own  admiration,  and  that  they 
can  plentifully  bestow  upon  themselves. 

"From  their  pride  and  poverty,  as  I  take  it,  results  one  ad- 
vantage this  country  enjoys— namely,  the  gentlemen  here  are 
j  iuch  better  bred  than  among  us.  No  such  character  here  as 
i  ur  fox-hunters ;  and  they  have  expressed  great  surprise  when 
I  informed  them  that  some  men  in  Ireland  of  one  thousand 
pounds  a  year  spend  their  whole  lives  in  running  after  a  hare, 
and  drinking  to  be  drunk.  Truly  if  such  a  being,  equipped  in 
his  hunting  dress,  came  among  a  circle  of  Scotch  gentry,  they 
would  behold  him  with  the  same  astonishment  that  a  country- 
man does  King  George  on  horseback. 

"The  men  here  have  generally  high  cheek  bones,  and  are 
d  and  swarthy,  fond  of  action,  dancing  in  particular.  Now 
that  I  have  mentioned  dancing,  let  me  say  something  of  their 
balls,  which  are  very  frequent  here.  When  a  stranger  enters 
the  dancing-hall,  he  sees  one  end  of  the  room  taken  up  by  the 
ladies,  who  sit  dismally  in  a  group  by  themselves ;  in  the  other 
end  stand  their  pensive  partners  that  are  to  be ;  but  no  more 
intercourse  between  the  sexes  than  there  is  between  two 
countries  at  war.  The  ladies  indeed  may  ogle,  arid  the  gentle- 
men sigh;  but  an  embargo  is  laid  on  any  closer  commerce. 
A.t  length,  to  interrupt  hostilities,  the  lady  directress,  or  in- 
tendant,  or  what  you  will,  pitches  upon  a  lady  and  gentleman 
to  walk  a  minuet;  which  they  perform  with  formality  that  ap- 
proaches to  despondence.  After  five  or  six  couple  have  thus 
walked  the  gauntlet,  all  stand  up  to  country  dances;  each 
gentleman  furnished  with  a  partner  from  the  aforesaid  lady 
directress;  so  they  dance  much,  say  nothing,  and  thus  con- 
cludes  our  assembly.  I  told  a  Scotch  gentleman  that  such 
profound  silence  resembled  the  ancient  procession  of  the 
Roman  matrons  in  honor  of  Ceres;  and  the  Scotch  gentleman 
told  me  (and,  faith,  I  believe  he  was  right)  that  I  was  a  very 
great  pedant  for  my  pains. 

"Now  I  am  come  to  the  ladies;  and  to  show  that  I  love 
Scotland,  and  everything  that  belongs  to  so  charming  a 
country,  I  insist  on  it,  and  will  give  him  leave  to  break  my 
bead  that  denies  it — that  the  Scotch  ladies  are  ten  thousand 
tames  finer  and  handsomer  than  the  Irish.  To  be  sure,  now, 
I  see  your  sisters  Betty  and  Peggy  vastly  surprised  at  m> 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  .[] 

partiality — but  tell  them  flatly,  I  don't  value  them — or  tJ 

fine  skins,  or  eyes,  or  good  sense,  or ,  a  potato; — for  I  saj 

and  will  maintain  it;  and  as  a  convincing  proof  (I  am  in  a 
great  passion)  of  what  I  assert,  the  Scotch  ladies  say  it  them- 
selves. But  to  be  less  serious;  where  will  you  find  a  language 
so  prettily  become  a  pretty  mouth  as  the  broad  Scotch? 
the  women  here  speak  it  in  its  highest  purity ;  for  instance. 
teach  one  of  your  young  ladies  at  home  to  pronounce  the 
'Whoarwull  I  gong?' with  a  becoming  widening  of  mouth, 
and  I'll  lay  my  life  they'll  wound  every  hearer. 

' '  We  have  no  such  character  here  as  a  coquet,  but  alas !  how 
many  envious  prudes !  Some  days  ago  I  walked  into  my  Lord 
Kilcoubry's  (don't  be  surprised,  my  lord  is  but  a  glover),*  when 
the  Duchess  of  Hamilton  (that  fair  who  sacrificed  her  beauty 
to  her  ambition,  and  her  inward  peace  to  a  title  and  gilt  equi- 
page) passed  by  in  her  chariot ;  her  battered  husband,  or  more 
properly  the  guardian  of  her  charms,  sat  by  her  side.  Straight 
envy  began,  in  the  shape  of  no  less  than  three  ladies  who  sat 
with  me,  to  find  faults  in  her  faultless  form.  'For  my  part,' 
says  the  first,  'I  think  what  1  always  thought,  that  the  Duch- 
ess has  too  much  of  the  red  in  her  complexion.'  '  Madam,  1 
am  not  of  your  opinion,'  says  the  second ;  '  I  think  her  face  ban 
a  palish  cast  too  much  on  the  delicate  order.'  '  And  let  me  tell 
you, '  added  the  third  lady,  whose  mouth  was  puckered  up  to 
the  size  of  an  issue,  '  that  the  Duchess  has  fine  lips,  but  she 
wants  a  mouth.'  At  this  every  lady  drew  up  her  mouth  as  if 
going  to  pronounce  the  letter  P. 

"But  how  ill,  my  Bob,  does  it  become  me  to  ridicule  women 
with  whom  I  have  scarcely  any  correspondence !  There  are, 
'tis  certain,  handsome  women  here;  and  'tis  certain  they  have 
handsome  men  to  keep  them  company.  An  ugly  and  pooi  : 
man  is  society  only  for  himself;  and  such  society  the  wo 
lets  me  enjoy  in  great  abundance.  Fortune  has  given  you  cir- 
cumstances, and  nature  a  person  to  look  charming  in  the  eyes 
of  the  fair.  Nor  do  I  envy  my  dear  Bob  such  blessings,  while 
I  may  sit  down  and  laugh  at  the  world  and  at  myself — the 
most  ridiculous  object  in  it.  But  you  see  I  am  grown  down- 
right splenetic,  and  perhaps  the  fit  may  continue  till  I  receive 


*  William  Maclellan.  who  claimed  the  title,  and  whose  son  succeeded  in  establish- 
ing the  claim  in  1773.  The  father  is  said  to  have  voted  at  the  election  of  the  six- 
teen Peers  for  Scotland,  and  to  have  sold  gloves  in  the  lobby  at  this  and  other  public 

assemblages. 


42  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

an  answer  to  this.  I  know  you  cannot  send  nie  much  newa 
from  Ballymahon,  but  such  as  it  is,  send  it  all ;  everything  you 
send  will  be  agreeable  to  me. 

' '  Has  George  Conway  put  up  a  sign  yet ;  or  John  Binley  left 
off  drinking  drams;  or  Tom  Allen  got  a  new  wig?  But  I  leave 
you  to  your  own  choice  what  to  write.  While  I  live,  know 
you  have  a  true  friend  in  yours,  etc.,  etc., 

"Oliver  Goldsmith. 

"P.S.  Give  my  sincere  respects  (not  compliments,  do  you 
mind)  to  your  agreeable  family,  and  give  my  service  to  my 
mother,  if  you  see  her ;  for,  as  you  express  it  in  Ireland,  I  have 

a  sneaking  kindness  for  her  still.     Direct  to  me, ,  Student 

in  Physic,  in  Edinburgh." 

Nothing  worthy  of  preservation  appeared  from  his  pen  dur- 
ing his  residence  in  Edinburgh ;  and  indeed  his  poetical  powers, 
highly  as  they  had  been  estimated  by  his  friends,  had  not  as 
yet  produced  anything  of  superior  merit.  He  made  on  one  oc- 
casion a  month's  excursion  to  the  Highlands.  "  I  set  out  the 
first  day  on  foot,"  says  he,  in  a  letter  to  his  uncle  Contarine, 
"but  an  fil-natured  corn  I  have  on  my  toe  has  for  the  future 
prevented  that  cheap  mode  of  travelling;  so  the  second  day  I 
hired  a  horse  about  the  size  of  a  ram,  and  he  walked  away  (trot 
he  could  not)  as  pensive  as  his  master." 

During  his  residence  in  Scotland  his  convivial  talents  gained 
him  at  one  time  attentions  in  a  high  quarter,  which,  however, 
he  had  the  good  sense  to  appreciate  correctly.  ' '  I  have  spent," 
says  he,  in  one  of  his  letters,  "more  than  a  fortnight  every 
second  day  at  the  Duke  of  Hamilton's ;  but  it  seems  they  like 
me  more  as  a  jester  than  as  a  companion,  so  I  disdained  so  ser- 
vile an  employment  as  unworthy  my  calling  as  a  physician." 
Here  we  again  find  the  origin  of  another  passage  in  his  auto- 
biography, under  the  character  of  the  "Man  in  Black,"  where- 
in that  worthy  figures  as  a  flatterer  to  a  great  man.  "At 
first,"  says  he,  "  I  was  surprised  that  the  situation  of  a  flat- 
terer at  a  great  man's  table  could  be  thought  disagreeable; 
there  was  no  great  trouble  in  listening  attentively  when  his 
lordship  spoke,  and  laughing  when  he  looked  round  for  ap- 
plause. This,  even  good  manners -might  have  obliged  me  to 
perform.  I  found,  however,  too  soon,  his  lordship  was  a 
greater  dunce  than  myself,  and  from  that  moment  flattery  was 
at  an  end.     I  now  rather  aimed  at  setting  him  right,  than  at 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  43 

receiving  his  absurdities  with  submission :  to  flatter  those  we 
do  not  know  is  an  easy  task ;  but  to  flatter  our  intimate  ac- 
quaintances, all  whose  foibles  are  strongly  in  our  eyes,  is 
drudgery  insupportable.  Every  time  I  now  opened  my  lips 
hi  praise,  my  falsehood  went  to  my  conscience ;  his  lordship 
soon  perceived  me  to  be  very  unfit  for  his  service:  I  was 
therefore  discharged ;  my  patron  at  the  same  time  being  gra- 
ciously pleased  to  observe  that  he  believed  I  was  tolerably 
good-natured,  and  had  not  the  least  harm  in  me." 

After  spending  two  winters  at  Edinburgh,  Goldsmith  pre 
pared  to  finish  his  medical  studies  on  the  Continent,  for  which 
his  uncle  Contarine  agreed  to  furnish  the  funds.  ' '  I  intend, " 
said  he,  in  a  letter  to  his  uncle,  ' '  to  visit  Paris,  where  the 
great  Farheim,  Petit,  and  Du  Hamel  de  Monceau  instruct 
their  pupils  in  all  the  branches  of  medicine.  They  speak 
French,  and  consequently  I  shall  have  much  the  advantage  of 
most  of  my  countrymen,  as  I  am  perfectly  acquainted  with 
that  language,  and  few  who  leave  Ireland  are  so.  I  shall 
spend  the  spring  and  summer  in  Paris,  and  the  beginning  of 
next  winter  go  to  Leyden.  The  great  Albinus  is  still  alive 
there,  and  'twill  be  proper  to  go,  though  only  to  have  it  said 
that  we  have  studied  in  so  famous  a  university. 

"  As  I  shall  not  have  another  opportunity  of  receiving  money 
from  your  bounty  till  my  return  to  Ireland,  so  I  have  drawn 
for  the  last  sum  that  I  hope  I  shall  ever  trouble  you  for ;  'tis 
£20.  And  now,  dear  sir,  let  me  here  acknowledge  the  humility 
of  the  station  in  which  you  found  me ;  let  me  tell  how  I  was 
despised  by  most,  and  hateful  to  myself.  Poverty,  hopeless 
poverty,  was  mv  lot,  and  Melancholy  was  beginning  to  make 
me  her  own.  "When  you— but  I  stop  here,  to  inquire  how  your 
health  goes  on?  How  does  my  cousin  Jenny,  and  has  she  re- 
covered her  late  complaint?  How  does  my  poor  Jack  Gold- 
smith? I  fear  his  disorder  is  of  such  a  nature  as  he  won't 
easily  recover.  I  wish,  my  dear  sir,  you  would  make  me 
happy  by  another  letter  before  I  go  abroad,  for  there  I  shall 
hardly  hear  from  you.  .  .  .  Give  my — how  shall  I  express  it  ? 
Give  my  earnest  love  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lawder." 

Mrs.  Lawder  was  Jane,  his  early  playmate — the  object  of 
his  valentine— his  first  poetical  inspiration.  She  had  been 
for  some  time  married. 

Medical  instruction,  it  will  be  perceived,  was  the  ostensible 
motive  for  this  visit  to  the  Continent,  but  the  real  one,  in  all 
probability,  was  his  long-cherished  desire  to  see  foreign  parts. 


44  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

This,  however,  he  would  not  acknowledge  even  to  himself,  but 
sought  to  reconcile  his  roving  propensities  with  some  grand 
moral  purpose.  ' '  I  esteem  the  traveller  who  instructs  the 
heart,"  says  he,  in  one  of  his  subsequent  writings,  "but  despise 
him  who  only  indulges  the  imagination.  A  man  who  leaves 
home  to  mend  himself  and  others  is  a  philosopher ;  but  he  who 
goes  from  country  to  country,  guided  by  the  blind  impulse  of 
curiosity,  is  only  a  vagabond. "  He,  of  course,  was  to  travel  as 
a  philosopher,  and  in  truth  his  outfits  for  a  continental  tour 
were  in  character.  "I  shall  carry  just  £33  to  France, "  said  he, 
"with  good  store  of  clothes,  .shirts,  etc.,  and  that  with 
economy  will  suffice."  He  forgot  to  make  mention  of  his  flute, 
winch  it  will  be  found  had  occasionally  to  come  in  play  when 
economy  could  not  replenish  bis  purse,  nor  philosophy  find 
him  a  supper.  Thus  slenderly  provided  with  money,  pru- 
dence, or  experience,  and  almost  as  slightly  guarded  against 
"hard  knocks"  as  the  hero  of  La  Mancha,  whose  head -piece 
was  half  iron,  half-pasteboard,  he  made  his  final  sally  forth 
upon  the  world ;  hoping  all  things ;  believing  all  things :  little 
anticipating  the  checkered  ills  in  store  for  him;  little  thinking 
when  he  penned  Iris  valedictory  letter  to  his  good  uncle  Conta- 
rine,  that  he  was  never  to  see  him  more;  never  to  return  after 
all  his  wandering  to  the  friend  of  his  infancy;  never  to  revisit 
his  early  and  fondly-remembered  haunts  at  "sweet  Lissoy" 
and  Ballymahon. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  AGREEABLE  FELLOW  •  PASSENGERS —  RISKS  FROM  FRIENDS 
TICKED  UP  BY  THE  WAYSIDE — SKETCHES  OF  HOLLAND  AND 
THE  DUTCH— SHIFTS  WHILE  A  POOR  STUDENT  AT  LEYDEN— 
THE  TULIP  SPECULATION — THE  PROVIDENT  FLUTE— SOJOURN 
AT  PARIS— SKETCH  OF  VOLTAIRE — TRAVELLING  SHIFTS  OF  A 
PHILOSOPHIC    VAGABOND. 

His  usual  indiscretion  attended  Goldsmith  at  the  very  outset 
of  his  foreign  enterprise.  He  had  intended  to  take  shipping  at 
Leith  for  Holland;  but  on  arriving  at  that  pert  he  found  a  ship 
;  in. nt  to  sad  for  Bordeaux,  with  six  agreeable  passengers, 
whose  acquaintance  li°  had  probably  made  at  the  inn.    He  was 


OLIVER    GOLDSMITH.  45 

not  a  man  to  resist  a  sudden  impulse;  so,  instead  of  embarking 
for  Holland,  he  found  himself  ploughing  the  seas  on  his  way  to 
the  other  side  of  the  Continent.  Scarcely  had  the  ship  been 
two  days  at  sea,  when  she  was  driven  by  stress  of  weather  to 
Newcastle-upon-Tyne.  Here  "of  course"  Goldsmith  and  his 
agreeable  fellow-passengers  found  it  expedient  to  go  on  shore 
and  "refresh  themselves  after  the  fatigues  of  the  voyage." 
"Of  course"  they  frolicked  and  made  merry  until  a  late  hour 
in  the  evening,  when,  in  the  midst  of  their  hilarity,  the  door 
was  burst  open,  and  a  sergeant  and  twelve  grenadiers  entered 
with  fixed  bayonets,  and  took  the  whole  convivial  party  pri- 
soners. 

It  seems  that  the  agreeable  companions  with  whom  our 
greenhorn  bad  struck  up  such  a  sudden  intimacy  were  Scotch- 
men in  the  French  service,  who  had  been  in  Scotland  enlisting 
recruits  for  the  French  army. 

In  vain  Goldsmith  protested  his  innocence ;  he  was  marched 
off  with  his  fellow-revellers  to  prison,  whence  he  with  diffi- 
culty obtained  his  release  at  the  end  of  a  fortnight.  With  his 
customary  facility,  however,  at  palliating  his  misadventures, 
he  found  everything  turn  out  for  the  best.  His  imprison- 
ment saved  his  life,  for  during  his  detention  the  ship  proceeded 
on  her  voyage,  but  was  wrecked  at  the  mouth  of  the  Garonne, 
and  all  on  board  perished. 

Goldsmith's  second  embarkation  was  for  Holland  direct,  and 
in  nine  days  he  arrived  at  Rotterdam,  whence  he  proceeded, 
without  anymore  deviations,  to  Leyden.  He  gives  a  whimsical 
picture,  in  one  of  his  letters,  of  the  appearance  of  the  Holland- 
ers. "The  modern  Dutchman  is  quite  a  different  creature 
•from  him  of  former  "times :  he  in  every  thing  imitates  a  French- 
man but  in  his  easy,  disengaged  air.  He  is  vastly  ceremonious, 
and  is,  perhaps,  exactly  what  a  Frenchman  might  have  been 
in  the  reign  of  Louis  XIV.  Such  are  the  better  bred.  But  the 
downright  Hollander  is  one  of  the  oddest  figures  in  nature. 
Upon  a  lank  head  of  hair  he  wears  a  half-cocked  narrow  hat, 
laced  with  black  riband;  no  coat,  but  seven  waistcoats  and 
nine  pah-  of  breeches,  so  that  his  hips  reach  up  almost  to  his 
armpits.  This  well-clothed  vegetable  is  now  fit  to  see  company 
or  make  love.  But  what  a  pleasing  creature  is  the  object  of 
his  appetite !  why,  she  wears  a  large  fur  cap,  with  a  deal  of 
Flanders  lace ;  and  for  every  pair  of  breeches  he  carries,  she 
puts  on  two  petticoats. 

"A  Dutch  lady  burns  nothing  about  her  phlegmatic  admirer 


46  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

but  his  tobacco.  You  must  know,  sir,  every  woman  carries  in 
her  hand  a  stove  of  coals,  which,  when  she  sits,  she  snugs 
under  her  petticoats,  and  at  this  chimney  dozing  Strephon 
lights  his  pipe." 

In  the  same  letter  he  contrasts  Scotland  and  Holland, 
"There  hills  and  rocks  intercept  every  prospect;  here  it  is 
all  a  continued  plain.  There  you  might  see  a  well-dressed 
Duchess  issuing  from  a  dirty  close,  and  here  a  dirty  Dutchman 
inhabiting  a  palace.  TI13  Scotch  may  be  compared  to  a  tulip, 
planted  in  dung ;  but  I  can  never  see  a  Dutchman  in  his  own 
house  but  I  think  of  a  magnificent  Egyptian  temple  dedicated 
to  an  ox." 

The  country  itself  awakened  bis  admiration.  "Nothing,"1 
said  he,  ' '  can  equal  its  beauty ;  wherever  I  turn  my  eyes,  fine 
houses,  elegant  gardens,  statues,  grottoes,  vistas,  present  them- 
selves :  but  when  you  enter  their  towns  you  are  charmed  be- 
yond description.  No  misery  is  to  be  seen  here ;  every  one  is 
usefully  employed."  And  again,  in  his  noble  description  in 
"The  Traveller:" 

"  To  men  of  other  minds  my  fancy  flies, 
Imbosom'd  in  the  deep  where  Holland  lies. 
Methinks  her  patient  sons  before  me  stand, 
Where  the  broad  ocean  leans  against  the  land, 
And.  sedulous  to  stop  the  coming  tide, 
Lift  the  tall  rampire's  artificial  pride. 
Onward,  methinks,  and  diligently  slow, 
The  firm  connected  bulwark  seems  to  grow; 
Spreads  its  long  arms  amid  the  watery  roar, 
Scoops  out  an  empire,  and  usurps  the  shore. 
While  the  pent  ocean,  rising  o'er  the  pile, 
Sees  an  amphibious  world  before  him  smile; 
The  slow  canal,  the  yellow  blossom'd  vale, 
The  willow-tufted  bank,  the  gliding  sail. 
The  crowded  mart,  the  cultivated  plain, 
A  new  creation  rescued  from  his  reign." 

He  remained  about  a  year  at  Leyden,  attending  the  lectures 
of  Gaubius  on  chemistry  and  Albinus  on  anatomy;  though  his 
studies  are  said  to  have  been  miscellaneous,  and  directed  to 
literature  rather  than  science.  The  thirty-three  pounds  with 
which  he  had  set  out  on  his  travels  were  soon  consumed,  and 
he  was  put  to  many  a  shift  to  meet  his  expenses  until  his  pre- 
carious remittances  should  arrive.  He  had  a  good  friend  on 
these  occasions  in  a  fellow-student  and  countryman,  named 
Ellis,  who  afterward  rose  to  eminence  as  a  physician.  He 
used  frequently  to  loan  small  sums  to  Goldsmith,  which  were 
lways  scrupulously  paid.     Ellis  discovered  the  innate  merits 


\ 


OLIVER  Q  OLD  SMITH.  47 

of  the  poor  awkward  student,  and  used  to  declare  in  after  life 
that  it  was  a  common  remark  in  Ley  den,  that  in  all  the  pecu- 
liarities of  Goldsmith,  an  elevation  of  mind  was  to  be  noted;  a 
philosophical  tone  and  manner;  the  feelings  of  a  gentleman, 
and  the  language  and  information  of  a  scholar." 

Sometimes,  in  his  emergencies,  Goldsmith  undertook  to 
teach  the  English  language.  It  is  true  he  was  ignorant  of 
the  Dutch,  but  he  had  a  smattering  of  the  French,  picked 
up  among  the  Irish  priests  at  Ballymahon.  He  depicts  his 
whimsical  embarrassment  in  this  respect,  in  his  account  in 
the  Vicar  of  Wakefield  of  the  philosophical  vagabond  who 
went  to  Holland  to  teach  the  natives  English,  without  know- 
ing a  word  of  their  own  language.  Sometimes,  when  sorely 
pinched,  and  sometimes,  perhaps,  when  flush,  he  resorted  to 
the  gambling  tables,  which  in  those  days  abounded  in  Holland. 
His  good  friend  Ellis  repeatedly  warned  him  against  this  un- 
fortunate propensity,  but  in  vain.  It  brought  its  own  cure,  or 
rather  its  own  punishment,  by  stripping  him  of  every  shilling. 

Ellis  once  more  stepped  in  to  his  relief  with  a  true  Irishman's 
generosity,  but  with  more  considerateness  than  generally  char- 
acterizes an  Irishman,  for  he  only  granted  pecuniary  aid  on 
condition  of  his  quitting  the  sphere  of  danger.  Goldsmith 
gladly  consented  to  leave  Holland,  being  anxious  to  visit  other 
parts.  He  intended  to  proceed  to  Paris  and  pursue  his  studies 
there,  and  was  furnished  by  his  friend  with  money  for  the 
journey.  Unluckily,  he  rambled  into  the  garden  of  a  florist 
just  before  quitting  Leyden.  The  tulip  mania  was  still  preva- 
lent in  Holland,  and  some  species  of  that  splendid  flower 
brought  immense  prices.  In  wandering  through  the  garden 
Goldsmith  recollected  that  his  uncle  Contarine  was  a  tulip 
fancier.  The  thought  suddenly  struck  him  that  here  was  an 
opportunity  of  testifying,  in  a  delicate  manner,  his  sense  of 
that  generous  uncle's  past  kindnesses.  In  an  instant  his  hand 
was  in  his  pocket ;  a  number  of  choice  and  costly  tulip-roots 
were  purchased  and  packed  up  for  Mr.  Contarine ;  and  it  was 
i  not  until  he  had  paid  for  them  that  he  bethought  himself  that 
he  had  spent  all  the  money  borrowed  for  his  travelling  ex- 
penses. Too  proud,  however,  to  give  up  his  journey,  and  too 
shamefaced  to  make  another  appeal  to  his  friend's  liberality, 
he  determined  to  travel  on  foot,  and  depend  upon  chance  and 
good  luck  for  the  means  of  getting  forward ;  and  it  is  said  that 
he  actually  set  off  on  a  tour  of  the  Continent,  in  February, 
1755,  with  but  one  spare  shirt,  a  flute,  and  a  single  guinea. 


43  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

"  Blessed,"  says  one  of  Lis  biographers,  "  with  a  good  consti- 
tution, an  adventurous  spirit,  and  with  that  thoughtless,  or, 
perhaps,  happy  disposition  which  takes  no  cai'e  for  to-morrow, 
he  continued  his  travels  for  a  long  time  in  spite  of  innumerable 
privations."  In  his  amusing  narrative  of  the  adventures  of  a 
"Philosophic  Vagabond"  in  the  "Vicar  of  Wakefield,"  we 
find  shadowed  out  the  expedients  he  pursued.  "I  had  some 
knowledge  of  music,  with  a  tolerable  voice;  I  now  turned 
what  was  once  my  amusement  into  a  present  means  of  sub- 
sistence. I  passed  among  the  harmless  peasants  of  Flanders, 
and  among  such  of  the  French  as  were  poor  enough  to  be  very 
merry,  for  I  ever  found  them  sprightly  in  proportion  to  their 
wants.  Whenever  I  approached  a  peasant's  house  toward 
nightfall,  I  played  one  of  my  merriest  tunes,  and  that  pro- 
cured me  not  only  a  lodging,  but  subsistence  for  the  next  day ; 
but  in  truth  I  must  own,  whenever  I  attempted  to  entertain 
persons  of  a  higher  rank,  they  always  thought  my  perform- 
ance odious,  and  never  made  me  any  return  for  my  endeavors 
to  please  them. " 

At  Paris  he  attended  the  chemical  lectures  of  Eouelle,  then 
in  great  vogue,  where  he  says  he  witnessed  as  blight  a  circle 
of  beauty  as  graced  the  court  of  Versailles.  His  love  of 
theatricals,  also,  led  him  to  attend  the  performances  of  the 
celebrated  actress  Mademoiselle  Clairon,  with  which  he  was 
greatly  delighted.  He  seems  to  have  looked  upon  the  state  of 
sixiety  with  the  eye  of  a  philosopher,  but  to  have  read  the 
signs  of  the  times  with  the  prophetic  eye  of  a  poet.  In  his 
rambles  about  the  environs  of  Paris  he  was  struck  with  the 
immense  quantities  of  game  running  about  almost  in  a  tame 
state;  and  saw  in  those  costly  and  rigid  preserves  for  the 
amusement  and  luxury  of  the  privileged  few  a  sure  ' '  badge  of 
the  slavery  of  the  people."  This  slavery  he  predicted  was 
drawing  toward  a  close.  "When  I  consider  that  these  parlia- 
ments, the  members  of  which  are  all  created  by  the  court,  and 
the  presidents  of  which  can  only  act  by  immediate  direction, 
presume  even  to  mention  privileges  and  freedom,  who  till  of 
late  received  directions  from  the  throne  with  implicit  humi- 
lity; when  this  is  considered,  I  cannot  help  fancying  that  the 
genius  of  Freedom  has  entered  that  kingdom  in  disguise.  If 
they  have  but  three  weak  monarchs  more  successively  on  the 
throne,  the  mask  will  be  laid  aside,  and  the  country  will 
certainly  once  more  be  free,"  Events  have  testified  to  the 
sage  forecast  of  the  poet. 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  49 

During  a  brief  sojourn  in  Pa  lis  he  appears  to  have  gained 
access  to  valuable  society,  and  to  have  had  the  honor  and 
pleasure  of  making  the  acquaintance  of  Voltaire;  of  whom,  in 
after  years,  he  wrote  a  memoir.  "Asa  companion,"  says  he, 
"  no  man  ever  exceeded  him  when  he  pleased  to  lead  the  con- 
versation; which,  however,  was  not  always  the  case.  In  com 
pany  which  he  either  disliked  or  despised,  few  could  be  more 
reserved  than  he;  but  when  he  was  warmed  in  discourse,  and 
got  over  a  hesitating  manner,  which  sometimes  he  was  subject 
to,  it  was  rapture  to  hear  him.  His  meagre  visage  seemed 
insensibly  to  gather  beauty :  every  muscle  in  it  had  meaning, 
and  his  eye  beamed  with  unusual  brightness.  The  person  who 
writes  this  memoir,"  continues  he,  "remembers  to  have  seen 
him  in  a  select  company  of  wits  of  both  se'xes  at  Paris,  when 
the  subject  happened  to  turn  upon  English  taste  and  learning. 
Pontenelle  (then  nearly  a  hundred  years  old),  who  was  of  the 
party,  and  who  being  unacquainted  with  the  language  or  au- 
thors of  the  country  he  undertook  to  condemn,  with  a  spirit 
truly  vulgar  began  to  revile  both.  Diderot,  who  liked  the 
English,  and  knew  something  of  their  literary  pretensions, 
attempted  to  vindicate  their  poetry  and  learning,  but  with 
unequal  abilities.  The  company  quickly  perceived  that  Fonte- 
nelle  was  superior  in  the  dispute,  and  were  surprised  at  the 
silence  which  Voltaire  had  preserved  all  the  former  part  of  the 
night,  particularly  as  the  conversation  happened  to  turn  upon 
one  of  his  favorite  topics.  Fontenelle  continued  his  triumph 
until  about  twelve  o'clock,  when  Voltaire  appeared  at  last 
roused  from  his  reverie.  His  whole  frame  seemed  animated. 
He  began  his  defence  with  the  utmost  defiance  mixed  with 
spirit,  and  now  and  then  let  fall  the  finest  strokes  of  raillery 
upon  his  antagonist ;  and  his  harangue  lasted  till  three  in  the 
morning.  I  must  confess  that,  whether  from  national  par- 
tiality or  from  the  elegant  sensibility  of  his  manner,  1  never 
was  so  charmed,  nor  did  I  ever  remember  so  absolute  a  victory 
as  he  gained  in  this  dispute."  Goldsmith's  ramblings  took  him 
into  Germany  and  Switzerland,  from  which  last  mentioned 
country  he  sent  to  his  brother  in  Ireland  the  first  brief  sketch, 
afterward  amplified  into  his  poem  of  the  "Traveller." 

At  Geneva  he  became  travelling  tutor  to  a  mongrel  young 
gentleman,  son  of  a  London  pawnbroker,  who  had  been  sud- 
denly elevated  into  fortune  and  absurdity  by  the  death  of  an 
uncle.  The  youth,  before  setting  up  for  a  gentleman,  had  been 
an  attorney's  apprentice,  and  was  an  arrant  pettifogger  in 


50  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

money  matters.  Never  were  two  beings  more  illy  assorted 
than  lie  and  Goldsmith.  We  may  form  an  idea  of  the  tutor 
and  the  pupil  from  the  following  extract  from  the  narrative  of 
the  "  Philosophic  Vagabond." 

"I  was  to  be  the  young  gentleman's  governor,  but  with  a 
proviso  that  he  should  always  be  permitted  to  govern  himself. 
My  pupil,  in  fact,  understood  the  art  of  guiding  in  money  con- 
cerns much  better  than  I.  He  was  heir  to  a  fortune  of  about 
two  hundred  thousand  pounds,  left  him  by  an  uncle  in  the  West 
Indies ;  and  his  guardians,  to  qualify  him  for  the  management  of 
it  had  bound  him  apprentice  to  an  attorney.  Thus  avarice  was 
his  prevailing  passion ;  all  his  questions  on  the  road  were  how 
money  might  be  saved— which  was  the  least  expensive  course 
of  travel— whether  anything  could  be  bought  that  would  turn 
to  account  when  disposed  of  again  in  London.  Such  curiosities 
on  the  way  as  could  be  seen  for  nothing  he  was  ready  enough 
to  look  at;  but  if  the  sight  of  them 'was  to  be  paid  for,  he 
usually  asserted  that  he  had  -been  told  that  they  were  not 
worth  seeing.  He  never  paid  a  bill  that  he  would  not  observe 
how  amazingly  expensive  travelling  was ;  and  all  this  though 
not  yet  twenty-one." 

In  this  sketch  Goldsmith  undoubtedly  shadows  forth  his  an- 
noyances as  travelling  tutor  to  this  concrete  young  gentleman, 
compounded  of  the  pawnbroker,  the  pettifogger,  and  the  West 
Indian  heir,  with  an  overlaying  of  the  city  miser.  They  had 
continual  difficulties  on  all  points  of  expense  until  they  reached 
Marseilles,  where  both  were  glad  to  separate. 

Once  more  on  foot,  but  freed  from  the  irksome  duties  of 
"bear  leader,"  and  with  some  of  his  pay,  as  tutor,  in  his 
pocket,  Goldsmith  continued  his  half-vagrant  peregrinations 
through  part  of  France  and  Piedmont,  and  some  of  the  Italian 
States.  He  had  acquired,  as  has  been  shown,  a  habit  of  shift- 
ing along  and  living  by  expedients,  and  a  new  one  presented 
itself  in  Italy.  ' '  My  skill  in  music, "  says  he,  in  the  Philosophic 
Vagabond,  "  could  avail  me  nothing  in  a  country  where  every 
peasant  was  a  better  musician  than  I;  but  by  this  time  I  had 
acquired  another  talent,  which  answered  my  purpose  as  well, 
and  this  was  a  skill  in  disputation.  In  all  the  foreign  univer- 
sities and  convents  there  are,  upon  certain  days,  philosophical 
theses  maintained  against  every -adventitious  disputant;  for 
which,  if  the  champion  opposes  with  any  dexterity,  he  can 
claim  a  gratuity  in  money,  a  dinner,  and  a  bed  for  one  night." 
Though  a   poor  wandering    scholar,   his    reception   in   these 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  51 

learned  piles  was  as  free  from  humiliation  as  in  the  cottages  of 
the  peasantry.  "  With  the  members  of  these  establishments,'' 
said  he,  "I  could  converse  on  topics  of  literature,  and  then  I 
always  forgot  the  meanness  of  my  circumstances.'1'1 

At  Padua,  where  he  remained  some  months,  he  is  said  to 
have  taken  his  medical  degree.  It  is  probable  he  was  brought 
to  a  pause  in  this  city  by  the  death  of  his  uncle  Contarine,  who 
had  hitherto  assisted  him  in  his  wanderings  by  occasional, 
though,  of  course,  slender  remittances.  Deprived  of  this  source 
of  supplies,  he  wrote  to  his  friends  in  Ireland,  and  especially  to 
his  brother-in-law,  Hod  son,  describing  his  destitute  situation. 
His  letters  brought  him  neither  money  nor  reply.  It  appears 
from  subsequent  correspondence  that  his  brother-in-law  actu- 
ally exerted  himself  to  raise  a  subscription  for  his  assistance 
among  his  relatives,  friends,  and  acquaintance,  but  without 
success.  Their  faith  and  hope  in  him  were  most  probably  at 
an  end ;  as  yet  he  had'  disappointed  them  at  every  point,  he 
had  given  none  of  the  anticipated  proofs  of  talent,  and  they 
were  too  poor  to  support  what  they  may  have  considered  the 
wandering  propensities  of  a  heedless  spendthrift. 

Thus  left  to  his  own  precarious  resources,  Goldsmith  gave 
up  all  further  wandering  in  Italy,  without  visiting  the  south, 
though  Rome  and  Naples  must  have  held  out  powerful  attrac- 
tions to  one  of  his  poetical  cast.  Once  more  resuming  his  pil- 
grim staff,  he  turned  his  face  toward  England,  "walking  along 
from  city  to  city,  examining  mankind  more  nearly,  and  seeing 
both  sides  of  the  picture."  In  traversing  France  his  flute  — 
his  magic  flute ! — was  once  more  in  requisition,  as  we  may  con- 
clude, by  the  following  passage  in  his  Traveller : 

"  Gay,  sprightly  land  of  mirth  and  social  ease, 
Pleased  with  thyself,  whom  all  the  world  can  please, 
How  often  have  I  led  thy  sportive  choir 
With  tuneless  pipe  beside  the  murmuring  Loire! 
Where  shading  elms  along  the  margin  grew, 
And  freshened  from  the  wave  the  zephyr  flew; 
And  haply  thousrh  my  harsh  note  fait 'ring  still, 
But  mocked  all  tune,  and  marr'd  the  dancer's  skill; 
Yet  would  the  village  praise  my  wondrous  power, 
And  dance  forgetful  of  the  noontide  hour. 
Alike  all  ages:  Dames  of  ancient  days 
Have  led  their  children  through  the  mirthful  maze, 
And  the  gay  grandsire,  skill'd  in  gestic  lore, 
Has  frisk'd  beneath  the  burden  of  three-score." 


52  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

LANDING  IN  ENGLAND— SHIFTS  OF  A  MAN  WITHOUT  MONEY— THE 
PESTLE  AND  MORTAR— THEATRICALS  IN  A  BARN— LAUNCH  UPON 
LONDON— A  CITY  NIGHT  SCENE— STRUGGLES  WITH  PENURY- 
MISERIES  OF  A  TUTOR — A  DOCTOR  IN  THE  SUBURB — POOR  PRAC- 
TICE AND  SECOND-HAND  FINERY — A  TRAGEDY  IN  EMBRYO— PRO- 
JECT OF  THE  WRITTEN  MOUNTAINS. 

After  two  years  spent  in  roving  about  the  Continent,  ' '  pur- 
suing novelty,"  as  he  said,  "and  losing  content,"  Goldsmith 
landed  at  Dover  early  in  1756.  He  appears  to  have  had  no 
definite  plan  of  action.  The  death  of  his  uncle  Contarine,  and 
the  neglect  of  his  relatives  and  friends  to  reply  to  his  letters, 
seem  to  have  produced  in  him  a  temporary  feeling  of  loneli- 
ness and  destitution,  and  his  only  thought  was  to  get  to  Lon- 
don and  throw  himself  upon  the  world.  But  how  was  he  to 
get  there?  His  purse  was  empty.  England  was  to  him  as 
completely  a  foreign  land  as  any  part  of  the  Continent,  and 
where  on  earth  is  a  penniless  stranger  more  destitute?  His 
fhite  and  his  philosophy  were  no  longer  of  any  avail ;  the  Eng- 
lish boors  cared  nothing  for  music ;  there  were  no  convents ; 
and  as  to  the  learned  and  the  clergy,  not  one  of  them  would 
give  a  vagrant  scholar  a  supper  and  night's  lodging  for  the  best 
thesis  that  ever  was  argued.  "You  may  easily  imagine," 
says  he,  in  a  subsequent  letter  to  his  brother-in-law,  ''what 
difficulties  I  had  to  encounter,  left  as  I  was  without  friends, 
recommendations,  money,  or  impudence,  and  that  in  a  country 
where  being  born  an  Irishman  was  sufficient  to  keep  me  un- 
employed. Many,  in  such  circumstances,  would  have  had 
recourse  to  the  friar's  cord  or  the  suicide's  halter.  But,  with 
all  my  follies,  I  had  principle  to  resist  the  one,  and  resolution 
to  combat  the  other." 

He  applied  at  one  place,  we  are  told,  for  employment  in  the 
shop  of  a  country  apothecary;  but  all  his  medical  science 
gathered  in  foreign  universities  could  not  gain  him  the  man- 
agement of  a  pestle  and  mortar.  ""He  even  resorted,  it  is  said, 
to  the  stage  as  a  temporary  expedient,  and  figm-ed  in  low  com- 
edy at  a  country  town  in  Kent.  This  accords  with  his  last 
shift  of  the  Philosophic  Vagabond,  and  with  the  knowledge  of 


OLIVER  Q0LD8MITM.  ,7,i 

country  theatricals  displayed  in  his  "Adventures  of  a  Stroll- 
ing Player,"  or  may  he  a  story  suggested  by  them.  All  this 
part  of  his  career,  however,  in  which  he  must  have  trod  the 
lowest  paths  of  humility,  are  only  to  be  conjectured  from 
vague  traditions,  or  scraps  of  autobiography  gleaned  from  his 
miscellaneous  writings. 

At  length  we  find  him  launched  on  the  great  metropolis,  or 
rathe?  drifting  about  its  streets,  at  night,  in  the  gloomy  month 
of  February,  with  but  a  few  half -pence  in  his  pocket.  The 
deserts  of  Arabia  are  not  more  dreary  and  inhospitable  than 
the  streets  of  London  at  such  a  time,  and  to  a  stranger  in  such 
a  plight.  Do  we  want  a  picture  as  an  illustration?  "We  have 
it  in  his  own  words,  and  furnished,  doubtless,  from  his  own 
experience. 

"The  clock  has  just  struck  two;  what  a  gloom  hangs  all 
around!  no  sound  is  heard  but  of  the  chiming  clock,  or  the 
distant  watch-dog.  How  few  appear  in  those  streets,  which 
but  some  few  hours  ago  were  crowded!  But  who  are  those 
who  make  the  streets  their  couch,  and  find  a  short  repose 
from  wretchedness  at  the  doors  of  the  opulent?  They  are 
strangers,  wanderers,  and  orphans,  whose  circumstances  are 
too  humble  to  expect  redress,  and  whose  distresses  are  too 
great  even  for  pity.  Some  are  without  the  covering  even  of 
rags,  and  others  emaciated  with  disease;  the  world  has  dis- 
claimed them;  society  turns  its  back  upon  their  distress,  and 
has  given  them  up  to  nakedness  and  hunger.  These  poor  skiv- 
ering femades  have  once  seen  happier  days,  and  been  flattered 
into  I 'i  mity.  They  are  now  turned  out  to  meet  the  severity  of 
winter.  Perhaps  now,  lying  at  the  doors  of  their  betrayers, 
they  sue  to  wretches  whose  hearts  are  insensible,  or  debau- 
chees who  may  curse,  but  will  not  relieve  them. 

"Why.  why  was  I  bom  a  man,  and  yet  see  the  sufferings  of 
wretches  I  cannot  relieve!  Poor  houseless  creatures!  The 
world  will  give  you  reproaches,  but  will  not  give  you  relief." 

Poor  houseless  Goldsmith !  we  may  here  ejaculate — to  what 
shifts  he  must  have  been  driven  to  find  shelter  and  sustenance 
for  himself  in  this  his  first  venture  into  London!  Many  years 
afterward,  in  the  days  of  his  social  elevation,  he  startled  a 
polite  circle  at  Sir  Joshua  Eeynolds's  by  humorously  dating  an 
anecdote  about  the  time  he  "lived  among  the  beggars  of  Axe 
Lane."  Such  may  have  been  the  desolate  quarters  with  which 
he  was  faiii  to  content  himself  when  thus  adrift  upon  the  town, 
with  but  a  few  half-pence  in  his  pocket. 


54  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

The  first  authentic  trace  we  have  of  him  in  this  new  part  of 
liis  career,  is  filling  the  situation  of  aa  usher  to  a  school,  and 
even  this  employ  he  obtained  with  some  difficulty,  after  a  ref- 
erence for  a  character  to  his  friends  in  the  University  of  Dub- 
lin. In  the  Vicar  of  Wakefield  he  makes  George  Primrose 
undergo  a  whimsical  catechism  concerning  the  requisites  for  an 
usher.  "Have  you  been  bred  apprentice  to  the  business?'' 
"No."  "  Then  you  won't  do  for  a  school.  Can  you  dress  the 
boys' hair?"  "No."  " Then  you  won't  do  for  a  school.  Can 
you  he  three  in  a  bed  ?"  ' '  No. "  ' '  Then  you  will  never  do  for 
a  school.  Have  you  a  good  stomach?"  "Yes."  "Then  you 
will  by  no  means  do  for  a  school.  I  have  been  an  usher  in  a 
boarding-school  myself,  and  may  I  die  of  an  anodyne  necklace, 
but  I  had  rather  be  under-turnkey  at  Newgate.  I  was  up 
early  and  late;  I  was  browbeat  by  the  master,  hated  for  my 
ugly  face  by  the  mistress,  worried  by  the  boys." 

Goldsmith  remained  but  a  short  time  in  this  situation,  and 
to  the  mortifications  experienced  there,  we  doubtless  owe  the 
picturings  given  in  his  writings  of  the  hardships  of  an  usher's 
life.  "He  is  generally,"  says  he,  "the  laughing-stock  of  the 
school.  Every  trick  is  played  upon  him;  the  oddity  of  his 
manner,  his  dress,  or  his  language,  is  a  fund  of  eternal  ridi- 
cule; the  master  himself  now  and  then  cannot  avoid  joining  in 
the  laugh;  and  the  poor  wretch,  eternally  resenting  this  ill 
usage,  lives  in  a  state  of  war  with  all  the  family." — "He  is 
obliged,  perhaps,  to  sleep  in  the  same  bed  with  the  French 
teacher,  who  disturbs  him  for  an  hour  every  night  in  papering 
and  filleting  his  hair,  and  stinks  worse  than  a  carrion  with  his 
rancid  pomatums,  when  he  lays  his  head  beside  him  on  the 
bolster." 

His  next  shift  was  as  assistant  in  the  laboratory  of  a  chemist 
near  Fish  Street  Hill.  After  remaining  here  a  few  months,  he 
heard  that  Dr.  Sleigh,  who  had  been  his  friend  and  fellow 
student  at  Edinburgh,  was  in  London.  Eager  to  meet  with  a 
friendly  face  in  this  land  of  strangers,  he  immediately  called 
on  him;  "but  though  it  was  Sunday,  and  it  is  to  be  supposed  I 
was  in  my  best  clothes,  Sleigh  scarcely  knew  me— such  is  the 
tax  the  unfortunate  pay  to  poverty.  However,  when  he  did 
recollect  me,  I  found  his  heart  as  warm  as  ever,  and  he  shared 
his  purse  and  friendship  with~me  during  his  continuance  in 
London. " 

Through  the  advice  and  assistance  of  Dr.  Sleigh,  he  now 
commenced  the  practice  of  medicine,  but  in  a  small  way,  in 


OLIVER   Li  OLD  SMITH.  55 

Bankside,  South wark,  and  chiefly  among  the  poor;  for  he 
wanted  the  figure,  address,  polish,  and  management,  to  succeed 
among  the  rich.  His  old  schoolmate  and  college  companion, 
Beatty,  who  used  to  aid  him  with  his  purse  at  the  university, 
met  him  about  this  time,  decked  out  in  the  tarnished  finery  of 
a  second-hand  suit  of  green  and  gold,  with  a  shirt  and  neck- 
cloth of  a  fortnight's  wear. 

Poor  Goldsmith  endeavored  to  assume  a  prosperous  air  in 
the  eyes  of  his  early  associate.  "He  was  practising  physic," 
he  said,  "and  doing  very  well!"  At  this  moment  poverty  was 
pinching  him  to  the  bone  in  spite  of  his  practice  and  his  dirty 
finery.  His  fees  were  necessarily  small,  and  ill  paid,  and  he 
was  fain  to  seek  some  precarious  assistance  from  his  pen. 
Here  his  quondam  fellow-student,  Dr.  Sleigh,  was  again  of 
service,  introducing  him  to  some  of  the  booksellers,  who  gave 
him  occasional,  though  starveling,  employment.  According  to 
tradition,  however,  his  most  efficient  patron  just  now  was  a 
journeyman  printer,  one  of  his  poor  patients  of  Bankside,  who 
had  formed  a  good  opinion  of  his  talents,  and  perceived  his 
poverty  and  his  literary  sliif  ts.  The  printer  was  in  the  employ 
of  Mr.  Samuel  Richardson,  the  author  of  Pamela,  Clarissa,  and 
Sir  Charles  Grandison;  who  combined  the  novelist  and  the 
publisher,  and  was  in  nourishing  circumstances.  Through  the 
journeyman's  intervention  Goldsmith  is  said  to  have  become 
acquainted  with  Richardson,  who  employed  him  as  reader  and 
corrector  of  the  press,  at  his  printing  establishment  in  Salis- 
bury Court ;  an  occupation  which  he  alternated  with  his  medi- 
cal duties. 

Being  admitted  occasionally  to  Richardson's  parlor,  he  began 
to  form  literary  acquaintances,  among  whom  the  most  impor- 
tant was  Dr.  Young,  the  author  of  Night  Thoughts,  a  poem  in 
the  height  of  fashion.  It  is  not  probable,  however,  that  much 
familiarity  took  place  at  the  time  between  the  literary  lion  of 
the  day  and  the  poor  iEsculapius  of  Bankside,  the  humble  cor- 
rector of  the  press.  Still  the  communion  with  literary  men 
had  its  effect  to  set  his  imagination  teeming.  Dr.  Farr,  one  of 
his  Edinburgh  fellow-students,  who  was  at  London  about  this 
time,  attending  the  hospitals  and  lectures,  gives  us  an  amusing 
account  of  Goldsmith  in  his  literary  character. 

"Early  in  January  he  called  upon  me  one  morning  before  I 
was  up,  and,  on  my  entering  the  room,  I  recognized  my  old 
acquaintance,  dressed  in  a  rusty,  full-trimmed  black  suit,  with 
his  pockets  full  of  papers,  which  instantly  reminded  me  of  the 


56  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

poet  in  Garrick's  farce  of  Lethe.  After  we  had  finished  our 
breakfast  he  drew  from  his  pocket  part  of  a  tragedy,  which  he 
said  had  been  brought  for  my  correction.  In  vain  I  pleaded 
inability,  when  he  began  to  read ;  and  every  part  on  which  I 
expressed  a  doubt  as  to  the  propriety  was  immediately  blotted 
out.  I  then  most  earnestly  pressed  him  not  to  trust  to  my 
judgment,  but  to  take  the  opinion  of  persons  better  qualified 
to  decide  on  dramatic  compositions.  He  now  told  me  he  bad 
submitted  his  productions,  so  far  as  he  had  written,  to  Mr. 
Richardson,  the  author  of  Clarissa,  on  which  I  peremptorily 
declined  offering  another  criticism  on  the  performance." 

From  the  graphic  description  given  of  him  by  Dr.  Farr,  it 
will  be  perceived  that  the  tarnished  finery  of  green  and  gold 
had  been  succeeded  by  a  professional  suit  of  black,  to  which, 
we  are  told,  were  added  the  wig  and  cane  indispensable  to 
medical  doctors  in  those  days.  The  coat  was  a  second  hand 
one,  of  rusty  velvet,  with  a  patch  on  the  left  breast,  which  he 
adroitly  covered  with  his  three-cornered  hat  during  bis  medical 
visits;  and  Ave  have  an  amusing  anecdote  of  his  contest  of 
courtesy  with  a  patient  who  persisted  in  endeavoring  to  relieve 
him  from  the  hat,  which  only  made  him  press  it  more  devoutly 
to  his  heart. 

Nothing  further  has  ever  been  heard  of  the  tragedy  men- 
tioned by  Dr.  Farr;  it  was  probably  never  completed.  The 
same  gentleman  speaks  of  a  strange  Quixotic  scheme  which 
Goldsmith  had  in  contemplation  at  the  time,  "of  going  to 
decipher  the  inscriptions  on  the  written  mountains,  though  he 
was  altogether  ignorant  of  Arabic,  or  the  language  in  which 
they  might  be  supposed  to  be  written.  "  The  salary  of  three 
hundred  pounds,"  adds  Dr.  Farr,  "  which  had  been  left  for  the 
purpose,  was  the  temptation. "  This  was  probably  one  of 
many  dreamy  projects  with  which  his  fervid  brain  was  apt  to 
teem.  On  such  subjects  he  was  prone  to  talk  vaguely  and 
magnificently,  but  inconsiderately,  from  a  kindled  imagination 
rather  than  a  well-instructed  judgment.  He  had  always  a 
great  notion  of  expeditions  to  the  East,  and  wonders  to  be  seen 
and  effected  jn  the  oriental  countries. 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  57 


CHAPTER  VII. 

LIFE  OF  A  PEDAGOGUE — KINDNESS  TO  SCHOOLBOYS— PERTNESS  IN 
RETURN  —  EXPENSIVE  CHARITIES  —  THE  GRIFFITHS  AND  THE 
"MONTHLY  REVIEW" — TOILS  OF  A  LITERARY  HACK— RUPTURE 
WITH  THE  GRIFFITHS. 

Among  the  most  cordial  of  Goldsmith's  intimates  in  London 
during  tins  time  of  precarious  struggle  were  certain  of  his 
former  fellow-students  in  Edinburgh.  One  of  these  was  the 
son  of  a  Doctor  Milner,  a  dissenting  minister,  who  kept  a 
classical  school  of  eminence  at  Peckham,  in  Surrey.  Young 
Milner  had  a  favorable  opinion  of  Goldsmith's  abilities  and 
attainments,  and  cherished  for  him  that  good  will  which  his 
genial  nature  seems  ever  to  have  inspired  among  his  school 
and  college  associates.  His  father  falling  ill,  the  young  man 
negotiated  with  Goldsmith  to  take  temporary  charge  of  the 
school.  The  latter  readily  consented ;  for  he  was  discouraged 
by  the  slow  growth  of  medical  reputation  and  practice,  and  as 
yet  had  no  confidence  in  the  coy  smiles  of  the  muse.  Laying 
by  his  wig  and  cane,  therefore,  and  once  more  wielding  the 
ferule,  he  resumed  the  character  of  the  pedagogue,  and  for 
some  time  reigned  as  vicegerent  over  the  academy  at  Peckham. 
He  appears  to  have  been  well  treated  by  both  Dr.  Milner  and 
his  wife,  and  became  a  favorite  with  the  scholars  from  his 
easy,  indulgent  good  nature.  He  mingled  in  their  sports,  told 
them  droll  stories,  played  on  the  flute  for  their  amusement, 
and  spent  his  money  in  treating  them  to  sweetmeats  and  other 
schoolboy  dainties.  His  familiarity  was  sometimes  carried  too 
far;  he  indulged  hi  boyish  pranks  and  practical  jokes,  and 
drew  upon  himself  retorts  in  kind,  which,  however,  he  bore 
with  great  good  humor.  Once,  indeed,  he  was  touched  to  the 
quick  by  a  piece  of  schoolboy  pertness.  After  playing  on  the 
flute,  he  spoke  with  enthusiasm  of  music,  as  delightful  in  itself, 
and  as  a  valuable  accomplishment  for  a  gentleman,  whereupon 
a  youngster,  with  a  glance  at  his  ungainly  person,  wished  to 
know  if  he  considered  himself  a  gentleman.  Poor  Goldsmith, 
feelingly  alive  to  the  awkwardness  of  his  appearance  and  the 
humility  of  his  situation,  winced  at  this  unthinking  sneer, 
which  long  rankled  in  his  mind. 


58  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

As  usual,  while  in  Dr.  Milner's  employ,  his  benevolent  feel- 
ings were  a  heavy  tax  upon  his  purse,  for  he  never  could 
resist  a  tale  of  distress,  and  was  apt  to  be  fleeced  by  every 
sturdy  beggar;  so  that,  between  his  charity  and  his  munifi- 
cence, he  was  generally  in  advance  of  his  slender  salary. 
"You  had  better,  Mr.  Goldsmith,  let  me  take  care  of  your 
money,"  said  Mrs.  Milner  one  day,  "as  I  do  for  some  of  the 
young  gentlemen." — "In  truth,  madam,  there  is  equal  need!" 
was  the  good-humored  reply. 

Dr.  Milner  was  a  man  of  some  literary  pretensions,  and  wrote 
occasionally  for  the  Monthly  Review,  of  which  a  bookseller,  by 
the  name  of  Griffiths,  was  proprietor.  This  work  was  an 
advocate  for  Whig  principles,  and  had  been  in  prosperous 
existence  for  nearly  eight  years.  Of  late,  however,  periodicals 
had  multiplied  exceedingly,  and  a  formidable  Tory  rival  had 
started  up  in  the  Critical  Review,  published  by  Archibald  Ham- 
ilton, a  bookseller,  and  aided  by  the  powerful  and  popular  pen 
of  Dr.  Smollett.  Griffiths  was  obliged  to  recruit  his  forces. 
While  so  doing  he  met  Goldsmith,  a  humble  occupant  of  a  seat 
at  Dr.  Milner's  table,  and  was  struck  with  remarks  on  men  and 
books,  which  fell  from  him  in  the  course  of  conversation.  He 
took  occasion  to  sound  him  privately  as  to  his  inclination  and 
capacity  as  a  reviewer,  and  was  furnished  by  him  with  speci- 
mens of  his  literary  and  critical  talents.  They  proved  satis- 
factory. The  consequence  was  that  Goldsmith  once  more 
changed  his  mode  of  life,  and  in  April,  1757,  became  a  contribu- 
tor to  the  Monthly  Review,  at  a  small  fixed  salary,  with  board 
and  lodging,  and  accordingly  took  up  his  abode  with  Mr. 
Griffiths,  at  the  sign  of  the  Dunciad,  Paternoster  Eow.  As 
usual  we  trace  this  phase  of  his  fortunes  in  his  semi-fictitious 
writings ;  his  sudden  transmutation  of  the  pedagogue  into  the 
author  being  humorously  set  forth  in  the  case  of  "  George  Prim- 
rose," in  the  "Vicar  of  Wakefield."  "Come,"  says  George's 
adviser,  ' '  I  see  you  are  a  lad  of  spirit  and  some  learning ; 
what  do  you  think  of  commencing  author  like  me?  You  have 
read  in  books,  no  doubt,  of  men  of  genius  starving  at  the 
trade;  at  present  I'll  show  you  forty  very  dull  fellows  about 
town  that  live  by  it  in  opulence.  All  honest,  jog-trot  men, 
who  go  on  smoothly  and  dully,  and  write  history  and  politics, 
and  are  praised :  men,  sir,  who,_had  they  been  bred  cobblers, 
would  all  their  lives  only  have  mended  shoes,  but  never  made 
them."  "Finding"  (says  George'i  "that  there  was  no  great  de- 
gree of  gentility  affixed  to  the  character  of  an  usher,  I  resolved 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  59 

to  accept  his  proposal;  and  having  the  highest  respect  for 
literature,  hailed  the  antiqua  mater  of  Grub  Street  with  rev- 
erence. I  thought  it  my  glory  to  pursue  a  track  which 
Dryden  and  Otway  trod  before  me."  Alas,  Dryden  struggled 
with  indigence  all  his  days ;  and  Otway,  it  is  said,  fell  a  vic- 
tim to  famine  in  his  thirty-fifth  year,  being  strangled  by  a  roll 
of  bread,  which  he  devoured  with  the  voracity  of  a  starving 
man. 

In  Goldsmith's  experience  the  track  soon  proved  a  thorny 
one.  Griffiths  was  a  hard  business  man,  of  shrewd,  worldly 
good  sense,  but  little  refinement  or  cultivation.  He  meddled, 
or  rather  muddled  with  literature,  too,  in  a  business  way, 
altering  and  modifying  occasionally  the  writings  of  his  con- 
tributors, and  in  this  he  was  aided  by  his  wife,  who,  according 
to  SmoUett,  was  ' '  an  antiquated  female  critic  and  a  dabbler  in 
the  Review."  Such  was  the  literary  vassalage  to  which  Gold- 
sihith  had  unwarily  subjected  himself.  A  diurnal  drudgery 
was  imposed  on  him,  irksome  to  his  indolent  habits,  and  at- 
tended by  circumstances  humiliating  to  his  pride.  He  had  to 
write  daily  from  nine  o'clock  until  two,  and  often  throughout 
the  day ;  whether  in  the  vein  or  not,  and  on  subjects  dictated 
by  his  taskmaster,  however  foreign  to  his  taste ;  in  a  word,  he 
was  treated  as  a  mere  literary  hack.  But  this  Avas  not  the 
worst ;  it  was  the  critical  supervision  of  Griffiths  and  his  wife 
which  grieved  him:  the  "illiterate,  bookselling  Griffiths,"  as 
Smollett  called  them,  "who  presumed  to  revise,  alter,  and 
amend  the  articles  contributed  to  their  Revieiv.  Thank 
heaven,"  crowed  Smollet,  "the  Critical  Revieiv  is  not  written 
under  the  restraint  of  a  bookseller  and  his  wife.  Its  principal 
writers  are  independent  of  each  other,  unconnected  with  book- 
sellers, and  unawed  by  old  women !" 

This  literary  vassalage,  however,  did  not  last  long.  The 
bookseller  became  more  and  more  exacting.  He  accused  his 
hack  writer  of  idleness;  of  abandoning  his  writing-desk  and 
literary  workshop  at  an  early  hour  of  the  day;  and  of  assum- 
ing a  tone  and  maimer  above  his  situation.  Goldsmith,  in 
return,  charged  him  with  impertinence ;  his  wife  with  mean- 
ness and  parsimony  in  her  household  treatment  of  him,  and 
both  of  literary  meddling  and  marring.  The  engagement  was 
broken  off  at  the  end  of  five  months,  by  mutual  consent,  and 
without  any  violent  rupture,  as  it  will  be  found  they  afterward 
had  occasional  dealings  with  each  other. 

Though  Goldsmith  was  now  nearly  thirty  years  of  age,  he 


60  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

had  produced  nothing  to  give  him  a  decided  reputation.  He 
was  as  yet  a  mere  writer  for  bread.  The  articles  he  had  con- 
tributed to  the  Review  were  anonymous,  and  were  never 
avowed  by  him.  They-  have  since  been,  for  the  most  part, 
ascertained;  and  though  thrown  off  hastily,  often  treating  on 
subjects  of  temporary  interest,  and  marred  by  the  Griffith  in- 
terpolations, they  are  still  characterized  by  his  sound,  easy 
good  sense,  and  the  genial  graces  of  his  style.  Johnson  ob- 
served that  Goldsmith's  genius  flowered  late;  lie  should  have 
said  it  flowered  early,  but  was  late  in  bringing  its  fruit  to 
maturity. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


NEWBERY,     OF    PICTURE-BOOK    MEMORY — HOW    TO    KEEP    UP    AP- 
PEARANCES—MISERIES   OF    AUTHORSHIP— A    POOR     RELATION- 

LETTER  TO   HOHSON. 

Being  now  known  in  the  publishing  world,  Goldsmith  began 
to  find  casual  employment  in  various  quarters ;  among  others 
he  wrote  occasionally  for  the  Literary  Magazine,  a  production 
set  on  foot  by  Mr.  John  Newbery,  bookseller,  St.  Paul's 
Churchyard,  renowned  in  nursery  literature  throughout  the 
latter  half  of  the  last  century  for  his  picture-books  for  children. 
Newbery  was  a  worthy,  intelligent,  kind-hearted  man,  and  a 
seasonable  though  cautious  friend  to  authors,  relieving  them 
with  small  loans  when  in  pecuniary  difficulties,  though  always 
taking  care  to  be  well  repaid  by  the  labor  of  their  pens.  Gold- 
smith introduces  him  in  a  humorous  yet  friendly  manner  in 
his  novel  of  the  Vicar  of  Wakefield.  "This  person  was  no 
other  than  the  philanthropic  bookseller  in  St.  Paul's  Church- 
yard, who  has  written  so  many  little  books  for  children;  he 
called  himself  their  friend;  but  he  was  the  friend  of  all  man- 
kind. He  was  no  sooner  alighted  but  he  was  in  haste  to  be 
gone ;  for  ho  was  ever  on  business  of  importance,  and  was  at 
that  time  actually  compiling  materials  for  the  history  of  one 
Mr.  Thomas  Trip.  I  immediately  recollected  this  good-natured 
man's  red-pimpled  face."  ~ 

Besides  his  literary  job  work,  Goldsmith  also  resumed  his 
medi<-;ii  but  with  very  trifling  success.     The  scant!- 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  $\ 

ness  of  His  purse  still  obliged  him  to  live  in  obscure  lodgings 

somewhere  in  the  vicinity  of  Salisbury  Square,  Fleet  Sir 
but  his  extended  acquaintance  and  rising  importance  caused 
him  to  consult  appearances.  lie  adopted  an  expedient,  then 
very  common,  and  still  practised  in  London  among  those  who 
have  to  tread  the  narrow  path  between  pride  and  poverty; 
while  he  burrowed  in  lodgings  suited  to  his  means,  he  "hailed," 
as  it  is  termed,  from  the  Temple  Exchange  Coffee-house  near 
Temple  Bar.  Here  he  received  his  medical  calls;  hence  he 
dated  his  letters,  and  here  he  passed  much  of  his  leisure  hours, 
conversing  with  the  frequenters  of  the  place.  ' '  Thirty  pounds 
a  year,"  said  a  poor  Irish  painter,  who  understood  the  art  of 
shifting,  "  is  enough  to  enable  a  man  to  live  in  London  with- 
out being  contemptible.  Ten  pounds  will  find  him  in  clothes 
and  linen ;  he  can  live  in  a  garret  on  eighteen  pence  a  week ; 
hail  from  a  coffee-house,  where,  by  occasionally  spending 
threepence,  he  may  pass  some  hours  each  day  m  good  com- 
pany ;  he  may  breakfast  on  bread  and  milk  for  a  penny ;  dine 
for  sixpence;  do  without  supper;  and  on  clean-shirt-day  he 
may  go  abroad  and  pay  visits." 

Goldsmith  seems  to  have  taken  a  leaf  from  this  poor  devil's 
manual  in  respect  to  the  coffee-house  at  least.  Indeed,  coffee- 
houses in  those  days  were  the  resorts  of  wits  and  literati,  where 
the  topics  of  the  day  were  gossiped  over,  and  the  affairs  of 
literature  and  the  drama  discussed  and  criticised.  In  this  way 
he  enlarged  the  circle  of  his  intimacy,  which  now  embraced 
several  names  of  notoriety. 

Do  we  want  a  picture  of  Goldsmith's  experience  in  this  part 
of  his  career?  we  have  it  in  his  observations  on  the  life  of  an 
author  in  the  "Inquiry  into  tJie  state  of  polite  learning,''1  pub- 
lished some  years  afterward. 

"The  author,  unpatronized  by  the  great,  has  naturally  re- 
course to  the  bookseller.  There  cannot,  perhaps,  be  imagined 
a  combination  more  prejudicial  to  taste  than  this.  It  is  the  in- 
terest of  the  one  to  allow  as  little  for  writing,  and  for  the  other 
to  write  as  much  as  possible ;  accordingly  tedious  compilations 
and  periodical  magazines  are  the  result  of  their  joint  endeavors. 
In  these  circumstances  the  author  bids  adieu  to  fame ;  writes 
for  bread ;  and  for  that  only  imagination  is  seldom  called  in. 
He  sits  down  to  address  the  venal  muse  with  the  most  phleg- 
matic apathy ;  and,  as  we  are  told  of  the  Russian,  courts  his 
mistress  by  falling  asleep  in  her  lap." 

Again.     ' '  Those  who  are  unacquainted  with  the  world  are 


62  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

apt  to  fancy  the  man  of  wit  as  leading  a  very  agreeable  life. 
They  conclude,  perhaps,  that  he  is  attended  with  silent  admi- 
ration, and  dictates  to  the  rest  of  mankind  with  all  the  elo- 
quence of  conscious  superiority.  Very  different  is  his  present 
situation.  He  is  called  an  author,  and  aU  know  that  an  author 
is  a  thing  only  to  be  laughed  at.  His  person,  not  his  jest,  be- 
comes the  mirth  of  the  company.  At  his  approach  the  most 
fat,  unthinking  face  brightens  into  malicious  meaning.  Even 
aldermen  laugh,  and  avenge  on  him  the  ridicule  which  was 
lavished  on  their  forefathers.  .  .  .  The  poet's  poverty  is  a 
standing  topic  of  contempt.  His  writing  for  bread  is  an  un- 
pardonable offence.  Perhaps  of  all  mankind,  an  author  in 
these  times  is  used  most  hardly.  We  keep  him  poor,  and  yet 
revile  his  poverty.  We  reproach  him  for  living  by  his  wit, 
and  yet  allow  him  no  other  means  to  live.  His  taking  refuge 
in  garrets  and  cellars  has  of  late  been  violently  objected  to 
him,  and  that  by  men  who,  I  hope,  are  more  apt  to  pity  than 
insult  his  distress.  Is  poverty  a  careless  fault?  No  doubt  he 
knows  how  to  prefer  a  bottle  of  champagne  to  the  nectar  of 
the  neighboring  ale-house,  or  a  venison  pasty  to  a  plate  of  po- 
tatoes. Want  of  delicacy  is  not  in  him,  but  in  those  who  deny 
him  the  opportunity  of  making  an  elegant  choice.  Wit  cer- 
tainly is  the  property  of  those  who  have  it,  nor  should  we  be 
displeased  if  it  is  the  only  property  a  man  sometimes  has.  We 
must  not  underrate  him  wbo  uses  it  for  subsistence,  and  flees 
from  the  ingratitude  of  the  age,  even  to  a  bookseller  for  re- 
dress."   .     .     . 

"  If  the  author  be  necessary  among  us,  let  us  treat  him  witb 
proper  consideration  as  a  child  of  the  public,  not  as  a  rent- 
charge  on  the  community.  And  indeed  a  child  of  the  public 
he  is  in  all  respects ;  for  while  so  well  able  to  direct  others,  how 
incapable  is  he  frequently  found  of  guiding  himself.  His  sim- 
plicity exposes  him  to  all  the  insidious  approaches  of  cunning; 
his  sensibility,  to  the  slightest  invasions  of  contempt.  Though 
possessed  of  fortitude  to  stand  unmoved  the  expected  bursts 
of  an  earthquake,  yet  of  feelings  so  exquisitely  poignant  as  to 
agonize  under  the  slightest  disappointment.  Broken  rest, 
tasteless  meals,  and  causeless  anxieties  shorten  life,  and  render 
it  unfit  for  active  employments ;  prolonged  vigils  and  intense 
application  still  farther  contract  his  span,  and  make  his  time 
glide  insensibly  away. " 

While  poor  Goldsmith  was  thus  struggling  with  the  difficul- 
ties and  discouragements  which  in  those  days  beset  the  path  of 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  63 

an  author,  his  friends  in  Ireland  received  accounts  of  his  lite- 
rary success  and  of  the  distinguished  acquaintances  he  was 
making.  This  was  enough  to  put  the  wise  heads  at  Lissoy  and 
Ballymahon  in  a  ferment  of  conjectures.  With  the  exaggera- 
ted notions  of  provincial  relatives  concerning  the  family  great 
man  in  the  metropolis,  some  of  Goldsmith's  poor  kindred  pic- 
tured him  to  themselves  seated  in  high  places,  clothed  in  purple 
and  fine  linen,  and  hand  and  glove  with  the  giver  of  gifts  and 
dispensers  of  patronage.  Accordingly,  he  was  one  day  sur- 
prised at  the  sudden  apparition,  in  his  miserable  lodging,  of  his 
younger  brother  Charles,  a  raw  youth  of  twenty-one,  endowed 
with  a  double  share  of  the  family  heedlessness,  and  who  ex- 
pected to  be  forthwith  helped  into  some  snug  by-path  to  for- 
tune by  one  or  other  of  Oliver's  great  friends.  Charles  was 
sadly  disconcerted  on  learning  that,  so  far  from  being  able  to 
provide  for  others,  his  brother  could  scarcely  take  care  of  him- 
self. He  looked  round  with  a  rueful  eye  on  the  poet's  quarters, 
and  could  not  help  expressing  his  surprise  and  disappointment 
at  finding  him  no  better  off.  ' '  All  in  good  time,  my  dear 
boy,"  replied  poor  Goldsmith,  with  infinite  good-humor;  "I 
shall  be  richer  by  and  by.  Addison,  let  me  tell  you,  wrote  his 
poem  of  the  '  Campaign '  in  a  garret  in  the  Haymarket,  three 
stories  high,  and  you  see  I  am  not  come  to  that  yet,  for  I  have 
only  got  to  the  second  story." 

Charles  Goldsmith  did  not  remain  long  to  embarrass  his  bro- 
ther in  London.  With  the  same  roving  disposition  and  incon- 
siderate temper  of  Oliver,  he  suddenly  departed  in  an  humble 
capacity  to  seek  his  fortune  in  the  West  Indies,  and  nothing 
was  heard  of  him  for  above  thirty  years,  when,  after  having 
been  given  up  as  dead  by  his  friends,  he  made  Ms  reappearance 
in  England. 

Shortly  after  his  departure,  Goldsmith  wrote  a  letter  to  his 
brother-in-law,  Daniel  Hodson,  Esq. ,  of  which  the  following  is 
an  extract ;  it  was  partly  intended,  no  doubt,  to  dissipate  any 
further  illusions  concerning  his  fortunes  which  might  float  on 
the  magnificent  imagination  of  his  friends  in  Ballymahon. 

' '  I  suppose  you  desire  to  know  my  present  situation.  As 
there  is  nothing  in  it  at  which  I  should  blush,  or  which  man- 
kind could  censure,  I  see  no  reason  for  making  it  a  secret.  In 
short,  by  a  very  little  practice  as  a  physician,  and  a  very  little 
reputation  as  a  poet,  I  make  a  shift  to  live.  Nothing  is  more 
apt  to  introduce  us  to  the  gates  of  the  muses  than  poverty ;  but 
it  were  well  if  they  only  left  us  at  the  door.     The  mischief 


64  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

is  they  sometimes  choose  to  give  us  their  company  to  the 
entertainment ;  and  want,  instead  of  being  gentleman-usher, 
often  turns  master  of  the  ceremonies. 

' '  Thus,  upon  learning  I  write,  no  doubt  you  imagine  I  starve ; 
and  the  name  of  an  author  naturally  reminds  you  of  a  garret. 
In  this  particular  I  do  not  think  proper  to  undeceive  my 
friends.  But,  whether  I  eat  or  starve,  live  in  a  first  floor  or 
four  pairs  of  stairs  high,  I  still  remember  them  with  ardor ;  nay, 
my  very  country  comes  in  for  a  share  of  my  affection.  Un- 
'  accountable  fondness  for  country,  this  maladie  clu  pais,  as  the 
French  call  it!  Unaccountable  that  he  should  still  have  an 
affection  for  a  place,  who  never,  when  in  it,  received  above 
common  civility;  who  never  brought  anything  out  of  it  except 
his  brogue  and  his  blunders.  Surely  my  affection  is  equally 
ridiculous  with  the  Scotchman's,  who  refused  to  be  cured  of  the 
itch  because  it  made  him  unco'  thoughtful  of  his  wife  and 
bonny  Inverary. 

"But  now,  to  be  serious:  let  me  ask  myself  what  gives  me  a 
wish  to  see  Ireland  again.  The  country  is  a  fine  one,  perhaps? 
No.  There  are  good  company  in  Ireland?  No.  The  conversa- 
tion there  is  generally  made  up  of  a  smutty  toast  or  a  bawdy 
song;  the  vivacity  supported  by  some  humble  cousin,  who  had 
just  folly  enough  to  earn  his  dinner.  Then,  perhaps,  there  is 
more  wit  and  learning  among  the  Irish?  Oh,  Lord,  no !  TJhtc 
has  been  more  money  spent  in  the  encouragement  of  the  Pada- 
reen  mare  there  one  season,  than  given  in  rewards  .to  learned 
men  since  the  time  of  Usher.  All  their  productions  in  learning 
amount  to  perhaps  a.  translation,  or  a  few  tracts  in  divinity ; 
and  all  their  productions  in  wit  to  just  nothing  at  all.  Wby 
the  plague,  then,  so  fond  of  Ireland?  Then,  all  at  once,  be- 
cause you,  my  dear  friend,  and  a  few  more  who  are  exceptions 
to  the  general  picture,  have  a  residence  there.  This  it  is  that 
gives  me  all  the  pangs  I  feel  in  separation.  I  confess  I  carry 
this  spirit  sometimes  to  the  souring  the  pleasures  I  at  present 
possess.  Is  I  go  to  the  opera,  where  Signora  Columba  pours 
out  all  the  mazes  of  melody,  I  sit  and  sigh  for  Lissoy  fireside, 
and  Johnny  Armstrong's  '  Last  Good-night '  from  Peggy  Gol- 
den. If  I  climb  Hampstead  Hill,  than  where  nature  never  ex- 
hibited a  more  magnificent  prospect,  I  confess  it  fine;  but  then 
I  had  rather  bo  placed  on  the  little  mount  before  Lissoy  gate, 
and  there  take  in,  to  me,  the  most  pleasing  horizon  in  nature. 

"Before  Charles  came  hither  my  thoughts  sometimes  found 
refuge  from  severer  studies  ajoaong  my  friends  in  Ireland.     I 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  65 

fancied  strange  revolutions  at  home;  but  I  find  it  was  the  ra 
pidity  of  my  own  motion  that  gave  an  imaginary  one  to  ob- 
jects really  at  rest.  No  alterations  there.  Some  friends,  ho 
tells  me,  are  still  lean,  but  very  rich ;  others  very  fat,  but  still 
very  poor.  Nay,  all  the  news  I  hear  of  you  is,  that  you  sally 
out  in  visits  among  the  neighbors,  and  sometimes  make  a  mi- 
gration from  the  blue  bed  to  the  brown.  I  could  from  my 
heart  wish  that  you  and  she  (Mrs.  Hodson),  and  Lissoy  and 
Ballymahon,  and  all  of  you,  would  fairly  make  a  migration 
into  Middlesex ;  though,  upon  second  thoughts,  this  might  be 
attended  with  a  few  inconveniences.  Therefore,  as  the  moun- 
tain will  not  come  to  Mohammed,  why  Mohammed  shall  go  to 
the  mountain ;  or,  to  speak  plain  English,  as  you  cannot  con- 
veniently pay  me  a  visit,  if  next  summer  I  can  contrive  to  be 
absent  six  weeks  from  London,  I  shall  spend  three  of  them 
among  my  friends  in  Ireland.  But  first,  believe  me,  my  do- 
sign  is  purely  to  visit,  and  neither  to  cut  a  figure  nor  levy  con- 
tributions; neither  to  excite  envy  nor  solicit  favor;  in  fact,  my 
circumstances  are  adapted  to  neither.  I  am  too  poor  to  be 
gazed  at,  and  too  rich  to  need  assistance." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

HACKNEY  AUTHORSHIP— THOUGHTS  OF  LITERARY  SUICIDE— RE- 
TURN TO  PECKHAM — ORIENTAL  PROJECTS— LITERARY  ENTER- 
PRISE TO  RAISE  FUNDS— LETTER  TO  EDWARD  WELLS — TO 
ROBERT  BRY ANTON— DEATH  OF  UNCLE  C  >NTARINE— LETTER  TO 
COUSIN  JANE. 

For  some  time  Goldsmith  continued  to  write  miscellaneously 
for  reviews  and  other  periodical  publications,  but  without  mak- 
ing any  decided  hit,  to  use  a  technical  term.  Indeed,  as  yet  he 
appeared  destitute  of  the  strong  excitement  of  literary  ambi- 
tion, and  wrote  only  on  the  spur  of  necessity  and  at  the  urgent 
importunity  of  his  bookseller.  His  indolent  and  truant  dispo- 
sition, ever  averse  from  labor  and  delighting  in  holiday,  had 
to  be  scourged  up  to  its  task;  still  it  was  this  very  truant  dis- 
position which  threw  an  unconscious  charm  over  everything 
he  wrote;  bringing  with  it  honeyed  thoughts  and  pictured 
images  which  had  sprung  up  in  his  mind  in  the  sunny  hours  of 


06  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

idleness :  these  effusions,  dashed  off  on  compulsion  in  the  exi 
gency  of  the  moment,  were  published  anonymously;  so  that 
they  made  no  collective  impression  on  the  public,  and  reflected 
no  fame  on  the  name  of  their  author. 

In  an  essay  published  some  time  subsequently  in  the  Bee, 
Goldsmith  adverts,  in  his  own  humorous  way,  to  his 
impatience  at  the  tardiness  with  which  his  desultory  and 
unacknowledged  essays  crept  into  notice.  "I  was  once 
induced,"  says  he,  "  to  show  my  indignation  against  the  pub- 
lic by  discontinuing  my  efforts  to  please,  and  was  bravely 
resolved,  like  Raleigh,  to  vex  them  by  burning  my  manu- 
scripts in  a  passion.  Upon  reflection,  however,  I  considered 
what  set  or  body  of  people  would  be  displeased  at  my  rashness. 
The  sun,  after  so  sad  an  accident,  might  shine  next  morning 
as  bright  as  usual ;  men  might  laugh  and  sing  the  next  day, 
and  transact  business  as  before ;  and  not  a  single  creature  feel 
any  regret  but  myself.  Instead  of  having  Apollo  in  mourn- 
ing or  the  Muses  in  a  fit  of  the  spleen ;  instead  of  having  the 
learned  world  apostrophizing  at  my  untimely  decease;  per- 
haps all  Grub  Street  might  laugh  at  my  fate,  and  self -approv- 
ing dignity  be  unable  to  shield  me  from  ridicule." 

Circumstances  occurred  about  this  time  to  give  a  new  direc- 
tion to  Goldsmith's  hopes  and  schemes.  Having  resumed  for 
a  brief  period  the  superintendence  of  the  Peckham  school 
during  a  fit  of  illness  of  Dr.  Milner,  that  gentleman,  in 
requital  for  his  timely  services,  promised  to  use  his  influence 
with  a  friend,  an  East  India  director,  to  procure  him  a  medical 
appointment  in  India. 

There  was  every  reason  to  believe  that  the  influence  of  Dr. 
Milner  would  be  effectual ;  but  how  was  Goldsmith  to  find  the 
ways  and  means  of  fitting  himself  out  for  a  voyage  to  the 
Indies?  In  this  emergency  he  was  driven  to  a  more  extended 
exercise  of  the  pen  than  he  had  yet  attempted.  His  skirmish- 
ing among  books  as  a  reviewer,  and  his  disputatious  ramble 
among  the  schools  and  universities  and  literati  of  the  Con- 
tinent, had  filled  his  mind  with  facts  and  observations  which 
he  now  set  about  digesting  into  a  treatise  of  some  magnitude, 
to  be  entitled,  "  An  Inquiry  into  the  Present  State  of  Polite 
Learning  in  Europe."  As  the  work  grew  on  his  hands  his 
sanguine  temper  ran  ahead  of  Ms  labors.  Feeling  secure  of 
success  in  England,  he  was  anxious  to  forestall  the  piracy  of 
the  Irish  press ;  for  as  yet,  the  union  not  having  taken  place, 
the  English  law  of  copyright  did  not  extend  to  the  other  side 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  67 

of  the  Irish  Channel.  He  wrote,  therefore,  to  his  friends  in 
Ireland,  urging  them  to  circulate  his  proposals  f  or  his  contem- 
plated work,  and  obtain  subscriptions  payable  in  advance-, 
the  money  to  be  transmitted  to  a  Mr.  Bradley,  an  eminent 
bookseller  in  Dublin,  who  would  give  a  receipt  for  it  and  be 
accountable  for  the  delivery  of  the  books.  The  letters  written 
by  him  on  this  occasion  are  worthy  of  copious  citation  as 
being  full  of  character  and  interest.  One  was  to  his  relative 
and  college  intimate,  Edward  Wells,  who  had  studied  for 
the  bar,  but  was  now  living  at  ease  on  his  estate  on  Ros- 
common. "  You  have  quitted,"  writes  Goldsmith,  "the  plan 
of  life  which  you  once  intended  to  pursue,  and  given  up 
ambition  for  domestic  ti'anquillity.  I  cannot  avoid  feeling 
some  regret  that  one  of  my  few  friends  has  declined  a  pursuit 
in  which  he  had  every  reason  to  expect  success.  I  have  often 
let  my  fancy  loose  when  you  were  the  subject,  and  have 
imagined  you  gracing  the  bench,  or  thundering  at  the  bar; 
while  I  have  taken  no  small  pride  to  myself,  and  whispered  to 
all  that  I  could  come  near,  that  this  was  my  cousin.  Instead 
of  this,  it  seems,  that  you  are  merely  contented  to  be  a  happy 
man;  to  be  esteemed  by  your  acquaintances;  to  cultivate 
your  paternal  acres ;  to  take  unmolested  a  nap  under  one  of 
your  own  hawthorns  or  in  Mrs.  Wells's  bedchamber,  which 
even  a  poet  must  confess  is  rather  the  more  comfortable  place 
of  the  two;  But,  however  your  resolutions  may  be  altered 
with  regard  to  your  situation  in  life,  I  persuade  myself  they 
are  unalterable  with  respect  to  your  friends  in  it,  I  cannot 
think  the  world  has  taken  such  entire  possession  of  that  heart 
(once  so  susceptible  of  friendship)  as  not  to  have  left  a  corner 
there  for  a  friend  or  two,  but  I  flatter  myself  that  even  I  have 
a  place  among  the  number.  This  I  have  a  claim  to  from  the 
similitude  of  our  dispositions;  or  setting  that  aside,  I  can 
demand  it  as  a  right  by  the  most  equitable  law  of  nature ;  I 
mean  that  of  retaliation ;  for  indeed  you  have  more  than  your 
share  in  mine.  I  am  a  man  of  few  professions ;  and  yet  at  this 
very  instant  I  cannot  avoid  the  painful  apprehension  that  my 
present  professions  (which  speak  not  half  my  feelings)  should 
be  considered  only  as  a  pretext  to  cover  a  request,  as  I  have  a 
request  to  make.  No,  my  dear  Ned,  I  know  you  are  too 
generous  to  think  so,  and  you  know  me  too  proud  to  stoop  to 
unnecessary  insincerity — I  have  a  request,  it  is  true,  to  make, 
but  as  I  know  to  whom  I  am  a  petitioner,  I  make  it  without 
diffidence  or  confusion.    It  is  in  short  this,  I  am  going  to  pub- 


68  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

lish  a  book  in  London."'  etc.  The  residue  of  the  letter  specifies 
the  nature  of  the  request,  which  was  merely  to  aid  in  circulat- 
ing his  proposals  and  obtaining  subscriptions.     The  letter  of 

the  poor  author,  however,  was  unattended  to  and  unac- 
knowledged by  the  prosperous  Mr.  Wells, '  of  Boscommon, 
though  in  after  years  he  was  proud  to  claim  relationship  to  Dr 
Goldsmith,  when  he  had  risen  to  celebrity. 

Another  of  Goldsmith's  letters  was  to  Eobert  Bryanton, 
with  whom  he  had  long  ceased  to  be  in  correspondence.  "1 
believe,"  writes  he.  "  that  they  who  are  drunk,  or  out  of  then* 
wits,  fancy  everybody  else  in  the  same  condition.  Mine  is  a 
friendship  that  neither  distance  nor  time  can  efface,  which  is 
probably  the  reason  that,  for  the  soul  of  me,  I  cant  avoid 
l 'jinking  yours  of  the  same  cemplexion;  and  yet  I  have  many 
reasons  for  being  of  a  contrary  opinion,  else  why,  in  so  long 
an  absence,  was  I  never  made  a  partner  in  your  concerns? 
To  hear  of  your  success  would  have  given  me  the  utmost 
pleasure;  and  a  eommimieation  of  your  very  disappointments 
wotdd  divide  the  uneasiness  I  too  frequently  feel  for  my  own. 
Indeed,  my  dear  Bob,  you  don*t  conceive  how  unkindly  you 
bave  treated  one  whose  circumstances  afford  him  few  pros- 
pects of  pleasure,  except  those  reflected  from  the  happiness  of 
bis  friends.  However,  since  you  have  not  let  me  hear  from 
you,  I  have  in  some  measure  disappointed  your  neglect  by 
frequently  thinking  of  you.  Every  day  or  so  I  remember  the 
calm  nneedotes  of  your  life,  from  the  fireside  to  the  easy  chair; 
recall  the  first  adventures  that  first  cemented  our  friendship; 
the  scbooi,  the  college,  or  the  tavern;  preside  in  fancy  over 
your  cards;  and  am  displeased  at  your  bad  play  when  the 
rubber  goes  against  you,  though  not  with  all  that  agony  of 
soul  as  when  I  was  once  your  partner.  Is  it  not  strange  that 
two  of  such  like. affections  should  be  so  much  separated,  and 
so  differently  employed  as  we  are.?  You  seem  placed  at  the 
centre  of  fortune's  wheel,  and,  let  it  revolve  never  so  fast,  are 
insensible  of  the  motion.  I  seem  to  have  been  tied  to  the  cir- 
cumference, and  whirled  disagreeably  round,  as  if  on  a  whirli- 

-'■'' 

He  then  runs  into  a  whimsical  and  extravagant  tirade  about 

his  future  prospects,  the  wonderful  career  of  fame  and  for- 
tune that  awaits  him ;  and  after-fedulging  in  all  kinds  of  humor- 
ous gasconades,  concludes:  "Let  me,  then,  stop  my  fancy  to 
take  a  view  of  my  future  self — and,  as  the  boys  say,  light  down 

to  see  myself  on  horseback.     Well,  now  that  I  am  down,  where 


OLIVER   GOLD  KM JT11.  69 

the  d — 1  is  I?    Oh  gods!  gods!  here  in  a  garret,  writing  for 
bread,  and  expecting  to  be  dunned  for  a  milk  score!" 

He  would,  on  this  occasion,  have  doubtless  written  to  his 
uncle  Contarine,  but  that  generous  friend  was  sunk  into 
a  helpless  hopeless  state  from  which  death  soon  released 
him. 

Cut  off  thus- from  the  kind  co-operation  of  his  uncle,  he  ad 
dresses  a  letter  to  his  cousin  Jane,   the  companion  of   bis 
school-boy  and  happy  days,  now  the  wife  of  Mr.  Lawder.    The 
object  was  to  secure  her  interest  with  her  husband  in  promoting 
the  circulation  of  his  proposals.     The  letter  is  full  of  character. 

"If  you  should  ask,"  he  begins,  "why,  in  an  interval  of  so 
many  years,  you  never  heard  from  me,  permit  me,  madam,  to 
ask  the  same  question.  I  have  the  best  excuse  in  recrimination. 
[  wrote  to  Kilmore  from  Leyden  in  Holland,  from  Louvain  in 
Flanders,  and  Eouen  in  France,  but  received  no  answer.  To 
what  coidd  I  attribute  this  silence  but  to  displeasure  or  f  orgetf  ul- 
ness?  Whether  I  was  right  in  my  conjecture  I  do  not  pretend 
to  determine ;  but  this  I  must  ingenuously  own,  that  I  have  a 
thousand  times  in  my  turn  endeavored  to  forget  them,  whom  I 
could  not  but  look  upon  as  forgetting  me.  I  have  attempted  to 
blot  their  names  from  my  memory,  and,  I  confess  it,  spent  whole 
days  in  efforts  to  tear  their  image  from  my  heart.  Could  I  have 
succeeded,  you  had  not  now  been  troubled  with  this  renewal  of 
a  discontinued  correspondence ;  but,  as  every  effort  the  restless 
make  to  procure  sleep  serves  but  to  keep  them  waking,  all  my 
attempts  contributed  to  impress  what  I  would  forget  deeper  on 
my  imagination.  But  this  subject  I  would  willingly  turn  from, 
and  yet,  'for  the  soul  of  me,'  I  can't  till  I  have  said  all.  I  was, 
madam,  when  I  discontinued  writing  to  Kdmore,  in  such  cir- 
cumstances that  all  my  endeavors  to  continue  your  regards 
might  be  attributed  to  wrong  motives.  My  letters  might  be 
looked  upon  as  the  petitions  of  a  beggar,  and  not  the  offerings 
of  a  friend ;  while  all  my  professions,  instead  of  being  consid- 
ered as  the  result  of  disinterested  esteem,  might  be  ascribed  to 
renal  hisincerity.  I  believe,  indeed,  you  had  too  much  gener- 
osity to  place  them  in  such  a  light,  but  I  could  not  bear  even 
the  shadow  of  such  a  suspicion.  The  most  delicate  friendships 
are  always  most  sensible  of  the  slightest  invasion,  and  the 
strongest  jealousy  is  ever  attendant  on  the  warmest  regard.  I 
could  not — I  own  I  could  not— continue  a  correspondence  in 
which  every  acknowledgment  for  past  favors  might  be  consid- 
ered as  an  indirect  request  for  future  ones ;  and  where  it  might 


70  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

he  thought  I  gave  my  heart  from  a  motive  of  gratitude  alone, 
when  I  was  conscious  of  having  bestowed  it  on  much  more  dis 
interested  principles.  It  is  true,  this  conduct  might  have  been 
simple  enough ;  but  yourself  must  confess  it  was  in  character. 
Those  who  know  me  at  all,  know  that  I  have  always  been  actu- 
ated by  different  principles  from  the  rest  of  mankind:  and 
while  none  regarded  the  interest  of  his  friend  more,  no  man  on 
earth  regarded  his  own  less.  I  have  often  affected  bluntness  to 
avoid  the  imputation  of  flattery;  have  frequently  seemed  to 
overlook  those  merits  too  obvious  to  escape  notice,  and  pre- 
tended disregard  to  those  instances  of  good  nature  and  good 
sense,  which  I  could  not  fail  tacitly  to  applaud ;  and  all  this 
lest  I  should  be  ranked  among  the  grinning  tribe,  who  say 
'  very  true '  to  all  that  is  said ;  who  fill  a  vacant  chair  at  a  tea- 
table  ;  whose  narrow  souls  never  moved  in  a  wider  circle  than 
the  circumference. of  a  guinea;  and  who  had  rather  be  reckon- 
ing the  money  in  your  pocket  than  the  virtue  in  your  breast. 
All  this,  I  say,  I  have  done,  and  a  thousand  other  very  silly, 
though  very  disinterested,  things  in  my  time,  and  for  all  which 
no  soul  cares  a  farthing  about  me.  .  .  .  Is  it  to  be  wondered 
that  he  should  once  in  his  life  forget  you,  who  has  been  all  his 
life  forgetting  himself?  However,  it  is  probable  you  may  one 
of  these  days  see  me  turned  into  a  perfect  hunks,  and  as  dark 
and  intricate  as  a  mouse-hole.  I  have  already  given  my  land- 
lady orders  for  an  entire  reform  in  the  state  of  my  finances.  I 
declaim  against  hot  suppers,  drink  less  sugar  in  my  tea,  and 
check  my  grate  with  brickbats.  Instead  of  hanging  my  room 
with  pictures,  I  intend  to  adorn  it  with  maxims  of  frugality. 
Those  will  make  pretty  furniture  enough,  and  won't  be  a  bit 
too  expensive ;  for  I  will  draw  them  all  out  with  my  own  hands, 
and  my  landlady's  daughter  shall  frame  them  with  the  parings 
of  my  black  waistcoat.  Each  maxim  is  to  be  inscribed  on  a 
sheet  of  clean  paper,  and  wrote  with  my  best  pen;  of  which  the 
following  wdl  serve  as  a  specimen.  Look  sharp :  Mind  the  main 
chance:  Money  is  money  noiv:  If  you  have  a  thousand  pounds 
you  can  put  your  hands  by  your  sides,  and  say  you  are  worth  a 
thousand  pounds  every  day  of  the  year :  Take  a  farthing  from 
a  hundred  and  it  will  be  a  hundred  no  longer.  Thus,  which 
way  soever  I  turn  my  eyes,  they  "are  sure  to  meet  one  of  those 
friendly  monitors ;  and  as  we  are  told  of  an  actor  who  hung  his 
room  round  with  looking-glass  to  correct  the  defects  of  his  per- 
son, my  apartment  shall  be  furnished  in  a  peculiar  manner,  to 
correct  the  errors  of  my  mind.     Faith !  madam,  I  heartily  wish 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITU.  71 

to  be  rich,  if  it  were  only  for  this  reason,  to  say  without  a 
blush  how  much  I  esteem  you.  But,  alas!  I  have  many  a 
fatigue  to  encounter  before  that  happy  time  comes,  when  your 
poor  old  simple  friend  may  again  give  a  loose  to  the  luxuriance 
of  his  nature ;  sitting  by  Kilmore  fireside,  recount  the  various 
adventures  of  a  hard  fought  life;  laugh  over  the  follies  of  the 
day;  join  his  flute  to  your  harpsichord;  and  forget  that  ever 
he  starved  in  those  streets  where  Butler  and  Otway  starved  be- 
fore him.  And  now  I  mention  those  great  names— my  uncle  1 
he  is  no  more  that  soul  of  fire  as  when  I  once  knew  him.  New- 
ton and  Swift  grew  dim  with  age  as  well  as  he.  But  what  shall 
I  say?  His  mind  was  too  active  an  inhabitant  not  to  disorder 
the  feeble  mansion  of  its  abode :  for  the  richest  jewels  soonest 
wear  their  settings.  Yet  who  but  the  fool  would  lament  his 
condition !  He  now  forgets  the  calamities  of  life.  Perhaps  in- 
dulgent Heaven  has  given  him  a  foretaste  of  that  tranquillity 
here,  which  he  so  well  deserves  hereafter.  But  I  must  come  to 
business;  for  business,  as  one  of  my  maxims  tells  me,  must  be 
minded  or  lost.  I  am  going  to  publish  in  London  a  book  en- 
titled '  The  Present  State  of  Taste  and  Literature  in  Europe.' 
The  booksellers  in  Ireland  republish  every  performance  there 
without  making  the  author  any  consideration.  I  would,  in 
this  respect,  disappoint  their  avarice  and  have  all  the  profits  of 
my  labor  to  myself.  I  must  therefore  request  Mr.  Lawder  to 
circidate  among  his  friends  and  acquaintances  a  hundred  of  my 
proposals  which  I  have  given  the  bookseller,  Mr.  Bradley,  in 
Dame  Street,  directions  to  send  to  him.  If,  in  pursuance  of 
such  circulation,  he  should  receive  any  subscriptions,  I  entreat, 
when  collected,  they  may  be  sent  to  Mr.  Bradley,  as  aforesaid, 
who  will  give  a  receipt,  and  be  accountable  for  the  work,  or  a 
return  of  the  subscription.  If  this  request  (which,  if  it  be  com- 
plied with,  will  in  some  measure  be  an  encouragement  to  a  man 
of  learning)  should  be  disagreeable  or  troublesome,  I  would  not 
press  it ;  for  I  would  be  the  last  man  on  earth  to  have  my 
labors  go  a-begging;  but  if  I  know  Mr.  Lawder  (and  sure  I 
ought  to  know  him),  he  will  accept  the  employment  with  pleas- 
ure. All  I  can  say — if  he  writes  a  book,  I  will  get  hirn  two 
hundred  subscribers,  and  those  of  the  best  wits  in  Europe. 
Whether  this  request  is  complied  with  or  not,  I  shall  not  be 
uneasy ;  but  there  is  one  petition  I  must  make  to  him  and  to 
you,  which  I  solicit  with  the  warmest  ardor,  and  in  which  I 
cannot  bear  a  refusal.  I  mean,  dear  madam,  that  I  may  be 
allowed  to  subscribe  myself,  your  ever  affectionate  and  obliged 


72  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

kinsman,  Oliver  Goldsmith.     Now  see  how  I  blot  and  blun- 
der, when  I  am  asking  a  favor." 


CHAPTER  X. 

ORIENTAL  APPOINTMENT— AND  DISAPPOINTMENT— EXAMINATION 
AT  THE  COLLEGE  OP  SURGEONS— HOW  TO  PROCURE  A  SUIT  OP 
CLOTHES— FRESH  DISAPPOINTMENT — A  TALE  OF  DISTRESS — THE 
SUIT  OF  CLOTHES  IN  PAWN — PUNISHMENT  FOR  DOING  AN  ACT 
OF  CHARITY — GAYETIES  OF  GREEN  ARBOR  COURT — LETTER  TO 
HIS  BROTHER — LIFE  OP  VOLTAIRE — SCROGGIN,  AN  ATTEMPT  AT 
MOCK  HEROIC   POETRY. 

While  Goldsmith  was  yet  laboring  at  his  treatise,  the  pro- 
mise made  him  by  Dr.  Milner  was  carried  into  effect,  and  be 
was  actually  appointed  physician  and  surgeon  to  one  of  the 
factories  on  the  coast  of  Coromandel.  His  imagination  was 
immediately  on  fire  with  visions  of  Oriental  wealth  and  mag- 
nificence.' It  is  true  the  salary  did  riot  exceed  one  hundred 
pounds,  but  then,  as  appointed  physician,  he  woidd  have  the 
exclusive  practice  of  the  place,  amounting  to  one  thousand 
pounds  per  annum ;  with  advantages  to  be  derived  from  trade, 
and  from  the  high  interest  of  money — twenty  per  cent;  in  a 
word,  for  once  in  his  life,  the  road  to  fortune  lay  broad  and 
straight  before  him. 

Hitherto,  in  his  correspondence  with  his  friends,  he  had  said 
nothing  of  his  India  scheme ;  but  now  he  imparted  to  them  his 
brilliant  prospects,  urging  the  importance  of  their  circulating 
his  proposals  and  obtaining  him  subscriptions  and  advances  on 
his  forthcoming  work,  to  furnish  funds  for  his  outfit. 

In  the  mean  time  he  had  to  task  that  poor  drudge,  his  muse, 
for  present  exigencies.  Ten  pounds  were  demanded  for  his 
appointment-warrant.  Other  expenses  pressed  hard  upon 
him.  Fortunately,  though  as  yet  unknown  to  fame,  his 
literary  capability  was  known  to' "the  trade,"  and  the  coinage 
of  his  brain  passed  current  in  Grub  Street.  Archibald  Hamil- 
ton, proprietor  of  the  Critical  Revieiv,  the  rival  to  that  of  Grif- 
fiths, readily  made  him  a  small  advance  on  receiving  three 
articles  for  his  periodical.  His  purse  thus  slenderly  replen- 
ished. Goldsmith  paid  for  bis  warrant;  wiped  off  the  score  of 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH,  73 

his  milkmaid ;  abandoned  his  garret,  and  moved  into  a  shabby 
first  floor  in  a  forlorn  court  near  the  Old  Bailey ;  there  to  await 
the  time  for  his  migration  to  the  magnificent  coast  of  Coro- 
mandel. 

Alas!  poor  Goldsmith!  ever  doomed  to  disappointment. 
Early  in  the  gloomy  month  of  November,  that  month  of  fog 
and  despondency  in  London,  he  learned  the  shipwreck  of  his 
hope.  The  great  Coromandel  enterprise  fell  through;  or  rather 
the  post  promised  to  him  was  transferred  to  some  other  candi- 
date. The  cause  of  this  disappointment  it  is  now  impossible  to 
ascertain.  The  death  of  his  quasi  patron,  Dr.  Milner,  which 
happened  about  this  time,  may  have  had  some  effect  in  pro- 
ducing it;  or  there  may  have  been  some  heedlessness  and 
blundering  on  his  own  part;  or  some  obstacle  arising  from 
his  insuperable  indigence;  whatever  may  have  been  the 
cause,  he  never  mentioned  it,  which  gives  some  ground  to 
surmise  that  he  himself  was  to  blame.  His  friends  learned 
with  surprise  that  he  had  suddenly  relinquished  his  appoint- 
ment to  India  about  which  he  had  raised  such  sanguine  expec- 
tations; some  accused  him  of  fickleness  and  caprice;  others 
supposed  him  unwilling  to  tear  himself  from  the  growing  fasci- 
nations of  the  literary  society  of  London. 

In  the  mean  time,  cut  down  in  his  hopes,  and  humiliated  in 
bis  pride  by  the  failure  of  his  Coromandel  scheme,  he  sought, 
without  consulting  his  friends,  to  be  examined  at  the  College  of 
Physicians  for  the  humble  situation  of  hospital  mate.  Even 
here  poverty  stood  in  his  way.  It  was  necessary  to  appear  in 
a  decent  garb  before  the  examining  committee ;  but  how  was 
he  to  do  so?  He  was  literally  out  at  elbows  as  well  as  out  of 
cash.  Here  again  the  muse,  so  often  jilted  and  neglected  by 
him,  came  to  his  aid.  In  consideration  of  four  articles  fur- 
nished to  the  Monthly  Review,  Griffiths,  his  old  taskmaster, 
was  to  become  his  security  to  the  tailor  for  a  suit  of  clothes. 
Goldsmith  said  he  wanted  them  but  for  a  single  occasion,  on 
which  depended  Ms  appointment  to  a  situation  in  the  army ;  as 
soon  as  that  temporary  purpose  was  served  they  would  either 
be  returned  or  paid  for.  The  books  to  be  reviewed  were  ac- 
cordingly lent  to  him ;  the  muse  was  again  set  to  her  compul- 
sory drudgery ;  the  articles  were  scribbled  off  and  sent  to  the 
bookseller,  and  the  clothes  came  in  due  time  from  the  tailor. 

From  the  records  of  the  College  of  Surgeons,  it  appears  that 
Goldsmith  underwent  his  examination  at  Surgeons'  Hall  on  the 
21st  of  December.  1758.    ■ 


74  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

Either  from  a  confusion  of  mind  incident  to  sensitive  and 
imaginative  persons  on  such  occasions,  or  from  a  real  want  of 
surgical  science,  which  last  is  extremely  probable,  he  failed  in 
his  examination,  and  was  rejected  as  unqualified.  The  effect 
of  such  a  rejection  was  to  disqualify  him  for  every  branch  of 
public  service,  though  he  might  have  claimed  a  re-examina- 
tion, after  the  interval  of  a  few  months  devoted  to  further 
study.  Such  a  re-examination  he  never  attempted,  nor  did  he 
ever  communicate  his  discomfiture  to  any  of  his  friends. 

On  Christmas  day,  but  four  days  after  his  rejection  by  the 
College  of  Surgeons,  while  he  was  suffering  under  the  mortifi- 
cation of  defeat  and  disappointment,  and  hard  pressed  for 
means  of  subsistence,  he  was  surprised  by  the  entrance  into  his 
room  of  the  poor  woman  of  whom  he  hired  his  wretched  apart- 
ment, and  to  whom  he  owed  some  small  arrears  of  rent.  She 
had  a  piteous  tale  of  distress,  and  was  clamorous  in  her  afflic- 
tions. Her  husband  had  been  arrested  in  the  night  for  debt, 
and  thrown  into  prison.  This  was  too  much  for  the  quick 
feelings  of  Goldsmith;  he  was  ready  at  any  time  to  help  the 
distressed,  but  in  this  instance  he  was  himself  in  some  measure 
a  cause  of  the  distress.  What  was  to  be  done?  He  had  no 
money,  it  is  true ;  but  there  hung  the  new  suit  of  clothes  in 
which  he  had  stood  his  unlucky  examination  at  Surgeons' 
Hall.  Without  giving  liimseK  time  for  reflection,  he  sent  it  off 
to  the  pawnbroker's,  and  raised  thereon  a  sufficient  smn  to  pay 
off  his  own  debt,  and  to  release  his  landlord  from  prison. 

Under  the  same  pressure  of  penury  and  despondency,  he 
borrowed  from  a  neighbor  a  pittance  to  relieve  his  immediate 
wants,  leaving  as  a  security  the  books  which  he  had  recently 
reviewed.  In  the  midst  of  these  straits  and  harassments,  he  re- 
ceived a  letter  from  Griffiths  demanding  in  peremptory  terms 
the  return  of  the  clothes  and  books,  or  immediate  payment  for 
the  same.  It  appears  that  he  had  discovered  the  identical  suit 
at  the  pawnbroker's.  The  reply  of  Goldsmith  is  not  known ; 
it  was  out  of  his  power  to  furnish  either  the  clothes  or  the 
money ;  but  he  probably  offered  once  more  to  make  the  muse 
stand  his  bail.  His  reply  only  increased  the  ire  of  the  wealthy 
man  of  trade,  and  drew  from  him  another  letter  still  more 
harsh  than  the  first,  using  the  epithets  of  knave  and  sharper, 
and  containing  threats  of  prosecution  and  a  prison. 

The  following  letter  from  poor  Goldsmith  gives  the  most  touch- 
ing picture  of  an  inconsiderate  but  sensitive  man,  harassed  by 
care,  stung  by  humiliations,  and  driven  almost  to  despondency 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  7.1 

; '  Sir  :  I  know  of  no  misery  but  a  jail  to  which  my  own  im- 
prudences and  your  letter  seem  to  point.  I  have  seen  it  inevi- 
table these  three  or  four  weeks,  and,  by  heavens !  request  it  as 
a  favor— as  a  favor  that  may  prevent  something  more  fatal.  I 
have  been  some  years  struggling  with  a  wretched  being — with 
all  that  contempt  that  indigence  brings  with  it— with  all  those 
passions  which  make  contempt  insupportable.  What,  then, 
has  a  jail  that  is  formidable?  I  shall  at  least  have  the  society 
of  wretches,  and  such  is  to  me  true  society.  I  tell  you,  again 
and  again,  that  I  am  neither  able  nor  willing  to  pay  you  a 
farthing,  but  I  will  be  punctual  to  any  appointment  you  or  the 
tailor  shall  make ;  thus  far,  at  least,  I  do  not  act  the  sharper, 
since,  unable  to  pay  my  own  debts  one  way,  I  would  generally 
give  some  security  another.  No,  sir ;  had  I  been  a  sharper — 
had  I  been  possessed  of  less  good-nature  and  native  generosity, 
I  might  surely  now  have  been  in  better  circumstances. 

"  I  am  guilty,  I  own,  of  meannesses  which  poverty  unavoid- 
ably brings  with  it ;  my  reflections  are  filled  with  repentance 
for  my  imprudence,  but  not  with  any  remorse  for  being  a  vill 
lain;  that  may  be  a  character  you  unjustly  charge  me  with. 
Your  books,  I  can  assure  you,  are  neither  pawned  nor  sold, 
but  in  the  custody  of  a  friend,  from  whom  my  necessities 
obliged  me  to  borrow  some  money ;  whatever  becomes  of  my 
person,  you  shall  have  them  in  a  month.  It  is  very  possible 
both  the  reports  you  have  heard  and  your  own  suggestions 
may  have  brought  you  false  information  with  respect  to  my 
character;  it  is  very  possible  that  the  man  whom  you  now 
regard  with  detestation  may  inwardly  burn  with  grateful  re- 
sentment. It  is  very  possible  that,  upon  a  second  perusal  of 
the  letter  I  sent  you,  you  may  see  the  workings  of  a  mind 
strongly  agitated  with  gratitude  and  jealousy.  If  such  cir- 
cumstances should  appear,  at  least  spare  invective  till  my  book 
with  Mr.  Dodsley  shall  be  published,  and  then,  perhaps,  you 
may  see  the  bright  side  of  a  roind,  when  my  professions  shall 
not  appear  the  dictates  of  necessity,  but  of  choice. 

' '  You  seem  to  think  Dr.  Milner  knew  me  not.  Perhaps  so ; 
but  he  was  a  man  I  shall  ever  honor ;  but  I  have  friendships 
only  with  the  dead !  I  ask  pardon  for  taking  up  so  much  time ; 
nor  shall  I  add  to  it  by  any  other  professions  than  that  I  am, 
sir,  your  humble  servant 

"  Oliver  Goldmtth. 

"  P.  S.—  I  shall  expect  impatiently  the  result  of  your  resolu- 
tions." 


76  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

The  dispute  between  the  poet  and  the  publisher  was  after- 
ward imperfectly  adjusted,  and  it  would  appear  that  the 
clothes  were  paid  for  by  a  short  compflation  advertised  by 
Griffiths  in  the  course  of  the  following  month ;  but  the  parties 
were  never  really  friends  afterwards,  and  the  writings  of  Gold 
smith  were  harshly  and  unjustly  treated  in  the  Monthly  Re 
vieiv. 

We  have  given  the  preceding  anecdote  in  detail,  as  furnish 
ing  one  of  the  many  instances  in  which  Goldsmith's  prompt 
and  benevolent  impulses  outran  all  prudent  forecast,  and  in- 
volved him  in  difficulties  and  disgraces,  which  a  more  selfish 
man  would  have  avoided.  The  pawning  of  the  clothes,  charged 
upon  him  as  a  crime  by  the  grinding  bookseller,  and  apparently 
admitted  by  him  as  one  of  ' '  the  meannesses  which  poverty 
unavoidably  brings  with  it,"  resulted,  as  we  have  shown,  from 
a  tenderness  of  heart  and  generosity  of  hand  in  which  another 
man  would  have  gloried ;  but  these  were  such  natural  elements 
with  him,  that  he  was  unconscious  of  their  merit.  It  is  a  pity 
that  wealth  does  not  oftener  bring  such  "meannesses"  in  its 
train. 

And  now  let  us  be  indulged  in  a  few  particulars  about  these 
lodgings  in  which  Goldsmith  was  guilty  of  this  thoughtless  act 
of  benevolence.  They  were  in  a  very  shabby  house,  No.  12 
Green  Arbor  Court,  between  the  Old  Bailey  and  Fleet  Market 
An  old  woman  was  still  living  in  1830  who  was  a  relative  of  the 
identical  landlady  whom  Goldsmith  relieved  by  the  money  re- 
ceived from  the  pawnbroker.  She  was  a  child  about  seven 
years  of  age  at  the  time  that  the  poet  rented  his  apartment  of 
her  relative,  and  used  frequently  to  be  at  the  house  in  Green 
Arbor  Court.  She  was  drawn  there,  in  a  great  measure,  by 
the  good-humored  kindness  of  Goldsmith,  who  was  always  ex- 
ceedingly fond  of  the  society  of  children.  He  used  to  assemble 
those  of  the  fairdly  in  his  room,  give  them  cakes  and  sweet 
meats,  and  set  them  dancing  to  the  sound  of  his  flute.  He  was 
very  friendly  to  those  around  him,  and  cultivated  a  kind  of 
intimacy  with  a  watchmaker  in  the  Court,  who  possessed 
much  native  wit  and  humor.  He  passed  most  of  the  d 
however,  in  his  room,  and  only  went  out  in  the  evenings.  His 
days  were  no  doubt  devoted  to  the  drudgery  of  the  pen,  and 
it  would  appear  that  he  occasionally  found  the  booksellers 
urgent  taskmasters.  On  one  occasion  a  visitor  was  shown  up 
to  his  room,  and  immediately  their  voices  were  heard  in  high 
altercation,  and  the  key  was  turned  within  the  lock.      The 


OldVMB  G 0 LI 'smith.  77 

landlady,  at  first,  was  disposed  to  go  to  the  assistance  of  her 
lodger ;  but  a  calm  succeeding,  she  forbore  to  interfere. 

Late  in  the  evening  the  door  was  unlocked;  a  supper  ordered 
by  the  visitor  from  a  neighboring  tavern,  and  Goldsmith  and 
his  intrusive  guest  finished  the  evening  in  great  good-humor. 
It  was  probably  his  old  taskmaster  Griffiths,  whose  press 
might  have  been  waiting,  and  who  found  no  other  mode  of 
getting  a  stipulated  task  from  Goldsmith  than  by  locking  him 
in,  and  staying  by  him  until  it  was  finished. 

But  we  have  a  more  particular  account  of  these  lodgings  in 
Green  Arbor  Court  from  the  Eev.  Thomas  Percy,  afterward 
Bishop  of  Dromore,  and  celebrated  for  his  relics  of  ancient 
poetry,  his  beautiful  ballads,  and  other  works.  During  an 
occasional  visit  to  London,  he  was  introduced  to  Goldsmith  by 
Grainger,  and  ever  after  continued  one  of  his  most  steadfast 
and  valued  friends.  The  following  is  his  description  of  the 
poet's  squalid  apartment :  "  I  called  on  Goldsmith  at  his  lodg- 
ings in  March,  1759,  and  found  him  writing  his  '  Inquiry  '  in  a 
miserable  dirty-looking  room,  in  which  there  was  but  one 
chair ;  and  when,  from  civility,  he  resigned  it  to  me,  he  him- 
self was  obliged  to  sit  in  the  window.  "While  we  were  con- 
versing together  some  one  tapped  gently  at  the  door,  and  being 
desired  to  come  in,  a  poor,  ragged  little  girl,  of  a  very  be- 
coming demeanor,  entered  the  room,  and  dropping  a  courte- 
sy, said,  '  My  mamma  sends  her  compliments  and  begs  the 
Eavor  of  you  to  lend  her  a  chamber-pot  full  of  coals.' " 

We  are  reminded  in  this  anecdote  of  Goldsmith's  picture  of 
the  lodgings  of  Beau  Tibbs,  and  of  the  peep  into  the  secrets  of  a 
makeshift  establishment  given  to  a  visitor  by  the  blundering 
(del  Scotch  woman. 

' '  By  this  time  we  were  arrived  as  high  as  the  stairs  would 
permit  us  to  ascend,  till  we  came  to  what  he  was  facetiously 
pleased  to  call  the  first  floor  down  the  chimney;  and,  knocking 
at  the  door,  a  voice  from  within  demanded  'Who's  there?' 
My  conductor  answered  that  it  was  him.  But  this  not  satisfy- 
ing the  querist,  the  voice  again  repeated  the  demand,  to  which 
he  answered  louder  than  before ;  and  now  the  door  was  opened 
by  an  old  woman  with  cautious  reluctance. 

' '  When  we  got  in  he  welcomed  me  to  his  house  Avith  great 
ceremony;  and,  turning  to  the  old  woman,  asked  where  was 
her  lady.  '  Good  troth, '  replied  she,  in  a  peculiar  dialect, 
'  she's  washing  your  twa  shirts  at  the  next  door,  because  they 
have  taken  an  oath  against  lending  the  tub  any  longer.'    '  My 


78  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

two  shirts, '  cried  he,  in  a  tone  that  faltered  with  confusion; 
1  what  does  the  idiot  mean? '  '  I  ken  what  I  mean  weel  enough, 
replied  the.  other ;  '  she's  washing  your  twa  shirts  at  the  next 
door,  because—'  '  Fire  and  fury !  no  more  of  thy  stupid  ex 
planations,' cried  he;  'go  and  inform  her  we  have  company. 
Were  that  Scotch  hag  to  be  for  ever  in  my  family,  she  would 
never  learn  politeness,  nor  forget  that  absurd  poisonous  accent 
of  hers,  or  testify  the  smallest  specimen  of  breeding  or  high 
life ;  and  yet  it  is  very  surprising  too,  as  I  had  her  from  a  Par- 
liament man,  a  friend  of  mine  from  the  Highlands,  one  of  the 
politest  men  in  the  world ;  but  that's  a  secret.' "  * 

Let  us  linger  a  little  in  Green  Arbor  Court,  a  place  conse- 
crated by  the  genius  and  the  poverty  of  Goldsmith,  but  re- 
cently obliterated  in  the  course  of  modern  improvements.  The 
writer  of  this  memoir  visited  it  not  many  years  since  on  a 
literary  pilgrimage,  and  may  be  excused  for  repeating  a  de- 
scription of  it  which  he  has  heretofore  inserted  in  another 
publication.  ' '  It  then  existed  in  its  pristine  state,  and  was  a 
small  square  of  tall  and  miserable  houses,  the  very  intestines 
of  which  seemed  turned  inside  out,  to  judge  from  the  old  gar- 
ments and  frippery  that  fluttered  from  every  window.  It  ap- 
peared to  be  a  region  of  washerwomen,  and  lines  were  stretched 
about  the  little  square,  on  which  clothes  were  dangling  to  dry. 

' '  Just  as  we  entered  the  square,  a  scuffle  took  place  between 
two  viragoes  about  a  disputed  right  to  a  washtub,  and  im- 
mediately the  whole  community  was  in  a  hubbub.  Heads  in 
mob-caps  popped  out  of  every  window,  and  such  a  clamor  of 
tongues  ensiled  that  I  was  fain  to  stop  my  ears.  Every  amazon 
took  part  with  one  or  other  of  the  disputants,  and  brandished 
her  arms,  dripping  with  soapsuds,  and  fired  away  from  her 
window  as  from  the  embrasure  of  a  fortress ;  while  the  screams 
of  children  nestled  and  cradled  in  every  procreant  chamber  of 
this  hive,  waking  with  the  noise,  set  up  their  shrill  pipes  to 
swell  the  general  concert,  "t 

While  in  these  forlorn  quarters,  suffering  under  extreme  de 
pression  of  spirits,  caused  by  his  failure  at  Surgeons'  Hall,  the 
disappointment   of  his  hopes,  and  his  harsh  collisions  with 
Griffiths,  Goldsmith  wrote  the  following  letter  to  his  brother 
Henry,  some  parts  of  which  are  most  touchingly  mournful. 


*  Citizen  of  the  World.  Letter  iv. 
t  Tales  of  a  Traveller. 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  79 

"Dear  Sir:  Your  punctuality  in  answering  a  man  whose 
trade  is  writing,  is  more  than  I  had  reason  to  expect ;  and  yet 
you  see  me  generally  till  a  whole  sheet,  which  is  all  the  re- 
compense I  can  make  for  being  so  frequently  troublesome. 
The  behavior  of  Mr.  Wells  and  Mr.  Lawder  is  a  little  extraor- 
dinary. However,  their  answering  neither  you  nor  me  is  a 
sufficient  indication  of  then  disliking  the  employment  which  I 
assigned  them.  As  their  conduct  is  different  from  what  I  had 
expected,  so  I  have  made  an  alteration  in  mine.  I  shall,  the 
beginning  of  next  month,  send  over  two  hundred  and  fifty 
books,*  which  are  all  that  I  fancy  can  be  weU  sold  among  you, 
and  I  would  have  you  make  some  distinction  in  the  persons 
who  have  subscribed.  The  money,  which  will  amount  to  sixty 
pounds,  may  be  left  with  Mr.  Bradley  as  soon  as  possible.  I 
am  not  certain  but  I  shall  quickly  have  occasion  for  it. 

' '  I  have  met  with  no  disappointment  with  respect  to  my 
East  India  voyage,  nor  are  my  resolutions  altered ;  though,  at 
the  same  time,  I  mUst  confess,  it  gives  me  some  pain  to  think 
I  am  almost  beginning  the  world  at  the  age  of  thirty-one. 
Though  I  never  had  a  day's  sickness  since  I  saw  you,  yet  I  am 
not  that  strong,  active  man  you  once  knew  me.  You  scarcely 
can  conceive  how  much  eight  years  of  disappointment,  an- 
guish, and  study  have  worn  me  down.  If  I  remember  right 
you  are  seven  or  eight  years  older  than  me,  yet  I  dare 
venture  to  say,  that,  if  a  stranger  saw  us  both,  he  would  pay 
me  the  honors  of  seniority.  Imagine  to  yourself  a  pale, 
melancholy  visage,  with  two  great  wrinkles  between  the  eye- 
brows, with  an  eye  disgustingly  severe,  and  a  big  wig ;  and 
you  may  have  a  perfect  picture  of  my  present  appearance.  On 
the  other  hand,  I  conceive  you  as  perfectly  sleek  and  healthy, 
passing  many  a  happy  day  among  your  own  children  or  those 
who  knew  you  a  child. 

' '  Since  I  knew  what  it  was  to  be  a  man,  this  is  a  pleasure  I 
have  not  known.  I  have  passed  my  days  among  a  parcel  of 
cool,  designing  beings,  and  have  contracted  all  their  suspicious 
manner  in  my  own  behavior.  I  should  actually  be  as  unfit  for 
the  society  of  my  friends  at  home,  as  I  detest  that  which  I  am 
obliged  to  partake  of  here.  I  can  now  neither  partake  of  the 
pleasure  of  a  revel,  nor  contribute  to  raise  its  jollity.  I  can 
neither  laugh  nor  drink;   have  contracted  a  hesitating,  dis- 

*  The  Inquiry  into  Polite  Literature.    His  previous  remarks  apply  to  the  sub- 
scription. 


80  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

agreeable  manner  of  speaking,  and  a  visage  that  looks  ill- 
nature  itself;  in  short,  I  have  thought  myself  into  a  settled 
melancholy,  and  an  utter  disgust  of  all  that  life  brings  with  it. 
Whence  this  romantic  turn  that  all  our  family  are  possessed 
Avith?  Whence  this  love  for  every  place  and  every  country 
but  that  in  which  we  reside — for  every  occupation  but  our 
own?  this  desire  of  fortune,  and  yet  this  eagerness  to  dissipate? 
I  perceive,  my  dear  sir,  that  I  am  at  intervals  for  indulging 
this  splenetic  manner,  and  following  my  own  taste,  regardless 
of  yours. 

' '  The  reasons  you  have  given  me  for  breeding  up  your  son  a 
scholar  are  judicious  and  convincing;  I  should,  however,  be 
glad  to  know  for  what  particular  profession  he  is  designed  If 
he  be  assiduous  and  divested  of  strong  passions  (for  passions 
in  youth  always  lead  to  pleasure),  he  may  do  very  well  in  your 
College;  for  it  must  be  owned  that  the  industrious  poor  have 
good  encouragement  there,  perhaps  better  than  in  any  other 
in  Europe.  But  if  he  has  ambition,  strong  passions,  and  an 
exquisite  sensibility  of  contempt,  do  not  send  him  there,  unless 
you  have  no  other  trade  for  him  but  your  own.  It  is  impossi- 
ble to  conceive  how  much  may  be  done  by  proper  education  at 
home.  A  boy,  for  instance,  who  understands  perfectly  well 
Latin,  French,  arithmetic,  and  the  principles  of  the  civil  law, 
and  can  write  a  fine  hand,  has  an  education  that  may  qualify 
him  for  any  undertaking ;  and  these  parts  of  learning  should 
be  carefully  inculcated,  let  him  be  designed  for  whatever  call- 
ing he  will. 

' '  Above  all  things,  let  him  never  touch  a  romance  or  novel ; 
these  paint  beauty  in  colors  more  charming  than  nature,  and 
describe  happiness  that  man  never  tastes.  How  delusive,  how 
destructive,  are  those  pictures  of  consummate  bliss!  They, 
teach  the  youthful  mind  to  sigh  after  beauty  and  happiness 
that  never  existed;  to  despise  the  little  good  which  fortune  has 
mixed  in  our  cup,  by  expecting  more  than  she  ever  gave ;  and, 
in  general,  take  the  word  of  a  man  who  has  seen  the  world, 
and  who  has  studied  human  nature  more  by  experience  than 
precept ;  take  my  word  for  if,  I  say,  that  books  teach  us  very 
little  of  the  world.  The  greatest  mejfit  in  a  state  of  poverty- 
would  only  serve  to  make  the  possessor  ridiculous — may  dis- 
tress, but  cannot  relieve  him.  Frugality,  and  even  avarice,  in 
the  lower  orders  of  mankind,  are" true  ambition.  These  afford 
the  only  ladder  for  the  poor  to  rise  to  preferment.  Teach 
then,  my  dear  sir,  to  your  son,  thrift  and  economy.     Let  his 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  .  81 

poor  wandering  uncle's  example  be  placed  before  his  eyes.  I 
had  learned  from  books  to  be  disinterested  and  generous, 
before  I  was  taught  from  experience  the  necessity  of  being 
prudfeiit.  I  had  contracted  the  habits  and  notions  of  a  phi- 
losopher, while  I  was  exposing  myself  to  the  approaches  of 
insidiotfi  cunning;  and  often  by  being,  even  with  my  narrow 
finances,  charitable  to  excess,  I  forgot  the  rules  of  justice,  and 
placed  myself  in  the  very  situation  of  the  wretch  who  thanked 
me  for  my  bounty.  When  I  am  in  the  remotest  part  of  the; 
world,  tell  Inm  this,  and  perhaps  he  may  improve  from  my 
example.  Bu^,  I  find  myself  again  falling  into  my  gloomy 
habits  of  thinking. 

"My  mother,  lam  informed,  is  almost  blind;  even  though  I 
had  the  utmost  inclination  to  return  home,  under  such  circum- 
stances I  could  not,  for  to  behold  her  in  distress  without  a 
capacity  of  relieving  her  from  it,  would  add  much  to  my 
splenetic  habit.  Your  last  letter  was  much  too  short;  it 
should  have  answered  some  queries  I  had  made  in  my  former. 
Just  sit  down  as  I  do,  and  write  forward  until  you  have  filled 
all  your  paper.  It  requires  no  thought,  at  least  from  the  ease 
with  which  my  own  sentiments  rise  when  they  are  addressed 
to  you.  For,  believe  me,  my  head  has  no  share  in  all  I  write ; 
my  heart  dictates  the  whole.  Pray  give  my  love  to  Bob  Bry- 
anton,  and  entreat  him  from  me  not  to  drink.  My  dear  sir, 
give  me  some  account  about  poor  Jenny.*  Yet  her  husband 
loves  her ;  if  so,  she  cannot  be  unhappy. 

' '  I  know  not  whether  I  should  tell  you  -yet  why  should  I 
conceal  these  trifles,  or,  indeed,  anything  from  you?  There  is 
a  book  of  mine  will  be  published  in  a  few  days :  the  life  of  a 
very  extraordinary  man;  no  less  than  the  great  Voltaire. 
You  know  already  by  the  title  that  it  is  no  more  than  a 
catch-penny.  However,  I  spent  but  four  weeks  on  the  whole 
performance,  for  which  I  received  twenty  pounds.  When 
published,  I  shall  take  some  method  of  conveying  it  to  you, 
unless  you  may  think  it  dear  of  the  postage,  which  may 
amount  to  four  or  five  shillings.  However,  I  fear  you  will  not 
find  an  equivalent  of  amusement. 

"Your  last  letter,  I  repeat  it,  was  too  short;  you  should 
have  given  me  your  opinion  of  the  design  of  the  heroi-comical 
poem  which  I  sent  you.    You  remember  I  intended  to  intro- 

*  His  sister,  Mrs.  Johnston;  her  marriage,  like  that  of  Mrs.  Hodson,  was  private, 
but  in  pecuniary  matters  much  less  fortr.nn.tr. 


82  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

duce  the  hero  of  the  poem  as  lying  in  a  paltry  alehouse.  Tou 
may  take  the  following  specimen  of  the  manner,  which  I  flat- 
ter myself  is  quite  original.  The  room  in  which  he  lies  may 
be  described  somewhat  in  this  way : 

"  '  The  window,  patched  with  paper,  lent  a  ray 
That  feebly  show'd  the  state  in  which  he  lay; 
The  sanded  floor  that  grits  beneath  the  tread, 
The  humid  wall  with  paltry  pictures  spread; 
The  game  of  goose  was  there  exposed  to  view, 
And  the  twelve  rules  the  royal  martyr  drew; 
The  Seasons,  framed  with  listing,  found  a  place. 
And  Prussia's  monarch  show'd  his  lamp  black  iace. 
The  morn  was  cold :  he  views  with  keen  desire 
A  rusty  grate  unconscious  of  a  Are ; 
An  unpaid  reckoning  on  the  frieze  was  scored, 
And  five  crack'd  teacups  dress'd  the  chimney  board.' 

' '  And  now  imagine,  after  his  soliloquy,  the  landlord  to  make 
his  appearance  in  order  to  dun  him  for  the  reckoning : 

"  '  Not  with  that  face,  so  servile  and  so  gay, 
That  welcomes  every  stranger  that  can  pay: 
With  sulky  eye  he  smoked  the  patient  man, 
Then  pull'd  his  breeches  tight,  and  thus  began,'  etc.* 

"All  this  is  taken,  you  see,  from  nature.  It  is  a  good 
remark  of  Montaigne's,  that  the  wisest  men  often  have  friends 
with  whom  they  do  not  care  how  much  they  play  the  fool. 
Take  my  present  follies  as  instances  of  my  regard.  Poetry  is 
a  much  easier  and  more  agreeable  species  of  composition  than 
prose;  and  could  a  man  live  by  it.  it  were  not  unpleasant 
employment  to  be  a  poet.  I  am  resolved  to  leave  no  space, 
though  I  should  fill  it  up  only  by  telling  you,  what  you  very 
well  know  already,  I  mean  that  I  am  your  most  affectionate 
friend  and  brother, 

' '  Oliver  Goldsmith.  " 

The  Life  of  Voltaire,  alluded  to  in  the  latter  part  .of  the 
preceding  letter,  was  the  literary  job  undertaken  to  satisfy  the 
demands  of  Griffiths.  It  was  to  have  preceded  a  translation 
of  the  Henriade,  by  Ned  Purdon,  Goldsmith's  old  schoolmate, 
now  a  Grub  Street  writer,  who  starved  rather  than  lived  by 
the  exercise  of  his  pen,  and  often  tasked  Goldsmith's  scanty 
means  to  relieve  his  hunger.  His  miserable  career  was 
summed  up  by  our  poet  in  the  following  lines  written  some 

*  The  projected  poem,  of  which  the  above  were  specimens,  appears  never  to 
have  been  completed. 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH  83 

years  after  the  time  we  are  treating  of,  on  hearing  that  he  had 
suddenly  dropped  dead  in  Smithfield : 

"  Here  lies  poor  Ned  Purdon,  from  misery  freed, 
Who  long  was  a  bookseller's  hack; 
He  led  such  a  damnable  life  in  this  world, 
I  don't  think  he'll  wish  to  come  back." 

The  memoir  and  translation,  though  advertised  to  form  a 
volume,  were  not  published  together ;  but  appeared  separately 
in  a  magazine. 

As  to  the  heroi-comical  poem,  also,  cited  in  the  foregoing 
letter,  it  appears  to  have  perished  in  embryo.  Had  it  been 
brought  to  maturity  we  should  have  had  further  traits  of 
autobiography ;  the  room  already  described  was  probably  his 
own  squalid  quarters  in  Green  Arbor  Court ;  and  in  a  subse- 
quent morsel  of  the  poem  we  have  the  poet  himself,  under  the 
euphonious  name  of  Scroggin: 

"  Where  the  Red  Lion  peering  o'er  the  way, 
Invites  each  passing  stranger  that  can  pay; 
Where  Calvert's  butt  and  Parson's  black  champaigne 
Regale  the  drabs  and  bloods  of  Drury  Lane: 
There,  in  a  lonely  room,  from  bailiffs  snug. 
The  muse  found  Scroggin  stretch'd  beneath  a  rug; 
A  nightcap  deck'd  his  brows  instead  of  bay, 
A  cap  by  night,  a  stocking  all  the  day!" 

It  is  to  be  regretted  that  this  poetical  conception  was  not 
carried  out;  like  the  author's  other  writings,  it  might  have 
abounded  with  pictures  of  life  and  touches  of  nature  drawn 
from  his  own  observation  and  experience,  and  mellowed  by 
his  own  humane  and  tolerant  spirit ;  and  might  have  been  a 
worthy  companion  or  rather  contrast  to  his  "  Traveller"  and 
"Deserted  Village,"  and  have  remained  in  the  language  a 
first-rate  specimen  of  the  mock-heroic. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

PUBLICATION  OF  "THE  INQUIRY"— ATTACKED  BY  GRIFFITHS'  RE- 
VIEW— KENRICK  THE  LITERARY  ISHMAELITE— PERIODICAL  LIT- 
ERATURE—  GOLDSMITH'S  ESSAYS — GARRICK  AS  A  MANAGER — 
SMOLLETT  AND  HIS  SCHEMES  —  CHANGE  OF  LODGINGS  —  THE 
ROBIN  HOOD   CLUB. 

Toward  the  end  of  March,  1759,  the  treatise  on  which  Gold- 
smith had  laid  so  much  stress,  on  which  he  at  one  time  had 


Si  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

calculated  to  defray  the  expenses  of  his  outfit  to  India,  and  to 
which  he  had  adverted  in  his  correspondence  with  Griffiths, 
made  its  appearance.  It  was  published  by  the  Dodsieys,  and 
entitled  "An  Inquiry  into  the  Present  State  of  Polite  Learning 
in  Europe." 

In  the  present  day,  when  the  whole  field  of  contemporary 
literature  is  so  widely  surveyed  and  amply  discussed,  and 
•when  the  current  productions  of  every  country  are  constantly 
collated  and  ably  criticised,  a  treatise  like  that  of  Goldsmith 
would  be  considered  as  extremely  limited  and  unsatisfactory ; 
but  at  that  time  it  possessed  novelty  in  its  views  and  wideness 
in  its  scope,  and  being  indued  with  the  peculiar  cb  irm  of  style 
inseparable  from  the  author,  it  commanded  public  attention 
and  a  profitable  sale.  As  it  was  the  most  important  pro- 
duction that  had  yet  come  from  Goldsmith's  pen,  he  was 
anxious  to  have  the  credit  of  it ;  yet  it  appeared  without  his 
name  on  the  title-page.  The  authorship,  however,  was  well 
known  throughout  the  world  of  letters,  and  the  author  had 
now  grown  into  sufficient  literary  importance  to  become  an 
object  of  hostility  to  the  underlings  of  the  press.  One  of  the 
most  virulent  attacks  upon  bim  was  in  a  criticism  on  this 
treatise,  and  appeared  in  the  Monthly  Review,  to  which  he 
himself  had  been  recently  a  contributor.  It  slandered  him  as 
a  man  while  it  decried  him  as  an  author,  and  accused  him, 
by  innuendo,  of  ' '  laboring  under  the  infamy  of  having,  by  the 
vilest  and  meanest  actions,  forfeited  all  pretensions  to  honor 
and  honesty,"  and  of  practising  "those  acts  which  bring  the 
sharper  to  the  cart's  tail  or  the  pillory." 

It  will  be  remembered  that  the  Review  was  owned  by 
Griffiths  the  bookseller,  with  whom  Goldsmith  had  recently 
had  a  misunderstanding.  The  criticism,  therefore,  was  no 
doubt  dictated  by  the  fingerings  of  resentment ;  and  the  impu- 
tations upon  Goldsmith's  character  for  honor  and  honesty, 
and  the  vile  and  mean  actions  hinted  at,  could  only  allude  to 
the  unfortunate  pawning  of  the  clothes.  All  this,  too.  was 
after  Griffiths  had  received  the  affecting  letter  from  Gold- 
smith, drawing  a  picture  of  his  poverty  and  perplexities,  and 
after  the  latter  had  made  him  a  literary  compensation. 
Griffiths,  in  fact,  was  sensible  of  the  falsehood  and  exti*ava- 
gance  of  the  attack,  and  tried  to  exonerate  himself  by 
declaring  that  the  criticism  was  written  by  a  person  in  his 
employ;  but  we  see  no  difference  in  atrocity  between  him  who 
wields  the  knife  and  him  who  hires  the  cut-throat.     It  may  be 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH  85 

well,  however,  in  passing,  to  bestow  our  mite  of  notoriety 
upon  the  miscreant  who  launched  the  slander.  He  deserves 
it  fox*  a  long  course  of  dastardly  and  venomous  attacks,  not 
merely  upon  Goldsmith,  but  upon  most  of  the  successful 
authors  of  the  day.  His  name  was  Kenrick.  He  was  origi- 
nally a  mechanic,  but,  possessing  some  degree  of  talent  and 
industry,  applied  himself  to  literature  as  a  profession.  This 
he  pursued  for  many  years,  and  tried  his  hand  in  every 
department  of  prose  and  poetry ;  he  wrote  plays  and  satires, 
philosophical  tracts,  critical  dissertations,  and  works  on  phi- 
lology ;  nothing  from  his  pen  ever  rose  to  first-rate  excellence, 
or  gained  him  a  popular  name,  though  he  received  from  some 
university  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Laws.  Dr.  Johnson 
characterized  his  literary  career  in  one  short  sentence.  "Sir, 
he  is  one  of  the  many  who  have  made  themselves  public  with- 
out making  themselves  known." 

Soured  by  his  own  want  of  success,  jealous  of  the  success  of 
others,  his  natural  irritability  of  temper  increased  by  habits 
of  intemperance,  he  at  length  abandoned  himself  to  the 
practice  of  reviewing,  and  became  one  of  the  Ishmaelites  of 
the  press.  In  this  his  malignant  bitterness  soon  gave  him 
a  notoriety  which  his  talents  had  never  been  able  to  attain. 
We  shall  dismiss  him  for  the  present  with  the  following  sketch 
of  him  by  the  hand  of  one  of  his  contemporaries : 

"  Dreaming  of  genius  which  he  never  had, 
Halfwit,  half  fool,  half  critic,  and  half  mad;" 
Seizing,  like  Shirley,  on  the  poet" s  lyre, 
With  all  his  rage,  but  not  one  spark  of  fire; 
Eager  for  slaughter,  and  resolved  to  tear 
From  others'  brows  that  wreath  he  must  not  wear- 
Next  Kenrick  came:  all  furious  and  replete 
With  brandy,  malice,  pertness,  and  conceit; 
Unskiird  in  classic  lore,  through  envy  blind 
To  all  that's  beauteous,  learned,  or  refined; 
For  faults  alone  behold  the  savage  prowl. 
With  reason's  offal  glut  his  ravening  soul : 
Pleased  with  his  prey,  its  inmost  blood  he  drinks, 
And  mumbles,  paws,  and  turns  i t — riil  it  stinks." 

The  British  press  about  this  time  was  extravagantly  fruitful 
of  periodical  publications.  That  "oldest  inhabitant,"  the  Gen- 
tleman's Magazine,  almost  coeval  with  St.  John's  gate  which 
graced  its  title-page,  had  long  been  elbowed  by  magazines  and 
reviews  of  all  kinds;  Johnson's  Rambler  had  introduced  the 
fashion  of  periodical  essays,  which  he  had  followed  up  in  his 
Adventurer  and  Idler,     imitations  had  sprung  up  on  every 


OLIVER   GOLD  SMITH. 

side,  under  every  variety  of  name ;  until  British  literature 
entirely  overrun  by  a  weedy  and  transient  efflorescence.     Many 
of  these  rival  periodicals  choked  each  other  almost  at  the  out- 
set, and  few  of  them  have  escaped  oblivion. 

- .  Idsmith  wrote  for  some  of  the  m  I.  such  as 

the  Bee.  the  Busy-Body,  and  the  Lady's  Magazine.     Hi- 
says,  though  characterized  by  his  delightful  style,  his  pure, 
benevolent  morality,  and  his  mellow,  unobtrusive  humor,  did 
produce  equal  effect  at  first  with  more  garish  writings  of 
infinitely  less  value :  they  did  stril         a~  it  is  termed : 

but  they  had  that  rare  and  enduring  merit  which  ri-es  in 
mation  on  every  perusal.     They    gradually   stole  upon    the 
heart  of  the  public,  w  I  into  numerous  contemporary 

publications,  and  now  they  are  garnered  up  among  the  choice 
produ  i  British  literatu: 

In  his  Inquiry  into  the   -  of  Polite  Learning  Goldsmith 

had  given  offence  to  David  G-arrick.  at  that  time  the  autocrat 
of  the  Drama,  and  was  doomed  to  experience  its  effect.  A 
clamor  had  been  raised  aga  nrrick  for  ex-  g  a  des- 

5T  the  si    a  :  orward  nothing  but  old 

plays  to  the  exclusion  of       -  .etions.     W  -joined 

in  this  charge.  "•Garrick."  said  he.  "is  treating  the  town  as 
it  d—         -  anduk  ted;  with  scenes,  fireworks,  and 

hi.?  own   writings.    A  good  new  play  I  never  expect  to 
more:   nor  have  seen  since  the  Provoked  Husband,    which 
cam         I    when  I  joL"     Goldsmith,  wh  ex- 

trer.  f  the  T  and  felt  the  evils  of  this  system, 

inveighed   in  his   treat:  he    wrongs   experienced 

by  aut":  the  hands  of  m  ••Our  poet's  perform- 

ance." said  he.  •"must  undergo  a  y  truly  ehemi  -ore 

H      preser,  vhe  public.     Itm  1  in  the  m: 

fire:  strained  through  a  lice  0  r  from  re;  erec- 

tions, till  it  maybe  a  mere  caput  turn  when  it  an: 

:he  pubhc."'     Again.     "  Getting  a  play  on  even  in  three 
or  four  years  is  a  privil  s  j  >r  the  happy  I 

•    "hearts  the  manager  as  well  as  the  m 

who  have  adulation  to  please  1  fal  patrons 

merit,  or  :  to  indemnify  disappointment. 

=1    H  had  but  one  name  for  a  wit  and  a  witch. 

Dot  dis]  fcy  of  uniting  those  characl 

then:   I  :.n  who  unde:  nragements  ven- 

for  the  stage,  whatever  claim  he  may  have  to 

i  of  a  wit   at  le  no  right  to  be  called  a 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  87 

conjurer."  But  a  passage  perhaps  which  touched  more  sensi- 
bly than  all  the  rest  on  the  sensibilities  of  Garrick,  was  the 
following. 

'  •  I  have  no  particular  spleen  against  the  fellow  who  sweeps 
the  stage  with  the  besom,  or  the  hero  who  brushes  it  with  his 
train.  It  were  a  matter  of  indiiference  to  me  whether  our 
heroines  are  in  keeping,  or  our  caudle-snuffers  bum  their 
fingers,  did  not  such  make  a  great  part  of  public  care  and 
pohte  conversation.  Our  actors  assume  all  that  state  off  the 
stage  which  they  do  on  it ;  and,  to  use  an  expression  borrowed 
from  the  green-room,  every  one  is  up  in  his  part.  I  am  sorry 
to  say  it,  they  seem  to  forget  then  real  characters." 

These  strictures  were  considered  by  Garrick  as  intended  for 
himself,  and  they  were  rankling  in  his  mind  when  Goldsmith 
waited  upon  Mm  and  solicited  his  vote  for  the  vacant  secre- 
taryship of  the  Society  of  Arts,  of  which  the  manager  was  a 
member.  Garrick.  puffed  up  by  his  dramatic  renown  and  his 
intimacy  with  the  great,  and  knowing  Goldsmith  only  by  bis 
budding  reputation,  may  not  have  considered  him  of  sufficient 
importance  to  be  conciliated.  In  reply  to  his  solicitations,  he 
observed  that  he  could  hardly  expect  his  friendly  exertions 
after  the  unprovoked  attack  he  had  made  upon  his  manage- 
ment. Goldsmith  replied  that  he  had  indulged  in  no  person- 
alities, and  had  only  spoken  what  he  believed  to  be  the  truth. 
He  made  no  further  apology  nor  application ;  faded  to  get  the 
appointment,  and  considered  Garrick  his  enemy.  In  the 
second  edition  of  his  treatise  he  expunged  or  modified  the 
passages  which  had  given  the  manager  offence ;  but  though 
the  author  and  actor  became  intimate  in  after  years,  this  false 
step  at  the  outset  of  their  intercourse  was  never  forgotten. 

About  this  time  Goldsmith  engaged  with  Dr.  Smollett,  who 
was  about  to  launch  the  British  Magazine.  Smollett  was  a 
complete  schemer  and  speculator  in  literature,  and  intent  upon 
enterprises  that  had  money  rather  than  reputation  in  view. 
Goldsmith  has  a  good-humored  hit  at  this  propensity  in  one 
of  his  papers  in  the  Bee.  in  which  he  represents  Johnson 
Hume,  and  others  taking  seats  in  the  stage-coach  bound  for 
Fame,  while  Smollett  prefers  that  destined  for  Eiches. 

Another  prominent  employer  of  Goldsmith  was  Mr.  John 
Newbery,  who  engaged  him  to  contribute  occasional  essays  to 
a  newspaper  entitled  the  Public  Ledger,  which  made  its  first 
appearance  on  the  12th  of  January.  1760.  His  most  valuable 
and  characteristic  contributions  to  this  paper  were  his  Chinese 


88  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

Letters,  subsequently  modified  into  the  Citizen  of  the  World. 
These  lucubrations  attracted  general  attention;  they  were  re- 
printed in  the  various  periodical  publications  of  the  day,  and 
met  with  great  applause.  The  name  of  the  author,  however, 
was  as  yet  but  little  known. 

Being  now  in  easier  circumstances,  and  in  the  receipt  of  fre- 
quent sums  from  the  booksellers,  Goldsmith,  about  the  middle 
of  1700,  emerged  from  his  dismal  abode  in  Green  Arbor  Court, 
and  took  respectable  apartments  in  Wine-Office  Court,  Fleet 
Street. 

Still  he  continued  to  look  back  with  considerate  benevolence 
to  the  poor  hostess,  whose  necessities  he  had  relieved  by  pawn- 
ing his  gala  coat,  for  we  are  told  that  ; '  he  often  supplied  her 
with,  food  from  his  own  ta  md  visited  her  frequently  with 
the  sole  purpose  to  be  kin 

He  now  became  a  member  of  a  debating  club,  called  the 
Robin  Hood,  which  used  to  meet  near  Temple  Bar,  and  in 
ivhich  Burke,  while  yet  a  Temple  student,  had  first  tried  his 
powers.  Goldsmith  spoke  here  occasionally,  and  is  recorded 
in  the  Robin  Hood  archives  as  "a  candid  disputant,  with  a 
clear  head  and  an  honest  heart,  though  coming  but  seldom  to 
the  society."  His  relish  was  for  clubs  of  a  more  social,  jovial 
nature,  and  he  was  never  fond  of  argument.  An  amusing 
anecdote  is  told  of  his  first  introduction  to  the  club,  by  Samuel 
Derrick,  an  Irish  acquaintance  of  some  humor.  On  entering, 
Goldsmith  was  struck  with  the  self-important  appearance  of 
the  chairman  ensconced  in  a  large  gilt  chair.  "This,"  said  he, 
"must  be  the  Lord  Chancellor  at  least."  "No,  no,"  replied 
Derrick,  "he's  only  master  of  the  rolls.'1'' — The  chairman  was  a 
baker. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

NEW     LODGINGS— VISITS     OF     CEREMONY— HANGERS-ON — PILKING 
TON  AND   THE  WHITE    MOUSE— INTRODUCTION    TO   DR.    JOHNSON 
— DAVIES    AND    HIS    BOOKSHOP— PRETTY    MRS.     DAVIES— FOOTE 
AND  HIS  PROJECTS— CRITICISM  OF  THE  CUDGEL- 

In  his  new  lodgings  in  Wine-Office""Court,  Goldsmith  began 
to  receive  visits  of  ceremony,  and  to  entertain  his  literary 
friends,     Among  the  latter  lie  now  numbered  several  names  of 


OLIVEH   GOLDSMITH.  89 

note,  such  as  Guthrie,  Murphy,  Christopher  Smart,  and  Bick- 
erstaff.  He  had  also  a  numerous  class  of  hangers-on,  the 
small-fry  of  literature;  who,  knowing  his  almost  utter  incapa- 
city to  refuse  a  pecuniary  request,  were  apt,  now  that  he  was 
considered  flush,  to  levy  continual  taxes  upon  his  purse. 

Among  others,  one  Pilkington,  an  old  college  acquaintance, 
but  now  a  shifting  adventurer,  duped  him  in  the  most  ludi- 
crous manner.  He  called  on  him  with  a  face  full  of  perplexi- 
ty. A  lady  of  the  first  rank  having  an  extraordinary  fancy 
for  curious  animals,  for  which  she  was  willing  to  give  enor- 
mous sums,  he  had  procured  a  couple  of  white  mice  to  be  for- 
warded to  her  from  India.  They  were  actually  on  board  of  a 
ship  in  the  river.  Her  grace  had  been  apprised  of  their 
arrival,  and  was  all  impatience  to  see  them.  Unfortunately, 
he  had  no  cage  to  put  thera  in,  nor  clothes  to  appear  in  before 
a  lady  of  her  rank.  Two  guineas  would  be  sufficient  for  his 
purpose,  but  where  were  two  guineas  to  be  procured ! 

The  simple  heart  of  Goldsmith  was  touched;  but,  alas!  he 
had  but  half  a  guinea  in  his  pocket.  It  was  unfortunate ;  but 
after  a  pause  his  friend  suggested,  with  some  hesitation,  "that 
muney  might  be  raised  upon  his  watch;  it  would  but  be  the 
loan  of  a  few  hours."  So  said,  so  done;  the  watch  was  de- 
livered to  the  worthy  Mr.  Pilkington  to  be  pledged  at  a  neigh- 
boring pawnbroker's,  bat  nothing  farther  was  ever  seen  of 
him,  the  watch,  or  the  white  mice.  The  next  that  Goldsmith 
heard  of  the  poor  shifting  scapegrace,  hewas  on  his  death- 
bed, starving  with  want,  upon  which,  forgetting  or  forgiving 
the  trick  he  had  played  upon  him,  he  sent  him  a  guinea.  In- 
deed, he  used  often  to  relate  with  great  humor  the  foregoing 
anecdote  of  his  credulity,  and  was  ultimately  in  some  degree 
indemnified  by  its  suggesting  to  him  the  amusing  little  story 
of  Prince  Bonbennin  and  the  White  Mouse  in  the  Citizen  of  the 
World. 

In  this  year,  Goldsmith  became  personally  acquainted  with 
Dr.  Johnson,  toward  whom  he  was  drawn  by  strong  sympa- 
thies, though  their  natures  were  widely  different.  Both  had 
struggled  from  early  life  with  poverty,  but  had  struggled  in 
different  ways.  Goldsmith,  buoyant,  heedless,  sanguine,  toler- 
ant of  evils  and  easily  pleased,  had  shifted  along  by  any  tem- 
porary expedient ;  cast  down  at  every  turn,  but  rising  again 
with  indomitable  good-humor,  and  still  carried  forward  by  his 
talent  at  hoping.  Johnson,  melancholy,  and  hypochondria.'.!], 
and  prone  to  apprehend  the  worst,  yet  sternly  resolute  to 


90  OLIVER  O  OLD  SMITH. 

battle  with  and  conquer  it,  had  made  his  way  doggedly  and 
gloomily,  but  with  a  noble  principle  of  self-reliance  and  a  dis- 
regard of  foreign  aid.  Both  had  been  irregular  at  college,— 
Goldsmith,  as  we  have  shown,  from  the  levity  of  his  nature 
and  his  social  and  convivial  habits ;  Johnson,  from  his  acerbity 
and  gloom.  When,  in  after  life,  the  latter  heard  himself 
spoken  of  as  gay  and  frolicsome  at  college,  because  he  had 
joined  in  some  riotous  excesses  there,  "Ah,  sir!"  replied  he, 
' '  I  was  mad  and  violent.  It  was  bitterness  which  they  mis- 
took for  frolic.  I  was  miserably  poor,  and  I  thought  to  fight 
my  way  by  my  literature  and  my  wit.  So  I  disregarded  all 
power  and  all  authority." 

Goldsmith's  poverty  was  never  accompanied  by  bitterness ; 
but  neither  was  it  accompanied  by  the  guardian  pride  which 
kept  Johnson  from  falling  into  the  degrading  shifts  of  poverty. 
Goldsmith  had  an  unfortunate  facility  at  borrowing,  and  help- 
ing himself  along  by  the  contributions  of  his  friends ;  no  doubt 
trusting,  in  his  hopeful  way,  of  one  day  making  retribution. 
Johnson  never  hoped,  and  therefore  never  borrowed.  In  his 
sternest  trials  he  proudly  bore  the  ills  he  could  not  master.  In 
his  youth,  when  some  unknown  friend,  seeing  his  shoes  com- 
pletely worn  out,  left  a  new  pair  at  his  chamber  door,  he  dis- 
dained to  accept  the  boon,  and  threw  them  away. 

Though  like  Goldsmith  an  immethodical  student,  he  had 
imbibed  deeper  draughts  of  knowledge,  and  made  himself  a 
riper  scholar.  While  Goldsmith's  happy  constitution  and 
genial  humors  carried  him  abroad  into  sunshine  and  enjoy- 
ment, Johnson's  physical  infirmities  and  mental  gloom  drove 
him  upon  himself ;  to  the  resources  of  reading  and  meditation ; 
threw  a  deeper  though  darker  enthusiasm  into  his  mind,  and 
stored  a  retentive  memory  with  all  kinds  of  knowledge. 

After  several  years  of  youth  passed  in  the  country  as  usher, 
teacher,  and  an  occasional  writer  for  the  press,  Johnson,  when 
twenty-eight  years  of  age,  came  up  to  London  with  a  half- 
written  tragedy  in  his  pocket;  and  David  Garrick,  late  his 
pupil,  and  several  years  his  junior,  as  a  companion,  both  poor 
and  penniless,  both,  like  Goldsmith,  seeking  their  fortune  in 
the  metropolis.  "We  rode  and  tied,"  said  Garrick  sportively 
in  after  years  of  prosperity,  when  he  spoke  of  their  humble 
wayfaring.  "I  came  to  London,"  said  Johnson,  "with  two- 
pence half  penny  in  my  pocket. "  "Eh,  what's  that  you  say?" 
cried  Garrick,  "with  twopence  halfpenny  in  your  pocket?" 
"Why,  yes;  I  came  with  twopence  halfpenny  in  my  pocket. 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  gj 

and  thou,  Davy,  with  but  three  halfpence  in  thine."  Nor  was 
there  much  exaggeration  in  the  picture ;  for  so  poor  were  they 
in  purse  and  credit,  that  after  their  arrival  they  had,  with  diffi- 
culty, raised  five  pounds,  by  giving  their  joint  note  to  a  book- 
seller in  the  Strand. 

Many,  many  years  had  Johnson  gone  on  obscurely  in  London, 
"fighting  his  way  by  his  literature  and  his  wit;"  enduring  all 
the  hardships  and  miseries  of  a  Grub  Street  writer ;  so  desti- 
tute at  one  time,  that  he  and  Savage  the  poet  had  walked  all 
night  about  St.  James's  Square,  both  too  poor  to  pay  for  a 
night's  lodging,  yet  both  full  of  poetry  and  patriotism,  and 
determined  to  stand  by  their  country ;  so  shabby  in  dress  at 
another  time,  that  when  he  dined  at  Cave's,  his  bookseller, 
when  there  was  prosperous  company,  he  could  not  make  his 
appearance  at  table,  but  had  his  dinner  handed  to  him  behind 
a  screen. 

Yet  through  all  the  long  and  dreary  struggle,  often  diseased 
in  mind  as  well  as  in  body,  he  had  been  resolutely  self-depen- 
dent, and  proudly  self -respectful ;  he  had  fulfilled  his  college 
vow,  he  had  "fought  his  way  by  his  literature  and  his  wit." 
His  ' '  Rambler"  and  ' '  Idler"  had  made  him  the  great  moralist 
of  the  age,  and  his  "Dictionary  and  History  of  the  English 
Language,"  that  stupendous  monument  of  individual  labor, 
had  excited  the  admiration  of  the  learned  world.  He  was  now 
at  the  head  of  intellectual  society;  and  had  become  as  dis- 
tinguished by  his  conversational  as  his  literary  powers.  He 
had  become  as  much  an  autocrat  in  his  sphere  as  his  fellow- 
wayfarer  and  adventurer  Garrick  had  become  of  the  stage, 
and  had  been  humorously  dubbed  by  Smollett,  "The  Great 
Cham  of  Literature." 

Such  was  Dr.  Johnson,  when  on  the  31st  of  May,  1761,  he 
was  to  make  his  appearance  as  a  guest  at  a  literary  supper 
given  by  Goldsmith,  to  a  numerous  party  at  his  new  lodgings 
in  Wine-Office  Court.  It  was  the  opening  of  their  acquaint- 
ance. Johnson  had  felt  and  acknowledged  the  merit  of  Gold- 
smith as  an  author,  and  been  pleased  by  the  honorable  mention 
made  of  himself  in  the  Bee  and  the  "Chinese  Letters."  Dr. 
Percy  called  upon  Johnson  to  take  him  to  Goldsmith's  lodgings ; 
he  found  Johnson  arrayed  with  unusual  care  in  a  new  suit  of 
clothes,  a  new  hat,  and  a  well-powdered  wig;  and  could  not 
but  notice  his  uncommon  spruceness.  "Why,  sir,"  replied 
Johnson,  "I  hear  that  Goldsmith, .who  is  a  very  great  sloven, 
justifies  his  disregard  of  cleanliness  and  decency  by  quoting 


92  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.' 

my  practice,  and  I  am  desirous  this  night  to  show  him  a  better 
example." 

The  acquaintance  thus  commenced  ripened  into  intimacy  in 
the  course  of  frequent  meetings  at  the  shop  of  Davies,  the 
bookseller,  in  Russell  Street,  Covent  Garden.  As  this  was  one 
of  the  literary  gossiping  places  of  the  day,  especially  to  the 
circle  over  which  Johnson  presided,  it  is  worthy  of  some 
specification.  Mr.  Thomas  Davies,  noted  in  after  times  as  the 
biographer  of  Garrick,  had  originally  been  on  the  stage,  and 
though  a  small  man  had  enacted  tyrannical  tragedy,  with  a 
pomp  and  magniloquence  beyond  his  size,  if  we  may  trust  the 
description  given  of  him  by  Churchill  in  the  Rosciad : 

"Statesman  all  over-  in  plots  famous  grown, 
He  mouths  a  sentence  as  curs  mouth  a  bone." 

This  unlucky  sentence  is  said  to  have  crippled  him  in  the 
midst  of  his  tragic  career,  and  ultimately  to  have  driven  him 
from  the  stage.  He  carried  into  the  bookselling  craft  some- 
what of  the  grandiose  manner  of  the  stage,  and  was  prone  to 
be  mouthy  and  magniloquent. 

Churchill  had  intimated,  that  while  on  the  stage  he  was  more 
noted  for  his  pretty  wife  than  his  good  acting : 

"  With  him  came  mighty  Davies;  on  my  life, 
That  fellow  has  a  very  pretty  wife." 

"Pretty  Mrs.  Davies,"  continued  to  be  the  lode-star  of  his 
fortunes.  Her  tea-table  became  almost  as  much  a  literary 
lounge  as  her  husband's  shop.  She  found  favor  in  the  eyes  of 
the  Ursa  Major  of  literature  by  her  winning  ways,  as  she  poured 
out  for  him  cups  without  stint  of  his  favorite  beverage.  In- 
deed it  is  suggested  that  she  was  one  leading  cause  of  his  habit- 
ual resort  to  this  literary  haunt.  Others  were  drawn  thither 
for  the  sake  of  Johnson's  conversation,  and  thus  it  became  a 
resort  of  many  of  the  notorieties  of  the  day.  Here  might 
occasionally  be  seen  Bennet  Langton,  George  Steevens,  Dr. 
Percy,  celebrated  for  his  ancient  ballads,  and  sometimes  War- 
burton  in  prelatic  state.  Garrick  resorted  to  it  for  a  time,  but 
soon  grew  shy  and  suspicious,  declaring  that  most  of  the 
authors  who  frequented  Mr.  Davies's  shop  went  merely  to 
abuse  him. 

Foote,  the  Aristophanes  of  the  day,  was  a  frequent  visitor ; 
his  broad  face  beaming  with  fun  and  waggery,  ami  his  satirical 
eye  ever  on  the  lookout  for  characters  and  incidents  for  his 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  93 

farces.  Ho  was  struck  with  the  odd  habits  and  appearance  of 
Johnson  and  Goldsmith,  now  so  often  brought  together  in 
Davies's  shop.  He  was  about  to  put  on  the  stage  a  farce  called 
The  Orators,  intended  as  a  hit  at  the  Robin  Hood  debating 
club,  and  resolved  to  show  up  the  two  doctors  in  it  for  the 
entertainment  of  the  town. 

"  What  is  the  common  price  of  an  oak  stick,  sir?"  said 
Johnson  to  Davies.  "  Sixpence,"  was  the  reply.  "  Why,  then, 
sir,  give  me  leave  to  send  your  servant  to  purchase  a  shilling 
one.  I'll  have  a  double  quantity ;  for  I  am  told  Foote  means 
to  take  me  off,  as  he  calls  it,  and  I  am  determined  the  fellow 
shall  not  do  it  with  impunity." 

Foote  had  no  disposition*  to  undergo  the  criticism  of  the  cud- 
gel Avielded  by  such  potent  hands,  so  the  farce  of  The  Orators 
appeared  without  the  caricatures  of  the  lexicographer  and  the 
essayist. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

ORIENTAL  PROJECTS —LITERARY  JOBS— THE  CHEROKEE  CHIEFS- 
MERRY  ISLINGTON  AND  THE  WHITE  CONDUIT  HOUSE  -  LETTERS 
ON  THE  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND— JAMES  BOSWELL— DINNER  OF 
DAVIES— ANECDOTES  OF  JOHNSON  AND   GOLDSMITH. 

Notwithstanding  his  growing  success,  Goldsmith  continued 
to  consider  literature  a  mere  makeshift,  and  his  vagrant  im- 
agination teemed  with  schemes  and  plans  of  a  grand  but  in- 
definite nature.  One  was  for  visiting  the  East  and  exploring 
the  interior  of  Asia.  He  had,  as  has  been  before  observed,  a 
vague  notion  that  valuable  discoveries  were  to  be  made  there, 
and  many  useful  inventions  in  the  arts  brought  back  to  the 
stock  of  European  know  ledge.  "Thus,  in  Siberian  Tartary," 
observes  he  in  one  of  his  writings,  "the  natives  extract  a 
strong  spirit  from  milk,  which  is  a  secret  probably  unknown 
to  the  chemists  of  Europe.  In  the  most  savage  parts  of  In- 
dia they  are  possessed  of  the  secret  of  dying  vegetable  sub- 
stances scarlet,  and  that  of  refining  lead  into  a  metal  which, 
for  hardness  and  color,  is  little  inferior  to  silver." 

Goldsmith  adds  a  description  of  the  kind  of  person  suited 
to  such  an  enterprise,  in  which  he  evidently  had  himself  in 
view. 


94  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

"He  should  be  a  man  of  philosophical  turn,  one  apt  to 
deduce  consequences  of  general  utility  from  particular  occur- 
rences ■  neither  swoln  with  pride,  nor  hardened  by  prejudice ; 
neither  wedded  to  one  particular  system,  nor  instructed  only 
in  one  particular  science ;  neither  wholly  a  botanist,  nor  quite 
an  antiquarian;  his  mind  should  be  tinctured  with  miscel- 
laneous knowledge,  and  his  manners  humanized  by  an  inter- 
course with  men.  He  should  be  in  some  measure  an  en- 
thusiast to  the  design;  fond  of  travelling,  from  a  rapid 
imagination  and  an  innate  love  of  change;  furnished  with 
a  boay  capable  of  sustaining  every  fatigue,  and  a  heart 
not  easily  terrified  at  danger." 

In  1761,  when  Lord  Bute  became  prime  minister  on  the 
accession  of  George  the  Third,  Goldsmith  drew  up  a  me- 
morial on  the  subject,  suggesting  the  advantages  to  be  derived 
from  a  mission  to  those  countries  solely  for  useful  and 
scientific  purposes;  and,  the  better  to  insure  success,  he 
preceded  his  application  to  the  government  by  an  ingenious 
essay  to  the  same  effect  in  the  Public  Ledger. 

His  memorial  and  his  essay  were  fruitless,  his  project  most 
probably  being  deemed  the  dream  of  a  visionary.  Still  it 
continued  to  haunt  his  mind,  and  he  would  often  talk  of 
making  an  expedition  to  Aleppo  some  time  or  other,  when 
his  means  were  greater,  to  inquire  into  the  arts  peculiar 
to  the  East,  and  to  bring  home  such  as  might  be  valuable. 
Johnson,  who  knew  how  little  poor  Goldsmith  was  fitted  by 
scientific  lore  for  this  favorite  scheme  of  his  fancy,  scoffed  at 
the  project  when  it  was  mentioned  to  him.  "Of  all  men," 
said  he.  ' '  Goldsmith  is  the  most  unfit  to  go  out  upon  such  an 
inquiry,  for  he  is  utterly  ignorant  of  such  arts  as  we  already 
possess,  and,  consequently,  could  not  know  what  would  be 
accessions  to  our  present  stock  of  mechanical  knowledge.  Sir, 
he  would  bring  home  a  grinding  barrow,  which  you  see  in 
every  street  in  London,  and  think  that  he  had  furnished  a 
wonderful  improvement." 

His  connection  with  Newbery  the  bookseller  now  led  him 
into  a  variety  of  temporary  jobs,  such  as  a  pamphlet  on  the 
Cock-lane  Ghost,  a  Life  of  Beau  Nash,  the  famous  Master  of 
Ceremonies  at  Bath,  etc. ;  one  of  the  best  things  for  his  fame, 
however,  was  the  remodelling  and  republication  of  Ms  Chinese 
Letters  under  the  title  of  "  The  Citizen  of  the  World,"  a  work 
which  has  Ions  since  taken  its  merited  stand  among  the 
classics  of  the  English  language.     "  Few  works, "  it  has  been 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  9.") 

observed  by  one  of  bis  biographers,  "exhibit  a  nicer  percep- 
tion, or  more  delicate  delineation  of  life  and  manners.  Wit, 
humor,  and  sentiment  pervade  every  page ;  the  vices  and  f  ol- 
lies  of  the  day  are  touched  with  the  most  playful  and  diverting 
satire ;  and  English  characteristics,  in  endless  variety,  are  hit 
off  with  the  pencil  of  a  master." 

In  seeking  materials  for  his  varied  views  of  life,  he  often 
mingled  in  strange  scenes  and  got  involved  in  whimsical  situa- 
tions. In  the  summer  of  1762  he  was  one  of  the  thousands 
who  went  to  see  the  Cherokee  chiefs,  whom  he  mentions  in 
one  of  his  writings.  The  Indians  made  their  appearance  in 
grand  costume,  hideously  painted  and  besmeared.  In  the 
course  of  the  visit  Goldsmifh  made  one  of  the  chiefs  a  present, 
who,  in  the  ecstasy  of  his  gratitude,  gave  him  an  embrace 
that  left  his  face  well  bedaubed  with  oil  and  red  ochre. 

Toward  the  close  of  1762  he  removed  to  ' '  merry  Islington, " 
then  a  country  village,  though  now  swallowed  up  in  omni- 
vorous London.  He  went  there  for  the  benefit  of  country  air, 
his  health  being  injured  by  literary  application  and  confine- 
ment, and  to  be  near  his  chief  employer,  Mr.  Newbery,  who 
resided  in  the  Canonbury  House.  In  this  neighborhood  he 
used  to  take  his  solitary  rambles,  sometimes  extending  his 
walks  to  the  gardens  of  the  "White  Conduit  House,"  so 
famous  among  the  essayists  of  the  last  century.  While  stroll- 
ing one  day  in  these  gardens,  he  met  three  females  of  the 
family  of  a  respectable  tradesman  to  whom  he  was  under 
some  obligation,  With  his  prompt  disposition  to  oblige,  he 
conducted  them  about  the  garden,  treated  them  to  tea,  and 
ran  up  a  bill  in  the  most  open-handed  manner  imaginable ;  it 
was  only  when  he  came  to  pay  that  he  found  himself  in  one  of 
his  old  dilemmas — he  had  not  the  wherewithal  in  his  pocket. 
A  scene  of  perplexity  now  took  place  between  him  and  the 
waiter,  in  the  midst  of  which  came  up  some  of  his  acquaint 
ances,  in  whose  eyes  he  wished  to  stand  particularly  well. 
This  completed  his  mortification.  There  was  no  concealing 
the  awkwardness  of  his  position.  The  sneers  of  the  waiter 
revealed  it.  His  acquaintances  amused  themselves  for  some 
time  at  his  expense,  professing  their  inability  to  relieve  him. 
When,  however,  they  had  enjoyed  their  banter,  the  waiter 
was  paid,  and  poor  Goldsmith  enabled  to  convoy  off  the  ladies 
with  flying  colors. 

Among  the  various  productions  thrown  off  by  him  for  the 
booksellers  during  this  growing  period  of  his  reputation,  was  a 


96  OLIVER  OOLDSMITM 

11  work  in  two  volumes,  entitled  "The  H*  I  England, 

sries  of  Letters  from  a  Nobleman  to  his  Son."  It  was 
digested  from  Hume.  Rapin,  Carte,  and  Kennet.  These 
authors  he  would  read  in  the  morning;  make  a  few  notes; 
ramble  with  a  friend  into  the  country  about  the  skirts  of 
"merry  Islington;"  return  to  a  temperate  dinner  and  cheerful 
evening:  and,  before  going  to  bed.  write  off  what  had  arranged 
itself  in  his  head  from  the  studies  of  the  morning.  In  this 
way  he  took  a  more  general  vie  v.-  of  the  subject,  and  wrote  in 
amwe  free  and  fluent  style  than  if  he  had  be*  tg  all 

the  time  among  authorities.  The  work,  like  many  others 
written  by  him  in  the  earner  part  of  his  literary  career,  was 
anonymous.  Some  attributed  it  to  Lord  Chesterfield,  otl 
to  Lord  Orrery,  and  others  to  Lord  Lyttleton.  The  Inter 
seemed  pleased  to  be  the  putative  father,  and  never  disowned 
the  bantling  thus  laid  at  his  door:  and  well  might  he  have 
a  proud  to  be  co  1  capable  of  producing  what  has 

been  well  pronounced  ' '  th  finished  and  elegant  sum- 

mary of  Engl  in  the  same  i  that  has  been  or 

is  likely  to  be 

The  reputation  .nth.    it  will  be  perceived,   g,  • 

slowly:   he  known  and  estimated  by  a  few;  but  he  had 

not  those  brilliant  though  fallacious  qualities  which  flash  upon 
the  public,  and  excite  loud  but  transient  applause.  His  works 
were  more  read  than  cited ;  and  the  charm  of  style,  for  which 
he  was  especially  noted,  was  more  apt  to  It  than  talkel 

about.  He  used  often  to  repine,  in  a  half-humorous,  halt- 
querulous  manner,  at  his  tardiness  in  gaining  the  laurels 
which  he  felt  to  be  his  due.  •"The  public,"  he  woidd  exclaim, 
ill  never  do  me  justice:  whenever  I  write  anything,  they 
make  a  point  to  know  nothing  about  i 

About  th  iiainted  with  Bos- 

well.  wl  ings  were  d<  I  to  have  a  del 

riou  his  reputation.     Bos  well  was  at  that  time  a 

young  man.  li  loyant,  pushing,  and  presumptuous.     lb 

had  a  mor"  •  mingling  in  the  society  of  men  noted 

for  wit  and  le  and  had  just  arrived  from  Scotland.  l»ent 

upon  making  his  way  into  the  literary  circles  of  the  metrop  - 
lis.     An  intimacy  with  Dr.  Johnson,  the  gri  ry  lumi- 

nary of  the  day,  was  the  crowning-object  of  his  aspiring  and 
hat  lud  '     n.     He  expected  to  meet  him  at  a 

dinner  to  which  h  nvited  at  Davies  the  b<.  but 

was  present,  but  he  was  not  as 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  97 

yet  sufficiently  renowned  to  excite  the  reverence  of  Boswell. 
"  At  this  time,"  says  he  in  his  notes,  "  I  think  he  had  published 
nothing  with  his  name,  though  it  was  pretty  generally  under- 
stood that  one  Dr.  Goldsmith  was  the  author  of  '  An  Inquiry 
into  the  Present  State  of  Polite  Learning  in  Europe,'  and  of 
'  The  Citizen  of  the  World,'  a  series  of  letters  supposed  to  be 
written  from  London  by  a  Chinese." 

A  conversation  took  place  at  table  between  Goldsmith  and 
Mr.  Robert  Dodsley,  compiler  of  the  well-known  collection  of 
modern  poetry,  as  to  the  merits  of  the  current  poetry  of  the 
day.  Goldsmith  declared  there  was  none  of  superior  merit. 
Dodsley  cited  his  own  collection  in  proof  of  the  contrary.  "It 
is  true,"  said  he,  "we  can  boast  of  no  palaces  nowadays,  like 
Dry  den's  Ode  to  St.  Cecilia's  Day,  but  we  have  villages  com- 
posed of  very  pretty  houses. "  Goldsmith,  however,  maintained 
that  there  was  nothing  above  mediocrity,  an  opinion  in  which 
Johnson,  to  whom  it  was  repeated,  concurred,  and  with  reason, 
for  the  era  was  one  of  the  dead  levels  of  British  poetry. 

Boswell  has  made  no  note  of  this  conversation ;  he  was  a 
unitarian  in  his  literary  devotion,  and  disposed  to  worship  none 
but  Johnson.  Little  Davies  endeavored  to  console  him  for  his 
disappointment,  and  to  stay  the  stomach  of  his  curiosity,  by 
giving  him  imitations  of  the  great  lexicographer ;  mouthing  his 
Avords,  rolling  his  head,  and  assuming  as  ponderous  a  maimer 
as  his  petty  person  would  permit.  Boswell  was  shortly  after- 
ward made  happy  by  an  introduction  to  Johnson,  of  whom  he 
became  the  obsequious  satellite.  From  him  he  likewise  im- 
bibed a  more  favorable  opinion  of  Goldsmith's  merits,  though 
he  was  fain  to  consider  them  derived  in  a  great  measure  from 
his  Magnus  Apollo.  "He  had  sagacity  enough,"  says  he,  "to 
cultivate  assiduously  the  acquaintance  of  Johnson,  and  his 
facilities  were  gradually  enlarged  by  the  contemplation  of  such 
a  model.  To  me  and  many  others  it  appeared  that  he  studi- 
ously copied  the  manner. of  Johnson,  though,  indeed,  upon  a 
smaller  scale."  So  on  another  occasion  he  calls  him  "  one  01 
the  brightest  ornaments  of  the  Johnsonian  school."  "His  re- 
spectful attachment  to  Johnson,"  adds  he,  "was  then  at  its 
height;  for  his  own  literary  reputation  had  not  yet  distin- 
guished him  so  much  as  to  excite  a  vain  desire  Oj:  competition 
with  his  great  master." 

What  beautiful  instances  does  the  garrulous  Boswell  give  of 
the  goodness  of  heart  of  Johnson,  and  the  passing  homage  to  it 
by  G-oldsmith.     They  were  speaking  of  a  Mr.  Levett,  long  an 


OS  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

inmate  oi  Johnson's  house  and  a  dependent  on  his  bounty ;  hut 
who,  Boswell  thought,  must  bo  an  irksome  charge  upon  him. 
"He  is  poor  and  honest,"  said  Goldsmith,  "which  is  recom 
mendation  enough  to  Johnson." 

Boswell  mentioned  another  person  of  a  very  bad  character, 
and  wondered  at  Johnson's  kindness  to  him.  ' '  He  is  now  be- 
come miserable,"  said  Goldsmith,  "and  that  insures  the  protec- 
tion of  Johnson."  Encomiums  like  these  speak  almost  as  mucb 
for  the  heart  of  him  who  praises  as  of  him  who  is  praised. 

Subsequently,  when  Boswell  had  become  more  intense  in  his 
literary  idolatry,  he  affected  to  undervalue  Goldsmith,  and  a 
lurking  hostility  to  him  is  discernible  throughout  his  writings, 
which  some  have  attributed  to  a  silly  spirit  of  jealousy  of  the 
superior  esteem  evinced  for  the  poet  by  Dr.  Johnson.  We 
have  a  gleam  of  this  in  his  account  of  the  first  evening  he  spent 
in  company  with  those  two  eminent  authors  at  their  famous 
resort,  the  Mitre  Tavern,  in  Fleet  Street.  This  took  place  on 
the  1st  of  July,  1763.  The  trio  supped  together,  and  passed 
some  time  in  literary  conversation.  On  quitting  the  tavern, 
Johnson,  who  had  now  been  sociably  acquainted  with  Gold- 
smith for  two  years,  and  knew  his  merits,  took  him  with  him 
to  drink  tea  with  his  blind  pensioner,  Miss  Williams,  a  high 
privilege  among  his  intimates  and  admirers.  To  Boswell,  a  re- 
cent acquaintance  whose  intrusive  sycophancy  had  not  yet 
made  its  way  into  his  confidential  intimacy,  he  gave  no  invita- 
tion. Boswell  felt  it  with  all  the  jealousy  of  a  little  mind. 
"  Dr.  Goldsmith,"  says  he,  in  his  memoirs,  "  being  a  privileged 
man,  went  with  him,  strutting  away,  and  calling  to  me  with 
an  air  of  superiority,  like  that  of  an  esoteric  over  an  exoteric 
disciple  of  a  sage  of  antiquity,  '  I  go  to  Miss  Williams. '  I  con- 
fess I  then  envied  him  this  mighty  privilege,  of  which  he 
seemed  to  be  so  proud ;  but  it  was  not  long  before  I  obtained 
the  same  mark  of  distinction." 

Obtained !  but  how  ?  not  like  Goldsmith,  by  the  force  of  un- 
pretending but  congenial  merit,  but  "by  a  course  of  the  most 
pushing,  contriving,  and  spaniel-like  subserviency.  Beally, 
the  ambition  of  the  man  to  illustrate  his  mental  insignificance, 
by  continually  placing  himself  in  juxtaposition  with  the  great 
lexicographer,  has  something  in  it  perfectly  ludicrous.  Never, 
since  the  days  of  Don  Quixote  and  Sancho  Panza,  has  there' 
been  presented  to  the  world  a  niore  whimsically  contrasted 
pair  of  associates  tban  Johnson  and  Boswell. 

"Who  is  this  Scotch  cur  at  Johnson's  heels?"  asked  somo 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  99 

one  when  Boswell  had  worked  his  way  into  incessant  com- 
panionship. "He  is  not  a  cur,"  replied  Goldsmith,  "you  are 
too  severe ;  he  is  only  a  bur.  Tom  Davies  flung  him  at  John- 
son in  sport,  and  he  has  the  faculty  01  sticking." 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

HOGARTH  A  VISITOR  AT  ISLINGTON —HIS  CHARACTER— STREET 
STUDIES— SYMPATHIES  BETWEEN  AUTHORS  AND  PAINTERS — SIR 
JOSHUA  REYNOLDS— HIS  CHARACTER— HIS  DINNERS— THE  LITER- 
ARY CLUB— ITS  MEMBERS— JOHNSON'S  REVELS  WITH  LANKEY 
AND  BEAU — GOLDSMITH  AT  THE  CLUB. 

Among  the  intimates  who  used  to  visit  the  poet  occasionally 
in  his  retreat  at  Islington,  was  Hogarth  the  painter.  Gold- 
smith had  spoken  well  of  him  in  his  essays  in  the  Public 
Ledger,  and  this  formed  the  first  link  ha  their  friendship.  He 
was  at  this  time  upward  of  sixty  years  of  age,  and  is  described 
as  a  stout,  active,  bustling  little  man,  in  a  sky-blue  coat,  satiri- 
cal and  dogmatic,  yet  full  of  real  benevolence  and  the  love  of 
human  nature.  He  was  the  moralist  and  philosopher  of  the 
pencil ;  like  Goldsmith  he  had  sounded  the  depth  of  vice  and 
misery,  without  being  polluted  by  them ;  and  though  his  pic- 
turing^ had  not  the  pervading  amenity  of  those  of  the  essayist, 
and  dwelt  more  on  the  crimes  and  vices  than  the  follies  and 
humors  of  mankind,  yet  they  were  all  calculated,  in  like  man- 
ner, to  fill  the  mind  with  instruction  and  precept,  and  to  make 
the  heart  better. 

Hogarth  does  not  appear  to  have  had  much  of  the  rural  feel- 
ing with  which  Goldsmith  was  so  amply  endowed,  and  may 
not  have  accompanied  him  in  his  strolls  about  hedges  and 
green  lanes ;  but  he  was  a  fit  companion  with  whom  to  ex- 
plore the  mazes  of  London,  in  which  he  was  continually  on 
the  look-out  for  character  and  incident.  One  of  Hogarth's 
admirers  speaks  of  having  come  upon  him  in  Castle  Street, 
engaged  in  one  of  his  street  studies,  watching  two  boys  who 
were  quarrelling ;  patting  one  on  the  back  who  flinched,  and 
endeavoring  to  spirit  him  up  to  a  fresh  encounter.  "At  him 
again !    D  —  him,  if  I  would  take  it  of  him !  at  him  again !" 

A  frail  memorial  of  this  intimacy  between  the  painter  and 
the  poet  exists  in  a  portrait  in  oil,  called  ' '  Goldsmith's  Host- 


100  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

ess."  It  is  supposed  to  have  been  painted  by  Hogarth  in  the 
course  of  his  visits  to  Islington,  and  given  by  him  to  the  poet 
as  a  means  of  paying  his  landlady.  There  are  no  friendships 
among  men  of  talents  more  likely  to  be  sincere  than  those  be- 
tween  painters  and  poets.  Possessed  of  the  same  qualities  of 
mind,  governed  by  the  same  principles  of  taste  and  natural 
laws  of  grace  and  beauty,  but  applying  them  to  different  yet 
mutually  illustrative  arts,  they  are  constantly  in  sympathy  and 
never  in  collision  with  each  other. 

A  still  more  congenial  intimacy  of  the  kind  was  that  con- 
tracted by  Goldsmith  with  Mr.  afterward  Sir  Joshua  Rey- 
nolds. The  latter  was  now  about  forty  years  of  age,  a  few 
years  older  than  the  poet,  whom  he  charmed  by  the  blandness 
and  benignity  of  his  manners,  and  the  nobleness  and  generos- 
ity of  his  disposition,  as  much  as  he  did  by  the  graces  of  his 
pencil  and  the  magic  of  his  coloring.  They  were  men  of  kin- 
dred genius,  excelling  in  corresponding  qualities  of  their  sev- 
eral arts,  for  style  in  writing  is  what  color  is  in  painting ;  both 
are  innate  endowments,  and  equally  magical  in  their  effects. 
Certain  graces  and  harmonies  of  both  may  be  acquired  by  dili- 
gent study  and  imitation,  but  only  in  a  limited  degree ;  where- 
as by  their  natural  possessors  they  are  exercised  spontaneous- 
ly, almost  unconsciously,  and  with  ever-varying  fascination. 
Reynolds  soon  understood  and  appreciated  the  merits  of  Gold- 
smith, and  a  sincere  and  lasting  friendship  ensued  between 
them. 

At  Reynolds's  house  Goldsmith  mingled  in  a  higher  range  of 
company  than  he  had  been  accustomed  to.  The  fame  of  this 
celebrated  artist,  and  his  amenity  of  manners,  were  gathering 
round  him  men  of  talents  of  all  kinds,  and  the  increasing  afflu- 
ence of  his  circumstances  enabled  him  to  give  full  indulgence 
to  his  hospitable  disposition.  Poor  Goldsmith  had  not  yet, 
like  Dr.  Johnson,  acquired  reputation  enough  to  atone  for  his 
external  defects  and  his  want  of  the  air  of  good  society.  Miss 
Reynolds  used  to  inveigh  against  his  personal  appearance, 
which  gave  her  the  idea,  she  said,  of  a  low  mechanic,  a  jour- 
neyman tailor.  One  evening  at  a  large  supper  party,  being 
called  upon  to  give  as  a  toast,  the  ugliest  man  she  knew,  she 
gave  Dr.  Goldsmith,  upon  which  a  lady  who  sat  opposite,  and 
whom  she  had  never  met  before,  shook  hands  with  her  across 
the  table,  and  "hoped  to  becomeTbetter  acquainted." 

We  have  a  graphic  and  amusing  picture  of  Reynolds's  hos- 
pitable but  motley  establishment,  in  an  account  given  by  a 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  101 

Mr.  Courtenay  to  Sir  James  Mackintosh;  though  it  speaks  of  a 
time  after  Reynolds  had  received  the  honor  of  knighthood. 
"There  was  something  singular,"  said  he,  "in  the  style  and 
economy  of  Sir  Joshua's  table  that  contributed  to  pleasantry 
and  good-humor,  a  coarse,  inelegant  plenty,  without  any  re- 
gard to  order  and  arrangement.  At  five  o'clock  precisely, 
dinner  was  served,  whether  all  the  invited  guests  were  arrived 
or  not.  Sir  Joshua  was  never  so  fashionably  ill-bred  as  to 
wait  an  hour  perhaps  for  two  or  three  persons  of  rank  or  title, 
and  put  the  rest  of  the  company  out  of  humor  by  this  invidi- 
ous distinction.  His  invitations,  however,  did  not  regulate 
the  number  of  his  guests.  Many  dropped  in  uninvited.  A 
table  prepared  for  seven  or  eight  was  often  compelled  to  con- 
tain fifteen  or  sixteen.  There  was  a  consequent  deficiency 
of  knives,  forks,  plates,  and  glasses.  The  attendance  was 
in  the  same  style,  and  those  who  were  knowing  in  the  ways 
of  the  house  took  care  on  sitting  down  to  call  instantly  for 
beer,  bread,  or  wine,  that  they  might  secure  a  supply  before 
the  first  course  was  over.  He  was  once  prevailed  on  to  fur- 
nish the  table  with  decanters  and  glasses  at  dinner,  to  save 
time  and  prevent  confusion.  These  gradually  were  demolished 
in  the  course  of  service,  and  were  never  replaced.  These  tri- 
fling embarrassments,  however,  only  served  to  enhance  the  hi- 
larity and  singular  pleasure  of  the  entertainment.  The  wine, 
cookery  and  dishes  were  but  little  attended  to ;  nor  was  the 
fish  or  venison  .ever  talked  of  or  recommended.  Amid  this 
convivial  animated  bustle  among  his  guests,  our  host  sat  per- 
fectly composed;  always  attentive  to  what  was  said,  never 
minding  what  was  ate  or  drank,  but  left  every  one  at  perfect 
liberty  to  scramble  for  himself. 

Out  of  this  casual  but  frequent  meeting  of  men  of  talent  at 
this  hospitable  board  rose  that  association  of  wits,  authors, 
scholars,  and  statesmen,  renowned  as  the  Literary  Club.  Rey- 
nolds was  the  first  to  propose  a  regular  association  of  the  kind, 
and  was  eagerly  seconded  by  Johnson,  who  proposed  as  a 
model  a  club  which  he  had  formed  many  years  previously  in 
Ivy  Lane,  but  which  was  now  extinct.  Like  that  club  the 
number  of  members  was  limited  to  nine.  They  were  to  meet 
and  sup  together  once  a  week,  on  Monday  night,  at  the  Turk's 
Head  on  Gerard  Street,  Soho,  and  two  members  were  to  con- 
stitute a  meeting.  It  took  a  regular  form  in  the  year  1704,  but 
did  not  receive  its  literary  appellation  until  several  years  after- 
ward. 


1 02  OLIVER   0  OLD  SMITH. 

The  original  members  were  Eeynolds,  Johnson,  Burke,  Dr. 
Nugent,  Bennet  Langton,  Topham  Beauclerc,  Chamier,  Haw- 
kins, and  Goldsmith ;  and  here  a  few  words  concerning  some 
of  the  members  may  be  acceptable.  Burke  was  at  that  time 
about  thirty-three  years  of  age;  he  had  mingled  a  little  in 
— r  politics,  and  been  Under  Secretary  to  Hamilton  at  Dublin,  but 
was  again  a  writer  for  the  booksellers,  and  as  yet  but  in  the 
dawning  of  his  fame.  Dr.  Nugent  was  his  father-in-law,  a 
Roman  Catholic,  and  a  physician  of  talent  and  instruction. 
Mr.  afterward  Sir  John  Hawkins  was  admitted  into  this  asso- 
ciation from  having  been  a  member  of  Johnson's  Ivy  Lane 
club.  Originally  an  attorney,  he  had  retired  from  the  prac- 
0  tice  of  the  law,  in  consequence  of  a  large  fortune  which  fell 
to  him  in  right  of  his  wife,  and  was  now  a  Middlesex  magis- 
trate. He  was,  moreover,  a  dabbler  in  literature  and  music, 
and  was  actually  engaged  on  a  history  of  music,  which  he 
subseuqently  published  in  five  ponderous  volumes.  To  him 
we  are  also  indebted  for  a  biography  of  Johnson,  which  ap- 
peared after  the  death  of  that  eminent  man.  Hawkins  was 
as  mean  and  parsimonious  as  he  was  pompous  and  conceited. 
He  forbore  to  partake  of  the  suppers  at  the  club,  and  begged 
therefore  to  be  excused  from  paying  his  share  of  the  reckon- 
ing. "  And  was  he  excused?''  asked  Dr.  Burney  of  Johnson. 
' '  Oh  yes,  for  no  man  is  angry  at  another  for  being  inferior  to 
himself.  We  all  scorned  him  and  admitted  his.  plea,  Yet  I 
really  believe  him  to  be  an  honest  man  at  bottom,  though  to 
be  sure  he  is  penurious,  and  he  is  mean,  and  it  must  be  owned 
he  has  a  tendency  to  savageness."  He  did  not  remain  above 
two  or  three  years  in  the  club ;  being  in  a  manner  elbowed  out 
in  consequence  of  his  rudeness  to  Burke. 

Mr.  Anthony  Chamier  was  secretary  in  the  War  Office,  and 
a  friend  of  Beauclerc,  by  whom  he  was  proposed.  We 
have  left  our  mention  of  Bennet  Langton  and  Topham  Beau- 
clerc until  the  last,  because  we  have  most  to  say  about  them. 
They  were  doubtless  induced  to  join  the  club  through  their 
devotion  to  Johnson,  and  the  intimacy  of  these  two  very 
young  and  aristocratic  young  men  with  the  stern  and  some- 
what melancholy  moralist  is  among  the  curiosities  of  literature. 

Bennet  Langton  was  of  an  ancient  family,  who  held  their 
ancestral  estate  of  Langton  in"~Lincolnshire,  a  great  title  to 
respect  with  Johnson.  "  Langton,  sir,"  he  would  say,  "has  a 
grant  of  free  warren  from  Henry  the  Second;  and  Cardinal 
Stephen  Langton,  in  King  John's  reign,  was  of  this  family." 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  103 

Langton  was  of  a  mild,  contemplative,  enthusiastic  nature. 
When  but  eighteen  years  of  age  he  was  so  delighted  with 
reading  Johnson's  "Rambler,"  that  he  came  to  London  chiefly 
with  a  view  to  obtain  an  introduction  to  the  author.  Bos- 
well  gives  us  an  account  of  his  first  interview,  which  took 
place  in  the  morning.  It  is  not  often  that  the  personal  ap- 
pearance of  an  author  agrees  with  the  preconceived  ideas  of 
bis  admirer.  Langton,  from  perusing  the  writings  of  John- 
son, expected  to  find  him  a  decent,  well-dressed,  in  short  a 
remarkably  decorous  philosopher.  Instead  of  which,  down 
from  his  bedchamber  about  noon,  came,  as  newly  risen,  a 
large  uncouth  figure,  with  a  little  dark  wig  which  scarcely 
covered  his  head,  and  his  clothes  hanging  loose  about  him. 
But  his  conversation  was  so  rich,  so  animated,  and  so  forci- 
ble, and  his  religious  and  political  notions  so  congenial  with 
those  in  which  Langton  had  been  educated,  that  he  conceived 
for  him  that  veneration  and  attachment  which  he  ever  pre- 
served. 

Langton  went  to  pursue  his  studies  at  Trinity  College,  Ox* 
ford,  where  Johnson  saw  much  of  him  during  a  visit  which 
he  paid  to  the  university.  He  found  him  in  close  intimacy 
with  Topbam  Beauclerc,  a  youth  two  years  older  than  him- 
self, very  gay  and  dissipated,  and  wondered  what  sympathies 
could  draw  two  young  men  together  of  such  opposite  char- 
acters. On  becoming  acquainted  with  Beauclerc  he  found 
that,  rake  though  he  was,  he  possessed  an  ardent  love  of  lite- 
rature, an  acute  understanding,  polished  wit,  innate  gentility 
and  high  aristocratic  breeding.  He  was,  morever,  the  only 
son  of  Lord  Sidney  Beauclerc  and  grandson  of  the  Duke  of 
St.  Albans,  and  was  thought  in  some  particulars  to  have  a 
resemblance  to  Charles  the  Second.  These  were  high  recom- 
mendations with  Johnson,  and  when  the  youth  testified  a 
profound  respect  for  him  and  an  ardent  admiration  of  his 
talents  the  conquest  was  complete,  so  that  in  a  "  short  time, " 
says  Boswell,  "the  moral  pious  Johnson  and  the  gay  dissi- 
pated Beauclerc  were  companions." 

The  intimacy  begun  in  college  chambers  was  continued 
when  the  youths  came  to  town  during  the  vacations.  The  un- 
couth, unwieldy  moralist  was  flattered  at  finding  himself  an 
object  of  idolatry  to  two  high-born,  high-bred,  aristocratic 
young  men,  and  throwing  gravity  aside,  was  ready  to  join  m 
their  vagaries  and  play  the  part  of  a  "young  man  upon 
town.''    Such  at  least  is  the  picture  given  of  him  by  Boswell 


J04  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

on  one  occasion  when  Beauclerc  and  Langton  having  supped 
together  at  a  tavern  determined  to  give  Johnson  a  rouse  at 
three  o'clock  in  the  morning.  They  accordingly  rapped  vio- 
lently at  the  door  of  his  chambers  in  the  Temple.  The  in- 
dignant sage  sallied  forth  in  his  shirt,  poker  in  hand,  and  a 
little  black  wig  on  the  top  of  his  head,  instead  of  helmet; 
prepared  to  wreak  vengeance  on  the  assailants  of  his  castle ; 
but  when  his  two  young  friends,  Lankey  and  Beau,  as  he 
used  to  call  them,  presented  themselves,  summoning  him  forth 
to  a  morning  ramble,  his  whole  manner  changed.  "What, 
is  it  you,  ye  dogs?"  cried  he.  "Faith,  I'll  have  a  frisk  with 
you !" 

So  said  so  done.  They  sallied  forth  together  into  Covent 
Garden;  figured  among  the  green  grocers  and  fruit  women, 
just  come  in  from  the  country  with  their  hampers;  repaired 
to  a  neighboring  tavern,  where  Johnson  brewed  a  bowl  of 
bishop,  a  favorito  beverage  with  him,  grew  merry  over  his 
cups,  and  anathematized  sleep  in  two  lines  from  Lord  Lans- 
downe's  drinking  song : 

"  Short,  very  short,  be  then  thy  reign, 
For  I'm  in  haste  to  laugh  and  drink  again." 

They  then  took  boat  again,  rowed  to  Billingsgate,  and  John- 
son and  Beauclerc  determined,  like  "mad  wags,"  to  "keep 
it  up"  for  the  rest  of  the  day.  Langton,  however,  the  most 
sober-minded  of  the  three,  pleaded  an  engagement  to  break- 
fast with  some  young  ladies;  whereupon  the  great  moralist 
reproached  him  with  ' '  leaving  his  social  friends  to  go  and 
sit  with  a  set  of  wretched  uniclea'd  girls." 

This  madcap  freak  of  the  great  lexicographer  made  a  sensa- 
tion, as  may  well  be  supposed,  among  his  intimates.  "  I  heard 
of  your  frolic  t'other  night,"  said  Garrick  to  him;  "you'll  be 
in  the  Chronicle.''''  He  uttered  worse  forebodings  to  others. 
"I  shall  have  my  old  friend  to  bail  out  of  the  round-house," 
said  he.  Johnson,  however,  valued  himself  upon  having  thus 
enacted  a  chapter  in  the  "Rake's  Progress,"  and  crowed  over 
Garrick  on  the  occasion.  " He  durst  not  do  such  a  thing!" 
chuckled  he.  "his  wife  would  not  let  him !" 

When  these  two  young  men  entered  the  club,  Langton  was 
about  twenty-two,  and  Beauclerc  about  twenty-f our  years  of 
age,  and  both  were  launched  on  London  life.  Langton,  how- 
ever, was  still  the  mild,  enthusiastic  scholar,  steeped  to  the 
lips  with  fine  conversational  powers,  and  an  invaluable  talent 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  10a 

for  listening.  He  was  upward  of  six  feet  high,  and  very  spare. 
"Oh!  that  we  could  sketch  him,"  exclaims  Miss  Hawkins,  in 
her  Memoirs,  ' '  with  his  mild  countenance,  his  elegant  features, 
and  his  sweet  smile,  sitting  with  one  leg  twisted  round  the 
other,  as  if  fearing  to  occupy  more  space  than  was  equitable ; 
his  person  inclining  forward,  as  il  wanting  strength  to  support 
his  weight,  and  his  arms  crossed  over  his  bosom,  or  his  hands 
locked  together  on  his  knee."  Beauclerc,  on  such  occasions, 
sportively  compared  him  to  a  stork  in  Raphael's  Cartoons, 
standing  on  one  leg.  Beauclerc  was  more  ' '  a  man  upon  town, " 
a  lounger  in  St.  James's  Street,  an  associate  with  George  Selwyn, 
with  Walpole,  and  other  aristocratic  wits ;  a  man  of  fashion  at 
court;  a  casual  frequenter  of  the  gaming-table;  yet  with  all 
this,  he  alternated  in  the  easiest  and  happiest  manner  the 
scholar  and  the  man  of  letters ;  lounged  into  the  club  with  the 
most  perfect  self-possession,  bringing  with  him  the  careless 
grace  and  polished  wit  of  high-bred  society,  but  making  him- 
self cordially  at  home  among  his  learned  fellow-members. 

The  gay  yet  lettered  rake  maintained  his  sway  over  Johnson, 
who  was  fascinated  by  that  air  of  the  world,  that  ineffable 
tone  of  good  society  in  which  he  felt  Mmself  deficient,  espe- 
cially as  the  possessor  of  it  always  paid  homage  to  his  superior 
talent.  "  Beauclerc, "  he  would  say,  using  a  quotation  from 
Pope,  ' '  has  a  love  of  folly,  but  a  scorn  of  fools ;  everything  he 
does  shows  the  one,  and  everything  he  says  the  other."  Beau- 
clerc delighted  in  rallying  the  stern  moralist  of  whom  others 
stood  in  awe,  and  no  one,  according  to  Boswell,  could  take 
equal  liberty  with  him  with  impunity.  Johnson,  it  is  well 
known,  was  often  shabby  and  negligent  in  his  dress,  and  not 
over-cleanly  in  his  person.  On  receiving  a  pension  from  the 
crown,  his  friends  vied  with  each  other  in  respectful  congratu- 
lations. Beauclerc  simply  scanned  his  person  with  a  whim- 
sical glance,  and  hoped  that,  like  Falstaff,  "he'd  in  future 
purge  and  live  cleanly  like  a  gentleman."  Johnson  took  the 
hint  with  unexpected  good  humor,  and  profited  by  it. 

Still  Beauclerc's  satirical  vein,  which  darted  shafts  on  every 
side,  was  not  always  tolerated  by  Johnson.  "  Sir,"  said  he  on 
one  occasion,  "  you  never  open  your  mouth  but  with  intention 
to  give  pain ;  and  you  have  often  given  me  pain,  not  from  the 
power  of  what  you  have  said,  but  from  seeing  your  inten- 
tion." 

When  it  was  first  proposed  to  enroll  Goldsmith  among  the 
members  of  this  association,   there  seems  to  have  been  some 


* 


KjQ  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

demur-,  at  least  so  says  the  pompous  Hawkins.  "As  he  wrote 
for  the  booksellers,  we  of  the  club  looked  on  him  as  a  mere 
literary  drudge,  equal  to  the  task  of  compiling  and  translating, 
but  little  capable  of  original  and  still  less  of  poetical  composi- 
tion." 

wEven  for  some  time  after  his  admission,  he  continued  to  be 
regarded  in  a  dubious  light  by  some  of  the  members.  Johnson 
''and  Reynolds,  of  course,  were  well  aware  of  his  merits,  nor 
was  Burke  a  stranger  to  them ;  but  to  the  others  he  was  as  yet 
a  sealed  book,  and  the  outside  was  not  prepossessing.  His  un- 
gainly person  and  awkward  manners  were  against  him  with 
men  accustomed  to  the  graces  of  society,  and  he  was  not  suffi' 
ciently  at  home  to  give  play  to  his  humor  and  to  that  bonho- 
mie which  won  the  hearts  of  all  who  knew  him.  He  felt 
strange  and  out  of  place  in  this  new  sphere ;  he  felt  at  times 
the  cool  satirical  eye  of  the  courtly  Beauclerc  scanning  him, 
and  the  more  he  attempted  to  appear  at  his  ease,  the  more 
awkward  he  became. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

JOHNSON  A  MONITOR  TO  GOLDSMITH — FINDS  HIM  IN  DISTRESS 
WITH  HIS  LANDLADY — RELIEVED  BY  THE  VICAR  OF  WAKEFIELD 
— THE  ORATORIO — POEM  OF  THE  TRAVELLER — THE  POET  AND 
HIS  DOG — SUCCESS  OF  THE  POEM — ASTONISHMENT  OF  THE 
CLUB — OBSERVATIONS  ON  THE   POEM. 

Johnson  had  now  become  one  of  Goldsmith's  best  friends 
and  advisers.  He  knew  all  the  weak  points  of  his  character, 
but  he  knew  also  his  merits ;  and  while  he  would  rebuke  him 
like  a  child,  and  rail  at  his  errors  and  follies,  he  would  suffer 
no  one  else  to  undervalue  him.  Goldsmith  knew  the  sound- 
vness  of  his  judgment  and  his  practical  benevolence,  and  often 
sought  his  counsel  and  aid  amid  the  difficulties  into  which  his 
heedlessness  was  continually  plunging  him. 

"I  received  one  morning,"  says  Johnson,  "a  message  from 

poor  Goldsmith  that  he  was  in  great  distress,  and,  as  it  was 

not  in  his  power  to  come  to  me,  begging  that  I  would  come  to 

v  V'       him  as  soon  as  possible.     I  sent  him  a  guinea,  and  promised  to 

come  to  him  directly.     I  accordingly  went  as  soon  as  I  was 


X  * 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  107 

dressed,  and  found  that  his  landlady  had  arrested  him  for  his 
rent,  at  which  he  was  in  a  violent  passion;  I  perceived  that 
he  had  already  changed  my  guinea,  and  had  a  bottle  of 
Madeira  and  a  glass  before  him.  I  put  the  cork  into  the 
bottle,  desired  he  would  be  calm,  and  began  to  talk  to  him  of 
the  means  by  which  he  might  be  extricated.  He  then  told  me 
he  had  a  novel  ready  for  the  press,  which  he  produced  to  me. 
I  looked  into  it  and  saw  its  merit ;  told  the  landlady  I  should 
soon  return ;  and,  having  gone  to  a  bookseller,  sold  it  for  sixty 
pounds.  I  brought  Goldsmith  the  money,  and  he  discharged 
his  rent,  not  without  rating  his  landlady  in  a  high  tone  for 
having  used  him  so  ill. " 

The  novel  in  question  was  the  "Vicar  of  Wakefield;"  the 
bookseller  to  whom  Johnson  sold  it  was  Francis  Newbery, 
nephew  to  John.  Strange  as  it  may  seem,  this  captivating 
work,  which  has  obtained  and  preserved  an  almost  unrivalled 
popularity  in  various  languages,  was  so  little  appreciated  by 
ohe  bookseller,  that  he  kept  it  by  him  for  nearly  two  years  un- 
published! 

Goldsmith  had,  as  yet,  produced  nothing  of  moment  in 
poetry.  Among  his  literary  jobs,  it  is  true,  was  an  oratorio 
entitled  "  The  Captivity, "  founded  on  the  bondage  of  the  Israel- 
ites in  Babylon.  It  was  one  of  those  unhappy  offsprings  of 
the  muse  ushered  into  existence  amid  the  distortions  of  music. 
Most  of  the  oratorio  has  passed  into  oblivion;  but  the  follow- 
ing song  from  it  will  never  die : 

"  The  wretch  condemned  from  life  to  part, 
Still,  still  on  hope  relies, 
And  every  pang  that  rends  the  heart 
Bids  expectation  rise. 

"  Hope,  like  the  glimmering  taper's  light, 
Illumes  and  cheers  our  way; 
And  still,  as  darker  grows  the  night, 
Emits  a  brighter  ray." 

Goldsmith  distrusted  his  qualifications  to  succeed  in  poetry, 
and  doubted  the  disposition  of  the  public  mind  in  regard  to  it. 
"  I  fear,"  said  he,  "  I  have  come  too  late  into  the  world;  Pope 
and  other  poets  have  taken  up  the  places  in  the  temple  of 
Fame ;  and  as  few  at  any  period  can  possess  poetical  reputa- 
tion, a  man  of  genius  can  now  hardly  acquire  it."  Again,  on 
another  occasion,  he  observes:  "Of  all  kinds  of  ambition,  as 
things  are  now  circumstanced,  perhaps  that  which  pursues 
poetical  fame  is  the  wildest.     What  from  the  increased  refine- 


LOS  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

ment  of  the  times,  from  the  diversity  of  judgment  produced 
by  opposing  systems  of  criticism,  and  from  the  more  prevalent 
divisions  of  opinion  influenced  by  party,  the  strongest  and  hap- 
piest efforts  can  expect  to  please  but  in  a  very  narrow  circle." 

At  this  very  time  he  had  by  him  his  poem  of  "The  Travel- 
ler. "  The  plan  of  it,  as  has  already  been  observed,  was  con 
ceived  many  years  before,  during  his  travels  in  Switzerland, 
and  a  sketch  of  it  sent  from  that  country  to  his  brother  Henry 
in  Ireland.  The  original  outline  is  said  to  have  embraced  a 
wider  scope ;  but  it  was  probably  contracted  through  diffidence, 
in  the  process  of  finishing  the  parts.  It  had  lain  by  him  for 
several  years  in  a  crude  state,  and  it  was  with  extreme  hesita- 
tion and  after  much  revision  that  he  at  length  submitted  it  to 
Dr.  Johnson.  The  frank  and  warm  approbation  of  the  latter 
encouraged  him  to  finish  it  for  the  press;  and  Dr.  Johnson 
himself  contributed  a  fewlines  toward  the  conclusion. 

We  hear  much  about  "poetic  inspiration, " and  "the  poet's 
eye  in  a  fine  frenzy  rolling;"  but  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  gives  an 
anecdote  of  Goldsmith  while  engaged  upon  his  poem,  calculated 
to  cure  our  notions  about  the  ardor  of  composition.  Calling 
upon  the  poet  one  day,  he  opened  the  door  without  ceremony, 
and  found  him  in  the  double  occupation  of  turning  a  couplet 
and  teaching  a  pet  dog  to  sit  upon  his  haunches.  At  one  time 
he  would  glance  his  eye  at  his  desk,  and  at  another  shake  his 
finger  at  the  dog  to  make  him  retain  his  position.  The  last 
lines  on  the  page  were  still  wet ;  they  form  a  part  of  the  descrip 
tion  of  Italy : 

"  By  sports  like  these  are  all  their  cares  beguiled, 
The  sports  of  children  satisfy  the  child." 

Goldsmith,  with  his  usual  good-humor,  joined  in  the  laugh 
caused  by  his  whimsical  employment,  and  acknowledged  tnat 
his  boyish  sport  with  the  dog  suggested  the  stanza. 

The  poem  was  published  on  the  19th  of  December.  17G4.  ir.  a 
quarto  form,  by  Newbery.  and  was  the  first  of  his  works  to 
which  Goldsmith  prefixed  his  name.  As  a  testimony  of  cher- 
ished and  well-merited  affection,  he  dedicated  it  to  his  brother 
rlenry.  There  is  an  amusing  affectation  of  indifference  as  to  its 
i'ate  expressed  in  the  dedication.  "What  reception  a  poem 
may  find,  "says  he,  "which  has  neither  abuse,  party,  nor  blank 
verse  to  support  it,  I  cannot  tell,  nor  am  I  solicitous  to  know." 
The  truth  is,  no  one  was  more  emulous  and  anxious  for  poetic 
fame;   and  never  was  he  more  anxious  than  in  the  present 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  ]  09 

instance,  for  it  was  his  grand  stake.  Dr.  Johnson  aided  the 
launching  of  the  poem  by  a  favorable  notice  in  the  Critical 
Review ;  other  periodical  works  came  out  in  its  favor.  Some 
of  the  author's  friends  complained  that  it  did  not  command  in- 
stant  and  wide  popularity ;  that  it  was  a  poem  to  win,  not  to 
strike ;  it  went  on  rapidly  increasing  in  favor ;  in  three  months 
a  second  edition  was  issued ;  shortly  afterward  a  third ;  then  a 
fourth;  and,  before  the  year  was  out,  the  author  was  pro- 
nounced the  best  poet  of  his  time. 

The  appearance  of  "The  Traveller"  at  once  altered  Gold- 
smiths intellectual  standing  in  the  estimation  of  society ;  but 
its  effect  upon  the  club,  if  we  may  judge  from  the  account 
given  by  Hawkins,  was  most  ludicrous.  They  were  lost  in  as- 
tonishment that  a  "newspaper  essayist"  and  '"bookseller's 
drudge"  should  have  written  such  a  poem.  On  the  evening  of 
its  announcement  to  them  Goldsmith  had  gone  away  early, 
after  "rattling  away  as  usual,"  and  they  knew  not  how  to 
reconcile  his  heedless  garrulity  with  the  serene  beauty,  the 
easy  grace,  the  sound  good  sense,  and  the  occasional  elevation 
of  his  poetry.  They  could  scarcely  behove  that  such  magic 
numbers  had  flowed  from  a  man  to  whom  in  general,  say? 
Johnson,  "it  was  with  difficulty  they  could  give  a  hearing.1 
"  Well,"  exclaimed  Chamfer,  "  I  do  believe  he  wrote  this  poem 
himself,  and  let  me  tell  you,  that  is  believing  a  great  deal." 

At  the  next  meeting  of  the  club 'Chamfer  sounded  the  author 
a  little  about  his  poem.  "Mr.  Goldsmith,"  said  he,  "what  do 
you  mean  by  the  last  word  in  the  first  line  of  your  '  Traveller, 
'remote,  unfriended,  melancholy,  slow"$  do  you  mean  tardinesss 
of  locomotion?"  "Yes,"  replied  Goldsmith  inconsiderately, 
being  probably  flurried  at  the  moment.  "  No,  sir,"  interposed 
his  protecting  friend  Johnson,  "you  did  not  mean  tardiness  of 
locomotion ;  you  meant  that  sluggishness  of  mind  which  comes 
upon  a  man  in  solitude."  "  Ah,"  exclaimed  Goldsmith,  "  that 
was  what  I  meant."  Chamfer  immediately  believed  that  John- 
son himself  had  written  the  line,  and  a  rumor  became  pre- 
valent that  he  was  the  author  of  many  of  the  finest  passages. 
This  was  ultimately  set  at  rest  by  Johnson  himself,  who  marked 
with  a  pencil  all  the  verses  he  had  contributed,  nine  in  number, 
inserted  toward  the  conclusion,  and  by  no  means  the  best  in 
the  poem.  He  moreover,  with  generous  warmth,  pronounced 
it  the  finest  poem  that  had  appeared  since  the  days  of  Pope. 

But  one  of  the  highest  testimonials  to  the  charm  of  the  poem 
was  given  by  Miss  Reynolds,  who  had  toasted  poor  Goldsmith 


HO  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

as  the  ugliest  man  of  her  acquaintance.  Shortly  after  the  ap- 
pearance of  "The  Traveller,"  Dr.  Johnson  read  it  aloud  from 
beginning  to  end  in  her  presence.  ""Well,"  exclaimed  she, 
when  he  had  finished,  "I  never  more  shall  think  Dr.  Gold- 
smith ugly !" 

On  another  occasion,  "when  the  merits  of  "The  Traveller" 
wto  discussed  at  Reynolds's  board,  Langton  declared  "There 
was  not  a  bad  line  in  the  poem,  not  one  of  Dryden's  careless 
verses."  "I  was  glad,"  observed  Reynolds,  "to  hear  Charles 
Fox  say  it  was  one  of  the  finest  poems  in  the  English  language." 
"  Why  were  you  glad  ?"  rejoined  Langton;  "  you  surely  had  no 
doubt  or  this  before."  "No,"  interposed  Johnson,  decisively; 
' '  the  merit  01  '  The  Traveller'  is  so  well  established  that  Mr. 
Fox's  praise  cannot  augment  it,  nor  his  censure  diminish  it." 

Boswell,  who  was  absent  from  England  at  the  time  of  the 
publication  of  "  The  Traveller,"  was  astonished,  on  his  return, 
to  find  Goldsmith,  whom  he  had  so  much  undervalued,  sud- 
denly elevated  almost  to  u  par  with  his  idoi.  He  accounted  lor 
it  by  concluding  that  much  both  of  the  sentiments  and  expres- 
sion of  the  poem  had  been  derived  from  conversations  with 
Johnson.  "He  imitates  you,  sir,"  said  this  incarnation  of 
toadyism.  "Why,  no,  sir/'  replied  Johnson,  "Jack  Hawks- 
wrorth  is  one  of  my  imitators,  but  not  Goldsmith.  Goldy,  sir, 
has  great  merit."  "But,  sir,  he  is  much  indebted  to  you  for 
his  getting  so  high  in  the  public  estimation. "  "Why,  sir,  he 
has,  perhaps,  got  sooner  to  it  by  his  intimacy  with  me." 

The  poem  went  through  several  editions  in  the  course  of  the 
first  year,  and  received  some  few  additions  and  corrections 
from  the  author's  pen.  It  produced  a  golden  harvest  to  Mr. 
Newbery,  but  all  the  remuneration  on  record,  doled  out  by  his 
niggard  hand  to  the  author,  was  twenty  guineas! 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  \\\ 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

NEW  LODGINGS — JOHNSON'S  COMPLIMENT — A  TITLED  PATRON — THE 
POET  AT  NORTHUMBERLAND  HOUSE — HIS  INDEPENDENCE  OP  THE 
GREAT — THE  COUNTESS  OF  NORTHUMBERLAND  —  EDWIN  AND 
ANGELINA — GOSFORD  AND  LORD  CLARE — PUBLICATION  OF  ES- 
SAYS—  EVILS  OF  A  RISING  REPUTATION  —  HANGERS-ON  —  JOB 
WRITING  —  GOODY  TWO  SHOES — A  MEDICAL  CAMPAIGN  —  MRS. 
SIDEtOTHAM. 

Goldsmith,  now  that  he  was  rising  in  the  world,  and  becom- 
ing a  notoriety,  felt  himself  called  upon  to  improve  Ins  style 
of  living.  He  accordingly  emerged  from  Wine-Office  Court, 
an<!  took  chambers  in  the  Temple.  It  is  true  they  were  but 
of  lumble  pretensions,  situated  on  what  was  then  the  library 
starcase,  and  it  would  appear  that  he  was  a  kind  of  inmate 
witl  Jeffs,  the  butler  of  the  society.  Still  he  was  in  the  Tem- 
ple, that  classic  region  rendered  famous  by  the  Spectator  and 
othe:  essayists,  as  the  abode  of  gay  wits  and  thoughtful  men 
of  letters;  and  which,  with  its  retired  courts  and  embow- 
ered gardens,  in  the  very  heart  of  a  noisy  metropolis,  is, 
to  the  quiet-seeking  student  and  author,  an  oasis  freshening 
with  verdure  in  the  midst  of  a  desert.  Johnson,  who  had  be- 
come a  kind  of  growling  supervisor  of  the  poet's  affairs,  paid 
him  a  visit  soon  after  he  had  installed  himself  in  his  new  quar- 
ters, and  went  prying  about  the  apartment,  in  his  near-sighted 
manner,  examining  everything  minutely.  Goldsmith  was 
fidgeted  by  this  curious  scrutiny,  and  apprehending  a  dispo- 
sition to  find  fault,  exclaimed,  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  had 
money  in  both  pockets,  "  I  shall  soon  be  in  better  chambers 
than  these. "  The  harmless  bravado  drew  a  reply  from  John- 
son, which  touched  the  chord  of  proper  pride.  "Nay,  sir,'' 
said  he,  "never  mind  that.  Nil  te  quaesiveris  extra,"  imply- 
ing that  his  reputation  rendered  him  independent  of  outward 
show.  Happy  would  it  have  been  for  poor  Goldsmith,  could 
he  have  kept  this  consolatory  compliment  perpetually  in  mind, 
and  squared  his  expenses  accordingly. 

Among  the  persons  of  rank  who  were  struck  with  the  merits 
of  "The  Traveller"  was  the  Earl  (afterward  Duke)  of  North- 
umberland.    He  procured  several  other  of  Goldsmith's  writ- 


112  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

ings,  the  perusal  of  which  tended  to  elevate  the  author  in  his 
good  opinion,  and  to  gain  for  him  his  good  will.  The  earl  held 
the  office  of  Lord  Lieutenant  of  Ireland,  and  understanding 
Goldsmith  was  an  Irishman,  was  disposed  to  extend  to  him 
the  patronage  which  his  high  post  afforded.  He  intimated 
the  same  to  his  relative,  Dr.  Percy,  who,  he  found,  was  "fell 
acquainted  with  the  poet,  and  expressed  a  wish  that  the  latter 
should  wait  upon  him.  Here,  then,  was  another  opportunity 
for  Goldsmith  to  better  his  fortune,  had  he  been  knowing  and 
worldly  enough  to  profit  by  it.  Uuluckily  the  path  to  fortune 
lay  through  the  aristocratical  mazes  of  Northumberland  House, 
and  the  poet  blundered  at  the  outset.  The  following  is  die  ac- 
count he  used  to  give  of  his  visit:  "I  dressed  myself  in  the 
best  manner  I  could,  and,  after  studying  some  compliments  I 
thought  necessary  on  such  an  occasion,  proceeded  to  North- 
umberland House,  and  acquainted  the  servants  that  I  had  par- 
ticular business  with  the  duke.  They  showed  me  into  an  ante- 
chamber, where,  after  waiting  some  time,  a  gentleman,  v  in- 
elegantly dressed,  made  his  appearance;  taking  him  for  the 
duke,  I  delivered  all  the  fine  things  I  had  composed  in  oxler 
to  compliment  him  on  the  honor  he  had  done  me;  whei,  to 
my  great  astonishment,  he  told  me  I  had  mistaken  bin  for 
his  master,  who  would  see  me  immediately.  At  that  instant 
the  duke  came  into  the  apartment,  and  I  was  so  confounded 
on  the  occasion,  that  I  wanted  words  barely  sufficient  to  ex- 
press the  sense  I  entertained  of  the  duke's  politeness,  and 
went  away  exceedingly  chagrined  at  the  blunder  I  had  com- 
mitted." 

Sir  John  Hawkins,  in  his  life  of  Dr.  Johnson,  gives  some 
further  particulars  of  this  visit,  of  which  he  was,  in  part,  a 
witness.  "  Having  one  day,"  says  he,  "a  call  to  make  on  the 
late  Duke,  then  Earl,  of  Northumberland,  I  found  Goldsmith 
waiting  for  an  audience  in  an  outer  room ;  I  asked  him  what 
had  brought  him  there;  he  told  me,  an  invitation  from  his 
lordship.  I  made  my  business  as  short  as  I  could,  and,  as  a 
reason,  mentioned  that  Dr.  Goldsmith  was  waiting  without. 
The  earl  asked  me  if  I  was  acquainted  with  him.  I  told  him 
that  I  was,  adding  Avhat  I  thought  most  likely  to  recommend 
him.  I  retired,  and  stayed  in  the  outer  room  to  take  him 
home.  Upon  his  coming  out,  I  asked  him  the  result  of  his  con- 
versation. 'His  lordship,'  said  he^  'told  me  he  had  read  my 
poem,  meaning  "The  Traveller,"  and  was  much  delighted 
with  it;  that  he  was  going  to  be  lord-lieutenant  of  Ireland, 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  113 

and  that  hearing  I  was  a  native  of  that  country,  he  should 
be  glad  to  do  me  any  kindness.'  '  And  what  did  you  answer,' 
said  I,  'to  this  gracious  offer?'  'Why,'  said  he,  'I  could  say 
nothing  hut  that  I  had  a  brother  there,  a  clergyman,  that  stood 
in  need  of  help :  as  for  myself,  I  have  no  great  dependence  on 
the  promises  of  great  men ;  I  look  to  the  booksellers  for  sup- 
port ;  they  are  my  best  friends,  and  I  am  not  inclined  to  for- 
sake them  for  others.'"  "Thus,"  continues  Sir  John,  "did 
this  idiot  in  the  affairs  of  the  world  trifle  with  his  fortunes, 
and  put  back  the  hand  that  was  held  out  to  assist  him." 

"We  cannot  join  with  Sir  John  in  his  worldly  sneer  at  the 
conduct  of  Goldsmith  on  this  occasion.  While  wc  admire  that 
honest  independence  of  spirit  which  prevented  him  from  ask- 
ing favors  for  himself,  we  love  that  warmth  of  affection  which 
instantly  sought  to  advance  the  fortunes  of  a  brother:  but  the 
peculiar  merits  of  Goldsmith  seem  to  have  been  little  under- 
stood by  the  Hawkinses,  the  Boswells,  and  the  other  biogra- 
phers of  the  day. 

After  all,  the  introduction  to  Northumberland  House  did  not 
prove  so  complete  a  failure  as  the  humorous  account  given  by 
Goldsmith,  and  the  cynical  account  given  by  Sir  John  Haw- 
kins, might  lead  one  to  suppose.  Dr.  Percy,  the  heir  male  of 
the  ancient  Percies,  brought  the  poet  into  the  acquaintance  of 
his  kinswoman,  the  countess,  who,  before  her  marriage  with 
the  earl,  was  in  her  own  right  heiress  of  the  House  of  North- 
umberland. "She  was  a  lady,"  says  Boswell,  "not  only  of 
high  dignity  of  spirit,  such  as  became  her  noble  blood,  but  of 
excellent  understanding  and  lively  talents."  Under  her  aus- 
pices a  poem  of  Goldsmith's  had  an  aristocratical  introduction 
to  the  world.  This  was  the  beautiful  ballad  of  the  "  Hermit," 
originally  published  under  the  name  of  "  Edwin  and  Angelina." 
It  was  suggested  by  an  old  English  ballad  beginning  "Gentle 
Herdsman,"  shown  him  by  Dr.  Percy,  who  was  at  that  time 
making  his  famous  collection,  entitled  "Keliques  of  Ancient 
English  Poetry,"  which  he  submitted  to  the  inspection  of 
Goldsmith  prior  to  publication.  A  few  copies  only  of  the 
"  Hermit"  were  printed  at  first,  with  the  following  title-page: 
"Edwin  and  Angelina:  a  Ballad.  By  Mr.  Goldsmith.  Printed 
for  the  Amusement  of  the  Countess  of  Northumberland." 

All  this,  though  it  may  not  have  been  attended  with  any 
immediate  pecuniary  advantage,  contributed  to  give  Gold- 
smith's name  and  poetry  the  high  stamp  of  fashion,  so  potent 
in  England;  the  circle  at  Northumberland  House,  however, 


114  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

was  of  too  stately  and  aristocratical  a  nature  to  be  much  to 
his  taste,  and  we  do  not  find  that  he  became  familiar  in  it. 

He  was  much  more  at  home  at  Gosfield,  the  noble  seat  of  his 
countryman,  Robert  Nugent,  afterward  Baron  Nugent  and 
Viscount  Clare,  who  appreciated  his  merits  even  more  heartily 
than  the  Earl  of  Northumberland,  and  occasionally  made  him 
his  guest  both  in  town  and  country.  Nugent  is  described  as  a 
jovial  voluptuary,  who  left  the  Roman  Catholic  for  the  Pro- 
testant religion,  with  a  view  to  bettering  his  fortunes ;  he  had 
an  Irishman's  inclination  for  rich  widows,  and  an  Irishman's 
luck  with  the  sex ;  having  been  thrice  married  and  gained  a 
fortune  with  each  wife.  He  was  now  nearly  sixty,  with  a  re- 
markably loud  voice,  broad  Irish  brogue,  and  ready,  but  some- 
what coarse  wit.  With  all  his  occasional  coarseness  he  was 
capable  of  high  thought,  and  had  produced  poems  which 
showed  a  truly  poetic  vein.  He  was  long  a  member  of  the 
House  of  Commons,  where  his  ready  wit,  his  fearless  decision, 
and  good-humored  audacity  of  expression,  always  gained  him 
a  hearing,  though  his  tall  person  and  awkward  manner  gained 
him  the  nickname  of  Squire  Gawky,  among  the  political  scrib- 
blers of  the  day.  With  a  patron  of  this  jovial  temperament, 
Goldsmith  probably  felt  more  at  ease  than  with  those  of  higher 
refinement. 

The  celebrity  which  Goldsmith  had  acquired  by  his  poem  of 
"The  Traveller,"  occasioned  a  resuscitation  of  many  of  his 
miscellaneous  and  anonymous  tales  and  essays  from  the  va- 
rious newspapers  and  other  transient  publications  in  which 
they  lay  dormant.  These  he  published  in  1765,  in  a  collected 
form,  under  the  title  of  "Essays  by  Mr.  Goldsmith."  "The 
following  essays,"  observes  he  in  his  preface,  "have  already 
appeared  at  different  times,  and  in  different  publications. 
The  pamphlets  in  which  they  were  inserted  being  generally 
unsuccessful,  these  shared  the  common  fate,  without  assisting 
the  booksellers'  aims,  or  extending  the  author's  reputation. 
The  public  were  too  strenuously  employed  with  their  own  fol- 
lies to  be  assiduous  in  estimating  mine;  so  that  many  of  my 
best  attempts  in  this  way  have  fallen  victims  to  the  transient 
topic  of  the  times— the  Ghost  in  Cock-lane,  or  the  Siege  of 
Ticonderoga. 

"But,  though  they  have  passed  pretty  silently  into  the 
world,  I  can  by  no  means  complain  of  their  circulation.  The 
magazines  and  papers  of  the  day  have  indeed  been  liberal 
enough  in  this  respect.     Most  of  those  essays  have  been  regu- 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  \  \  g 

larly  reprinted  twice  or  thrice  a  year,  and  conveyed  to  the 
public  through  the  kennel  of  some  engaging  compilation.  If 
there  be  a  pride  in  multiplied  editions,  I  have  seen  some  of  my 
labors  sixteen  times  reprinted,  and  claimed  by  different  parents 
as  their  own.  I  have  seen  them  flourished  at  the  beginning 
with  praise,  and  signed  at  the  end  with  the  names  of  Philautos,, 
Philalethes,  Phileleutheros,  and  Philanthropos.  It  is  time, 
however,  at  last  to  vindicate  my  claims;  and  as  these  enter- 
tainers of  the  public,  as  they  call  themselves,  have  partly  lived 
upon  me  for  some  years,  let  me  now  try  if  I  cannot  live  a  little 
upon  myself." 

It  was  but  little,  in  fact,  for  all  the  pecuniary  emolument  he 
received  from  the  volume  was  twenty  guineas.  It  had  a  good 
circulation,  however,  was  translated  into  French,  and  has 
maintained  its  stand  among  the  British  classics. 

Notwithstanding  that  the  reputation  of  Goldsmith  had 
greatly  risen,  his  finances  wore  oi'ten  at  a  very  low  ebb,  owing 
to  his  heedlessness  as  to  expense,  his  liability  to  be  imposed 
upon,  and  a  spontaneous  and  irresistible  propensity  to  give  to 
every  one  who  asked.  The  very  rise  in  his  reputation  had  in- 
creased these  embarrassments.  It  had  enlarged  his  circle  of 
needy  acquaintances,  authors  pooi'er  in  pocket  than  himself, 
who  came  in  search  of  literary  counsel ;  which  generally  meant 
a  guinea  and  a  breakfast.  And  then  his  Irish  hangers-on 
"Our  Doctor,"  said  one  of  these  sponges,  "had  a  constant 
levee  of  his  distressed  countrymen,  whose  wants,  as  far  as  he 
was  able,  he  always  relieved ;  and  he  has  often  been  known  to 
leave  himself  without  a  guinea,  in  order  to  supply  the  neces- 
sities of  others." 

This  constant  drainage  of  the  purse  therefore  obliged  him  to 
undertake  all  jobs  proposed  by  the  booksellers,  and  to  keep  up 
a  kind  of  running  account  with  Mr.  Newbery;  who  was  his 
banker  on  all  occasions,  sometimes  for  pounds,  sometimes  for 
shillings;  but  who  was  a  rigid  accountant,  and  took  care  to  be 
■imply  repaid  in  manuscript.  Many  effusions  hastily  penned 
in  these  moments  of  exigency,  were  published  anonymously, 
and  never  claimed.  Some  of  them  have  but  recently  been 
traced  to  his  pen;  while  of  many  the  true  authorship  will 
probably  never  be  discovered.  Among  others  it  is  suggested, 
and  with  great  probability,  that  he  wrote  for  Mr.  Newbery  the 
famous  nursery  story  of  "  Goody  Two  Shoes,"  which  appeared 
in  1765,  at  a  moment  when  Goldsmith  was  scribbling  for  New- 
bery, and  much  pressed  for  funds.     Several  quaint  little  tales 


11<3  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

introduced  in  his  Essays  show  that  he  had  a  turn  for  this 
species  of  mock  history ;  and  the  advertisement  and  title-page 
bear  the  stamp  of:  his  sly  and  playful  humor. 

"We  are  desired  to  give  notice,  that  there  is  in  the  press,  and 
speedily  will  be  published,  either  by  subscription  or  otherwise, 
as  the  public  shall  please  to  determine,  the  History  of  Little 
Goody  Two  Shoes,  otherwise  Mrs.  Margery  Two  Shoes;  with 
the  means  by  which  she  acquired  learning  and  wisdom,  and, 
in  consequence  thereof,  her  estate;  set  forth  at  large  for  the 
benefit  of  those 

'  Who,  from  a  state  of  rags  and  care, 
And  having  shoes  but  half  a  pair, 
Their  fortune  and  their  fame  should  fix, 
And  gallop  in  a  coach  and  six." 

The  world  is  probably  not  aware  of  the  ingenuity,  humor, 
good  sense,  and  sly  satire  contained  in  many  of  the  old  Eng- 
lish nursery-tales.  They  have  evidently  been  the  sportive  pro- 
ductions of  able  writers,  who  would  not  trust  their  names  to 
productions  that  might  be  considered  beneath  their  dignity. 
The  ponderous  works  on  which  they  relied  for  immortality 
have  perhaps  sunk  into  oblivion,  and  carried  their  names 
down  with  them;  while  their  unacknowledged  offspring,  Jack 
the  Giant  Killer,  Giles  Gingerbread,  and  Tom  Thumb,  flourish 
in  wide-spreading  and  never-ceasing  popularity. 

As  Goldsmith  had  now  acquired  popularity  and  an  extensive 
acquaintance,  he  attempted,  wich  the  advice  of  his  friends,  to 
procure  a  more  regular  and  ample  support  by  resuming  the 
medical  profession.  He  accordingly  launched  himself  upon  the 
town  in  style ;  hired  a  man-servant ;  replenished  his  wardrobe 
at  considerable  expense,  and  appeared  in  a  professional  wig  and 
cane,  purple  silk  small-clothes,  and  a  scarlet  roquelaure  but- 
toned to  the  chin:  a  fantastic  garb,  as  we  should  think  at  the 
present  day,  but  not  unsuited  to  the  fashion  of  the  times. 

With  his  sturdy  little  person  thus  arrayed  in  the  unusual 
magnificence  of  purple  and  fine  linen,  and  his  scarlet  roquelaure 
flaunting  from  his  shoulders,  he  used  to  strut  into  the  apart- 
ments of  his  patients  swaying  his  three-cornered  hat  in  one 
hand  and  his  medical  sceptre,  the  cane,  in  the  other,  and  as- 
suming an  air  of  gravity  and  importance  suited  to  the  solem- 
nity of  his  wig:  at  least,  such  is  the  picture  givert-of  him  by 
the  waiting  gentlewoman  who  let  him  into  the  chamber  of  one 
of  his  lady  patients. 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  U7 

He  soon,  however,  grew  tired  and  impatient  of  the  duties 
and  restraints  of  his  profession ;  his  practice  was  chiefly  among 
his  friends,  and  the  fees  were  not  sufficient  for  his  maintenance ; 
he  was  disgusted  with  attendance  on  sick-chambers  and  capri- 
cious patients,  and  looked  back  with  longing  to  his  tavern 
haunts  and  broad  convivial  meetings,  from  which  the  dignity 
and  duties  of  his  medical  calling  restrained  him.  At  length, 
on  prescribing  to  a  lady  of  his  acquaintance  who,  to  use  a  hack- 
neyed phrase,  "rejoiced "in  the  aristocratical  name  of  Side- 
botham,  a  warm  dispute  arose  between  him  and  the  apothecary 
as  to  the  quantity  of  medicine  to  be  administered.  The  doctor 
stood  up  for  the  rights  and  dignities  of  his  profession,  and  re- 
sented the  interference  of  the  compounder  of  drugs.  His  rights 
and  dignities,  however,  were  disregarded;  his  wig  and  cane 
and  scarlet  roquelaure  were  of  no  avail ;  Mrs.  Sidebotham  sided 
with  the  hero  of  the  pestle  and  mortar ;  and  Goldsmith  flung 
out  of  the  house  in  a  passion.  "  I  am  determined  henceforth," 
said  he  to  Topham  Beauclerc,  "to  leave  off  prescribing  for 
friends."  "Do  so,  my  dear  doctor,"  was  the  reply;  "when- 
ever you  undertake  to  kill,  let  it  be  only  your  enemies." 

This  was  the  end  of  Goldsmith's  medical  career. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

PUBLICATION  OF  THE  VICAR  OF  WAKEFIELD— OPINIONS  CONCERN- 
ING IT — OF  DR.  JOHNSON — OF  ROGERS  THE  POET— OF  GOETHE- 
ITS  MERITS— EXQUISITE  EXTRACT — ATTACK  BY  KENRICK— RE- 
PLY— BOOK-BUILDING — PROJECT  OF  A  COMEDY. 

The  success  of  the  poem  of  "The  Traveller,"  and  the  popu- 
larity which  it  had  conferred  on  its  author,  now  roused  the  at- 
tention of  the  bookseller  in  whose  hands  the  novel  of  "The 
Vicar  of  Wakefield  "  had  been  slumbering  for  nearly  two  long 
years.  The  idea  has  generally  prevailed  that  it  was  Mr.  John 
Newbery  to  whom  the  manuscript  had  been  sold,  and  much 
surprise  has  been  expressed  that  he  should  be  insensible  to  its 
merit  and  suffer  it  to  remain  unpublished,  while  putting  forth 
various  inferior  writings  by  the  same  author.  This,  however, 
is  a  mistake ;  it  was  his  nephew,  Francis  Newbery,  who  had 
become  the  fortunate  purchaser.     Still  the  delay  is  equally  un- 


118  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

accountable.  Some  have  imagined  that  the  uncle  and  nephew 
had  business  arrangements  together,  in  which  this  work  was 
included,  and  that  the  elder  Newbeiy,  dubious  of  its  success, 
retarded  the  publication  until  the  full  harvest  of  "The  Trav- 
eller" should  be  reaped.  Booksellers  are  prone  to  make  egre- 
gious mistakes  as  to  the  merit  of  works  in  manuscript ;  and  to 
undervalue,  if  not  reject,  those  of  classic  and  enduring  excel- 
lence, when  destitute  of  that  false  brilliancy  commonly  called 
"  effect."  In  the  present  instance,  an  intellect  vastly  superior 
to  that  of  either  of  the  booksellers  was  equally  at  fault.  Dr. 
Johnson,  speaking  of  the  work  to  Boswell,  some  time  subse- 
quent to  its  pubheation,  observed,  ' '  I  myself  did  not  think  it 
would  have  had  much  success.  It  was  written  and  sold  to  a 
bookseller  before  'The  Traveller,'  but  published  after,  so  little 
expectation  had  the  bookseller  from  it.  Had  it  been  sold  after 
'The  Traveller,'  he  might  have  had  twice  as  much  money; 
though  sixty  guineas  teas  no  mean  price. " 

Sixty  guineas  for  the  Yicar  of  Wakefield !  and  this  could  be 
pronounced  no  mean  price  by  Dr.  Johnson,  at  that  time  the 
arbiter  of  British  talent,  and  who  had  had  an  opportunity  of 
witnessing  the  effect  of  the  work  upon  the  public  mind;  for  its 
success  was  immediate.  It  came  out  on  the  27th  of  March, 
1706 :  before  the  end  of  May  a  second  edition  was  called  for;  in 
three  months  more  a  third ;  and  so  it  went  on,  widening  in  a 
popularity  that  has  never  flagged.  Rogers,  the  Nestor  of 
British  literature,  whose  refined  purity  of  taste  and  exquisite 
mental  organization,  rendered  him  eminently  calculated  to 
appreciate  a  work  of  the  kind,  declared  that  of  all  the  books, 
which,  through  the  fitful  changes  of  three  generations  he  had 
seen  rise  and  fall,  the  charm  of  the  Vicar  of  Wakefield  had 
alone  continued  as  at  first;  and  could  he  revisit  the  world  after 
an  interval  of  many  more  generations,  he  should  as  surely  look 
to  find  it  undiminished.  Nor  has  its  celebrity  been  confined 
to  Great  Britain.  Though  so  exclusively  a  picture  of  British 
scenes  and  manners,  it  has  been  translated  into  almost  every 
language,  and  everywhere  its  charm  has  been  the  same. 
( ioethe,  the  great  genius  of  Germany,  declared  in  his  eighty- 
first  year,  that  it  was  his  delight  at  the  age  of  twenty,  that  it 
had  in  a  manner  formed  a  part  of  his  education,  influencing  his 
taste  and  feelings  throughout  life,  and  that  he  had  recently 
read  it  again  from  beginning  to  end — with  renewed  delight,  and 
with  a  grateful  sense  of  the  early  benefit  derived  from  it. 

It  is  needless  to  expatiate  upon  the  qualities  of  a  work  which 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  119 

has  thus  passed  from  country  to  country,  and  language  to  lan- 
guage, until  it  is  now  known  throughout  the  whole  reading 
world,  and  is  become  a  household  hook  in  every  hand.  The 
secret  of  its  universal  and  enduring  popularity  is  undoubtedly 
its  truth  to  nature,  but  to  nature  of  the  most  amiable  kind ;  to 
nature  such  as  Goldsmith  saw  it.  The  author,  as  we  have  occa- 
sionally shown  in  the  course  of  this  memoir,  took  his  scenes 
and  characters  in  this  as  in  his  other  writings,  from  originals 
in  his  own  motley  experience ;  but  he  has  given  them  as  seen 
through  the  medium  of  his  own  indulgent  eye,  and  has  set  them 
forth  with  the  colorings  of  his  own  good  head  and  heart.  Yet 
how  contradictory  it  seems  that  this,  one  of  the  most  delightful 
pictures  of  home  and  homefelt  happiness,  should  be  drawn  by 
a  homeless  man;  that  the  most  amiable  picture  of  domestic  vir- 
tue and  all  the  endearments  of  the  married  state  should  be 
drawn  by  a  bachelor,  who  had  been  severed  from  domestic  life 
almost  from  boyhood ;  that  one  of  the  most  tender,  touching, 
and  affecting  appeals  on  behalf  of  female  loveliness  should 
have  been  made  by  a  man  whose  deficiency  in  all  the  graces 
of  person  and  manner  seemed  to  mark  him  out  for  a  cynical 
disparager  of  the  sex. 

We  cannot  refrain  from  transcribing  from  the  work  a  short 
passage  illustrative  of  what  we  have  said,  and  which  within  a 
wonderfully  small  compass  comprises  a  world  of  beauty  of 
imagery,  tenderness  of  feeling,  delicacy  and  refinement  of 
thought,  and  matchless  purity  of  style.  The  two  stanzas 
which  conclude  it,  in  which  are  told  a  whole  history  of  a 
woman's  wrongs  and  sufferings,  is,  for  pathos,  simplicity,  and 
euphony,  a  gem  in  the  language.  The  scene  depicted  is  where 
the  poor  Vicar  is  gathering  around  him  the  wrecks  of  his  shat- 
tered family,  and  endeavoring  to  rally  them  back  to  happiness. 

' '  The  next  morning  the  sun  arose  with  peculiar  warmth  for 
the  season,  so  that  we  agreed  to  breakfast  together  on  the 
honeysuckle  bank;  where,  while  we  sat,  my  youngest  daugh- 
ter at  my  request  joined  her  voice  to  the  concert  on  the  trees 
about  us.  It  was  in  this  place  my  poor  Olivia  first  met  her 
seducer,  and  every  object  served  to  recall  her  sadness.  But 
that  melancholy  which  is  excited  by  objects  of  pleasure,  or 
inspired  by  sounds  of  harmony,  soothes  the  heart  instead  of 
corroding  it.  Her  mother,  too,  upon  this  occasion,  felt  a 
pleasing  distress,  and  wept,  and  loved  her  daughter  as  before. 
'  Do,  my  pretty  Olivia,'  cried  she,  '  let  us  have  that  melancholy 
air  your  father  wr.s  so  fond  of :  your  sister  Sophy  has  already 


120  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

obliged  us.     Do,  child;  it  will  please  your  old  father.'    Shs 
complied  in  a  manner  so  exquisitely  pathetic  as  moved  me. 

"  '  When  lovely  woman  stoops  to  folly, 
And  finds  too  late  that  men  betray, 
What  charm  can  soothe  her  melancholy. 
What  art  can  wash  her  guilt  away? 

"  '  The  only  art  her  guilt  to  cover, 

To  hide  her  shame  from  every  eye. 
To  giv.'  repentance  tn  her  lover, 
And  wring  his  bosom— is  to  die.'  " 

Scarce  had  the  Vicar  of  Wakefield"  made  its  appearance  and 
been  received  with  acclamation,  than  its  author  was  subjected 
to  one  of  the  usual  penalties  that  attend  success.  He  was  at- 
tacked in  the  newspapers.  In  one  of  the  chapters  he  had  in- 
troduced his  ballad  of  the  Hermit,  of  which,  as  we  have  men- 
tioned, a  few  copies  had  been  printed  some  considerable  time 
previously  for  the  use  of  the  Countess  of  Northumberland. 
This  brought  forth  the  following  article  in  a  fashionable  jour- 
nal of  the  day. 

"  To  the  Printer  of  the  Si.  James's  Chronicle. 


a 


Sir:  In  the  Reliques  of  Ancient  Poetry,  published  about 
two  years  ago,  is  a  very  beautiful  little  ballad,  called  '  A  Friar 
of  Orders  Gray.'  The  ingenious  editor,  Mr.  Percy,  supposes 
that  the  stanzas  sung  by  Ophelia  in  the  play  of  Hamlet  were 
parts  of  some  ballad  well  known  in  Shakespeare's  time,  and 
from  these  stanzas,  with  the  addition  of  one  or  two  of  his  own 
to  connect  them,  he  had  formed  the  above-mentioned  ballad ; 
the  subject  of  which  is,  a  lady  comes  to  a  convent  to  inquire 
for  her  love  who  had  been  driven  there  by  her  disdain.  She 
is  answered  by  a  friar  that  he  is  dead : 

"  '  No,  no,  he  is  dead,  gone  to  his  death's  bed. 
He  never  will  come  again.-' 

The  lady  weeps  and  laments  her  cruelty;  the  friar  endeavors 
to  comfort  her  with  morality  and  religion,  but  all  in  vain;  she 
expresses  the  deepest  grief  and  the  most  tender  sentiments  of 
love,  till  at  last  the  friar  discovers  himself : 

"  '  And  lo!  beneath  this  gown  of  gray 
Thy  own  true  love  appears.' 

"This  catastrophe  is  very  fine, ""and  the  whole,  joined  with 
the  greatest  tenderness,  has  the  greatest  simplicity;  yet. 
though  this  ballad  was  so  recently  published  in  tbs  Ancient 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH .  J21 

Reliques,  Dr.  Goldsmith  has  heen  hardy  enough  to  publish  a 
poem  called  '  The  Hermit, '  where  the  circumstances  and  catas- 
trophe are  exactly  the  same,  only  with  this  difference,  that 
the  natural  simplicity  and  tenderness  of  the  original  are  al- 
most entirely  lost  in  the  languid  smoothness  and  tedious  para- 
phrase of  the  copy,  which  is  as  short  of  the  merits  of  Mr. 
Percy's  ballad  as  the  insipidity  of  negus  is  to  the  genuine 
flavor  of  champagne. 

"  I  am,  sir,  yours,  etc., 

"Detector." 

This  attack,  supposed  to  be  by  Goldsmith's  constant  perse- 
cutor, the  malignant  Kenrick,  drew  from  him  the  following 
note  to  the  editor : 

"Sis:  As  there  is  nothing  I  dislike  so  much  as  newspaper 
controversy,  particularly  upon  trifles,  permit  me  to  be  as  con- 
cise as  possible  in  in  forming  a  correspondent  of  yours  that  I 
recommended  Blainville's  travels  because  I  thought  the  book 
was  a  good  one ;  and  I  think  so  still.  I  said  I  was  told  by  the 
bookseller  that  it  was  then  first  published ;  but  in  that  it  seems 
I  was  misinformed,  and  my  reading  was  not  extensive  enough 
to  set  me  right. 

"  Another  correspondent  of  yours  accuses  me  of  having 
taken  a  ballad  I  published  some  time  ago,  from  one  by  the  in- 
genious Mr.  Percy.  I  do  not  think  there  is  any  great  resem- 
blance between  the  two  pieces  in  question.  If  there  be  any, 
his  ballad  was  taken  from  mine.  I  read  it  to  Mr.  Percy  some 
years  ago ;  and  he,  as  we  both  considered  these  things  as  trifles 
at  best,  told  me,  with  Ms  usual  good-humor,  the  next  time  I 
saw  him,  that  he  had  taken  my  plan  to  form  the  fragments  of 
Shakespeare  into  a  ballad  of  his  own.  He  then  read  mc  his 
little  Cento,  if  I  may  so  call  it,  and  I  highly  approved  it.  Such 
petty  anecdotes  as  these  are  scarcely  worth  printing;  and 
were  it  not  for  the  busy  disposition  of  some  of  your  corre- 
spondents, the  public  should  never  have  known  that  he  owes 
me  the  hint  of  his  ballad,  or  that  I  am  obliged  to  his  friend- 
ship and  learning  for  communications  of  a  much  more  impor- 
tant nature. 

"  I  am,  sir,  yours,  etc., 

"Oliver  Goldsmith." 

The  unexpected  circulation  of  the  "  Vicar  of  Wakefield  "  en- 


122  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

riched  the  publisher,  but  not  the  author.  Goldsmith  no  doubt 
thought  himself  entitled  to  participate  in  the  profits  of  the  re- 
peated editions ;  and  a  memorandum,  still  extant,  shows  that 
be  drew  upon  Mr.  Francis  Newbery,  in  the  month  of  June,  for 
fifteen  guineas,  but  that  the  bill  was  returned  dishonored.  He 
continued  therefore  his  usual  job-work  for  the  booksellers, 
writing  introductions,  prefaces,  and  head  and  tail  pieces  for 
new  works ;  revising,  touching  up,  and  modifying  travels  and 
voyages;  making  compilations  of  prose  and  poetry,  and 
"  budding  books,"  as  he  sportively  termed  it.  These  tasks  re^ 
quired  little  labor  or  talent,  but  that  taste  and  touch  which  are 
the  magic  of  gifted  minds.  His  terms  began  to  be  propor- 
tioned to  his  celebrity.  If  his  price  was  at  any  time  objected 
to,  "  Why,  sir,"  he  would  say,  "it  may  seem  large;  but  then 
a  man  may  be  many  years  working  in  obscurity  before  his 
taste  and  reputation  are  fixed  or  estimated ;  and  then  he  is,  as 
in  other  professions,  only  paid  for  his  previous  labors." 

He  was,  however,  prepared  to  try  his  fortune  in  a  different 
walk  of  literature  from  any  he  had  yet  attempted.  We  have 
repeatedly  adverted  to  liis  fondness  for  the  drama ;  he  was  a 
frecnient  attendant  at  the  theatres ;  though,  as  we  have  shown, 
he  considered  them  under  gross  mismanagement.  He  thought 
too,  that  a  vicious  taste  prevailed  among  those  who  wrote  for 
the  stage.  "  A  new  species  of  dramatic  composition,"  says  he, 
in  one  of  his  essays,  "  has  been  introduced  under  the  name  of 
sentimental  comedy,  in  which  the  virtues  of  private  life  are 
exhibited,  rather  than  the  vices  exposed;  and  the  distresses 
rather  than  the  faults  of  mankind  make  our  interest  in  the 
piece.  In  these  plays  almost  all  the  characters  are  good,  and 
exceedingly  generous;  they  are  lavish  enough  of  their  tin 
money  on  the  stage;  and  though  they  want  humor,  have 
iibundance  of  sentiment  and  feeling.  If  they  happen  to  have 
faults  or  foibles,  the  spectator  is  taught  not  only  to  pardon, 
but  to  applaud  them  in  consideration  of  the  goodness  of  their 
hearts;  so  that  folly,  instead  of  being  ridiculed,  is  commended, 
and  the  comedy  aims  at  touching  our  passions,  without  the 
power  of  being  truly  pathetic.  In  this  manner  we  are  likely 
to  lose  one  great  source  of  entertainment  on  the  stage;  for 
while  the  comic  poet  is  invading  the  province  of  the  tragic 
muse,  he  leaves  her  lively  sister  qiute  neglected.  Of  this, 
however,  he  is  no  ways  solicitous,  lis  he  measures  his  fame  by 
his  profits.     .     .     . 

"  Humor  at  present  seems  to  be  departing  from  the  stage; 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  128 

and  it  will  soon  happen  that  our  comic  players  will  have  noth- 
ing left  for  it  but  a  fine  coat  and  a  song.  It  depends  upon  the 
audience  whether  they  will  actually  drive  those  poor  merry 
creatures  from  the  stage,  or  sit  at  a  play  as  gloomy  as  at  the 
tabernacle.  It  is  not  easy  to  recover  an  art  when  once  lost ; 
and  it  will  be  a  just  punishment,  that  when,  by  our  being  too 
fastidious,  we  have  banished  humor  from  the  stage,  we  should 
ourselves  be  deprived  of  the  art  of  laughing." 

Symptoms  of  reform  in  the  drama  had  recently  taken  place. 
The  comedy  of  the  Clandestine  Marriage,  the  joint  production 
of  Colman  and  G-arrick,  and  suggested  by  Hogarth's  inimitable 
pictures  of  "Marriage  a  la  mode,"  had  taken  the  town  by 
storm,  crowded  the  theatres  with  fashionable  audiences,  and 
formed  one  of  the  leading  literary  topics  of  the  year.  Gold- 
smith's emulation  was  roused  by  its  success.  The  comedy  was 
in  what  he  considered  the  legitimate  line,  totally  different  from 
the  sentimental  school;  it  presented  pictures  of  real  life,  de- 
lineations of  character  and  touches  of  humor,  in  which  he  felt 
himself  calculated  to  excel.  The  consequence  was  that  in  the 
course  of  this  year  (1766),  he  commenced  a  comedy  of  the 
same  class,  to  be  entitled  the  Good-Natured  Man,  at  which  he 
diligently  wrought  whenever  the  hurried  occupation  of  "  book 
building"  allowed  him  leisure. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


SOCIAL     POSITION    OF     GOLDSMITH  —  HIS     COLLOQUIAL     CONTESTS 
WITH  JOHNSON — ANECDOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

The  social  position  of  Goldsmith  had  undergone  a  material 
change  since  the  publication  of  "  The  Traveller."  Before  thai 
event  he  was  but  partially  known  as  the  author  of  some  clever 
anonymous  writings,  and  had  been  a  tolerated  member  of  the 
club  and  the  Johnson  circle,  without  much  being  expected 
from  him.  Now  he  had  suddenly  risen  to  literary  fame,  and 
become  one  of  the  lions  of  the  day.  The  highest  regions  of 
intellectual  society  were  now  open  to  him ;  but  he  was  not 
prepared  to  move  in  them  with  confidence  and  success.  Bally- 
mahon  had  not  been  a  good  school  of  manners  at  the  outset  of 
life;  nor  had  his  experience  as  a  "poor  student"  at  colleges 
and  medical  schools  contributed  to  give  him  the  polish  of 


124  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

society.  He  had  brought  from  Ireland,  as  he  said,  nothing 
but  his  "brogue  and  his  blunders,"  and  they  had  never  left 
him.  He  had  travelled,  it  is  true;  but  the  Continental  tour 
which  in  those  days  gave  the  finishing  grace  to  the  education 
of  a  patrician  youth,  had,  with  poor  Goldsmith,  been  little 
better  than  a  course  of  literary  vagabondizing.  It  had  en- 
riched his  mind,  deepened  end  widened  the  benevolence  of  his 
heart,  and  filled  his  memory  with  enchanting  pictures,  but  it 
had  contributed  little  to  disciplining  him  for  the  pohce  inter- 
course of  the  world.  His  life  in  London  had  hitherto  been  a 
struggle  with  sordid  cares  and  sad  humiliations.  "You 
scarcely  can  conceive,"  wrote  he  some  time  previously  to  his 
brother,  "  how  much  eight  years  of  disappointment,  anguish, 
and  study  have  worn  me  down."  Several  more  years  had 
since  been  added  to  the  term  during  which  he  had  trod  the 
lowly  walKs  of  life.  He  had  been  a  tutor,  an  apothecary's 
drudge,  a  petty  physician  of  the  suburbs,  a  bookseller's  hack, 
drudging  for  dafly  bread.  Each  separate  walk  had  been  beset 
by  its  peculiar  thorns  and  humiliations.  It  is  wonderful  how 
his  heart  retained  its  gentleness  and  kindness  through  all  these 
trials;  how  his  mind  rose  above  the  "meannesses  of  poverty," 
to  which,  as  he  says,  he  was  compelled  to  submit;  but  it  would 
be  still  more  wonderful,  had  his  manners  acquired  a  tone 
corresponding  to  the  innate  grace  and  refinement  of  his  in- 
tellect. He  was  near  forty  years  of  age  when  he  published 
"  The  Traveller,"  and  was  lifted  by  it  into  celebrity.  As  is 
beautifully  said  of  him  by  one  of  his  biographers,  "he  has 
fought  his  way  to  consideration  and  esteem;  but  he  bears 
upon  him  the  scars  of  his  twelve  years'  conflict;  of  the  mean 
sorrows  through  which  he  has  passed ;  and  of  the  cheap  in- 
dulgences he  has  sought  relief  and  help  from.  There  is  noth- 
ing plastic  in  his  nature  now.  His  manners  and  habits  are 
completely  formed ;  and  in  them  any  further  success  can  make 
little  favorable  change,  whatever  it  may  effect  for  his  mind  or 
genius."  * 

"We  are  not  to  be  surprised,  therefore,  at  finding  him  make 
an  awkward  figure  in  the  elegant  drawing-rooms  which  were 
now  open  to  him,  and  disappointing  those  who  had  formed  an 
idea  of  him  from  the  fascinating  ease  and  gracefulness  of  his 
poetry.  _ 

Even  the  literary  club,  and  the  circle  of  which  it  formed  a 

T  - ■  ■  ■  ,  ■  ■* 

*  Forster's  Goldsmith. 


OLIVER   0 OLD SMITH.  \^0 

part,  after  their  surprise  at  the  intellectual  flights  of  which  he 
showed  himself  capable,  fell  into  a  conventional  mode  of  judg- 
ing and  talking  of  him,  and  of  placing  him  in  absurd  and 
whimsical  points  of  view.  His  very  celebrity  operated  here  to 
his  disadvantage.  It  brought  him  into  continual  comparison 
with  Johnson,  who  was  the  oracle  of  that  circle  and  had  given 
it  a  tone.  Conversation  was  the  great  staple  there,  and  of  this 
Johnson  was  a  master.  He  had  been  a  reader  and  thinker 
from  childhood ;  his  melancholy  temperament,  which  unfitted 
him  for  the  pleasures  of  youth,  had  made  him  so.  For  many 
years  past  the  vast  variety  of  works  he  had  been  obliged  to 
consult  in  preparing  his  Dictionary,  had  stored  an  uncom- 
monly retentive  memory  with  facts  on  all  kinds  of  subjects ; 
making  it  a  perfect  colloquial  armory.  "  He  had  all  his  life," 
say?  Boswell,  ' '  habituated  himself  to  consider  conversation  as 
a  trial  of  intellectual  vigor  and  skill.  He  had  disciplined  him- 
self as  a  talker  as  well  as  a  writer,  making  it  a  rule  to  impart 
whatever  he  knew  in  the  most  forcible  language  he  could  put 
it  in,  so  that  by  constant  practice  and  never  suffering  any 
careless  expression  to  escape  him,  he  had  attained  an  extraor- 
dinary accuracy  and  command  of  language." 

His  common  conversation  in  all  companies,  according  to  Sir 
Joshua  EeynoldSj  was  such  as  to  secure  him  universal  atten- 
tion, something  above  the  usual  colloquial  style  being  always 
expected  from  him. 

" I  do  not  care,"  said  Orme,  the  historian  of  Hindostan,  "on 
what  subject  Johnson  talks ;  but  I  love  better  to  hear  him  talk 
than  anybody.  He  either  gives  you  new  thoughts  or  a  new 
coloring. " 

A  stronger  and  more  graphic  eulogium  is  given  by  Dr. 
Percy.  "The  conversation  of  Johnson,"  says  he,  "is  strong 
and  clear,  and  may  be  compared  to  an  antique  statue,  where 
every  vein  and  muscle  is  distinct  and  clear. " 

Such  was  the  colloquial  giant  with  which  Goldsmith's  cele- 
brity and  his  habits  of  intimacy  brought  him  into  continual 
comparison;  can  we  wonder  that  he  should  appear  to  dis- 
advantage ?  Conversation  grave,  discursive,  and  disputatious, 
such  as  Johnson  excelled  and  delighted  in,  was  to  him  a  severe 
task,  and  he  never  was  good  at  a  task  of  any  kind.  He  had 
not,  like  Johnson,  a  vast  fund  of  acquired  facts  to  draw  upon ; 
nor  a  retentive  memory  to  furnish  tliem  forth  when  wanted. 
He  could  not,  like  the  great  lexicographer,  mould  his  ideas 
and  balance  his  periods  while  talking.     He  had  a  flow  of  ideas, 


126  *  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

but  it  was  apt  to  be  hurried  and  confused,  and  as  he  said  oi 
himself,  he  had  contracted  a  hesitating  and  disagreeable  man- 
ner of  speaking.    He  used  to  say  that  he  always  argued  best 
when  he  argued  alone ;  that  is  to  say,  he  could  master  a  sub- 
ject in  his  study,  with  his  pen  in  his  hand ;  but,  when  he  came 
into  company  he  grew  confused,  and  was  unable  to  talk  about 
it.     Johnson  made  a  remark  concerning  him  to  somewhat  of 
the  same  purport.     "No  man,"  said  he,  "is  more  foolish  than 
Goldsmith  when  he  has  not  a  pen  in  his  hand,  or  more  wise 
when  he  has."     Yet  with  all  this  conscious  deficiency  he  was 
continually  getting  involved  in  colloquial  contests  with  John- 
son and  other  prime  talkers  of  the  literary  circle.     He  felt  that 
he  had  become  a  notoriety ;  that  he  had  entered  the  lists  and 
was  expected  to  make  fight ;  so  with  that  heedlessness  which 
characterized  him  in  everything  else  he  dashed  on  at  a  ven- 
ture; trusting  to  chance  in  this  as  in  other  things,  and  hoping 
occasionally  to  make  a  lucky  hit.     Johnson  perceived  his  hap- 
hazard temerity,  but  gave  him  no  credit  for  the  real  diffidence 
which  lay  at  bottom.     "The  misfortune  of  Goldsmith  in  con- 
versation," said  he,  "istbis,  he  goes  on  without  knowing  how 
he  is  to  get  off.      His  genius  is  great,  but  his  knowledge  is 
small.     As  they  say  of  a  generous  man,  it  is  a  pity  he  is  not 
rich,  we  may  say  of  Goldsmith  it  is  a  pity  he  is  not  knowing. 
He  would  not  keep    his   knowledge  to  himself."     And,   on 
another  occasion,  he  observes:  "Goldsmith,  rather  than  not 
talk,  will  talk  of  what  he  knows  himself  to  be  ignorant,  which 
can  only  end  in  exposing  him.     If  in  company  with  two  foun- 
ders, he  would  fall  a  talking  on  the  method  of  making  cannon, 
though  both  of  them  would  soon  see  that  he  did  not  know 
what  metal  a  camion  is  made 'of."    And  again:  "Goldsmith 
should  not  be  forever  attempting  to  shine  in  conversation ;  he 
has  not  temper  for  it,  he  is  so  much  mortified  when  he  fails. 
Sir,  a  game  of  jokes  is  composed  partly  of  skill,  partly  of 
chance ;  a  man  may  be  beat  at  times  by  one  who  has  not  the 
tenth  part  of  his  wit.     Now  Goldsmith,  putting  himself  against 
another,  is  like  a  man  laying  a  hundred  to  one,  who  cannot 
spare  the  hundred.     It  is  not  worth  a  man's  while.     A  man 
should  not  lay  a  hundred  to  one  unless  he  can  easily  spare  it, 
though  he  has  a  hundred  chances  for  him ;  he  can  get  but  a 
guinea,  and  he  may  lose  a  hundred.      Goldsmith  is  in  this 
state.     When  he  contends,  if  he  gets  the  better,  it  is  a  very 
little  addition  to  a  man  of  his  literary  reputation;  if  he  does 
not  get  the  better,  he  is  miserably  vexed." 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  127 

Johnson  was  not  aware  how  much  he  was  himself  to  blame 
in  producing  this  vexation.  "  Goldsmith,"  said  Miss  Reynolds, 
"always  appeared  to  be  overawed  by  Johnson,  particularly 
when  in  company  with  people  of  any  consequence  ;  always  as 
if  impressed  with  fear  of  disgrace ;  and  indeed  well  he  might. 
I  have  been  witness  to  many  mortifications  he  has  suffered  in 
Dr.  Johnson's  company." 

It  may  not  have  been  disgrace  that  he  feared,  but  rudeness. 
The  great  lexicographer,  spoiled  by  the  homage  of  society,  was 
still  more  prone  than  himself  to'  lose  temper  when  the  argu- 
ment went  against  him.  He  could  not  brook  appearing  to  be 
worsted  ;  but  would  attempt  to  bear  down  his  adversary  by 
the  rolling  thunder  of  his  periods  ;  and  when  that  failed, 
would  become  downright  insulting.  Boswell  called  it  ' '  having 
recourse  to  some  sudden  mode  of  robust  sophistry;"  but  Gold- 
smith designated  it  much  more  happily.  "There  is  no  argu- 
ing with  Johnson,"  said  he,  "for  when  his  pistol  misses  fire,  he 
knocks  you  down  with  the  butt  end  of  it."  * 

In  several  of  the  intellectual  collisions  recorded  by  Boswell 
as  triumphs  of  Dr.  Johnson,  it  really  appears  to  us  that  Gold- 
smith had  the  best  both  of  the  wit  and  the  argument,  and 
especially  of  the  courtesy  and  good-nature. 

On  one  occasion  he  certainly  gave  Johnson  a  capital  reproof 
as  to  his  own  colloquial  peculiarities.  Talking  of  fables,  Gold- 
smith observed  that  the  animals  introduced  in  them  seldom 
alked  in  character.  "For  instance,"  said  he,  "the  fable  of 
the  little  fishes,  who  saw  birds  fly  over  their  heads,  and,  envy- 
ing them,  petitioned  Jupiter  to  be  changed  into  birds.  The 
skill  consists  in  making  them  talk  like  little  fishes."  Just  then 
observing  that  Dr.  Johnson  was  shaking  his  sides  and  laugh- 
ing, he  immediately  added,  "Why,  Dr.  Johnson,  this  is  not'so 
easy  as  you  seem  to  think ;  for  if  you  were  to  make  little  fishes 
talk,  they  would  talk  like  whales." 

But  though  Goldsmith  suffered  frequent  mortifications  in  so- 
ciety from  the  overbearing,  and  sometimes  harsh,  conduct  of 
Johnson,  he  always  did  justice  to  his  benevolence.  When 
royal  pensions  were  granted  to  Dr.  Johnson  and  Dr.  Sheb- 
beare,  a  punster  remarked,  that  the  king  had  pensioned  a  she- 


*  The  following  is  given  by  Boswell,  as  an  instance  of  robust  sophistry:  "Once, 
when  I  was  pressing  upon  him  with  visible  advantage,  he  stopped  me  thus,  '  My 
dear  Boswell,  let's  have  no  more  of  this;  you'll  make  nothing  of  it.  I'd  rather  hear 
you  whistle  a  Scotch  tune.'  " 


+ 


130  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

of  several  works  of  superficial  merit,  but  which  had  sufficient, 
vogue  to  inflate  his  vanity.  This,  however,  must  have  been 
mortified  on  his  first  introduction  to  Johnson ;  after  sitting  a 
short  time  he  got  up  to  take  leave,  expressing  a  fear  that  a 
longer  visit  might  be  troublesome.  "Not  in  the  least,  sir," 
said  the  surly  moralist,  "I  had  forgotten  you  were  in  the 
room."  Johnson  used  to  speak  of  him  as  a  man  who  had 
written  more  than  he  had  read. 

A  prime  wag  of  this  club  was  one  of  Goldsmith's  poor  coun- 
trymen and  hangers-on,  by  the  name  of  Glover.  He  had  ori- 
ginally been  educated  for  the  medical  profession,  but  had  taken 
in  early  life  to  the  stage,  though  apparently  without  much  suc- 
cess. While  performing  at  Cork,  he  undertook,  partly  in  jest, 
to  restore  life  to  the  body  of  a  malefactor,  who  had  just  been 
executed.  To  the  astonishment  of  every  one,  himself  among 
the  number,  he  succeeded.  The  miracle  took  wind.  He  aban- 
doned the  stage,  resumed  the  wig  and  cane,  and  considered  his 
fortune  as  secure.  Unluckily,  there  were  not  many  dead  peo- 
ple to  be  restored  to  life  in  Ireland ;  his  practice  did  not  equal 
his  expectation,  so  he  came  to  London,  where  he  continued  to 
dabble  indifferently,  and  rather  unprofitably,  in  physic  and 
literature. 

He  was  a  great  frequenter  of  the  Globe  and  Devil  taverns, 
where  he  used  to  amuse  the  company  by  his  talent  at  story- 
telling and  his  powers  of  mimicry,  giving  capital  imitations  of 
Garrick,  Foote,  Colman,  Sterne,  and  other  public  characters 
of  the  day.  He  seldom  happened  to  have  money  enough  to 
pay  his  reckoning,  but  was  always  sure  to  find  some  ready 
purse  among  those  who  had  been  amused  by  his  humors. 
Goldsmith,  of  course,  was  one  of  the  readiest.  It  was  through 
him  that  Glover  was  admitted  to  the  Wednesday  Club,  of 
which  his  theatrical  imitations  became  the  delight.  Glover, 
however,  was  a  little  anxious  for  the  dignity  of  his  patron, 
which  appeared  to  him  to  suffer  from  the  over-familiarity  of 
some  of  the  members  of  the  club.  He  was  especially  shocked 
by  the  free  and  easy  tone  in  which  Goldsmith  was  addressed 
by  the  pig-butcher:  "  Come,  Noll,"  would  he  say  as  he  pledged 
him,  "  here's  my  service  to  you,  old  boy!" 

Glover  whispered  to  Goldsmith  that  he  ' '  should  not  allow 
such  liberties."  ''Let  him  alone,"  was  the  reply,  "you'll  see 
how  civilly  I'll  let  him  down."  After  a  time,  he-called  out, 
with  marked  ceremony  and  politeness,  "Mr.  B.,  I  have  the 
honor  of  drinking  your  good  health."    Alas!  dignity  was  not 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  131 

poor  Goldsmith's  forte:  he  could  keep  no  one  at  a  distance. 
"Thank'ee,  thank'ee,  Noll,"  nodded  the  pig-butcher,  scarce 
taking  the  pipe  out  of  his  mouth.  "I  don't  see  the  effect  of 
your  reproof,"  whispered  Glover.  "I  give  it  up,"  replied 
Goldsmith,  with  a  good-humored  shrug,  "I  ought  to  have 
known  before  now  there  is  no  putting  a  pig  in  the  right  way." 

Johnson  used  to  be  severe  upon  Goldsmith  for  mingling  in 
ibhese  motley  circles,  observing,  that,  having  been  originally 
poor,  he  had  contracted  a  love  for  low  company.  Goldsmith, 
however,  was  guided  not  by  a  taste  for  what  was  low,  but  for 
what  was  comic  and  characteristic.  It  was  the  feeling  of  the 
artist;  the  feeling  which  furnished  out  some  of  his  best  scenes 
in  familiar  life;  the  feeling  with  which  "rare  Ben  Jonson" 
sought  these  very  haunts  raid  circles  in  days  of  yore,  to  study 
"  Every  Man  in  his  Humor." 

It  was  not  always,  however,  that  the  humor  of  these  asso- 
ciates was  to  his  taste:  as  they  became  boisterous  in  their 
merriment,  he  was  apt  to  become  depressed.  "The  company 
of  fools,"  says  he,  in  one  of  his  essays,  "  may  at  first  make  us 
smile;  but  at  last  never  fails  of  making  us  melancholy." 
"  Often  he  would  become  moody,"  says  Glover,  "and  would 
leave  the  party  abruptly  to  go  home  and  brood  over  his  mis- 
fortune." 

,  It  is  possible,  however,  that  he  went  home  for  quite  a  differ- 
ent purpose ;  to  commit  to  paper  some  scene  or  passage  sug- 
gested for  his  comedy  of  The  Good-Katurcd  Man.  The  ela- 
boration of  humor  is  often  a  most  serious  task ;  and  we  have 
never  witnessed  a  more  perfect  picture  of  mental  misery  than 
was  once  presented  to  us  by  a  popular  dramatic  writer — still, 
wo  hope,  living— whom  we  found  in  the  agonies  of  producing 
a  farce  which  subsequently  set  the  theatres  in  a  roar. 


CHAPTEE  XX. 

THE  GREAT  CHAM  OF  LITERATURE  AND  THE  KING — SCENE  AT  SIR 
JOSHUA  REYNOLDS'S  —  GOLDSMITH  ACCUSED  OF  JEALOUSY- 
NEGOTIATIONS  WITH  GARRICK— THE  AUTHOR  AND  THE  ACTOR 
—THEIR  CORRESPONDENCE. 

The  comedy  of  The  Good-Natured  Man  was  completed  by 
Goldsmith  early  in  1767,  and  submitted  to  the  perusal  of  John- 


130  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

of  several  works  of  superficial  merit,  but  which  had  sufficient 
vogue  to  inflate  his  vanity.  This,  however,  must  have  been 
mortified,  on  his  first  introduction  to  Johnson ;  after  sitting  a 
short  time  he  got  up  to  take  leave,  expressing  a  fear  that  a 
longer  visit  might  be  troublesome.  ''Not  in  the  least,  sir," 
said  the  surly  moralist,  ' '  I  had  forgotten  you  were  in  the 
room."  Johnson  used  to  speak  of  him  as  a  man  who  had 
written  more  than  he  had  read. 

A  prime  wag  of  this  club  was  one  of  Goldsmith's  poor  coun- 
trymen and  hangers-on,  by  the  name  of  Glover.  He  had  ori- 
ginally been  educated  for  the  medical  profession,  but  had  taken 
in  early  life  to  the  stage,  though  apparently  without  much  suc- 
cess. While  performing  at  Cork,  he  undertook,  partly  in  jest, 
to  restore  life  to  the  body  of  a  malefactor,  who  had  just  been 
executed.  To  the  astonishment  of  every  one,  himself  among 
the  number,  he  succeeded.  The  miracle  took  wind.  He  aban- 
doned the  stage,  resumed  the  wig  and  cane,  and  considered  his 
fortune  as  secure.  Unluckily,  there  were  not  many  dead  peo- 
ple to  be  restored  to  life  in  Ireland ;  his  practice  did  not  equal 
his  expectation,  so  he  came  to  London,  where  he  continued  to 
dabble  indifferently,  and  rather  unprofitably,  in  physic  and 
literature. 

He  was  a  great  frequenter  of  the  Globe  and  Devil  taverns, 
where  he  used  to  amuse  the  company  by  his  talent  at  story- 
telling and  his  powers  of  mimicry,  giving  capital  hnitations  of 
Garrick,  Foote,  Colman,  Sterne,  and  other  public  characters 
of  the  day.  He  seldom  happened  to  have  money  enough  to 
pay  his  reckoning,  but  was  always  sure  to  find  some  ready 
purse  among  those  who  had  been  amused  by  his  humors. 
Goldsmith,  of  course,  was  one  of  the  readiest.  It  was  through 
him  that  Glover  was  admitted  to  the  Wednesday  Club,  of 
which  his  theatrical  imitations  became  the  delight.  Glover, 
however,  was  a  little  anxious  for  the  dignity  of  his  patron, 
which  appeared  to  him  to  suffer  from  the  over-familiarity  of 
some  of  the  members  of  the  club.  He  was  especially  shocked 
by  the  free  and  easy  tone  in  which  Goldsmith  was  addressed 
by  the  pig-butcher :  - '  Come,  Noll, "  would  he  say  as  he  pledged 
him,  "  here's  my  service  to  you,  old  boy!" 

Glover  whispered  to  Goldsmith  that  he  ' '  should  not  allow 
such  liberties."  '"Let  him  alone/'  was  the  reply,  "you'll  see 
howr  civilly  I'll  let  him  down."  After  a  time,  he  called  out, 
with  marked  ceremony  and  politeness,  ' '  Mr.  B. ,  I  have  the 
honor  of  drinking  your  good  health."    Alas!  dignity  was  not 


OLIVEU  GOLDSMITH.  131 

poor  Goldsmith's  forte:  he  could  keep  no  one  at  a  distance. 
"Thank'ee,  thank'ee,  Noll,"  nodded  the  pig-butcher,  scarce 
taking  the  pipe  out  of  his  mouth.  "I  don't  see  the  effect  of 
your  reproof,"  whispered  Glover.  "I  give  it  up,"  replied 
Goldsmith,  with  a  good-humored  shrug,  "I  ought  to  have 
known  before  now  there  is  no  putting  a  pig  in  the  right  way." 
Johnson  used  to  be  severe  upon  Goldsmith  for  mingling  in 
these  motley  circles,  observing,  that,  having  been  originally 
poor,  he  had  contracted  a  love  for  low  company.  Goldsmith, 
however,  was  guided  not  by  a  taste  for  what  was  low,  but  for 
what  was  comic  and  characteristic.  It  was  the  feeling  of  the 
artist ;  the  feeling  which  furnished  out  some  of  his  best  scenes 
in  familiar  life;  the  feeling  with  which  "rare  Ben  Jonson" 
■  lught  these  very  haunts  and  circles  in  days  of  yore,  to  study 
"  Every  Man  in  his  Humor." 

It  was  not  always,  however,  that  the  humor  of  these  asso- 
ciates was  to  his  taste:  as  they  became  boisterous  in  their 
merriment,  he  was  apt  to  become  depressed.  "The  company 
of  fools,"  says  he,  in  one  of  his  essays,  "  may  at  first  make  us 
smile;  but  at  last  never  fails  of  making  us  melancholy." 
"  Often  he  would  become  moody,"  says  Glover,  "and  would 
leave  the  party  abruptly  to  go  home  and  brood  over  his  mis- 
fortune." 

,  It  is  possible,  however,  that  he  went  home  for  quite  a  differ- 
ent purpose ;  to  commit  to  paper  some  scene  or  passage  sug- 
gested for  his  comedy  of  The  Good-Natured  Man.  The  ela- 
boration of  humor  is  often  a  most  serious  task ;  and  we  have 
never  witnessed  a  more  perfect  picture  of  mental  misery  than 
was  once  presented  to  us  by  a  popular  dramatic  writer — still, 
wo  hope,  living— whom  we  found  in  the  agonies  of  producing 
a  farce  which  subsequently  set  the  theatres  in  a  roar. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE  GREAT  CHAM  OF  LITERATURE  AND  THE  KING — SCENE  AT  SIR 
JOSHUA  REYNOLDS'S  —  GOLDSMITH  ACCUSED  OF  JEALOUSY- 
NEGOTIATIONS  WITH  GARRICK— THE  AUTHOR  AND  THE  ACTOR 
—THEIR  CORRESPONDENCE. 

The  comedy  of  The  Good-Natured  Man  was  completed  by 
Goldsmith  early  in  1767,  and  submitted  to  the  perusal  of  John- 


132  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

son,  Burke,  Reynolds,  and  others  of  the  literary  club,  by 
whom  it  was  heartily  approved.  Johnson,  who  A\ras  seldom 
half  way  either  in  censure  or  applause,  pronounced  it  the  best 
comedy  that  had  been  written  since  The  Provoked  Husband, 
and  promised  to  furnish  the  prologue.  This  immediately 
became  an  object  of  great  solicitude  with  Goldsmith,  knowing 
the  weight  an  introduction  from  the  Great  Cham  of  literature 
would  have  with  the  public ;  but  circumstances  occurred  which 
he  feared  might  drive  the  comedy  and  the  prologue  from 
Johnson's  thoughts.  The  latter  was  in  the  habit  of  visiting 
the  royal  library  at  the  Queen's  (Buckingham)  House,  a  noble 
collection  of  books,  in  the  formation  of  which  he  had  assisted 
the  librarian,  Mr.  Bernard,  with  his  advice.  One  evening,  as 
he  was  seated  there  by  the  fire  reading,  he  was  surprised  by 
the  entrance  of  the  King  (George  III.),  then  a  young  man:  who 
sought  this  occasion  to  have  a  conversation  with  him.  The 
conversation  was  varied  and  discursive ;  the  king  shifting  from 
subject  to  subject  according  to  his  wont ;  ' '  during  the  whole 
interview,"  says  Bos  well,  "Johnson  talked  to  his  majesty 
with  profound  respect,  but  still  in  his  open,  manly  manner, 
with  a  sonorous  voice,  and  never  in  that  subdued  tone  Avhich 
is  commonly  used  at  the  levee  and  in  the  drawing-room.  '  I 
found  his  majesty  wished  I  should  talk, '  said  he,  '  and  I  made 
it  my  business  to  talk.  I  find  it  does  a  man  good  to  be  talked 
to  by  his  sovereign.  In  the  first  place,  a  man  cannot  be  in  a 
passion — ' "  It  would  have  been  well  for  Johnson's  colloquial 
disputants,  could  he  have  often  been  under  such  decorous 
restraint.  He  retired  from  the  interview  highly  gratified  with 
the  conversation  of  the  King  and  with  his  gracious  behavior. 
"Sir,"  said  he  to  the  librarian,  "they  may  talk  of  the  King  as 
they  will,  but  he  is  the  finest  gentleman  I  have  ever  seen." 
" Sir,"  said  he  subsequently  to  Bennet  Langton,  "his  manners 
are  those  of  as  fine  a  gentleman  as  we  may  suppose  Lewis  the 
Fourteenth  or  Charles  the  Second." 

While  Johnson's  face  was  still  radiant  with  the  reflex  of 
royalty,  he  was  holding  forth  one  day  to  a  listening  group  at 
Sir  Joshua  Reynolds's,  who  were  anxious  to  hear  every  par- 
ticular of  this  memorable  conversation.  Among  other  ques- 
tions, the  King  had  asked  him  whether  he  was  writing  any- 
thing. His  reply  was  that  he  thought  he  had  already  done  his 
part  as  a  writer.  "I  should  have  thought  so  too,"  said  the 
King,  "if  you  had  not  written  so  well."  "No  man,"  said 
Johnson,  commenting  on  this  speech,   "could  have  made  a 


OLIVEU  GOLDSMITH.  I33 

handsomer  compliment ;  and  it  was  fit  for  a  king  to  pay.  It 
was  decisive."  "  But  did  you  make  no  reply  to  tins  high  com- 
pliment?" asked  one  of  the  company.  "No,  sir,"  replied  the 
profoundly  deferential  Johnson,  ' '  when  the  King  had  said  it, 
it  was  to  be  so.  It  was  not  for  me  to  bandy  civilities  wilh  my 
sovereign." 

During  all  the  time  that  Johnson  was  thus  holding  forth, 
Goldsmith,  who  was  present,  appeared  to  take  no  interest  in 
the  royal  theme,  but  remained  seated  on  a  sofa  at  a  distance, 
in  a  moody  fit  of  abstraction ;  at  length  recollecting  himself, 
he  sprang  up,  and  advancing,  exclaimed,  with  what  Boswell 
calls  Iris  usual  "frankness  and  simplicity,"  "Well,  you  ac- 
quitted yourself  in  this  conversation  better  than  I  should  have 
done,  for  I  shoidd  have  bowed  and  stammered  through  the 
whole  of  it. "  He  afterward  explained  Iris  seeming  inattention, 
by  saying  that  his  mind  was  completely  occupied  about  his 
play,  and  by  fears  lest  Johnson,  in  his  present  state  of  royal 
excitement,  would  fail  to  furnish  the  much-desired  prologue. 

How  natural  and  truthful  is  this  explanation.  Yet  BosweU 
presumes  to  pronounce  Goldsmith's  inattention  affected,  and 
attributes  it  to  jealousy.  "  It  was  strongly  suspected,"  says 
he,  "that  he  was  fretting  with  chagrin  and  envy  at  the  singu- 
lar honor  Dr.  Johnson  had  lately  enjoyed."  It  needed  the 
littleness  of  mind  of  Boswell  to  ascribe  such  pitiful  motives 
to  Goldsmith,  and  to  entertain  such  exaggerated  notions  of  the 
honor  paid  to  Dr.  Johnson. 

The  Good-Natured  Man  was  now  ready  for  performance,  but 
the  question  was  how  to  get  it  upon  the  stage.  The  affairs  of 
Covent  Garden,  for  which  it  had  been  intended,  were  thrown 
in  confusion  by  the  recent  death  of  Rich,  the  manager.  Drury 
Lane  was  under  the  management  of  Garrick,  but  a  feud,  it 
will  be  recollected,  existed  between  him  and  the  poet,  from  the 
animadversions  of  the  latter  on  the  mismanagement  of  theat- 
rical affairs,  and  the  refusal  of  the  former  to  give  the  poet  his 
vote  for  the  secretaryship  of  the  Society  of  Arts.  Times,  how- 
ever, were  changed.  Goldsmith  when  that  feud  took  place 
was  an  anonymous  writer,  almost  unknown  to  fame,  and  of  no 
circulation  in  society. 

Now  he  had  become  a  literary  lion;  he  was  a  member 
of  the  Literary  Club;  he  was  the  associate  of  Johnson, 
Burke,  Topham  Beauclerc,  and  other  magnates — in  a  word, 
he  had  risen  to  consequence  in  the  public  eye,  and  of  course 
was   ef    consequence   in   the  eyes  of   David    Garrick.       Sir 


134  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

Joshua  Reynolds  saw  the  lurking  scruples  of  pride  exist- 
ing between  the  author  and  actor,  and  thinking  it  a  pity  that 
two  men  of  such  congenial  talents,  and  who  might  be  so  ser- 
viceable to  each  other,  should  be  kept  asunder  by  a  wornout 
pique,  exerted  his  friendly  offices  to  bring  them  together.  The 
meeting  took  place  in  Reynolds's  house  in  Leicester  Square. 
Garrick,  however,  could  not  entirely  put  off  the  mock  majesty 
of  the  stage ;  he  meant  to  be  civil,  but  he  was  rather  too  gra- 
cious and  condescending.  Tom  Davies,  in  his  "Life  of  Gar- 
rick," gives  an  amusing  picture  of  the  coming  together  of  these 
punctilious  parties.  "The  manager,"  says  he,  'Svas  fully 
conscious  of  his  (Goldsmith's)  merit,  and  perhaps  more  osten- 
tatious of  his  abilities  to  serve  a  dramatic  author  than  became 
a  man  of  his  prudence ;  Goldsmith  was,  on  his  side,  as  fully 
persuaded  of  his  own  importance  and  independent  greatness. 
Mr.  Garrick,  who  had  so  long  been  treated  with  the  compli- 
mentary language  paid  to  a  successful  patentee  and  admired 
actor,  expected  that  the  writer  would  esteem  the  patronage  of 
his  play  a  favor ;  Goldsmith  rejected  all  ideas  of  kindness  in  a 
bargain  that  was  intended  to  be  of  mutual  advantage  to  both 
parties,  and  in  this  he  was  certainly  justifiable ;  Mr.  Garrick 
could  reasonably  expect  no  thanks  for  the  acting  a  new  play, 
which  he  would  have  rejected  if  he  had  not  been  convinced  it 
would  amply  reward  his  pains  and  expense.  I  believe  the 
manager  was  willing  to  accept  the  play,  but  he  wished  to 
be  courted  to  it ;  and  the  doctor  was  not  disposed  to  purchase 
his  friendship  by  the  resignation  of  his  sincerity. "  They  sepa- 
rated, however,  with  an  understanding  on  the  part  of  Gold- 
smith that  his  play  would  be  acted.  The  conduct  of  Garrick 
subsequently  proved  evasive,  not  through  any  lingerings  of 
past  hostility,  but  from  habitual  indecision  in  matters  of  the 
kind,  and  from  real  scruples  of  delicacy.  He  did  not  think  the 
piece  likely  to  succeed  on  the  stage,  and  avowed  that  opinion 
to  Reynolds  and  Johnson;  but  hesitated  to  say  as  much  to 
Goldsmith,  through  fear  of  wounding  his  feelings.  A  further 
misunderstanding  was  the  result  of  this  want  of  decision  and 
frankness ;  repeated  interviews  and  some  correspondence  took 
place  without  bringing  matters  to  a  point,  and  in  the  meantime 
the  theatrical  season  passed  away. 

Goldsmith's  pocket,  never  well  supplied,  suffered  grievously 
by  this  delay,  and  he  considered  himself  entitled  to  call  upon 
Hie  manager,  who  still  talked  of  acting  the  play,  to  advance 
him  forty  pounds  upon  a  note  of  the  younger  Newbery.     Gar- 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  535 

rick  readily  complied,  but  subsequently  suggested  certain  im- 
portant alterations  in  the  comedy  as  indispensable  to  its 
success;  these  were  indignantly  rejected  by  the  author,  but 
pertinaciously  insisted  on  by  the  manager.  Garrick  proposed 
to  leave  the  matter  to  the  arbitration  of  Whitehead,  the  lau- 
reate, who  officiated  as  his  "reader"  and  elbow  critic.  Gold- 
smith was  more  indignant  than  ever,  and  a  violent  dispute 
ensued,  which  was  only  calmed  by  the  interference  of  Burke 
and  Reynolds. 

Just  at  this  time  order  came  out  of  confusion  in  the  affairs  of 
Covent  Garden.  A  pique  having  risen  between  Colman  and 
Garrick,  in  the  course  of  their  joint  authorship  of  The  Clandes- 
tine Marriage,  the  former  had  become  manager  and  part  pro- 
prietor of  Covent  Garden,  and  was  preparing  to  open  a  power- 
ful competition  with  his  former  colleague.  On  hearing  of  this, 
Goldsmith  made  overtures  to  Colman;  who,  without  waiting 
to  consult  his  fellow  proprietors,  who  were  absent,  gave 
instantly  a  favorable  reply.  Goldsmith  felt  the  contrast  of  this 
warm,  encouraging  conduct,  to  the  chilling  delays  and  objec- 
tions of  Garrick.  He  at  once  abandoned  his  piece  to  the 
discretion  of  Colman.  "Dear  sir,"  says  he  in  a  letter  dated 
Temple  Garden  Court,  July  9th,  "I  am  very  much  obliged  to 
you  for  your  kind  partiality  in  my  favor,  and  your  tenderness 
in  shortening  the  interval  of  my  expectation.  That  the  play  is 
liable  to  many  objections  I  well  know,  but  I  am  happy  that 
it  is  in  hands  the  most  capable  in  the  world  of  removing 
them.  If  then,  dear  sir,  you  will  complete  your  favor  by  put- 
ting the  piece  into  such  a  state  as  it  may  be  acted,  or  of  direct- 
ing me  how  to  do  it,  I  shall  ever  retain  a  sense  of  your  goodness 
to  me.  And  indeed,  though  most  probably  this  be  the  last  I 
shall  ever  write,  yet  I  can't  help  feeling  a  secret  satisfaction 
that  poets  for  the  future  are  likely  to  have  a  protector  who  de- 
clines taking  advantage  of  their  dreadful  situation ;  and  scorns 
that  importance  which  may  be  acquired  by  trifling  with  their 
anxieties." 

The  next  day  Goldsmith  wrote  to  Garrick,  who  was  at  Lich- 
field, informing  him  of  his  having  transferred  his  piece  to 
Covent  Garden,  for  which  it  had  been  originally  written,  and 
by  the  patentee  of  which  it  was  claimed,  observing,  "  As  I 
found  you  had  very  great  difficulties  about  that  piece,  I  com- 
plied with  his  desire.  ...  I  am  extremely  sorry  that  you 
should  think  me  warm  at  our  last  meeting;  your  judgment 
certainly  ought  to  be  free,  especially  in  a  matter  which  must  in 


136  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

some  measure  concern  your  own  credit  and  interest.  I  assure 
you,  sir,  I  have  no  disposition  to  differ  with  you  on  this  or  any 
other  account,  but  am,  with  a  high  opinion  of  your  abilities, 
and  a  very  real  esteem,  Sir,  your  most  obedient  humble  ser- 
vant, Oliver  Goldsmith." 

In  his  reply,  Garrick  observed,  "I  was,  indeed,  much  hurt 
that  your  warmth  at  our  last  meeting  mistook  my  sincere  and 
friendly  attention  to  your  play  for  the  remains  of  a  former 
misunderstanding,  which  I  had  as  much  forgot  as  if  it  had 
never  existed.  What  I  said  to  you  at  my  own  house  I  now  re- 
peat, that  I  felt  more  pain  in  giving  my  sentiments  than  you 
possibly  would  in  receiving  them.  It  has  been  the  business, 
and  ever  will  be,  of  my  life  to  live  on  the  best  terms  with  men 
of  genius ;  and  I  know  that  Dr.  Goldsmith  will  have  no  reason 
to  change  his  previous  friendly  disposition  toward  me,  as  I 
shall  be  glad  of  every  future  opportunity  to  convince  him  how 
much  I  am  his  obedient  servant  and  weU- wisher,  D.  Garrick." 


CHAPTER    XXI. 


MORE  HACK  AUTHORSHIP — TOM  DAVIES  AND  THE  ROMAN  HISTORY 
— CANONBURY  CASTLE— POLITICAL  AUTHORSHIP — PECUNIARY 
TEMPTATION— DEATH  OF  NEWBERY  THE  ELDER. 

Though  Goldsmith's  comedy  was  now  in  train  to  be  per- 
formed, it  could  not  be  brought  out  before  Christmas ;  in  the 
meantime,  he  must  live.  Again,  therefore,  he  had  to  resort  to 
literary  jobs  for  his  daily  support.  These  obtained  for  him 
petty  occasional  sums,  the  largest  of  which  was  ten  pounds, 
from  the  elder  Newbery,  for  an  historical  compilation;  but 
this  scanty  rill  of  quasi  patronage,  so  sterile  in  its  products, 
was  likely  soon  to  cease;  Newbery  being  too  ill  to  attend  to 
business,  and  having  to  transfer  the  whole  management  of  it 
to  his  nephew. 

At  this  time  Tom  Davies,  the  sometime  Roscius,  sometime 
bibliopole,  stepped  forward  to  Goldsmith's  relief,  and  proposed 
that  he  should  undertake  an  easy  popular  history  of  Rome  in 
two  volumes.  An  arrangement  was  soon  made.  Goldsmith 
undertook  to  complete  it  in  two  years,  if  possible,  for  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty  guineas,  and  forthwith  set  about  his  task  with 


OLIVER  0  OLD  SMITH.  137 

cheerful  alacrity.  As  usual,  he  sought  a  rural  retreat  during 
the  summer  months,  where  he  might  alternate  his  literary 
labors  with  strolls  about  the  green  fields.  "Merry  Islington" 
was  again  his  resort,  but  he  now  aspired  to  better  quarters 
than  formerly,  and  engaged  the  chambers  occupied  occasion- 
ally by  Mr.  Newbery  in  Canonbury  House,  or  Castle  as  it  is 
popularly  called.  This  had  been  a  hunting  lodge  of  Queen 
Elizabeth,  in  whose  time  it  was  surrounded  by  parks  and  for- 
ests. In  Goldsmith's  day,  nothing  remained  of  it  but  an  old 
brick  tower;  it  was  still  in  the  country,  amid  rural  scenery, 
and  was  a  favorite  nestling-place  of  authors?  publishers,  and 
others  of  the  literary  order.*  A  number  of  these  he  had  for 
fellow  occupants  of  the  castle ;  and  they  formed  a  temporary 
club,  which  held  its  meetings  at  the  Crown  Tavern,  on  the 
Islington  lower  road ;  and  here  he  presided  in  his  own  genial 
style,  and  was  the  life  and  delight  of  the  company. 

The  writer  of  these  pages  visited  old  Canonbury  Castle  some 
years  since,  out  of  regard  to  the  memory  of  Goldsmith.  The 
apartment  was  still  shown  which  the  poet  had  inhabited,  con- 
sisting of  a  sitting-room  and  small  bedroom,  with  panelled 
wainscots  and  Gothic  windows.  The  quaintness  and  quietude 
of  the  place  were  stdl  attractive.  It  was  one  of  the  resorts  of 
citizens  on  their  Sunday  walks,  who  would  ascend  to  the  top 
of  the  tower  and  amuse  themselves  with  reconnoitring  the 
city  through  a  telescope.  Not  far  from  this  tower  were  the 
gardens  of  the  White  Conduit  House,  a  Cockney  Elysium, 
where  Goldsmith  used  to  figure  in  the  humbler  days  of  his  for- 
tune. In  the  first  edition  of  his  "  Essays"  he  speaks  of  a  stroll 
in  these  gardens,  where  he  at  that  time,  no  doubt,  thought  him- 
self in  perfectly  genteel  society.  After  his  rise  in  the  world, 
however,  he  became  too  knowing  to  speak  of  such  plebeian 
haunts.  In  a  new  edition  of  his  "Essays,"  therefore,  the 
White  Conduit  House  and  its  garden  disappears,  and  he  speaks 
of  "a  stroll  in  the  Park." 


*  See  on  the  distant  slope,  majestic  shows 
Old  Cauonbury's  tower,  an  ancient  pile 
To  various  fates  assigned;  and  where  by  turns 
Meanness  and  grandeur  have  alternate  reign'd; 
Thither,  in  latter  days,  hath  genius  fled 
From  yonder  city,  to  respire  and  die. 
There  the  sweet  bard  of  Auburn  sat.  and  tuned 
The  plaintive  moanings  of  his  village  dirge 
There  learned  Chambers  treasured  lore  for  men, 
And  Newbery  there  his  A  B  C's  for  babes. 


138  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

While  Goldsmith  was  literally  living  from  hand  to  mouth 
by  the  forced  drudgery  of  the  pen,  his  independence  of  spirit 
was  subjected  to  a  sore  pecuniary  trial.  It  was  the  opening  of 
Lord  North's  administration,  a  time  of  great  political  excite- 
ment. The  public  mind  was  agitated  by  the  question  of  Amer- 
ican taxation,  and  other  questions  of  like  irritating  tendency. 
Junius  and  Wilkes  and  other  powerful  writers  were  attacking 
the  administration  with  all  their  force ;  Grub  Street  was  stirred 
up  to  its  lowest  depths ;  inflammatory  talent  of  all  kinds  was 
in  full  activity,  and  the  kingdom  was  deluged  with  pamphlets, 
lampoons  and  libels  of  the  grossest  kinds.  The  ministry  were 
looking  anxiously  round  for  literary  support.  It  was  thought 
that  the  pen  of  Goldsmith  might  be  readily  enlisted.  His  hos- 
pitable friend  and  countryman,  Robert  Nugent,  politically 
known  as  Squire  Gawky,  had  come  out  strenuously  for  colo- 
nial taxation ;  had  been  selected  for  a  lordship  of  the  board  of 
trade,  and  raised  to  the  rank  of  Baron  Nugent  and  Viscount 
Clare.  His  example,  it  was  thought,  would  be  enough  of 
itself  to  bring  Goldsmith  into  the  ministerial  ranks,  and  then 
what  writer  of  the  day  was  proof  against  a  full  purse  or  a  pen- 
sion? Accordingly  one  Parson  Scott,  chaplain  to  Lord  Sand- 
wich, and  author  of  Ante  Sejanus  Panurge,  and  other  political 
libels  in  support  of  the  administration,  was  sent  to  negotiate 
with  the  poet,  who  at  this  time  was  returned  to  town.  Dr. 
Scott,  in  after  years,  when  his  political  subserviency  had  been 
rewarded  by  two  fat  crown  livings,  used  to  make  what  he  con- 
sidered a  good  story  out  of  this  embassy  to  the  poet.  ' '  I  found 
him,"  said  he,  "  in  a  miserable  suit  of  chambers  in  the  Temple. 
I  told  him  my  authority :  I  told  how  I  was  empowered  to  pay 
most  liberally  for  his  exertions ;  and,  would  you  believe  it !  he 
was  so  absurd  as  to  say,  '  I  can  earn  as  much  as  will  supply  my 
wants  without  writing  for  any  party ;  the  assistance  you  offer 
is  therefore  unnecessary  to  me ; ' — and  so  I  left  him  in  his  gar- 
ret!"  Who  does  not  admire  the  sturdy  independence  of  poor 
Goldsmith  toiling  in  his  garret  for  nine  guineas  the  job,  and 
smile  with  contempt  at  the  indignant  wonder  of  the  political 
divine,  albeit  his  subserviency  was  repaid  by  two  fat  crown 
livings? 

Not  long  after  this  occurrence,  Goldsmith's  old  friend, 
though  frugal-handed  employer,  Newbery,  of  picture-book 
renown,  closed  his  mortal  career.  The  poet  has  celebrated  him 
as  the  friend  of  all  mankind ;  he  certainly  lost  nothing  by  his 
friendship.     He  coined  the  brains  of  his  authors  in  the  times  of 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  139 

their  exigency,  and  made  them  pay  dear  for  the  plank  put  out 
to  keep  them  from  drowning.  It  is  not  likely  his  death  caused 
much  lamentation  among  the  scribbling  tribe;  we  may  ex- 
press decent  respect  for  the  memory  of  the  just,  but  we  shed 
tears  only  at  the  grave  of  the  generous. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

THEATRICAL  MANOEUVRING— THE  COMEDY  OF  "FALSE  DELICACY" 
— FIRST  PERFORMANCE  OF  "THE  GOOD-NATURED  MAN" — CON- 
DUCT OF  JOHNSON — CONDUCT  OF  THE  AUTHOR — INTERMEDDLING 
OF  THE  PRESS. 

The  comedy  of  The  Good-Natured  Man  was  doomed  to  ex- 
perience delays  and  difficulties  to  the  very  last.  Garrick,  not- 
withstanding his  professions,  had  still  a  lurking  grudge  against 
the  author,  and  tasked  his  managerial  arts  to  thwart  him  in  his 
theatrical  enterprise.  For  this  purpose  he  undertook  to  build 
up  Hugh  Kelly,  Goldsmith's  boon  companion  of  the  Wednes- 
day Club,  as  a  kind  of  rival.  Kelly  had  written  a  comedy 
called  False  Delicacy,  in  which  were  embodied  all  the  meretri- 
cious qualities  of  the  sentimental  school.  Garrick,  though  he 
had  decried  that  school,  and  had  brought  out  his  comedy  of 
The  Clandestine  Marriage  in  opposition  to  it,  now  lauded 
False  Delicacy  to  the  skies,  and  prepared  to  bring  it  out  at 
Drury  Lane  with  all  possible  stage  effect.  He  even  went  so 
far  as  to  write  a  prologue  and  epilogue  for  it,  and  to  touch  up 
some  parts  of  the  dialogue.  He  had  become  reconciled  to  his 
former  colleague,  Colman,  and  it  is  intimated  that  one  condi- 
tion in  the  treaty  of  peace  between  these  potentates  of  the 
realms  of  pasteboard  (equally  prone  to  play  into  each  other's 
hands  with  the  confederate  potentates  on  the  great  theatre  of 
life)  was,  that  Goldsmith's  play  should  be  kept  back  until 
Kelly's  had  been  brought  forward. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  poor  author,  little  dreaming  of  the 
deleterious  influence  at  work  behind  the  scenes,  saw  the  ap- 
pointed time  arrive  and  pass  by  without  the  performance  of 
his  play ;  while  False  Delicacy  was  brought  out  at  Drury  Lane 
(January  23,  1768)  with  all  the  trickery  of  managerial  manage- 
ment.    Houses  were  packed  to  applaud  it  to  *the  echo :   the 


140  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

newspapers  vied  with  each  other  in  their  venal  praises,  and 
night  after  night  seemed  to  give  it  a  fresh  triumph. 

Vrhile  False  Delicacy  was  thus  borne  on  the  full  tide  of  fic- 
titious prosperity.  The  Good-Xatured  Man  was  creeping  through 
the  last  rehearsals  at  Covent  Garden.  The  success  of  the  rival 
piece  threw  a  damp  upon  author,  manager,  and  actors.  Gold- 
smith went  about  with  a  face  full  of  anxiety ;  Colman's  hopes 
in  the  piece  declined  at  each  rehearsal ;  as  to  his  fellow  pro- 
prietors, they  declared  they  had  never  entertained  any.  All 
the  actors  were  discontented  with  their  parts,  excepting  Xed 
Shuter,  an  excellent  low  comedian,  and  a  pretty  actress  named 
I  3s  YValford:  both  of  whom  the  poor  author  ever  afterward 
held  in  grateful  recollection. 

Johnson.  Goldsmith's  growling  monitor  and  unsparing  casti- 
gator  in  times  of  heedless  levity,  stood  by  him  at  present  with 
that  protecting  kindness  with  which  he  ever  befriended  him  in 
time  of  need.  He  attended  the  rehearsals ;  he  furnished  the 
prologue  according  to  promise;  he  pish'd  and  pshaw'd  at  any 
doubts  and  fears  on  the  part  of  the  author,  but  gave  him  sound 
counsel,  and  held  him  up  with  a  steadfast  and  manly  hand. 
Inspirited  by  his  sympathy.  Goldsmith  plucked  up  new  heart, 
and  arrayed  himself  for  the  grand  trial  with  unusual  care. 
Ever  since  his  elevation  into  the  polite  world,  he  had  improved 
in  his  wardrobe  and  toilet.  Johnson  could  no  longer  accuse 
him  of  being  shabby  in  his  appearance ;  he  rather  went  to  the 
other  extreme.  On  the  present  occasion  there  is  an  entry  in 
the  books  of  his  tailor.  Mr.  William  Filby.  of  a  suit  of 
• '  Tyrian  bloom,  satin  grain,  and  garter  blue  silk  breeches,  £8 
2s.  7c/."  Thus  magnificently  attired,  he  attended  the  theatre 
and  watched  the  reception  of  the  play,  and  the  effect  of  each 
individual  scene,  with  that  vicissitude  of  feeling  incident  to 
his  mercurial  nature. 

Johnson's  prologue  was  solemn  in  itself,  and  being  delivered 
by  Brinsley  in  lugubrious  tones  suited  to  the  ghost  in  Hamlet, 
seemed  to  throw  a  portentous  gloom  on  the  audience.  Some 
of  the  scenes  met  with  great  applause,  and  at  such  times  Gold- 
smith was  highly  elated ;  others  went  off  coldly,  or  there  were 
slight  tokens  of  disapprobation,  and  then  his  spirits  would  sink. 
The  fourth  act  saved  the  piece ;  for  Shuter.  who  had  the  main 
comic  character  of  Croaker,  was-so  varied  and  ludicrous  in  his 
execution  of  the  scene  in  which  he  reads  an  incendiary  letter, 
that  he  drew  down  thunders  of  applause.  On  his  coming  be- 
d  the  scenes,  Goldsmith  greeted  him  with  an  overflowing 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  141 

heart ;  declaring  that  he  exceeded  his  own  idea  of  the  charac- 
ter, and  made  it  almost  as  new  to  him  as  to  any  of  the  audi- 
ence. 

On  the  whole,  however,  both  the  author  and  his  friends  were 
disappointed  at  the  reception  of  the  piece,  and  considered  it  a 
failure.  Poor  Goldsmith  left  the  theatre  with  his  towering 
hopes  completely  cut  down.  He  endeavored  to  hide  his  morti- 
fication, and  even  to  assume  an  air  of  unconcern  while  among 
his  associates ;  but,  the  moment  he  was  alone  with  Dr.  John- 
son, in  whose  rough  but  magnanimous  nature  he  reposed  un- 
limited confidence,  he  threw  off  all  restraint  and  gave  way  to 
an  almost  childlike  burst  of  grief.  Johnson,  who  had  shown, 
no  want  of  sympathy  at  the  proper  time,  saw  nothing  in  the 
partial  disappointment  of-  overrated  expectations  to  warrant 
such  ungoverned  emotions,  and  rebuked  him  sternly  for  what 
he  termed  a  silly  affectation,  saying  that  ' '  No  man  should  be 
expected  to  sympathize  with  the  sorrows  of  vanity. " 

When  Goldsmith  had  recovered  from  the  blow,  he,  with  his 
usual  unreserve,  made  his  past  distress  a  subject  of  amusement 
to  his  friends.  Dining,  one  day,  in  company  with  Dr.  John- 
son, at  the  chaplain's  table  at  St.  James's  Palace,  he  enter- 
tained the  company  with  a  particular  and  comic  account  of  all 
his  feelings  on  the  night  of  representation,  and  bis  despair  when 
the  piece  was  hissed.  How  he  went,  he  said,  to  the  Literary 
Club ;  chatted  gayly,  as  if  nothing  had  gone  amiss ;  and,  to  give 
a  greater  idea  of  his  unconcern,  sang  his  favorite  song  about 
an  old  woman  tossed  in  a  blanket  seventeen  times  as  high  as 
the  moon.  ..."  All  this  while,"  added  he,  "  I  was  suffering 
horrid  tortures,  and,  had  I  put  a  bit  in  my  mouth,  I  verily  be- 
lieve it  would  have  strangled  me  on  the  spot,  I  was  so  exces- 
sively ill :  but  I  made  more  noise  than  usual  to  cover  all  that ; 
so  they  never  perceived  my  not  eating,  nor  suspected  the  an- 
guish of  my  heart ;  but,  when  all  were  gone  except  Johnson 
here,  1  burst  out  a-crying,  and  even  swore  that  I  would  never 
write  again." 

Dr.  Johnson  sat  in  amaze  at  the  odd  frankness  and  childlike 
self -accusation  of  poor  Goldsmith.  When  the  latter  had  come 
to  a  pause,  "All  this,  doctor, "  said  he  dryly,  "I  thought  had 
been  a  secret  between  you  and  me,  and  I  am  sure  I  would  not 
have  said  anything  about  it  for  the  world."  But  Goldsmith 
had  no  secrets:  his  follies,  his  weaknesses,  his  errors  were  all 
thrown  to  the  surface ;  his  heart  was  really  too  guileless  and 
innocent  to  seek  mystery  and  concealment.     It  is  too  often  the 


142  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

false,  designing  man  that  is  guarded  in  his  conduct  and  neYei* 
offends  proprieties. 

It  is  singular,  however,  that  Goldsmith,  who  thus  in  conver- 
sation could  keep  nothing  to  himself,  should  be  the  author  of  a 
maxim  which  would  inculcate  the  most  thorough  dissimula- 
tion. "Men  of  the  world,"  says  he,  in  one  of  his  papers  of  the 
Bee,  "maintain  that  the  true  end  of  speech  is  not  so  much  to 
express  our  wants  as  to  conceal  them."  How  often  is  this 
quoted  as  one  of  the  subtle  remarks  of  the  fine-witted  Talley- 
rand ! 

The  Good- Nat ured  Man  was  performed  for  ten  nights  in 
succession;  the  third,  sixth,  and  ninth  nights  were  for  the 
author's  benefit;  the  fifth  night  it  was  commanded  by  their 
majesties;  after  this  it  was  played  occasionally,  but  rarely, 
having  always  pleased  more  in  the  closet  than  on  the  stage. 

As  to  Kelly's  comedy,  Johnson  pronounced  it  entirely  devoid 
of  character,  and  it  has  long  since  passed  into  oblivion.  Yet 
it  is  an  instance  how  an  inferior  production,  by  dint  of  puffing 
and  trumpeting,  may  be  kept  up  for  a  time  on  the  surface  of 
popular  opinion,  or  rather  of  popular  talk.  What  had  been 
done  for  False  Delicacy  on  the  stage  was  continued  by  the 
press.  The  booksellers  vied  with  the  manager  in  launching  it 
upon  tbe  town.  They  announced  that  the  first  impression  of 
three  thousand  copies  was  exhausted  before  two  o'clock  on  the 
day  of  publication;  four  editions,  amounting  to  ten  thousand 
copies,  were  sold  in  the  course  of  the  season ;  a  public  break- 
fast was  given  to  KeUy  at  the  Chapter  Coffee  House,  and  a 
piece  of  plate  presented  to  him  by  the  publishers.  The  com- 
parative merits  of  the  two  plays  were  continually  subjects  of 
discussion  in  green-rooms,  coffee-houses,  and  other  places 
where  theatrical  questions  were  discussed. 

Goldsmith's  old  enemy,  Kenrick,  that  "viper  of  the  press," 
endeavored  on  this  as  on  many  other  occasions  to  detract  from 
his  well-earned  fame;  the  poet  was  excessively  sensitive  to 
these  attacks,  and  had  not  the  art  and  self-command  to  conceal 
his  feelings. 

Some  scribblers  on  the  other  side  insinuated  that  Kelly  had 
seen  the  manuscript  of  Goldsmith's  play,  while  in  the  hands  of 
Garrick  or  elsewhere,  and  had  borrowed  some  of  the  situations 
and  sentiments.  Some  of  the  wags  of  the  day  took  a  mis- 
chievous pleasure  in  stirring  up  a  feud  between  the  two  authors. 
Goldsmith  became  nettled,  though  he  could  scarcely  be  deemed 
jealous  of  one  so  far  his  inferior.     He  spoke  disparagingly. 


OLIVER   OOLT)SMITH.  143 

though  no  doubt  sincerely,  of  Kelly's  play:  the  latter  retorted. 
Still,  when  they  met  one  day  behind  the  scenes  of  Covent 
Garden,  Goldsmith,  with  his  customary  urbanity,  congratu- 
lated Kelly  on  his  success.  "If  I  thought  you  sincere,  Mr. 
Goldsmith,''  replied  the  other,  abruptly,  "I  should  thank  you." 
Goldsmith  was  not  a  man  to  harbor  spleen  or  ill-will,  and  soon 
laughed  at  this  unworthy  rivalship:  but  the  jealousy  and  envy 
awakened  in  Kelly's  mind  long  continued.  He  is  even  accused 
of  having  given  vent  to  his  hostility  by  anonymous  attacks  in 
the  newspapers,  the  basest  resource  of  dastardly  and  malig- 
nant spirits ;  but  of  this  there  is  no  positive  proof. 


CHAPTER   XXin. 


BURNING  THE  CANDLE  AT  BOTH  ENDS — FINE  APARTMENTS — FINE 
FURNITURE  —  FINE  CLOTHES  —  FINE  ACQUAINTANCES  —  SHOE- 
MAKER'S HOLIDAY  AND  JOLLY  PIGEON  ASSOCIATES — PETER 
BARLOW,  GLOVER,  AND  THE  HAMPSTEAD  HOAX — POOR  FRIENDS 
AMONG  GREAT  ACQUAINTANCES. 

The  profits  resulting  from  The  Good-Natured  Mom  were  be- 
yond any  that  Goldsmith  had  yet  derived  from  his  works.  He 
netted  about  four  hundred  pounds  from  the  theatre,  and  one 
hundred  pounds  from  his  publisher. 

Five  hundred  pounds!  and  all  at  one  miraculous  draught! 
It  appeared  to  nun  wealth  inexhaustible.  It  at  once  opened  his 
heart  and  hand,  and  led  him  into  all  kinds  of  extravagance. 
The  first  symptom  was  ten  guineas  sent  to  Shuter  for  a  box 
ticket  for  his  benefit,  when  The  Good-Natured  Man  was  to  be 
performed.  The  next  was  an  entire  change  in  his  domicile. 
The  shabby  lodgings  with  Jeffs  the  butler,  in  which  he  had 
been  worried  by  Johnson's  scrutiny,  were  now  exchanged  for 
chambers  more  becoming  a  man  of  his  ample  fortune.  The 
apartments  consisted  of  three  rooms  on  the  second  floor  of  No. 
2  Brick  Court,  Middle  Temple,  on  the  right  hand  ascending  the 
staircase,  and  overlooked  the  umbrageous  walks  of  the  Temple 
garden.  The  lease  he  purchased  for  £400,  and  then  went  on  to 
furnish  his  rooms  with  mahogany  sofas,  card-tables,  and  book- 
cases ;  with  curtains,  mirrors,  and  Wilton  carpets.  His  awk- 
ward little  person  was  also  furnished  out  in  a  style  befitting 
his  apartment;  for,  in  addition  to  his  suit  of  " Tyrian  bloom, 


144  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH 

satin  grain,"  we  find  another  charged  about  this  time,  in  the 
books  of  Mr.  Filby,  in  no  less  gorgeous  terms,  being  "lined 
with  silk  and  furnished  with  gold  buttons."  Thus  lodged  and 
thus  arrayed,  he  invited  the  visits  of  his  most  aristocratic  ac- 
quaintances, and  no  longer  quailed  beneath  the  courtly  eye  of 
Beauclerc.  He  gave  dinners  to  Johnson,  Eeynolds,  Percy, 
Bickerstaff,  and  other  friends  of  note;  and  supper  parties  to 
young  folks  of  both  sexes.  These  last  were  preceded  by  round 
games  of  cards,  at  which  there  was  more  laughter  than  skill, 
and  in  which  the  sport  was  to  cheat  each  other ;  or  by  romping 
games  of  forfeits  and  blind-man's  buff,  at  which  he  enacted 
the  lord  of  misrule.  Blackstone,  whose  chambers  were  imme- 
diately below,  and  who  was  studiously  occupied  on  his  "Com- 
mentaries," used  to  complain  of  the  racket  made  overhead  by 
his  revelling  neighbor. 

Sometimes  Goldsmith  would  make  up  a  rural  party,  com- 
posed of  four  or  five  of  his  "jolly  pigeon"  friends,  to  enjoy 
what  he  humorously  called  a  "shoemaker's  holiday."  These 
would  assemble  at.  his  chambers  in  the  morning,  to  partake  of 
a  plentiful  and  rather  expensive  breakfast;  the  remains  of 
which,  with  his  customary  benevolence,  he  generally  gave  to 
some  poor  woman  in  attendance.  The  repast  ended,  the  party 
would  set  out  on  foot,  in  high  spirits,  making  extensive  ram- 
bles by  foot-paths  and  green  lanes  to  Blackheath,  Wandsworth, 
Chelsea,  Hampton  Court,  Highgate,  or  some  other  pleasant 
resort,  within  a  few  miles  of  London.  A  simple  but  gay  and 
heartily  relished  dinner,  at  a  country  inn,  crowned  the  excur- 
sion. In  the  evening  they  strolled  back  to  town,  all  the  better 
in  health  and  spirits  for  a  day  spent  in  rural  and  social  enjoy- 
ment. Occasionally,  when  extravagantly  inclined,  they  ad- 
journed from  dinner  to  drink  tea  at  the  White  Conduit  House; 
and,  now  and  then,  concluded  their  festive  day  by  supping  at 
the  Grecian  or  Temple  Exchange  Coffee  Houses,  or  at  the 
Globe  Tavern,  in  Fleet  Street.  The  whole  expenses  of  the  day 
never  exceeded  a  crown,  and  were  oftener  from  three  and  six- 
pence to  four  shillings ;  for  the  best  part  of  their  entertainment, 
sweet  air  and  rural  scenes,  excellent  exercise  and  joyous  con- 
versation, cost  nothing. 

One  of  Goldsmith's  humble  companions,  on  these  excursions, 
was  his  occasional  amanuensis,  Peter  Barlow,  whose  quaint 
peculiarities  afforded  much  amusement  to  the  company.  Peter 
was  poor  but  punctilious,  squaring  his  expenses  according  to 
his  means.     He  always  wore  the  same  garb ;  fixed  his  regular 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  145 

expenditure  for  dinner  at  a  trifling  sum,  which,  if  left  to  him- 
self, he  never  exceeded,  but  which  he  always  insisted  on  paying. 
His  oddities  always  made  him  a  welcome  companion  on  the 
"shoemaker's  holidays."  The  dinner,  on  these  occasions,  gem 
erally  exceeded  considerably  his  tariff ;  he  put  down,  however, 
no  more  than  his  regular  sum,  and  Goldsmith  made  up  the 
difference. 

Another  of  these  hangers-on,  for  whom,  on  such  occasions, 
he  was  content  to  "pay  the  shot,  "was  his  countryman,  Glover, 
of  whom  mention  has  already  been  made,  as  one  of  the  wags 
and  sponges  of  the  Globe  and  Devil  taverns,  and  a  prime  mimic 
at  the  Wednesday  Club. 

This  vagabond  genius  has  bequeathed  us  a  whimsical  story 
of  one  of  his  practical  jokes  upon  Goldsmith,  in  the  course  of  a 
rural  excursion  in  the  vicinity  of  London.  They  had  dined  at 
an  inn  on  Hampstead  Heights,  and  were  descending  the  hill, 
when,  in  passing  a  cottage,  they  saw  through  the  open  window 
a  party  at  tea.  Goldsmith,  who  was  fatigued,  cast  a  wistful 
glance  at  the  cheerful  tea-table.  "  How  I  should  like  to  be  of 
that  party,"  exclaimed  he.  "Nothing  more  easy,"  replied 
Glover,  "allow  me  to  introduce  you."  So  saying,  he  entered 
the  house  with  an  air  of  the  most  perfect  familiarity,  though 
an  utter  stranger,  and  was  followed  by  the  unsuspecting  Gold- 
smith, who  supposed,  of  course,  that  he  was  a  friend  of  the 
family.  The  owner  of  the  house  rose  on  the  entrance  of  the 
strangers.  The  undaunted  Glover  shook  hands  with  him  in 
the  most  cordial  manner  possible,  fixed  his  eye  on  one  of  the 
company  who  had  a  peculiarly  good-natured  physiognomy, 
muttered  something  like  a  recognition,  and  forthwith  launched 
into  an  amusing  story,  invented  at  the  moment,  of  something 
which  he  pretended  had  occurred  upon  the  road.  The  host 
supposed  the  new-comers  were  friends  of  his  guests ;  the  guests 
that  they  were  friends  of  the  host.  Glover  did  not  give  them 
time  to  find  out  the  truth.  He  followed  one  droll  story  with 
another;  brought  his  powers  of  mimicry  into  play,  and  kept 
the  company  in  a  roar.  Tea  was  offered  and  accepted;  an  hour 
went  off  in  the  most  sociable  maimer  imaginable,  at  the  end  of 
which  Glover  bowed  himself  and  his  companion  out  of  the 
house  with  many  facetious  last  words,  leaving  the  host  and 
his  company  to  compare  notes,  and  to  find  out  what  an  im- 
pudent intrusion  they  had  experienced. 

Nothing  could  exceed  the  dismay  and  vexation  of  Goldsmith 
when  triumphantly  told  by  Glover  that  it  was  all  a  hoax,  and 


146  OUTER   GOLDSMITH 

that  he  did  not  kn  -    _  _  I  i  tfael)  EGs  first 

tarn  instantly  an  i  -ate  himself  from  all 

partier  in  the  jest :  but  a  few  words  from  his  free  and 

.--uaded  him.      "Doe:  id  he.  coolly. 

•  •  we  are  -unknown ;  yon  quite  .  h  as  I;  If  yon  return  and 

.  he  in  the  n  -  I  -:__   n    w;  nay, 

I  rem-.  their  offices  the  face  of 

-  t  in  the  corner  as  if  he  was  trea- 

_  up  my  ■-    . .  -   -  shall  be  sun 

:  let  us  th-r-   :  msel." 

11  ver.  with  2 

drama:  ating  and  exaggei     ing  the  conversation. 

and  mimicking,  in  In."..         -  -  '  arrassment.  surprise, 

ana  --nation    I 

-  aying  that  a  wheel  cannot  run  in  two  ruts :  nor 
i  intimate  M.-mith  some- 

times foimd  his  old  friends  of  the  "jolly:   _     .  Turning 

up  rather  i  rdly  when  he  was  in  company  with  his  new 

:•  quaint.        -      EL    gave  a  whimsical  account  of 

gay  apartmen:  - 
who  may  have  been  a  wo  at  his 

bersin  (-.  Lrbor  Corn  Eow  do  you  think 

he  served  me;*"  said  he  to  a  friend.  staying 

he  came  one  evening  half 

drunk,  as  I  was  :f  wine  vi- 

and      neral Og    (  elf  down,  with  m   - : 

e  inquired  after  my  health  and  literary 

d  the  most  friendly  footing.     I  was 

at  f.  much  ashamed  of  ever  having  known  such  a  fellow, 

that  I  stii  TLtment.  and  drew  him  ini  nversation 

s  I  knew  he  could  talk  1  hi  which,  to  do 

him  --.  he  acquitted  himself"-  ratably;  when  all  of 

_.  he  pulled  two  pa^ 
nted  to  m: 
ng.  "  Here,  my  dear  friend,  is  a  quarter  of  a  pound 
of  tea.  and  a  half  pound  of  sugar.  I  have  brought  you:  for 
gh  it  i-  not  in  :  -r  at  present  to  jjay  you  the  two 

guineas  you  b     e  lent  me.  you.  nor  any  man  el 

shall  ever  have  it  to  say  that  I  want  gratitude. "    This.  '*  added 
Isinith.  "was  too  much.     I  could  no  longer  keep  in  my 
-  - .  hut  desired  him  to  turn  out  of  my  chambers  directly; 
which  fly  did.  taking  up  his  tea  and  sugar ;  and  I 

never  saw  him  afterward.*' 


OLIVER   GOLx  147 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

REDUCED    AGAIN    TO    BOOK-B1/  —RURAL    RETREAT    AT   ST 

MAKERS    PARADISE  — DEATH    OW    HENRY    •  ITH — TRIBl 

TO  fflS  MEMORY   IN    "THE  DESERTED   VILLAGE."' 

Tee  heedless  expenses  of  Goldsmith,  as  may  easily  be  sup- 
posed, soon  brought  hhn  to  I        ad  of  his  "prize  mon- 
when  his  purse  gave  out  he  drew  upon  futurj  b1    .:iing 

advance  -  from  his  be     -  ends  in 

confident  hope  of  soon  turning  up  another  trump.     The  di 
which  he  thus  thoughtlessly  incurred  in  consequence  of  a 
transient  gleam  of  prosperity  embarrassed  him  for  the  rec- 
tus life:  so  that  the  success  of  the  Good-Natured    '        maybe 

said  to  have  been  ruin  as  to  him. 
He  was  soon  obliged  to  restuhe  his  old  craft  of  book-building, 

and  set  about  his  History  of  Borne,  undertaken  for  Da  vies. 

It  was  his  custom,  as  we  shown,  during  the  summer 

time,  when  pressed  by  a  mv  :y  of  literary  jobs,  or  urged 

to  the  accomplishment  of  some  particular  task,  to  take  eountry 
lodgmgs  a  few  miles  from  town,  generally  on  the  Harrow  or 
Edgeware  roads,  and  bury  himself  there  for  weeks  and  months 
together.  Sometimes  he  would  remain  closely  occupied  in  his 
room,  at  other  times  he  would  stroll  out  along  the  lanes  and 
hedge-rows,  and  taking  out  paper  and  pencil,  note  down 
thoughts  to  be  expanded  and  count  -  home.     His  summer 

retreat  for  the  presenl  L76£    was  a  little  c         -    with  a 

garden,  pleasantly  situated  about  eight  miles  from  town  on  the 
Edgeware  road.  He  took  it  in  conjunction  with  a  Mr.  Edmund 
Botts  '  trrister  and  man  of  letters,  his  neighbor  in  the  T 
pie.  having  rooms  immediately  opposite  him  on  the  same  floor, 
They  had  become  cordial  intimates,  and  Botts  was  one  of  tl 
with  whom  Goldsmith  how  and  then  took  the  friendly  but 
icious  liberty  of  borrow' 

The  cottage  which  they  had  hired  belonged  to  a  rich  shoe- 
maker of  Piccadillv.  who  had  embellished  his  little  domain  of 
half  an  acre  with  statues  and  jets  I  he  decora' 

landscape  gardeni   -  hieh  Goldsmith  gave 

the  name   of  The  Shoemaker's  Paradise.     As    his  fellow- 
occupant.  Mr.  Botts.  drove  a  gig.  he  sometimes,  in  an  interval 


148  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

of  literary  labor,  accompanied  him  to  town,  partook  of  a  social 
dinner  there,  and  returned  with  him  in  the  evening.  On  one 
occasion,  when  they  had  probably  lingered  too  long  at  the 
table,  they  came  near  breaking  their  necks  on  their  way 
homeward  by  driving  against  a  post  on  the  sidewalk,  while 
Botts  was  proving  by  the  force  of  legal  eloquence  that  they 
were  in  the  very  middle  of  the  broad  Edgeware  road. 

In  the  course  of  this  summer  Goldsmith's  career  of  gay- 
ety  was  suddenly  brought  to  a  pause  by  intelligence  of  the 
death  of  his  brother  Henry,  then  but  forty-five  years  of  age. 
He  had  led  a  quiet  and  blameless  life  amid  the  scenes  of  his 
youth,  fulfilling  the  duties  of  village  pastor  with  unaffected 
piety;  conducting  the  school  at  Lissoy  with  a  degree  of  in- 
dustry and  ability  that  gave  it  celebrity,  and  acquitting  him- 
self in  all  the  duties  of  life  with  undeviating  rectitude  and  the 
mildest  benevolence.  How  truly  Goldsmith  loved  and  vener- 
ated him  is  evident  in  all  his  letters  and  throughout  his  works ; 
in  which  his  brother  continually  forms  his  model  for  an  ex- 
emplification of  all  the  most  endearing  of  the  Christian 
virtues ;  yet  his  affection  at  his  death  was  embittered  by  the 
fear  that  he  died  with  some  doubt  upon  his  mind  of  the 
warmth  of  his  affection.  Goldsmith  had  been  urged  by  his 
friends  in  Ireland,  since  his  elevation  in  the  world,  to  use  his 
influence  with  the  great,  which  they  supposed  to  be  all  power- 
ful, in  favor  of  Henry,  to  obtain  for  him  church  preferment. 
He  did  exert  himself  as  far  as  his  diffident  nature  would 
permit,  but  without  success;  we  have  seen  that,  in  the  case 
of  the  Earl  of  Northumberland,  when,  as  Lord  Lieutenant  of 
Ireland,  that  nobleman  proffered  him  his  patronage,  he  asked 
nothing  for  himself,  but  only  spoke  on  behalf  of  his  brother. 
Still  some  of  his  friends,  ignorant  of  what  he  had  done  and  of 
how  little  he  was  able  to  do,  accused  him  of  negligence.  It  is 
not  likely,  however,  that  his  amiable  and  estimable  brother 
joined  in  the  accusation. 

To  the  tender  and  melancholy  recollections  of  his  early  days 
awakened  by  the  death  of  this  loved  companion  of  his  child- 
hood, we  may  attribute  some  of  the  most  heartfelt  passages  in 
his  "  Deserted  Village."  Much  of  that  poem,  we  are  told,  was 
composed  this  summer,  in  the  course  of  solitary  strolls  about 
the  green  lanes  and  beautifully  ratal  scenes  of  the  neighbor- 
hood ;  and  thus  much  of  the  softness  and  sweetness  of  English 
landscape  became  blended  with  the  ruder  features  of  Lissoy. 
It  was  in  these  lonely  and  subdued  moments,  when  tender 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  149 

regret  was  half  mingled  with  self-upbraiding,  that  he  poured 
forth  that  homage  of  the  heart,  rendered  as  it  were  at  tho 
grave  of  his  brother.  The  picture  of  the  village  pastor  in  this 
poem,  which,  we  have  already  hinted,  was  taken  in  part  from 
the  character  of  his  father,  embodied  likewise  the  recollections 
of  his  brother  Henry ;  for  the  natures  of  the  father  and  son 
seem  to  have  been  identical.  In  the  following  lines,  however, 
Goldsmith  evidently  contrasted  the  quiet,  settled  life  of  his 
brother,  passed  at  home  in  the  benevolent  exercise  of  the 
Christian  duties,  with  his  own  restless,  vagrant  career : 

"  Remote  from  towns  lie  ran  his  godly  race, 
Nor  e'er  had  changed,  nor  wished  to  change  his  place." 

To  us  the  whole  character  seems  traced  as  it  were  in  an  expia- 
tory spirit ;  as  if,  conscious  of  his  own  wandering  restlessness, 
he  sought  to  humble  himself  at  the  shrine  of  excellence  which 
he  had  not  been  able  to  practise : 

"  At  church,  with  meek  and  unaffected  grace, 
His  looks  adorn'd  the  venerable  place; 
Truth  from  his  lips  prevail'd  with  double  sway, 
And  fools,  who  came  to  scoff,  remain  "d  to  pray. 
The  service  past,  around  the  pious  man, 
With  steady  zeal,  each  honest  rustic  ran; 
Even  children  follow'd,  with  endearing  wile, 
And  pluck'd  his  gown,  to  share  the  good  man's  smile: 
His  ready  smile  a  parent's  warmth  express'd. 
Their  welfare  pleas'd  him,  and  their  cares  distress'd; 
To  them  his  heart,  his  love,  his  griefs  were  given, 
But  all  his  serious  thoughts  had  rest  in  heaven. 
******  *** 

And  as  a  bird  each  fond  endearment  tries 
To  tempt  its  new-fledged  offspring  to  the  skies, 
He  tried  each  art,  reprov'd  each  dull  delay, 
Allur'd  to  brighter  worlds,  and  led  the  way. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

DINNER  AT  BICKERSTAFF'S— HIFFERNAN  AND  HIS  LMPECUNIOSITY — 
KENRICK'S  EPIGRAM  —  JOHNSON'S  CONSOLATION  —  GOLDSMITH'S 
TOILET — THE  BLOOM-COLORED  COAT — NEW  ACQUAINTANCES— 
THE  HORNECKS — A  TOUCH  OF  POETRY  AND  PASSION— THE 
JESSAMY  BRIDE. 

In  October  Goldsmith  returned  to  town  and  resumed  his 
usual  haunts.     We  hear  of  him  at  a  dinner  given  by  his 


150  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

countryman,  Isaac  Bickerstaff,  author  of  "  Love  in  a  Village/' 
'"Lionel  and  Clarissa,"  and  other  successful  dramatic  pieces. 
The  dinner  was  to  be  followed  by  the  reading  by  Bickerstaff 
of  a  new  play.  Among  the  guests  was  one  Paul  Hiffernan, 
likewise  an  Irishman;  somewhat  idle  and  intemperate;  who 
lived  nobody  knew  how  nor  where,  sponging  wherever  he  had 
a  chance,  and  often  of  course  upon  Goldsmith,  who  was  ever 
the  vagabond's  friend,  or  rather  victim.  Hiffernan  was  some- 
thing of  a  physician,  and  elevated  the  emptiness  of  his  purse 
into  the  dignity  of  a  disease,  which  he  termed  impecunioMty, 
and  against  which  he  claimed  a  right  to  call  for  relief  from 
the  healthier  purses  of  his  friends.  He  was  a  scribbler  for  the 
newspapers,  and  latterly  a  dramatic  critic,  winch  had  proba- 
bly gained  him  an  invitation  to  the  dinner  and  reading.  The 
wine  and  wassail,  however,  befogged  his  senses.  Scarce  had 
the  author  got  into  the  second  act  ot  his  play,  when  Hiffernan 
began  to  nod,  and  at  length  snored  outright.  Bickerstaff  was 
embarrassed,  but  continued  to  read  in  a  more  elevated  tone. 
The  louder  he  read,  the  louder  Hiffernan  snored;  until  the 
author  came  to  a  pause.  "Never  mind  the  brute,  Bick,  but 
go  on,"  cried  Goldsmith.  "  He  would  have  served  Homer  just 
so  if  he  were  here  and  reading  his  own  works." 

Kenrick,  Goldsmith's  old  enemy,  travestied  this  anecdote  in 
the  following  lines,  pretending  that  the  poet  had  compared  his 
countryman  Bickerstaff  to  Homer. 

"  What  are  your  Bretons,  Romans,  Grecians, 
Compared  with  thorough-bred  Milesians! 
Step  into  Griffin's  shop,  he'll  tell  ye 
Of  Goldsmith,  Bickerstaff,  and  Kelly    .    .    . 
And,  take  one  Irish  evidence  for  t'other. 
E'en  Homer's  self  is  but  their  foster  brother." 

Johnson  was  a  rough  consoler  to  a  man  when  wincing  under 
an  attack  of  this  kind.  "Never  mind,  sir,"  said  he  to  Gold- 
smith, when  he  saw  that  he  felt  the  sting.  "A  man  whose 
business  it  is  to  be  talked  of  is  much  helped  by  being  attacked. 
Fame,  sir,  is  a  shuttlecock ;  if  it  be  struck  only  at  one  end  of 
the  room,  it  will  soon  fall  to  the  ground ;  to  keep  it  up,  it  must 
be  struck  at  both  ends." 

Bickerstaff,  at  the  time  of  which  we  are  speaking,  was  in  high 

vogue,  the  associate  of  the  first  Avits  of  the  day ;  a  few  years 

afterward  ho  was  obliged  to  fly""the  country  to  escape  the 

punishment  of  an  infamous  crime.     Johnson  expressed  great 

•lishment  at  hearing  the  offence  for  which  he  had  "fled. 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH  151 

"  Why,  sir,"  said  Thrale ;  "lie  had  long  been  a  suspected  man."1 
Perhaps  there  was  a  knowing  look  on  the  part  of  the  eminent 
brewer,  which  provoked  a  somewhat  contemptuous  reply. 
"By  those  who  look  close  to  the  ground,"  said  Johnson,  "  dirt 
will  sometimes  he  seen ;  I  hope  I  see  things  from  a  greater  dis- 
tance." 

We  have  already  noticed  the  improvement,  or  rather  the 
increased  expense,  of  Goldsmith's  wardrobe  since  Ms  eleva- 
tion into  polite  society.  "He  was  fond,"  says  one  of  his  con- 
temporaries, "of  exhibiting  his  muscular  little  person  in  the 
gayest  apparel  of  the  day,  to  which  was  added  a  bag-wig  and 
sword."  Thus  arrayed,  he  used  to  figure  about  in  the  sunshine 
in  the  Temple  Gardens,  much  to  his  own  satisfaction,  but  to 
the  amusement  of  his  acquaintances. 

Boswell,  in  his  memoirs,  has  rendered  one  of  his  suits  forever 
famous.  That  worthy,  on  the  16th  of  October  in  the  same 
year,  gave  a  dinner  to  Johnson,  Goldsmith,  Reynolds,  Garrick, 
Murphy,  Bickerstaff,  and  Davies.  Goldsmith  was  generally 
apt  to  bustle  in  at  the  last  moment,  when  the  guests  were 
taking  their  seats  at  table,  but  on  this  occasion  he  was  unusu- 
ally early.  While  waiting  for  some  lingerers  to  arrive,  "he 
strutted  about,"  says  Boswell,  "bragging  of  his  dress,  and,  I 
believe,  was  seriously  vain  of  it,  for  his  mind  was  undoubtedly 
prone  to  such  impressions.  ' Come,  come,'  said  Garrick,  'talk 
no  more  of  that.  You  are  perhaps  the  worst — eh,  eh?'  Gold- 
smith was  eagerly  attempting  to  interrupt  him,  when  Garrick 
went  on,  laughing  ironically,  '  Nay,  you  will  always  look  like 
a  gentleman;  but  I  am  talking  of  your  being  well  or  ill  dressed.'1 
'Well,  let  me  tell  you,'  said  Goldsmith,  'when  the  tailor 
brought  home  my  bloom-colored  coat,  he  said,  "Sir,  I  have  a 
favor  to  beg  of  you ;  when  anybody  asks  you  who  made  your 
clothes,  be  pleased  to  mention  John  Filby,  at  the  Harrow,  in 
Water  Lane." '  '  Why,  sir,'  cried  Johnson,  '  that  was  because 
he  knew  the  strange  color  would  attract  crowds  to  gaze  at  it, 
and  thus  they  might  hear  of  him,  and  see  how  well  he  could 
make  a  coat  of  so  absurd  a  color.' " 

But  though  Goldsmith  might  permit  this  raillery  on  the  part 
of  his  friends,  he  was  quick  to  resent  any  personalities  of  the 
kind  from  strangers.  As  he  was  one  day  walking  the  Strand 
in  grand  array  with  bag-wig  and  sword,  he  excited  the  merri- 
ment of  two  coxcombs,  one  of  whom  called  to  the  other  to 
"look  at  that  fly  with  a  long  pin  stuck  through  it."  Stung  to 
the  quick,  Goldsmith's  first  retort  was  to  caution  the  passers- 


152  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

by  to  be  on  their  guard  against  ' '  that  brace  of  disguised  pick- 
pockets"— his  next  was  to  step  into  the  middle  of  the  street, 
where  there  was  room  for  action,  half  draw  his  sword,  and 
beckon  the  joker,  who  was  armed  in  like  manner,  to  follow 
him.  This  was  literally  a  war  of  wit  which  the  other  had  not 
anticipated.  He  had  no  inclination  to  push  the  joke  to  such 
an  extreme,  but  abandoning  the  ground,  sneaked  off  with  his 
brother  wag  amid  the  hootings  of  the  spectators. 

This  proneness  to  finery  in  dress,  however,  which  Boswell 
and  others  of  Goldsmith's  contemporaries,  who  did  not  under- 
stand the  secret  plies  of  his  character,  attributed  to  vanity, 
arose,  we  are  convinced,  from  a  widely  different  motive.  It 
was  from  a  painful  idea  of  his  own  personal  defects,  which  had 
been  cruelly  stamped  upon  his  mind  in  his  boyhood  by  the 
sneers  and  jeers  of  his  playmates,  and  had  been  ground  deeper 
into  it  by  rude  speeches  made  to  him  in  every  step  of  his  strug- 
gling career,  until  it  had  become  a  constant  cause  of  awkward- 
ness and  embarrassment.  This  he  had  experienced  the  more 
sensibly  since  his  reputation  had  elevated  him  into  polite 
society ;  and  he  was  constantly  endeavoring  by  the  aid  of  dress 
to  acquire  that  personal  acceptability,  if  we  may  use  the 
phrase,  which  nature  had  denied  him.  If  ever  he  betrayed  a 
little  self-complacency  on  first  turning  out  in  a  new  suit,  it  may 
perhaps  have  been  because  he  felt  as  if  he  had  achieved  a  tri 
umph  over  his  ugliness. 

There  were  circumstances  too  about  the  time  of  which  we 
are  treating  which  may  have  rendered  Goldsmith  more  than 
usually  attentive  to  his  personal  appearance.  He  had  recently 
made  the  acquaintance  of  a  most  agreeable  family  from  Devon- 
shire, which  he  met  at  the  house  of  his  friend,  Sir  Joshua  Rey- 
nolds. It  consisted  of  Mrs.  Horneck,  widow  of  Captain  Kane 
Horneck ;  two  daughters,  seventeen  and  nineteen  years  of  age. 
and  an  only  son,  Charles,  the  Captain  in  Lace,  as  his  sisters 
playfully  and  somewhat  proudly  called  him,  he  having  lately 
entered  the  Guards.  The  daughters  are  described  as  uncom 
monly  beautiful,  intelligent,  sprightly,  and  agreeable.  Cath- 
arine, the  eldest,  went  among  her  friends  by  the  name  of 
Little  Comedy,  indicative,  very  probably,  of  her  disposition. 
She  was  engaged  to  William  Henry  Bunbury,  second  son  of  a 
Suffolk  baronet.  The  hand  and  heart  of  her  sister  Mary  were 
yet  unengaged,  although  she  bore  the  by-name  among  her 
friends  of  the  Jessamy  Bride.  This  famil}*  was  prepared,  by 
their  intimacy  with  Reynolds  and  his  sister,  to  appreciate  the 


OLIVER    GOLDSMITH.  153 

merits  of  Goldsmith.  The  poet  had  always  been  a  chosen 
friend  of  the  eminent  painter,  and  Miss  Reynolds,  as  we  have 
shown,  ever  since  she  had  heard  his  poem  of  "The  Traveller" 
read  aloud,  had  ceased  to  consider  him  ugly.  The  Hornecks 
were  equally  capable  of  forgetting  his  person  in  admiring  his 
works.  On  becoming  acquainted  with  him,  too,  they  were  de- 
lighted with  his  guileless  simplicity,  his  buoyant  good-nature 
and  his  innate  benevolence,  and  an  enduring  intimacy  soon 
sprang  up  between  them.  For  once  poor  Goldsmith  had  met 
with  polite  society  with  which  he  was  perfectly  at  home,  and 
by  which  he  was  fully  appreciated ;  for  once  he  had  met  with 
lovely  women,  to  whom  his  ugly  features  were  not  repidsive. 
A  proof  of  the  easy  and  playful  terms  on  which  he  was  with 
them  remains  in  a  whimsical  epistle  in  verse,  of  which  the  fol- 
lowing was  the  occasion.  A  dinner  was  to  be  given  to  their 
family  by  a  Dr.  Baker,  a  friend  of  their  mother's,  at  which 
Reynolds  and  Angelica  Kauffman  were  to  be  present.  The 
young  ladies  were  eager  to  have  Goldsmith  of  the  party,  and 
their  intimacy  with  Dr.  Baker  allowing  them  to  take  the 
libei'ty,  they  wrote  a  joint  invitation  to  the  poet  at  the  last 
moment.  It  came  too  late,  and  drew  from  him  the  following 
reply;  on  the  top  of  which  was  scrawled,  "This  is  a  poem! 
This  is  a  copy  of  verses !" 


Your  mandate  I  got, 
Yon  may  all  go  to  pot; 
Had  your  senses  been  right, 
You'd  have  sent  before  night — 
So  tell  Horneek  and  Nesbitt, 
And  Baker  and  his  bit, 
And  Kauffman  beside, 
And  the  Ji'ssamy  Bride, 
With  the  rest  of  the  crew, 
The  Reynoldses  too, 


Little  Comedy's  face, 
And  the  Captain  in  Lace — 
Tell  each  other  to  rue 
Your  Devonshire  crew, 
For  sending  so  late 
To  one  of  my  state. 
But  'tis  Reynolds's  way 
From  wisdom  to  stray, 
And  Angelica's  whim 
To  befrolic  like  him ; 


But  alas!  your  good  worships,  how  could  tliey  be  wiser, 
When  both  have  been  spoil'd  in  to-day's  Advertiser?  * 


*  The  following  lines  had  appeared  in  that  day's  Advertiser,  on  the  portrait  of 
Sir  Joshua  by  Angelica  Kauffman: 

While  fair  Angelica,  with  matchless  grace. 
Paints  Conway's  burly  form  and  Stanhope's  face; 
Our  hearts  to  beauty  willing  homage  pay. 
We  praise,  admire,  and  gaze  our  souls  away. 
But  when  the  likeness  she  hath  done  for  thee, 
O  Reynolds!  with  astonishment  we  see, 
Forced  to  submit,  with  all  our  pride  we  own, 
Such  strength,  such  harmony  excelled  by  none, 
And  thou  art  rivalled  by  thyself  alone, 


154  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

It  has  been  intimated  that  the  intimacy  of  poor  Goldsmith 
with  the  Miss  Hornecks,  which  began  in  so  sprightly  a  vein, 
gi'adually  assumed  something  of  a  more  tender  nature,  and  that 
he  was  not  insensible  to  the  fascinations  of  the  younger  sister. 
This  may  account  for  some  of  the  phenomena  which  about 
this  time  appeared  in  his  wardrobe  and  toilet.  During  the 
first  year  of  his  acquaintance  with  these  lovely  girls,  the  tell- 
tale book  of  his  tailor,  Mr.  William  Fiiby,  displays  entries  of 
four  or  five  full  suits,  beside  separate  articles  of  dress. 
Among  the  items  we  find  a  green  half-trimmed  frock  and 
breeches,  lined  with  silk;  a  queen's  blue  dress  suit;  a  half- 
dress  suit  of  ratteen,  lined  with  satin ;  a  pair  of  silk  stocking 
breeches,  and  another  pair  of  a  bloom  color.  Alas!  poor 
Goldsmith !  how  much  of  this  silken  finery  was  dictated,  not 
by  vanity,  but  humble  consciousness  of  thy  defects;  how 
much  of  it  was  to  atone  for  the  uncouthness  of  thy  person, 
and  to  win  favor  in  the  eyes  of  the  Jessamy  Bride ! 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

GOLDSMITH  IN  THE  TEMPLE — JUDGE  DAY  AND  GRATTAN— LABOR 
AND  DISSIPATION— PUBLICATION  OP  THE  ROMAN  HISTORY — 
OPINIONS  OF  IT— HISTORY  OF  ANIMATED  NATURE  —  TEMPLE 
ROOKERY— ANECDOTES  OF  A  SPIDER. 

In  the  winter  of  1768-69  Goldsmith  occupied  himself  at  his 
quarters  in  the  Temple,  slowly  "building  up"  his  Roman 
History.  We  have  pleasant  views  of  him  in  this  learned  and 
half -cloistered  retreat  of  wits  and  lawyers  and  legal  students, 
in  the  reminiscences  of  Judge  Day  of  the  Irish  Bench,  who  in 
his  advanced  age  delighted  to  recall  the  days  of  his  youth, 
when  he  was  a  Templar,  and  to  speak  of  the  kindness  with 
which  he  and  his  fellow-student,  Grattan,  were  treated  by  the 
poet.  "I  was  just  arrived  from  college,"  said  he,  "full 
freighted  with  academic  gleanings,  and  our  author  did  not 
disdain  to  receive  from  me  some  opinions  and  hints  toward  his 
Greek  and  Roman  histories.  Being  then  a  young  man,  I  felt 
much  flattered  by  the  notice  of  so  celebrated  a  person.  He 
took  great  delight  in  the  conversation  of  Grattan,  whose 
brilliancy  in  the  morning  of  life  furnished  full  earnest  of  the 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  155 

unrivalled  splendor  which  awaited  his  meridian ;  and  finding 
us  dwelling  together  in  Essex  Court,  near  himself,  where  he 
frequently  visited  my  immortal  friend,  his  warm  heart 
became  naturally  prepossessed  toward  the  associate  of  one 
whom  he  so  much  admired. " 

The  judge  goes  on,  in  his  reminiscences,  to  give  a  picture  of 
Goldsmith's  social  habits,  similar  in  style  to  those  already 
furnished.  He  frequented  much  the  Grecian  Coffee-House, 
then  the  favorite  resort  of  the  Irish  and  Lancashire  Templars. 
He  delighted  in  collecting  his  friends  around  him  at  evening 
parties  at  his  chambers,  where  he  entertained  them  with  a 
cordial  and  unostentatious  hospitality.  "Occasionally,"  adds 
the  judge,  "he  amused  them  with  his  flute,  or  with  whist, 
neither  of  which  he  played  well,  particularly  the  latter,  but, 
on  losing  his  money,  he  never  lost  his  temper.  In  a  run  of 
bad  luck  and  worse  play,  he  would  fling  his  cards  upon  the 
floor  and  exclaim,  Byefore  George,  I  ought  forever  to  re- 
nounce thee,  fickle,  faithless  Fortune.'  " 

The  judge  was  aware  at  the  time  that  all  the  learned  labor 
of  poor  Goldsmith  upon  his  Roman  History  was  mere  hack 
work  to  recruit  his  exhausted  finances.  "His  purse  replen- 
ished," adds  he,  "by  labors  of  this  kind,  the  season  of  relaxa- 
tion and  pleasure  took  its  turn,  in  attending  the  theatres, 
Ranelagh,  Vauxhall,  and  other  scenes  of  gayety  and  amuse- 
ment. Whenever  his  funds  were  dissipated — and  they  fled 
more  rapidly  from  being  the  dupe  of  many  artful  persons, 
male  and  female,  who  practised  upon  his  benevolence— he 
returned  to  his  literary  labors,  and  shut  himself  up  from 
society  to  provide  fresh  matter  for  his  bookseller,  and  fresh 
supplies  for  himself." 

How  completely  had  the  young  student  discerned  the  charac- 
teristics of  poor,  genial,  generous,  drudging,  holiday-loving 
Goldsmith ;  toiling  that  he  might  play ;  earning  his  bread  by 
the  sweat  of  his  brains,  and  then  throwing  it  out  of  the 
window. 

The  Roman  History  was  published  in  the  middle  of  May,  in 
two  volumes  of  five  hundred  pages  each.  It  was  brought  out 
"without  parade  or  pretension,  and  was  announced  as  for  the 
use  of  schools  and  colleges;  but,  though  a  work  written  for 
bread,  not  fame,  such  is  its  ease,  perspicuity,  good  sense,  and 
the  delightful  simplicity  of  its  style,  that  it  was  well  received 
by  the  critics,  commanded  a  prompt  and  extensive  sale,  and 
has  ever  since  remained  in  the  hands  of  young  and  old. 


156  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

Johnson,  who,  as  we  have  before  remarked,  rarely  praised  or 
dispraised  tilings  by  halves,  broke  forth  in  a  warm  eulogy  of 
the  author  and  the  work,  in  a  conversation  with  Boswell,  to 
the  great  astonishment  of  the  latter.  "Whether  we  take 
Goldsmith,"  said  he,  "as  a  poet,  as  a  comic  writer,  or  as  an 
historian,  he  stands  in  the  first  class."  Boswell. — "An  his- 
torian !  My  dear  sir,  you  surely  will  not  rank  his  compilation 
of  the  Roman  History  with  the  works  of  other  historians  of 
this  age."  Johnson. — "  Why,  who  are  before  him?"  Boswell. 
— "Hume — Robertson— Lord  Lyttelton."  Johnson  (his  antip- 
athy against  the  Scotch  beginning,  to  rise). — "I  have  not  read 
Hume;  but  doubtless  Goldsmith's  History  is  better  than  the 
verbiage  of  Robertson,  or  the  foppery  of  Dalrymple. "  Boswell. 
-"Will  you  not  admit  the  superiority  of  Robertson,  in  whose 
history  we  find  such  penetration,  such  painting?"  Johnson.— 
' '  Sir,  you  must  consider  how  that  penetration  and  that  paint- 
ing are  employed.  It  is  not  history,  it  is  imagination.  He 
who  describes  what  he  never  saw,  draws  from  fancy.  Robert- 
son paints  minds  as  Sir  Joshua  paints  faces,  in  a  history -piece; 
he  imagines  an  heroic  countenance.  You  must  look  upon 
Robertson's  work  as  romance,  and  try  it  by  that  standard. 
History  it  is  not.  Besides,  sir,  it  is  the  great  excellence  of  a 
writer  to  put  into  his  book  as  much  as  his  book  will  hold. 
Goldsmith  has  done  this  in  his  history.  Now  Robertson  might 
have  put  twice  as  much  in  his  book.  Robertson  is  like  a  man 
who  has  packed  gold  in  wool ;  the  wool  takes  up  more  room 
than  the  gold.  No,  sir,  I  always  thought  Robertson  would  be 
crushed  with  his  own  weight— would  be  buried  under  his  own 
ornaments.  Goldsmith  tells  you  shortly  all  you  want  to  know ; 
Robertson  detains  you  a  great  deal  too  long.  No  man  will  read 
Robertson's  cumbrous  detad  a  second  time;  but  Goldsmith's 
plain  narrative  will  please  again  and  again.  I  would  say  to 
Robertson  what  an  old  tutor  of  a  college  said  to  one  of  his 
pupils,  '  Read  over  your  compositions,  and  whenever  you  meet 
with  a  passage  which  you  think  is  particularly  fine,  strike  it 
out ! '  Goldsmith's  abridgment  is  better  than  that  of  Lucius 
Floras  orEutropius;  and  I  will  venture  to  say,  that  if  you 
compare  him  with  Vertot  in  the  same  places  of  the  Roman  His: 
tory,  you  will  find  that  he  excels  Vertot.  Sir,  he  has  the  art 
of  compiling,  and  of  saying  everything  he  has  to  say  in  a 
pleasing  manner.  He  is  now  writing  a  Natural  History,  and 
wdl  make  it  as  entertaining  as  a  Persian  tale." 

The   Natural  History  to  which  Johnson  alluded  was  the 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  1£J7 

"'History  of  Animated  Nature,"  which  Goldsmith  commenced 
in  1769,  under  an  engagement  with  Griffin,  the  bookseller,  to 
complete  it  as  soon  as  possible  in  eight  volumes,  each  contain- 
ing upward  of  four  hundred  pages,  in  pica ;  a  hundred  guineas 
to  be  paid  to  the  author  on  the  delivery  of  each  volume  in 
manuscript. 

He  was  induced  to  engage  in  this  work  by  the  urgent  solici- 
tations of  the  booksellers,  who  had  been  struck  by  the  sterling 
merits  and  captivating  style  of  an  introduction  which  he  wrote 
to  Brookes's  Natural  History.  It  was  Goldsmith's  intention 
originally  to  make  a  translation  of  Pliny,  with  a  popular  com- 
mentary ;  but  the  appearance  of  Buffon's  work  induced  him  to 
change  Ins  plan,  and  make  use  of  that  author  for  a  guide  and 
model. 

Cumberland,  speaking,  of  this  work,  observes:  "Distress 
drove  Goldsmith  upon  undertakings  neither  congenial  with  his 
studies  nor  worthy  of  his  talents.  I  remember  him  when,  in 
his  chambers  in  the  Temple,  he  showed  me  the  beginning  of  his 
'  Animated  Nature ;'  it  was  with  a  sigh,  such  as  genius  draws 
when  hard  necessity  diverts  it  from  its  bent  to  drudge  for 
bread,  and  talk  of  birds,  and  beasts,  and  creeping  tilings, 
which  Pidock's  showman  would  have  done  as  well.  Poor  fel- 
low, he  hardly  knows  an  ass  from  a  mule,  nor  a  turkey  from  a 
goose,  but  when  he  sees  it  on  the  table." 

Others  of  Goldsmith's  friends  entertained  similar  ideas  with 
respect  to  his  fitness  for  the  task,  and  they  were  apt  now  and 
then  to  banter  him  on  the  subject,  and  to  amuse  themselves 
with  his  easy  credulity.  The  custom  among  the  natives  of 
Otaheite  of  eating  dogs  being  once  mentioned  in  company, 
Goldsmith  observed  that  a  similar  custom  prevailed  in  China ; 
that  a  dog-butcher  is  as  common  there  as  any  other  butcher ; 
and  that  when  he  walks  abroad  all  the  dogs  fall  on  him.  John- 
son. --  "  That  is  not  owing  to  his  killing  dogs;  sir,  I  remember 
a  butcher  at  Lichfield,  whom  a  dog  that  was  in  the  house 
where  I  lived  always  attacked.  It  is  the  smell  of  carnage 
which  provokes  this,  let  the  animals  he  has  killed  be  what 
they  may."  Goldsmith.— "Yes,  there  is  a  general  abhorrence 
in  animals  at  the  signs  of  massacre.  If  you  put  a  tub  full  of 
blood  into  a  stable,  the  horses  are  likely  to  go  mad."  Johnson. 
—"I  doubt  that."  Goldsmith.— " Nay,  sir,  it  is  a  fact  well 
authenticated."  Thrale.— "  You  had  better  prove  it  before  you 
put  it  into  your  book  on  Natural  History.  You  may  do  it  in 
my  stable  if  you  will."     Johnson.— "Nay,  sir,  I  would  not 


158  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

have  him  prove  it.  If  he  is  content  to  take  his  information 
from  others,  he  may  get  through  his  book  with  little  trouble, 
and  without  much  endangering  his  reputation.  But  if  he 
makes  experiments  for  so  comprehensive  a  book  as  his,  there 
would  be  no  end  to  them ;  his  erroneous  assertions  would  fall 
ihen  upon  himself ;  and  he  might  be  blamed  for  not  having 
made  experiments  as  to  every  particular." 

Johnson's  original  prediction,  however,  with  respect  to  this 
work,  that  Goldsmith  would  make  it  as  entertaining  as  a  Per- 
sian tale,  was  verified;  and  though  much  of  it  was  borrowed 
from  Buff  on,  and  but  little  of  it  written  from  his  own  observa- 
tion ;  though  it  was  by  no  means  profound,  and  was  charge- 
able with  many  errors,  yet  the  charms  of  his  style  and  the  play 
of  Ms  happy  disposition  throughout  have  continued  to  render 
it  far  more  popular  and  readable  than  many  works  on  the  sub- 
ject of  much  greater  scope  and  science.  Cumberland  was  mis- 
taken, however,  in  his  notion  of  Goldsmith's  ignorance  and 
lack  of  observation  as  to  the  characteristics  of  animals.  On 
the  contrary,  he  was  a  minute  and  shrewd  observer  of  them; 
but  he  observed  them  with  the  eye  of  a  poet  and  moralist  as 
well  as  a  naturalist.  We  quote  two  passages  from  his  works 
illustrative  of  this  fact,  and  we  do  so  the  more  readily  because 
they  are  in  a  manner  a  part  of  his  history,  and  give  us  another 
peep  into  his  private  life  in  the  Temple ;  of  his  mode  of  occupy- 
ing himself  in  his  lonely  and  apparently  idle  moments,  and  of 
another  class  of  acquaintances  which  he  made  there. 

Speaking  in  his  "Animated  Nature"  of  the  habitudes  of 
Rooks,  "I  have  often  amused  myself,"  says  he,  "  with  observ- 
ing their  plans  of  policy  from  my  window  in  the  Temple,  that 
looks  upon  a  grove,  where  they  have  made  a  colony  in  the 
midst  of  a  city.  At  the  commencement  of  spring  the  rookery, 
which,  during  the  continuance  of  winter,  seemed  to  have  been 
deserted,  or  only  guarded  by  about  five  or  six,  like  old  soldiers 
in  a  garrison,  now  begins  to  be  once  more  frequented ;  and  in  a 
short  time,  all  the  bustle  and  hurry  of  business  will  be  fairly 
commenced." 

The  other  passage,  which  we  take  the  liberty  to  quote  at  some 
length,  is  from  an  admirable  paper  in  the  Bee,  and  relates  to 
the  House  Spider. 

"Of  all  the  solitary  insects  I  have  ever  remarked,  the  spider 
is  the  most  sagacious,  and  its  motions  to  me,  who  have  atten- 
tively considered  them,  seem  almost  to  exceed  belief.  ...  I 
perceived,  about  four  years  ago,  a  large  spider  in  one  corner  of 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  ]59 

my  room  making  its  web;  and,  though  the  maid  frequently 
levelled  her  broom  against  the  labors  of  the  little  animal,  I 
had  the  good  fortune  then  to  prevent  its  destruction,  and 
I  may  say  it  more  than  paid  me  by  the  entertainment  it 
afforded. 

"In  three  days  the  -web  was,  with  incredible  diligence,  com- 
pleted ;  nor  could  I  avoid  thinking  that  the  insect  seemed  to 
exult  in  its  new  abode.  It  frequently  traversed  it  round, 
examined  the  strength  of  every  part  of  it,  retired  into  its  hole, 
and  came  out  very  frequently.  The  first  enemy,  however,  it 
had  to  encounter  was  another  and  a  much  larger  spider, 
which,  having  no  web  of  its  own,  and  having  probably  ex- 
hausted all  its  stock  in  former  labors  of  this  kind,  came  to 
invade  the  property  of  its  neighbor.  Soon,  then,  a  terrible 
encounter  ensued,  in  which  the  invader  seemed  to  have  the 
victory,  and  the  laborious  spider  was  obliged  to  take  refuge  in 
its  hole.  Upon  this  I  perceived  the  victor  using  every  art  to 
draw  the  enemy  from  its  stronghold.  He  seemed  to  go  off, 
but  quickly  returned ;  and  when  he  found  all  arts  in  vain, 
began  to  demolish  the  new  web  without  mercy.  This  brought 
on  another  battle,  and,  contrary  to  my  expectations,  the 
laborious  spider  became  conqueror,  and  fairly  killed  his  an- 
tagonist. 

' '  Now,  then,  in  peaceable  possession  of  what  was  justly  its 
own,  it  waited  three  days  with  the  utmost  patience,  repairing 
the  breaches  of  its  web,  and  taking  no  sustenance  that  I  could 
perceive.  At  last,  however,  a  large  blue  fly  fell  into  the  snare, 
and  struggled  hard  to  get  loose.  The  spider  gave  it  leave  to 
entangle  itself  as  much  as  possible,  but  it  seemed  to  be  too 
strong  for  the  cobweb.  I  must  own  I  was  greatly  surprised 
when  I  saw  the  spider  immediately  sally  out,  and  in  less  than 
a  minute  weave  a  new  net  round  its  captive,  by  which  the 
motion  of  its  wings  was  stopped;  and  when  it  was  fairly 
hampered  in  this  manner  it  was  seized  and  dragged  into  the 
hole. 

' '  In  this  manner  it  lived,  in  a  precarious  state ;  and  nature 
seemed  to  have  fitted  it  for  such  a  life,  for  upon  a  single  fly  it 
subsisted  for  more  than  a  week.  I  once  put  a  wasp  into  the 
net;  but  when  the  spider  came  out  in  order  to  seize  it,  as 
usual,  upon  perceiving  what  kind  of  an  enemy  it  had  to  deal 
with,  it  instantly  broke  all  the  bands  that  held  it  fast,  and 
contributed  all  that  lay  in  its  power  to  disengage  so  formidable 
an  antagonist.     When  the  wasp  was  set  at  liberty,  I  expected 


160  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

the  spider  would  have  set  about  repairing  the  breaches  that 
were  made  in  its  net;  but  those,  it  seems,  were  irreparable: 
wherefore  the  cobweb  was  now  entirely  forsaken,  and  a  new 
one  begun,  which  was  completed  in  the  usual  time. 

"I  had  now  a  mind  to  try  how  many  cobwebs  a  single  spider 
could  furnish;  wherefore  I  destroyed  this,  and  the  insect  set 
about  another.  When  I  destroyed  the  other  also,  its  whole 
stock  seemed  entirely  exhausted,  and  it  could  spin  no  more. 
The  arts  it  made  use  of  to  support  itself,  now  deprived  of  its 
great  means  of  subsistence,  were  indeed  surprising.  I  have 
seen  it  roll  up  its  legs  like  a  ball,  and  lie  motionless  for  hours 
together,  but  cautiously  watching  all  the  time :  when  a  fly 
happened  to  approach  sufficiently  near,  it  would  dart  out  all 
at  once,  and  often  seize  its  prey. 

"Of  this  life,  however,  it  soon  began  to  grow  weary,  and 
resolved  to  invade  the  possession  of  some  other  spider,  since  it 
could  not  make  a  web  of  its  own.  It  formed  an  attack  upon  a 
neighboring  fortification  with  great  vigor,  and  at  first  was  as 
vigorously  repulsed.  Not  daunted,  however,  with  one  defeat, 
in  this  manner  it  continued  to  lay  siege  to  another's  web  for 
three  days,  and  at  length,  having  killed  the  defendant,  actually 
took  possession.  ^Yhen  smaller  flies  happen  to  fall  into  the 
snare,  the  spider  does  not  sally  out  at  once,  but  very  patiently 
waits  till  it  is  sine  of  them ;  for,  upon  his  immediately  ap- 
proaching, the  terror  of  his  appearance  might  give  the  captive 
strength  sufficient  to  get  loose;  the  manner,  then,  is  to  wait 
patiently,  till,  by  ineffectual  and  impotent  struggles,  the  cap- 
tive has  wasted  all  its  strength,  and  then  he  becomes  a  certain 
and  easy  conquest. 

"The  insect  I  am  now  describing  lived  three  years;  every 
year  it  changed  its  skin  and  got  a  new  set  of  legs.  I  have 
sometimes  plucked  off  a  leg,  which  grew  again  in  two  or  three 
days.  At  first  it  dreaded  my  approach  to  its  web,  but  at  last 
it  became  so  familiar  as  to  take  a  fly  out  of  my  hand;  and, 
upon  my  touching  any  part  of  the  web,  would  immediately 
leave  its  hole,  prepared  either  for  a  defence  or  an  attack." 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  1G1 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

HONORS  AT  THE  ROYAL  ACADEMY — LETTER  TO  HIS  BROTHER 
MAURICE  —  FAMILY  FORTUNES  —  JANE  CONTARINE  AND  THE 
MINIATURE — PORTRAITS  AND  ENGRAVINGS — SCHOOL  ASSOCIA- 
TIONS—JOHNSON AND  GOLDSMITH  IN  WESTMINSTER  ABBEY. 

The  latter  part  of  the  year  1768  had  been  made  memorable 
in  the  world  of  taste  by  the  institution  of  the  Royal  Academy 
of  Arts,  under  the  patronage  of  the  King,  and  the  direction  of 
forty  of  the  most  distinguished  artists.  Reynolds,  who  had 
been  mainly  instrumental  in  founding  it,  had  been  unani- 
mously elected  president,  and  had  thereupon  received  the 
honor  of  knighthood.*  Johnson  was  so  delighted  with  his 
friend's  elevation,  that  he  broke  through  a  rule  of  total  absti- 
nence with  respect  to  wine,  winch  he  had  maintained  for 
several  years,  and  drank  bumpers  on  the  occasion.  Sir  Joshua 
eagerly  sought  to  associate  his  old  and  valued  friends  with 
him  in  his  new  honors,  and  it  is  supposed  to  be  through  his 
suggestions  that,  on  the  first  establishment  of  professorships, 
which  took  place  in  December,  1769,  Johnson  was  nominated 
to  that  of  Ancient  Literature,  and  Goldsmith  to  that  of  His- 
tory. They  were  mere  honorary  titles,  without  emolument, 
but  gave  distinction,  from  the  noble  institution  to  which  they 
appertained.  They  also  gave  the  possessors  honorable  places 
at  the  annual  banquet,  at  which  were  assembled  many  of  the 
most  distinguished  persons  of  rank  and  talent,  all  proud  to  be 
classed  among  the  patrons  of  the  arts. 

The  following  letter  of  Goldsmith  to  his  brother  alludes  to 
the  foregoing  appointment,  and  to  a  small  legacy  bequeathed 
to  him  by  his  uncle  Contarine. 

"  To  Mr.  Maurice  Goldsmith,  at  James  Lawder's,  Esq.,  at  Kil~ 
more,  near  CarricJc-on- Shannon. 

"  January,  1770. 

"Dear  Brother:  I  should  have  answered  your  letter  sooner, 
but,  in  truth,  I  am  not  fond  of  thinking  of  the  necessities  of 

*  Wo  must  apologize  for  the  anachronism  we  have  permitted  ourselves  in  the 
course  of  this  memoir,  in  speaking  of  Reynolds  as  Sir  Joshua,  when  treating  of 
circumstances  which  occurred  prior  to  his  being  dubbed;  but  it  is  so  customary  to 
speak  of  him  by  that  title,  that  we  found  it  difficult  to  dispense  with  it. 


162  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

those  I  love,  when  it  is  so  very  little  in  my  power  to  help  them. 
I  ana  sorry  to  find  you  are  every  way  unprovided  for;  and 
what  adds  to  my  uneasiness  is,  that  I  have  received  a  letter 
from  my  sister  Johnson,  by  which  I  learn  that  she  is  pretty 
much  in  the  same  circumstances.  As  to  myself,  I  believe  I  think 
I  could  get  both  you  and  ray  poor  brother-in-law  something  like 
that  which  you  desire,  but  I  am  determined  never  to  ask  for 
little  things,  nor  exhaust  any  little  interest  I  may  have,  until 
I  can  serve  you,  him,  and  myself  more  effectually.  As  yet,  no 
opportunity  has  offered ;  but  I  believe  you  are  pretty  well  con- 
vinced that  I  will  not  be  remiss  when  it  arrives. 

' '  The  king  has  lately  been  pleased  to  make  me  Professor  of 
Ancient  History  in  the  Royal  Academy  of  Painting  which  he 
has  just  established,  but  there  is  no  salary  annexed ;  and  I  took 
it  rather  as  a  compliment  to  the  institution  than  any  benefit 
to  myself.  Honors  to  one  in  my  situation  are  something  like 
ruffles  to  one  that  wants  a  shirt. 

' '  You  tell  me  that  there  are  fourteen  or  fifteen  pounds  left 
me  in  the  hands  of  my  cousin  Lawder,  and  you  ask  me  what 
I  would  have  done  with  them.  My  dear  brother,  I  would  by 
no  means  give  any  directions  to  my  dear  worthy  relations  at 
Kilmore  how  to  dispose  of  money  which  is,  properly  speaking, 
more  theirs  than  mine.  All  that  I  can  say  is,  that  I  entirely, 
and  this  letter  will  serve  to  witness,  give  up  any  right  and  title 
to  it ;  and  I  am  sure  they  will  dispose  of  it  to  the  best  advan- 
tage. To  them  I  entirely  leave  it ;  whether  they  or  you  may 
think  the  whole  necessary  to  fit  you  out,  or  whether  our  poor 
sister  Johnson  may  not  want  the  half,  I  leave  entirely  to  their 
and  your  discretion.  The  kindness  of  that  good  couple  to  our 
shattered  family  demands  our  sincerest  gratitude :  and,  though 
they  have  almost  forgotten  me,  yet,  if  good  things  at  last  ar- 
rive. I  hope  one  day  to  return  and  increase  their  good-humor 
by  adding  to  my  own. 

' '  I  have  sent  my  cousin  Jenny  a  miniature  picture  of  my- 
self, as  I  believe  it  is  the  most  acceptable  present  I  can  offer. 
I  have  ordered  it  to  be  left  for  her  at  George  Faulkner's,  folded 
in  a  letter.  The  face,  you  well  know,  is  ugly  enough,  but  it  is 
finely  painted.  I  will  shortly  also  send  nry  friends  over  the 
Shannon  some  mezzotinto  prints  of  myself,  and  some  more  of 
my  friends  here,  such  as  Burke_  Johnson,  Reynolds,  and  Col- 
man.  I  believe  I  have  written  a  hundred  letters  to  different 
friends  in  your  country,  and  never  received  an  answer  to  any 
of  them.     I  do  not  know  how  to  account  for  this,  or  why  they 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  163 

are  unwilling  to  keep  up  for  me  those  regards  which  I  must 
ever  retain  for  them. 

"If,  then,  you  have  a  mind  to  oblige  me,  you  will  write 
often,  whether  I  answer  you  or  not.  Let  me  particularly  have 
the  news  of  our  f  amily  and  old  acquaintances.  For  instance, 
you  may  begin  by  telling  me  about  the  family  where  you  re- 
side, how  they  spend  their  time,  and  whether  they  ever  make 
mention  of  me.  Tell  me  about  my  mother,  my  brother  Hod- 
son  and  his  son,  my  brother  Harry's  son  and  daughter,  my 
sister  Johnson,  the  family  of  Ballyoughter,  what  is  become  of 
them,  whore  they  live,  and  how  they  do.  You  talked  of  being 
my  only  brother:  I  don't  understand  you.  Where  is  Charles? 
A  sheet  of  paper  occasionally  filled  with  the  news  of  this  kind 
would  make  mc  very  happy,  and  would  keep  you  nearer  my 
mind.  As  it  is,  my  dear  brother,  believe  me  to  be 
"  Yours,  most  affectionately, 

"Oliver  Goldsmith." 

By  this  letter  we  find  the  Goldsmiths  the  same  shifting,  shift- 
less race  as  formerly;  a  "  shattered  family,"  scrambling  on  each 
other's  back  as  soon  as  any  rise  above  the  surface.  Maurice 
is  "every  way  unprovided  for;"  living  upon  cousin  Jane  and 
her  husband ;  and,  perhaps,  amusing  himself  by  hunting  otter 
in  the  river  Inny.  Sister  Johnson  and  ber  husband  are  as 
poorly  off  as  Maurice,  with,  perhaps,  no  one  at  hand  to  quar- 
ter themselves  upon ;  as  to  the  rest,  ' '  what  is  become  of  them ; 
where  do  they  live ;  how  do  they  do ;  what  is  become  of 
Charles  c"  What  forlorn,  haphazard  life  is  implied  by  these 
questions!  Can  we  wonder  that,  with  all  the  love  for  his 
native  place,  which  is  shown  throughout  Goldsmith's  writ- 
ings, he  had  not  the  heart  to  return  there?  Yet  his  affections 
are  still  there.  He  wishes  to  know  whether  the  Lawders 
(which  means  his  cousin  Jane,  his  early  Valentine)  ever  make 
mention  of  him ;  he  sends  Jane  his  miniature ;  he  believes  ' '  it 
is  the  most  acceptable  present  he  can  offer;"  he  evidently, 
therefore,  does  not  believe  she  has  almost  forgotten  him, 
although  he  intimates  •  that  he  does :  in  his  memory  she  is 
still  Jane  Contarine,  as  he  last  saw  her,  when  he  accompanied 
her  harpsichord  with  his  flute.  Absence,  like  death,  sets  a 
seal  on  the  image  of  those  we  have  loved ;  we  cannot  realize 
the  intervening  changes  which  time  may  have  effected. 

As  to  the  rest  of  Goldsmith's  relatives,  he  abandons  his 
legacy  of  fifteen  pounds,  to  be  shared  among  them.    It  is  all  lie 


164  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

has  to  give.  His  heedless  improvidence  is  eating  up  the  pay 
of  the  booksellers  in  advance.  With  all  his  literary  success, 
he  has  neither  money  nor  influence ;  but  he  has  empty  fame, 
and  he  is  ready  to  participate  with  them ;  he  is  honorary  pro- 
fessor, without  pay ;  his  portrait  is  to  be  engraved  in  mezzo- 
tint, in  company  with  those  of  his  friends,  Burke,  Eeynolds, 
Johnson,  Colman,  and  others,  and  he  will  send  prints  of  them 
to  his  friends  over  the  Channel,  though  they  may  not  have  a 
house  to  hang  them  up  in.  What  a  motley  letter !  How  indi- 
cative of  the  motley  character  of  the  writer !  By  the  by,  the 
publication  of  a  splendid  mezzotinto  engraving  of  his  likeness 
by  Eeynolds,  was  a  great  matter  of  glorification  to  Gold- 
smith, especially  as  it  appeared  in  such  illustrious  company. 
As  he  was  one  day  walking  the  streets  in  a  state  of  high  ela- 
tion, from  having  just  seen  it  figuring  in  the  print-shop  win- 
dows, he  met  a  young  .gentleman  with  a  newly  married  wife 
hanging  on  his  arm,  wkoni  he  immediately  recognized  for 
Master  Bishop,  one  of  the  boys  he  had  petted  and  treated  with 
sweetmeats  when  a  humble  usher  at  Milner's  school.  The 
kindly  feelings  of  old  times  revived,  and  he  accosted  him  with 
cordial  familiarity,  though  the  youth  may  have  found  some 
difficulty  in  recognizing  in  the  personage,  arrayed,  perhaps,  in 
garments  of  Tyrian  dye,  the  dingy  pedagogue  of  the  Milners. 
"Come,  my  boy,"  cried  Goldsmith,  as  if  still  speaking  to  a 
schoolboy,  "Come,  Sam,  I  am  delighted  to  see  you.  I  must 
treat  you  to  something— what  shall  it  be?  Will  you  have  some 
apples?"  glancing  at  an  old  woman's  stall;  then,  recollecting 
the  print-shop  window :  "Sam,"  said  he,  "have  you  seen  my 
picture  by  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds?  Have  you  seen  it,  Sam? 
Have  you  got  an  engraving?"  Bishop  was  caught;  he  equivo- 
cated ;  he  had  not  yet  bought  it ;  but  he  was  furnishing  his 
house,  and  had  fixed  upon  the  place  where  it  was  to  be  hung. 
"Ah,  Sam!"  rejoined  Goldsmith  reproachfully,  "if  your  pic 
ture  had  been  published,  I  should  not  have  waited  an  hour 
without  having  it." 

After  all,  it  was  honest  pride,  not  vanity,  in  Goldsmith,  that 
was  gratified  at  seeing  his  portrait  deemed  worthy  of  being 
perpetuated  by  the  classic  pencil  of  Reynolds,  and  ' '  hung  up 
in  history"  beside  that  of  his  revered  friend,  Johnson.  Even 
the  great  moralist  himself  was  not  insensible  to  a  feeling  of 
this  kind.  Walking  one  day  with  Goldsmith,  in  Westminster 
Abbey,  among  the  tombs  of  monarchs,  warriors,  and  states- 
men, they  came  to  the  sculptured  mementos  of  literary  wor- 


0L1  VEB   Q0LD8M1  Til.  \  | ;.~, 

thies  in  poets'  corner.  Casting  his  eye  round  upon  these  me- 
morials of  genius,  Johnson  muttered  in  a  low  tone  to  his 
companion, 

Forsitan  et  nostrum  nomen  miscebitur  istis. 

Goldsmith  treasured  up  the  intimated  hope,  and  shortly  after- 
ward, as  they  were  passing  hy  Temple  har,  where  the  heads  of 
Jacobite  rebels,  executed  for  treason,  were  mouldering  aloft  on 
spikes,  pointed  up  to  the  grizzly  mementos,  and  echoed  the  in- 
timation, 

Forsitan  et  nostrum  nomen  miscebitur  istis. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

PUBLICATION   OF  THE    "DESERTED  VILLAGE1'— NOTICES  AND 
ILLUSTRATIONS  OF  IT. 

Several  years  had  now  elapsed  since  the  publication  of 
"The  Traveller,"  and  much  wonder  was  expressed  that  the 
great  success  of  that  poem  had  not  excited  the  author  to 
further  poetic  attempts.  On  being  questioned  at  the  annual 
dinner  of  the  Eoyal  Academy  by  the  Earl  of  Lisburn,  why  he 
neglected  the  muses  to  compile  histories  and  write'  novels, 
"  My  Lord,"  replied  he,  "by  courting  the  muses  I  shall  starve, 
but  by  my  other  labors  I  eat,  drink,  have  good  clothes,  and 
can  enjoy  the  luxuries  of  life. "  So,  also,  on  being  asked  by  a 
poor  writer  what  was  the  most  profitable  mode  of  exercising 
the  pen,  "My  dear  fellow,"  replied  he,  good-hum oredly,  "pay 
no  regard  to  the  draggle-tailed  muses;  for  my  part  I  have 
found  productions  in  prose  much  more  sought  after  and  better 
paid  for." 

Still,  however,  as  we  have  heretofore  shown,  he  found  sweet 
moments  of  dalliance  to  steal  away  from  his  prosaic  toils,  and 
court  the  muse  among  the  green  lanes  and  hedge-rows  in  the 
rural  environs  of  London,  and  on  the  26th  of  May,  1770,  he 
was  enabled  to  bring  Ms  "Deserted  Village"  before  the  public. 

The  popularity  of  "The  Traveller"  had  prepared  the  way 
for  this  poem,  and  its  sale  was  instantaneous  and  immense. 
The  first  edition  was  immediately  exhausted ;  in  a  few  days  a 
second  was  issued ;  in  a  few  days  more  a  third,  and  by  the 


16G  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

16th  of  August  the  fifth  edition  was  hurried  through  the  press. 
As  is  the  case  with  popular  writers,  he  had  become  his  own 
rival,  and  critics  were  inclined  to  give  the  preference  to  his 
first  poem;  but  with  the  public  at  large  we  believe  the  ''De- 
serted Village"  has  ever  been  the  greatest  favorite.  Previous 
to  its  publication  the  bookseller  gave  him  in  advance  a  note 
for  the  price  agreed  upon,  one  hundred  guineas.  As  the  latter 
was  returning  home  he  met  a  friend  to  whom  he  mentioned 
the  circumstance,  and  who,  apparently  judging  of  poetry  by 
quantity  rather  than  quality,  observed  that  it  was  a  great  sum 
for  so  small  a  poem.  "In  truth,"  said  Goldsmith,  "I  think  so 
too ;  it  is  much  more  than  the  honest  man  can  afford  or  the 
piece  is  worth.  J  have  not  been  easy  since  I  received  it."  In 
fact,  he  actually  returned  the  note  to  the  bookseller,  and  left 
it  to  him  to  graduate  the  payment  according  to  the  success  of 
the  work.  The  bookseller,  as  may  well  be  supposed,  soon  re- 
paid him  in  full  with  many  acknowledgments  of  bis  disinter- 
estedness. This  anecdote  has  been  called  in  question,  we 
know  not  on  what  grounds ;  we  see  nothing  in  it  incompatible 
with  the  character  of  Goldsmith,  who  was  very  impulsive, 
and  prone  to  acts  of  inconsiderate  generosity. 

As  we  do  not  pretend  in  this  summary  memoir  to  go  into  a 
criticism  or  analysis  of  any  of  Goldsmith's  writings,  we  shall 
not  dwell  upon  the  peculiar  merits  of  this  poem;  we  cannot 
help  noticing,  however,  how  truly  it  is  a  mirror  of  the  author's 
heart,  and  of  all  the  fond  pictures  of  early  friends  and  early  life 
forever  present  there.  It  seems  to  us  as  if  the  very  last  ac- 
counts received  from  home,  of  his  "shattered  family,"  and  the 
desolation  that  seemed  to  have  settled  upon  the  haunts  of  his 
chilhood,  had  cut  to  the  roots  one  feebly  cherished  hope,  and 
produced  the  following  exquisitely  tender  and  mournful  lines : 

"In  all  my  wand'riDgs  round  this  world  of  care, 
In  all  my  griefs— and  God  has  giv*n  my  share — 
I  still  had  hopes  m}-  latest  hours  to  crown, 
Amid  these  humble  bowers  to  lay  me  down ; 
To  husband  out  life's  taper  at  the  close. 
And  keep  the  flame  from  wasting  by  repose; 
I  still  had  hopes,  for  pride  attends  us  still, 
Amid  the  swains  to  show  my  book-learn'd  skill, 
Around  my  fire  an  ev'ning  group  to  draw, 
And  tell  of  all  I  felt  and-all  I  saw; 
And  as  a  hare,  whom  hounds  and  horns  pursue, 
Pants  to  t!,o  place  from  whence  at  first  she  flew; 
I  still  had  hopes,  my  long  vexations  past. 
Here  to  return— and  die  at  home  at  last.'''' 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  1(37 

How  touchingly  expressive  are  the  succeeding  lines,  wrung 
froni  a  heart  which  all  the  trials  and  temptations  and  buffet- 
ings  of  the  world  could  not  render  worldly;  which,  amid  a 
thousand  follies  and  errors  of  the  head,  still  retained  its  child- 
like innocence;  and  which,  doomed  to  struggle  on  to  the  last 
amid  the  din  and  turmoil  of  the  metropolis,  has  ever  been 
cheating  itself  with  a  dream  of  rural  quiet  and  seclusion : 

"  Oh  bless'd  retirement!  friend  to  life's  decline, 
Retreats  from  care,  that  never  must  be  mine. 
How  blest  is  he  who  crowns,  in  shades  like  these, 
A  youth  of  labor  with  an  age  of  ease; 
Who  quits  a  world  where  strong  temptations  try, 
And,  since  'tis  hard  to  combat,  learns  to  fly! 
For  him  no  wretches,  born  to  work  and  weep, 
Explore  the  mine,  or  tempt  the  dangerous  deep; 
Nor  surly  porter  stands,  in  guilty  state, 
To  spurn  imploring  famine  from  the  gate; 
But  on  he  moves  to  meet  his  latter  end, 
Angels  around  befriending  virtue's  friend; 
Sinks  to  the  grave  with  unperceived  decay, 
While  resignation  gently  slopes  the  way; 
And  all  his  prospects  brightening  to  the  last, 
His  heaven  commences  ere  the  world  be  past." 


NOTE. 

The  following  article,  which  appeared  in  a  London  periodi- 
cal, shows  the  effect  of  Goldsmith's  poem  in  renovating  the 
fortunes  of  Lissoy. 

"About  three  miles  from  Bally'mahon,  a  very  central  town 
in  the  sister  kingdom,  is  the  mansion  and  village  of  Auburn, 
so  called  by  their  present  possessor,  Captain  Hogan.  Through 
the  taste  and  improvement  of  this  gentleman,  it  is  now  a  beau- 
tiful spot,  although  fifteen  years  since  it  presented  a  very  bare 
and  unpoetical  aspect.  This,  however,  was  owing  to  a  cause 
which  serves  strongly  to  corroborate  the  assertion  that  Gold- 
smith had  this  scene  in  view  when  he  wrote  his  poem  of  '  The 
Deserted  Village. '  The  then  possessor,  General  Napier,  turned 
all  his  tenants  out  of  their  farms  that  he  might  inclose  them  in 
his  own  private  domain.  Littleton,  the  mansion  of  the  gen- 
eral, stands  not  far  off,  a  complete  emblem  of  the  desolating 
spirit  lamented  by  the  poet,  dilapidated  and  converted  into  a 
barrack. 

"  The  chief  object  of  attraction  is  Lissoy,  once  the  parsonage 
house  of  Henry  Goldsmith,  that  brother  to  whom  the  poet 


168  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

dedicated  his  '  Traveller,'  and  who  is  represented  as  the  village 
pastor, 

'  Passing  rich  with  forty  pounds  a  year.' 

' '  When  I  was  in  the  country,  the  lower  chambers  were  in- 
habited by  pigs  and  sheep,  and  the  drawing-rooms  by  goats. 
Captain  Hogan,  however,  has,  I  believe,  got  it  since  into  his 
possession,  and  has,  of  course,  improved  its  condition. 

"Though  at  first  strongly  inclined  to  dispute  the  identity  of 
Auburn,  Lissoy  House  overcame  my  scruples.  As  I  clambered 
over  the  rotten  gate,  and  crossed  the  grass-grown  lawn  or 
court,  the  tide  of  association  became  too  strong  for  casuistry ; 
here  the  poet  dwelt  and  wrote,  and  here  his  thoughts  fondly 
recurred  when  composing  his  '  Traveller '  in  a  foreign  land. 
Yonder  was  the  decent  church,  that  literally  '  topped  the  neigh- 
boring hill.'  Before  me  lay  the  little  hill  of  Knockrue,  on  which 
he  declares,  in  one  of  his  letters,  he  had  rather  sit  with  a  book 
in  hand  than  mingle  in  tbe  proudest  assemblies.  And,  above 
all,  startlingly  true,  beneath  my  feet  was 

'  Yonder  copse,  where  once  the  garden  smiled, 
And  still  where  many  a  garden-flower  grows  wild.' 

' '  A  painting  from  the  life  could  not  be  more  exact.  '  The 
stubborn  currant-bush '  lifts  its  head  above  the  rank  grass,  and 
the  proud  hollyhock  flaunts  where  its  sisters  of  the  flower-knot 
are  no  more. 

"In  the  middle  of  the  village  stands  the  old  ' hawthorn- tree,' 
built  up  with  masonry  to  distinguish  and  preserve  it;  it  is  old 
and  stunted,  and  suffers  much  from  the  depredations  of  post- 
chaise  travellers,  who  generally  stop  to  procure  a  twig.  Op- 
posite to  it  is  the  village  alehouse,  over  the  door  of  which 
swings  '  The  Three  Jolly  Pigeons. '  Within  everything  is  ar- 
ranged according  to  the  letter : 

'The  whitewash'd  wall,  the  nicely-sanded  floor. 
The  varnish'd  clock  that  click'd  behind  the  door: 
The  chest,  contrived  a  double  debt  to  pay, 
A  bed  by  night,  a  chest  of  drawers  by  day; 
The  pictures  placed  for  ornament  and  use, 
The  twelve  good  rules,  the  royal  game  of  goose.' 

' '  Captain  Hogan,  I  have  heard,  found  great  difficult}"  in  ob- 
taining '  the  twelve  good  rules,'  but  at  length  purchased  them 
at  some  London  bookstall  to  adorn  the  whitewashed  parlor  of 
'Tbe  Three  Jolly  Pigeons.'  However  laudable  this  may  be, 
nothing  shook  my  faith  in  the  reality  of  Auburn  so  much  as 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH,  109 

this  exactness,  which  had  the  disagreeable  air  of  being  got  up 
for  the  occasion.  The  last  object  of  pilgrimage  is  the  quondam 
habitation  of  the  schoolmaster, 

'  There,  in  his  noisy  mansion,  skill'd  to  rule.' 

It  is  surrounded  with  fragrant  proofs  of  identity  in 

'  The  blossom'd  furze,  unprofltably  gay.' 

' '  There  is  to  be  seen  the  chair  of  the  poet,  which  fell  into  the 
hands  of  its  present  possessors  at  the  wreck  of  the  parsonage- 
house  ;  they  have  frequently  refused  large  offers  of  purchase ; 
but  more,  I  dare  say,  for  the  sake  of  drawing  contributions 
from  the  curious  than  from  any  reverence  for  the  bard.  The 
chair  is  of  oak,  with  back  and  seat  of  cane,  which  precluded 
all  hopes  of  a  secret  drawer,  like  that  lately  discovered  in 
Gay's.  There  is  no  fear  of  its  being  worn  out  by  the  devout 
earnestness  of  sitters — as  the  cocks  and  hens  have  usurped  un- 
disputed possession  of  it,  and  protest  most  clamorously  against 
all  attempts  to  get  it  cleansed  or  to  seat  one's  self. 

"The  controversy  concerning  the  identity  of  this  Auburn 
was  formerly  a  standing  theme  of  discussion  among  the 
learned  of  the  neighborhood;  but,  since  the  pros  and  cons 
have  been  all  ascertained,  the  argument  has  died  away.  Its 
abettors  plead  the  singular  agreement  between  the  local  his- 
tory of  the  place  and  the  Auburn  of  the  poem,  and  the  exact- 
ness with  which  the  scenery  of  the  one  answers  to  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  other.  To  this  is  opposed  the  mention  of  the  night- 
ingale, 

'And  fill'd  each  pause  the  nightingale  had  made;' 

there  being  no  such  bird  in  the  island.  The  objection  is 
slighted,  on  the  other  hand,  by  considering  the  passage  as  a 
mere  poetical  license.  '  Besides, '  say  they,  'the  robin  is  the  Irish 
nightingale.'  And  if  it  be  hinted  how  unlikely  it  was  that 
Goldsmith  shoidd  have  laid  the  scene  in  a  place  from  which 
he  was  and  had  been  so  long  absent,  the  rejoinder  is  always, 
Pray,  sir,  was  Milton  in  hell  when  he  built  Pandemonium? ' 

' '  The  line  is  naturally  drawn  between ;  there  can  be  no 
doubt  that  the  poet  intended  England  by 

'  The  land  to  hastening  ills  a  prey, 
Where  wealth  accumulates  and  men  decay.' 

But  it  is  very  natural  to  suppose  that,  at  the  same  time,  his 
imagination  had  in  view  the  scenes  of  his  youth,  which  give 
such  strong  features  of  resemblance  to  the  picture." 


170  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

Best,  an  Irish  clergyman,  told  Davis,  the  traveller  in  Amer- 
ica, that  the  hawthorn-bush  mentioned  in  the  poem  was  still 
remarkably  large.  "  I  was  riding  once,"  said  he,  "  with  Brady, 
titular  Bishop  of  Ardagh,  when  he  observed  to  me,  '  Ma  f oy, 
Best,  this  huge  overgrown  bush  is  mightily  in  the  way.  I  will 
order  it  to  be  cut  down.'— 'What,  sir! '  replied  I,  '  cut  down  the 
bush  that  supplies  so  beautiful  an  image  in  "  The  Deserted  "Vil- 
lage"? ' — '  Ma  foy ! '  exclaimed  the  bishop,  '  is  that  the  hawthorn- 
bush?  Then  let  it  be  sacred  from  the  edge  of  the  axe,  and  evil 
be  to  him  that  should  cut  off  a  branch.'" — The  hawthorn-bush, 
however,  has  long  since  been  cut  up,  root  and  branch,  in  fur- 
nishing relics  to  literary  pilgrims. 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

THE  POET  AMONG  THE  LADIES— DESCRIPTION  OF  HIS  PERSON  AND 
MANNERS— EXPEDITION  TO  PARIS  WITH  THE  HORNECK  FAMILY 
— THE  TRAVELLER  OF  TWENTY  AND  THE  TRAVELLER  OF  FORTY 
— HICKEY,    THE  SPECIAL  ATTORNEY— AN  UNLUCKY  EXPLOIT. 

The  "Deserted  Village"  had  shed  an  additional  poetic  grace 
round  the  homely  person  of  the  author ;  he  was  becoming  more 
and  more  acceptable  in  ladies'  eyes,  and  finding  himself  more 
and  more  at  ease  in  their  society ;  at  least  in  the  society  of 
those  whom  he  met  in  the  Eeynolds  circle,  among  whom  he 
particularly  affected  the  beautiful  family  of  the  Hornecks. 

But  let  us  see  what  were  really  the  looks  and  manners  of 
Goldsmith  about  this  time,  and  what  right  he  had  to  aspire  to 
ladies'  smiles;  and  in  so  doing  lot  us  not  take  the  sketches  of 
Boswell  and  his  compeers,  who  had  a  propensity  to  represent 
him  in  caricature ;  but  let  us  take  the  apparently  truthful  and 
discriminating  picture  of  him  as  he  appeared  to  Judge  Day, 
when  the  latter  was  a  student  in  the  Temple. 

"In  person,"  says  the  judge,  "  he  was  short;  about  five  feet 
five  or  six  inches ;  strong,  but  not  heavy  in  make ;  rather  fair 
in  complexion,  with  brown  hair ;  such,  at  least,  as  could  be  dis- 
tinguished from  his  wig.  His  features  were  plain,  but  not  re- 
pulsive—certainly not  so  when  lighted  up  by  conversation. 
His  manners  were  simple,  natural,  and  perhaps  on  the  whole, 
we  may  say,  not  polished;  at  least  without  the  refinement  and 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  I7t 

good-breeding  which  the  exquisite  polish  of  his  compositions 
would  lead  us  to  expect.  He  was  always  cheerful  and  ani- 
mated, often,  indeed,  boisterous  in  his  mirth;  entered  with 
spirit  into  convivial  society ;  contributed  largely  to  its  enjoy- 
ments by  solidity  of  information,  and  the  naivete  and  origi- 
nality of  his  character;  talked  often  without  premeditation, 
and  laughed  loudly  without  restraint. " 

This,  it  will  be  recollected,  represents  him  as  he  appeared  to 
a  young  Templar,  who  probably  saw  him  only  in  Temple  coffee- 
houses, at  students'  quarters,  or  at  the  jovial  supper  parties 
given  at  the  poet's  own  chambers;  here,  of  course,  his  mind 
was  in  its  rough  dress ;  his  laugh  may  have  been  loud  and  his 
mirth  boisterous;  but  we  trust  aU  these  matters  became  soft- 
ened and  modified  when  he  found  himself  in  polite  drawing- 
rooms  and  in  female  society. 

But  what  say  the  ladies  themselves  of  him  ?  And  here,  fortu- 
nately, we  have  another  sketch  of  him,  as  he  appeared  at  the 
time  to  one  of  the  Horneck  circle ;  in  fact,  we  believe,  to  the 
Jessamy  Bride  herself.  After  admitting,  apparently  with 
some  reluctance,  that  "  he  was  a  very  plain  man,"  she  goes  on 
to  say,  ' '  but  had  he  been  much  more  so,  it  was  impossible  not 
to  love  and  respect  his  goodness  of  heart,  which  broke  out  on 
every  occasion.  His  benevolence  was  unquestionable,  and  his 
countenance  bore  every  trace  ofit:  no  one  that  knew  him  inti- 
mately could  avoid  admiring  and  loving  his  good  qualities." 
When  to  all  this  we  add  the  idea,  of  intellectual  delicacy  and 
refinement  associated  with  him  by  Ms  poetry  and  the  newly 
plucked  bays  that  were  flourishing  round  his  brow,  we  can- 
not be  surprised  that  fine  and  fashionable  ladies  should  be 
proud  of  his  attentions,  and  that  even  a  young  beauty  should 
not  be  altogether  displeased  with  the  thoughts  of  having  a 
man  of  his  genius  in  her  chains. 

"We  are  led  to  indulge  some  notions  of  the  kind  from  finding 
him  in  the  month  of  July,  but  a  few  weeks  after  the  publica- 
tion of  the  "Deserted  Village,"  setting  off  on  a  six  weeks'  ex- 
cursion to  Paris,  in  company  with  Mrs.  Horneck  and  her  two 
beautiful  daughters.  A  day  or  two  before  his  departure,  we 
find  another  new  gala  suit  charged  to  him  on  the  books  of  Mr. 
William  Filby.  Were  the  bright  eyes  of  the  Jessamy  Bride 
responsible  for  this  additional  extravagance  of  wardrobe  \ 
Goldsmith  had  recently  been  editing  the  works  of  Parnell; 
had  he  taken  courage  from  the  example  of  Edwin  in  the  fairy 
tale.'  — 


172  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

'  Yet  spite  of  all  that  nature  did 
To  make  bis  uncouth  form  forbid, 

This  creature  dared  to  love. 
He  felt  the  force  of  Edith's  eyes, 
Nor  wanted  hope  to  gain  the  prize 
Could  ladies  look  within " 

All  this  we  throw  out  as  mers  hints  and  surmises,  leaving  it 
to  our  readers  to  draw  their  own  conclusions.  It  will  he 
found,  however,  that  the  poet  was  subjected  to  shrewd  banter- 
ing among  bis  contemporaries  about  the  beautiful  Mary  Hor- 
neck,  and  that  he  was  extremely  sensitive  on  the  subject. 

It  was  in  the  month  of  June  that  he  set  out  for  Paris  with 
his  fair  companions,  and  the  following  letter  was  written  by 
him  to  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  soon  after  the  party  landed  at 
Calais : 

"My  dear  Friend:  We  had  a  very  quick  passage  from 
Dover  to  Calais,  wdiich  we  performed  in  three  hours  and 
twenty  minutes,  all  of  us  extremely  sea-sick,  which  must 
necessarily  have  happened,  as  my  machine  to  prevent  sea- 
sickness was  not  completed.  We  were  glad  to  leave  Dover, 
because  we  hated  to  be  imposed  upon:  so  were  in  high  spirits 
at  coming  to  Calais,  where  we  were  told  that  a  little  money 
would  go  a  great  way. 

"Upon  landing,  with  two  little  trunks,  which  was  all  we 
carried  with  us,  we  were  surprised  to  see  fourteen  or  fifteen 
fellows  all  running  down  to  the  ship  to  lay  their  hands  upon 
them;  four  got  under  each  trunk,  the  rest  surrounded  and 
held  the  hasps;  and  in  this  manner  our  little  baggage  was 
conducted,  with  a  kind  of  funeral  solemnity,  till  it  was  safely 
lodged  at  the  citstom-house.  We  were  well  enough  pleased 
with  the  people's  civility  till  they  came  to  be  paid ;  every  crea- 
ture that  had  the  happiness  of  but  touching  our  trunks  with 
their  finger  expected  sixpence;  and  they  had  so  pretty  and 
civil  a  manner  of  demanding  it,  that  there  was  no  refusing 
them. 

"  When  we  had  done  with  the  porters,  we  had  next  to  speak 
with  the  custom-house  officers,  who  had  their  pretty  civil 
way  too.  We  were  directed  to  the  Hotel  d'Angleterre,  where 
a  valet-de-place  came  to  offer  his  service,  and  spoke  to  me  ten 
minutes  before  I  once  found  out  that  he  was  speaking  English. 
We  had  no  occasion  for  his  services,  so  we  gave  him  a  little 
money  because  he  spoke  English,  and  because  he  wanted  it.  I 
cannot  help  mentioning  another  circumstance:  I  bought  a  new 


OLIVER  0  OLD  SMITH.  173 

ribbon  for  my  wig  at  Canterbury,  and  the  barber  at  Calais 
broke  it  in  order  to  gain  sixpence  by  buying  me  a  new  one." 

An  incident  which  occurred  in  the  course  of  this  tour  has 
been  tortured  by  that  literary  magpie,  Boswell,  into  a  proof 
of  Goldsmith's  absurd  jealousy  of  any  admiration  shown  to 
others  in  his  presence.  While  stopping  at  a  hotel  in  Lisle, 
they  were  drawn  to  the  windows  by  a  military  parade  in  front. 
The  extreme  beauty  of  the  Miss  Hornecks  immediately  at- 
tracted the  attention  of  the  officers,  who  broke  forth  with  en- 
thusiastic speeches' and  compliments  intended  for  their  ears. 
Goldsmith  was  amused  for  a  while,  but  at  length  affected  im- 
patience at  this  exclusive  admiration  of  his  beautiful  compan- 
ions, and  exclaimed,  with  mock  severity  of  aspect,  "Elsewhere 
I  also  would  have  my  admirers." 

It  is  difficult  to  conceive  the  obtuseness  of  intellect  necessary 
to  misconstrue  so  obvious  a  piece  of  mock  petulance  and  dry 
humor  into  an  instance  of  mortified  vanity  and  jealous  self- 
conceit. 

Goldsmith  jealous  of  the  admiration  of  a  group  of  gay  offi- 
cers for  the  charms  of  two  beautiful  young  women !  This  even 
out-Boswells  Boswell;  yet  this  is  but  one  of  several  similar 
absurdities,  evidently  misconceptions  of  Goldsmith's  peculiar 
vein  of  humor,  by  which  the  charge  of  envious  jealousy  has 
been  attempted  to  bo  fixed  upon  him.  In  the  present  instance 
it  was  contradicted  by  one  of  the  ladies  herself,  who  was  an- 
noyed that  it  had  been  advanced  against  him.  "I  am  sure," 
said  she,  "from  the  peculiar  manner  of  his  humor,  and  as- 
sumed frown  of  countenance,  what  was  often  uttered  in  jest 
was  mistaken,  by  those  who  did  not  know  him,  for  earnest." 
No  one  was  more  prone  to  err  on  this  point  than  Boswell.  Ho 
had  a  tolerable  perception  of  wit,  but  none  of  humor. 

The  following  letter  to  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  was  subse- 
quently written: 

"  To  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds. 

"  Taris,  July  29  (1770). 

"  My  dear  Friend:  I  began  a  long  letter  to  you  from  Lisle, 
giving  a  description  of  all  that  we  had  done  and  seen,  but, 
finding  it  very  dull,  and  knowing  that  you  would  show  it 
again,  I  threw  it  aside  and  it  was  lost.  You  see  by  the  top  of 
this  letter  that  we  are  at  Paris,  and  (as  I  have  often  heard  you 


174  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

say)  we  have  brought  our  own  amusement  with  us,  for  the 
ladies  do  not  seem  to  be  very  fond  of  what  we  have  yet 
seen. 

""With  regard  to  myself,  I  find  that  travelling  at  twenty  and 
forty  are  very  different  things.  I  set  out  with  all  my  con- 
firmed habits  about  me,  andean  find  nothing  on  the  Continent 
so  good  as  when  I  formerly  left  it.  One  of  our  chief  amuse- 
ments here  is  scolding  at  everything  we  meet  with,  and  prais- 
ing  everything  and  every  person  we  left  at  home.  You  may 
judge,  therefore,  whether  your  name  is  not  frequently  ban- 
died at  table  among  us.  To  tell  you  the  truth,  I  never  thought 
I  could  regret  your  absence  so  much  as  our  various  mortifica- 
tions on  the  road  have  taught  me  to  do.  I  could  tell  you  of 
disasters  and  adventures  without  number  ;  of  our  lying  in 
barns,  and  of  my  being  half  poisoned  with  a  dish  of  green  peas  ; 
of  our  quarrelling  with  postilions,  and  being  cheated  by  our 
landladies  ;  but  I  reserve  all  this  for  a  happy  hour  which  I 
expect  to  share  with  you  upon  my  return. 

"  I  have  little  to  tell  you  more  but  that  we  are  at  present  all 
well,  and  expect  returning  when  we  have  stayed  out  one 
month,  which  I  do  not  care  if  it  were  over  this  very  day.  I 
long  to  hear  from  you  all,  how  you  yourself  do,  how  Johnson 
Burke,  Dyer,  Chamier,  Colman,  and  every  one  of  the  club  do. 
I  wish  I  could  send  you  some  amusement  in  this  letter,  but  I 
protest  I  am  so  stupefied  by  the  air  of  this  country  (for  I  am 
sure  it  cannot  be  natural)  that  I  have  not  a  word  to  say.  I 
have  been  thinking  of  the  plot  of  a  comedy,  which  shall  be 
entitled  A  Journey  fo  Paris,  in  which  a  family  shall  be  intro- 
duced with  a  full  intention  of  going  to  France  to  save  money. 
You  know  there  is  not  a  place  in  the  world  more  promising 
for  that  purpose.  As  for  the  meat  of  this  country,  I  can 
scarce  eat  it  ;  and,  though  we  pay  two  good  shillings  a  head 
for  our  dinner,  I  found  it  all  so  tough  that  I  have  spent  less 
time  with  my  knife  than  my  picktooth.  I  said  this  as  a  good 
thing  at  the  table,  but  it  was  not  understood.  I  believe  it  to 
be  a  good  thing. 

"  As  for  our  intended  journey  to  Devonshire,  I  find  it  out  of 
my  power  to  perform  it ;  for,  as  soon  as  I  arrive  at  Dover, 
I  intend  to  let  the  ladies  go  on,  and  I  will  take  a  country 
lodging  somewhere  near  that  place  in  order  to  do  some  busi- 
ness. I  have  so  outrun  the  constable  that  I  must  mortify  a 
little  to  bring  it  up  agaiu.  For  God's  sake,  the  night  you  re- 
ceive this,  take  your  pen  in  your  hand  and  tell  me  something 
about  yourself  and  myself,   if   you    know   anything  that  has 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  ]  75 

happened.  About  Miss  Reynolds,  about  Mr.  Bickerstaff,  my 
nephew,  or  anybody  that  you  regard.  I  beg  you  will  send  to 
Griffin  the  bookseller  to  know  if  there  be  any  letters  left  for 
me,  and  be  so  good  as  to  send  them  to  me  at  Paris.  They  may 
perhaps  be  left  for  me  at  the  Porter's  Lodge,  opposite  the 
pump  in  Temple  Lane.  The  same  messenger  will  do.  I  ex- 
pect one  from  Lord  Clare,  from  Ireland.  As  for  the  others,  I 
am  not  much  uneasy  about. 

"  Is  there  anything  I  can  do  for  you  at  Paris?  I  wish  you 
would  tell  me.  The  whole  of  my  own  purchases  here  is  one 
silk  coat,  which  I  have  put  on,  and  which  makes  me  look  like 
a  fool.  But  no  more  of  that.  I  find  that  Colman  has  gained 
his  lawsuit.  I  am  glad  of  it.  I  suppose  you  often  meet.  I 
will  soon  be  among  you,  better  pleased  with  my  situation  at 
home  than  I  ever  was  before.  And  yet  I  must  say,  that  if 
anything  could  make  France  pleasant,  the  very  good  women 
with  whom  I  am  at  present  would  certainly  do  it.  I  could  say 
more  about  that,  but  I  intend  showing  them  the  letter  before  I 
send  it  away.  What  signifies  teasing  you  longer  with  moral 
observations,  when  the  business  of  my  writing  is  over?  I  have 
one  thing  only  more  to  say,  and  of  that  I  think  every  hour  in 
the  day,  namely  that  I  am  your  most  sincere  and  most  af- 
fectionate friend, 

"Oliver  Goldsmith. 

"  Direct  to  me  at  the  Hotel  de  Danemarc,  ! 
Rue  Jacob,  Fauxbourg  St.  Oermains."    J 


A  word  of  comment  on  this  letter : 

Travelling  is,  indeed,  a  very  different  thing  with  Goldsmith 
the  poor  student  at  twenty,  and  Goldsmith  the  poet  and  pro- 
fessor at  forty.  At  twenty,  though  obliged  to  trudge  on  foot 
from  town  to  town,  and  country  to  country,  paying  for  a  supper 
and  a  hed  by  a  tune  on  the  flute,  everything  pleased,  every- 
thing was  good ;  a  truckle  bed  in  a  garret  was  a  couch  of  down, 
and  the  homely  fare  of  the  peasant  a  feast  fit  for  an  epicure. 
Now,  at  forty,  when  he  posts  through  the  country  in  a  carriage, 
with  fair  ladies  by  his  side,  everything  goes  wrong :  he  has  to 
quarrel  with  postilions,  he  is  cheated  by  landladies,  the  hotels 
are  barns,  the  meat  is  too  tough  to  be  eaten,  and  he  is  half 
poisoned  by  green  peas !  A  line  in  his  letter  explains  the  secret : 
"the  ladies  do  not  seem  to  be  very  fond  of  what  we  have  yet 
seen."  "One  of  our  chief  amusements  is  scolding  at  every. 
thing  we  meet  with,  and  praising  everything  and  every  person 


176  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

we  have  left  at  home !"  the  true  English  travelling  amusement. 
Poor  Goldsmith!  he  has  "all  his  confirmed  habits  about  him;'1 
that  is  to  say,  he  has  recently  risen  into  high  life,  and  acquired 
high-bred  notions ;  he  must  be  fastidious  like  his  fellow-travel- 
lers; he  dare  not  be  pleased  with  what  pleased  the  vulgar 
tastes  of  his  youth.  He  is  unconsciously  illustrating  the  trait 
so  humorously  satirized  by  him  in  Ned  Tibbs,  the  shabby 
beau,  who  can  find  ' '  no  such  dressing  as  he  had  at  Lord 
Crump's  or  Lady  Crimp's;"  whose  very  senses  have  grown 
genteel,  and  who  no  longer  "smacks  at  wretched  wine  or 
praises  detestable  custard."  A  lurking  thorn,  too,  is  worrying 
him  throughout  this  tour;  he  has  "outrun  the  constable;" 
that  is  to  say,  his  expenses  have  outrun  his  means,  and  he 
will  have  to  make  up  for  this  butterfly  flight  by  toiling  like  a 
grub  on  his  return. 

Another  circumstance  contributes  to  mar  the  pleasure  he 
had  promised  himself  in  this  excursion.  At  Paris  the  party  is 
unexpectedly  joined  by  a  Mr.  Hickey,  a  bustling  attorney, 
who  is  well  acquainted  with  that  metropolis  and  its  environs, 
and  insists  on  playing  the  cicerone  on  all  occasions.  He  and 
Goldsmith  do  not  relish  each  other,  and  they  have  several 
petty  altercations.  The  lawyer  is  too  much  a  man  of  business 
and  method  for  the  careless  poet,  and  is  disposed  to  manage 
everything.  He  has  perceived  Goldsmith's  whimsical  pecu- 
liarities without  properly  appreciating  his  merits,  and  is  prone 
to  indulge  in  broad  bantering  and  raillery  at  his  expense,  par- 
ticularly irksome  if  indulged  in  presence  of  the  ladies.  He 
makes  himself  merry  on  his  return  to  England,  by  giving  the 
following  anecdote  as  illustrative  of  Goldsmith's  vanity : 

"Being  with  a  party  at  Versailles,  viewing  the  waterworks, 
a  question  arose  among  the  gentlemen  present,  whether  the 
distance  from  whence  they  stood  to  one  of  the  little  islands 
was  within  the  compass  of  a  leap.  Goldsmith  maintained  the 
affirmative;  but,  being  bantered  on  the  subject,  and  remem- 
bering his  former  prowess  as  a  youth,  attempted  the  leap,  but, 
falling  short,  descended  into  the  water,  to  the  great  amuse- 
ment of  the  company." 

Was  the  Jessamy  Bride  a  witness  of  this  unlucky  exploit? 

This  same  Hickey  is  the  one  of  whom  Goldsmith,  some  time 
subsequently,  gave  a  good-humored  sketch,  in  his  poem  of 
"The  Retaliation." 

"  Here  Hickey  reclines,  a  most  blunt,  pleasant  creature. 
And  slander  itself  must  allow  him  good  nature; 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  177 

He  cherish'd  his  friend,  and  he  relish'd  a  bumper, 

Yet  oue  fault  he  had,  and  that  one  was  a  thumper. 

Perhaps  you  may  ask  if  the  man  was  a  miser; 

I  answer  No,  no,  for  he  always  was  wiser; 

Too  courteous,  perhaps,  or  obligingly  flat, 

His  very  worst  foe  can't  accuse  him  of  that; 

Perhaps  he  confided  in  men  as  they  go, 

And  so  was  too  foolishly  honest?    Ah,  no! 

Then  what  was  his  failing?    Come,  tell  it,  and  burn  ye — 

He  was,  could  he  help  it?  a  special  attorney." 

One  of  the  few  remarks  extant  made  by  Goldsmith  during 
his  tour  is  the  following,  of  whimsical  import,  in  his  "Ani- 
mated Nature." 

"In  going  through  the  towns  of  France,  some  time  since,  I 
coidd  not  help  observing  how  much  plainer  their  parrots  spoke 
than  ours,  and  how  very  distinctly  I  understood  their  parrots 
speak  French,  when  I  could  not  understand  our  own,  though 
they  spoke  my  native  language.  I  at  first  ascribed  it  to  the 
different  qualities  of  the  two  languages,  and  was  for  entering 
into  an  elaborate  discussion  on  the  vowels  and  consonants ;  but 
a  friend  that  was  with  me  solved  the  difficulty  at  once,  by  as- 
suring me  that  the  French  women  scarce  did  anything  else  the 
whole  day  than  sit  and  instruct  their  feathered  pupils ;  and 
that  the  birds  were  thus  distinct  in  their  lessons  in  consequence 
of  continual  schooling." 

His  tour  does  not  seem  to  have  left  in  his  memory  the 
most  fragrant  recollections ;  for,  being  asked,  after  bis  return, 
whether  travelling  on  the  Continent  repaid  "an  Englishman 
for  the  privations  and  annoyances  attendant  on  it,"  he  replied, 
' '  I  recommend  it  by  all  means  to  the  sick  if  they  are  without 
the  sense  of  smelling,  and  to  the  poor  if  they  are  without  the 
sense  of  feeling ;  and  to  both  if  they  can  discharge  from  their 
minds  all  idea  of  what  in  England  we  term  comfort. " 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  the  universal  improvement  in  the 
art  of  living  on  the  Continent  has  at  the  present  day  taken 
away  the  force  of  Goldsmith's  reply,  though  even  at  the  time 
it  was  more  humorous  than  correct. 


178  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

DEATH  OF  GOLDSMITH'S  MOTHER — BIOGRAPHY  OP  PARNELL— 
AGREEMENT  WITH  DAVIES  FOR  THE  HISTORY  OF  ROME— LIFE 
OF  BOLINGBROKE — THE  HAUNCH  OF  VENISON. 

On  his  return  to  England,  Goldsmith  received  the  melan- 
choly tidings  of  the  death  of  his  mother.  Notwithstanding 
the  fame  as  an  author  to  which  he  had  attained,  she  seems  to 
have  been  disappointed  in  her  early  expectations  from  him. 
Like  others  of  his  family,  she  had  been  more  vexed  by  his 
early  follies  than  pleased  by  his  proofs  of  genius ;  and  in  sub- 
sequent years,  when  he  had  risen  to  fame  and  to  intercourse 
with  the  great,  had  been  annoyed  at  the  ignorance  of  the 
world  and  want  of  management,  which  prevented  him  from 
pushing  his  fortune.  He  had  always,  however,  been  an  affec- 
tionate son,  and  in  the  latter  years  of  her  life,  when  she  had 
become  blind,  contributed  from  his  precarious  resources  to  pre- 
vent her  from  feeling  want. 

He  now  resumed  the  labors  of  the  pen,  which  his  recent  ex- 
cursion to  Paris  rendered  doubly  necessary.  We  should  have 
mentioned  a  "Life  of  Parnell,"  published  by  him  shortly  after 
the  "  Deserted  Village."  It  was,  as  usual,  a  piece  of  job  work, 
hastily  got  up  for  pocket-money.  Johnson  spoke  slightingly 
of  it,  and  the  author,  himself,  thought  proper  to  apologize  for 
its  meagreness;  yet,  in  so  doing,  used  a  simile,  which  for 
beauty  of  imagery  and  felicity  of  language,  is  enough  of  itself 
to  stamp  a  value  upon  the  essay. 

"  Such,"  says  he,  "is  the  very  unpoetical  detail  of  the  life  of 
a  poet.  Some  dates  and  some  few  facts,  scarcely  more  in- 
teresting than  those  that  make  the  ornaments  of  a  country 
tombstone,  are  all  that  remain  of  one  whose  labors  now  begin 
to  excite  universal  curiosity.  A  poet,  while  living,  is  seldom 
an  object  sufficiently  great  to  attract  much  attention ;  his  real 
merits  are  known  but  to  a  few,  and  these  are  generally  sparing 
in  their  praises.  When  his  fame  is  increased  by  time,  it  is 
then  too  late  to  investigate  the  peculiarities  of  his  disposition : 
the  dews  of  morning  are  past,  and  ive  vainly  try  to  continue  the 
chase  by  the  meridian  splendor. " 

He  now  entered  into  an  agreement  with  Davies  to  prepare 
an  abridgment,  in  one  volume  duodecimo,  of  his  History  of 
Rome;  but  first  to  write  a  work  for  which  there  was  a  more 


OLIVE  11   GOLDSMITH.  J  70 

immediate  demand.  Davies  was  about  to  republish  Lord 
Bolingbroke's  "Dissertation  on  Parties,"  which  he  conceived 
would  be  exceedingly  applicable  to  the  affairs  of  the  day,  and 
make  a  probable  hit  during  the  existing  state  of  violent  poli- 
tical excitement ;  to  give  it  still  greater  effect  and  currencj'  he 
engaged  Goldsmith  to  introduce  it  with  a  prefatory  life  of  Lord 
Bolingbroke. 

About  this  time  Goldsmith's  friend  and  countryman  Lord 
Clare,  was  in  great  affliction,  caused  by  the  death  of  his  only 
son,  Colonel  Nugent,  and  stood  in  need  of  the  sympathies  of  a 
kind-hearted  friend.  At  his  request,  therefore,  Goldsmith 
paid  him  a  visit  at  his  noble  seat  of  Gosfield,  taking  his  tasks 
with  him.  Davies  was  in  a  worry  lest  Gosfield  Park  shoidd 
prove  a  Capua  to  the  poet,  and  the  time  be  lost.  "Dr.  Gold- 
smith," writes  he  to  a  friend,  "  has  gone  with  Lord  Clare  into 
the  country,  and  I  am  plagued  to  get  the  proofs  from  him  of 
the  Life  of  Lord  Bolingbroke. "  The  proofs,  however,  were 
furnished  in  time  for  the  publication  of  the  work  in  December. 
The  Biography,  though  written  during  a  time  of  political 
turmoil,  and  introducing  a  work  intended  to  be  thrown  into 
the  arena  of  politics,  maintained  that  freedom  from  party  pre- 
judice observable  in  all  the  writings  of  Goldsmith.  It  was  a 
selection  of  facts  drawn  from  many  unreadable  sources,  and 
arranged  into  a  clear,  flowing  narrative,  illustrative  of  the 
career  and  character  of  one  who,  as  he  intimates,  ' '  seemed 
formed  by  nature  to  take  delight  in  struggling  with  opposi- 
tion ;  whose  most  agreeable  hours  were  passed  in  storms  of  his 
own  creating ;  whose  life  was  spent  in  a  continual  conflict  of 
politics,  and  as  if  that  was  too  short  for  the  combat,  has  left 
his  memory  as  a  subject  of  lasting  contention."  The  sum 
received  by  the  author  for  this  memoir,  is  supposed,  from 
circumstances,  to  have  been  forty  pounds. 

Goldsmith  did  not  find  the  residence  among  the  great  unat- 
tended with  mortifications.  He  had  now  become  accustomed 
to  be  regarded  in  London  as  a  literary  lion,  and  was  annoyed, 
at  what  he  considered  a  slight,  on  the  part  of  Lord  Camden. 
He  complained  of  it  on  his  return  to  town  at  a  party  of  his 
friends.  "I  met  him,"  said  he,  "at  Lord  Clare's  house  in  the 
country ;  and  he  took  no  more  notice  of  me  than  if  I  had  been 
an  ordinary  man."  "The  company,"  says  Boswell,  " laughed 
heartily  at  this  piece  of  'diverting  simplicity.'"  And  fore- 
most among  the  laughers  was  doubtless  the  rattle-pated  Bos- 
welL    Johnson,  however,  stepped  forward,  as  usual,  to  defend 


180  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

the  poet,  whom  he  would  allow  no  one  to  assail  but  himself ; 
perhaps  in  the  present  instance  he  thought  the  dignity  of 
literature  itself  involved. in  the  question.  "  Nay,  gentlemen," 
roared  he,  "Dr.  Goldsmith  is  in  the  right.  A  nobleman  ought 
to  have  made  up  to  such  a  man  as  Goldsmith,  and  I  think  it  is 
much  against  Lord  Camden  that  he  neglected  him." 

After  Goldsmith's  return  to  town  he  received  from  Lord 
Clare  a  present  of  game,  which  he  has  celebrated  and  perpetu- 
ated in  his  amusing  verses  entitled  the  "  Haunch  of  Venison." 
Some  of  the  lines  pleasantly  set  forth  the  embarrassment 
caused  by  the  appearance  of  such  an  aristocratic  delicacy  in 
the  humble  kitchen  of  a  poet,  accustomed  to  look  up  to  mutton 
as  a  treat : 

"  Thanks,  my  lord,  for  .your  venison;  for  finer  or  fatter 
Never  rang  d  in  a  forest,  or  smok'd  in  a  plattr.r: 
The  haunch  was  a  picture  for  painters  to  study, 
The  fat  was  so  white,  and  the  lean  was  so  ruddy ; 
Though  my  stomach  was  sharp,  I  could  scarce  help  regretting, 
To  spoil  such  a  delicate  picture  by  eating: 
I  had  thought  in  my  chambers  to  place  it  in  view, 
To  be  shown  to  my  friends  as  a  piece  of  virtu: 
As  in  some  Irish  houses  where  things  are  so-so, 
One  gammon  of  bacon  hangs  up  for  a  show; 
But,  for  eating  a  rasher,  of  what  they  take  pride  in, 
They'd  as  soon  think  of  eating  the  pan  it  was  fry'd  in, 

*****  * 

But  hang  it— to  poets,  who  seldom  can  eat, 
Your  very  good  mutton's  a  very  good  treat; 
Such  dainties  to  them,  their  health  it  might  hurt; 
It's  like  sending  them  ruffles,  when  wanting  a  shirt." 

We  have  an  amusing  anecdote  of  one  of  Goldsmith's  blun- 
ders which  took  place  on  a  subsequent  visit  to  Lord  Clare's, 
when  that  nobleman  was  residing  in  Bath. 

Lord  Clare  and  the  Duke  of  Northumberland  had  houses 
next  to  each  other,  of  similar  architecture.  Returning  home 
one  morning  from  an  early  walk,  Goldsmith,  in  one  of  his  fre- 
quent fits  of  absence,  mistook  the  house,  and  walked  up  into 
the  duke's  dining-room,  where  he  and  the  duchess  were  about 
to  sit  down  to  breakfast.  Goldsmith,  still  supposing  himself 
in  the  house  of  Lord  Clare,  and  that  they  were  visitors,  made 
them  an  easy  salutation,  being  acquainted  with  them,  and 
threw  himself  on  a  sofa  in  the  lounging  manner  of  a  man  per- 
fectly at  home.  The  duke  and  duchess  soon  perceived  his 
mistake,  and,  while  they  smiledlnternaliy,  endeavored,  with 
the  considerateness  of  well-bred  people,  to  prevent  any  awk 
ward  embarrassment.    They  accordingly  cbatted  sociably  with 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  ]81 

him  about  matters  in  Bath,  until,  breakfast  being  served,  they 
invited  him  to  partake.  The  truth  at  once  flashed  upon  poor 
heedless  Goldsmith;  he  started  up  from  his  free-and-easy  posi- 
tion, made  a  confused  apology  for  his  blunder,  and  would  have 
retired  perfectly  disconcerted,  had  not  the  duke  and  duchess 
treated  the  whole  as  a  lucky  occurrence  to  throw  him  in  their 
way,  and  exacted  a  promise  from  him  to  dine  with  them. 

This  may  be  hung  up  as  a  companion-piece  to  his  blunder  on 
his  first  visit  to  Northumberland  House. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

DINNER  AT  THE  ROYAL  ACADEMY— THE  ROWLEY  CONTROVERSY — 
HORACE  WALPOLE'S  CONDUCT  TO  CHATTERTON— JOHNSON  AT 
REDCLIFFE  CHURCH — GOLDSMITH'S  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND  — 
DAVIES'S  CRITICISM — LETTER  TO  BENNET  LANGTON. 

On  St.  George's  day  of  this  year  (1771),  the  first  annual  ban- 
quet of  the  Eoyal  Academy  was  held  in  the  exhibition  room ; 
the  walls  of  which  were  covered  with  works  of  art,  about  to  be 
submitted  to  public  inspection.  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  who  first 
suggested  this  elegant  festival,  presided  in  his  official  character ; 
Drs.  Johnson  and  Goldsmith,  of  course,  were  present,  as  pro- 
fessors of  the  academy ;  and  beside  the  academicians,  there  was 
a  large  number  of  the  most  distinguished  men  of  the  day  as 
guests.  Goldsmith  on  this  occasion  drew  on  himself  the  atten- 
tion of  the  company  by  launching  out  with  enthusiasm  on  the 
poems  recently  given  to  the  world  by  Chatterton  as  the  works 
of  an  ancient  author  by  the  name  of  Rowley,  discovered  in.  the 
tower  of  Redcliffe  Church,  at  Bristol.  Goldsmith  spoke  of  them 
with  rapture,  as  a  treasure  of  old  English  poetry.  This  imme- 
diately raised  the  question  of  their  authenticity ;  they  having 
been  pronounced  a  forgery  of  Chatterton's.  Goldsmith  Avas 
warm  for  their  being  genuine.  When  he  considered,  he  said, 
the  merit  of  the  poetry ;  the  acquaintance  with  life  and  the 
human  heart  displayed  in  them,  the  antique  quaintness  of  the 
language  and  the  familiar  knowledge  of  historical  events  of 
their  supposed  day,  he  could  not  believe  it  possible  they  could 
be  the  work  of  a  boy  of  sixteen,  of  narroAv  education,  and  con- 
fined to  the  duties  of  an  attorney's  office.  They  must  be  the 
productions  of  Rowley. 


182  OLIVER   GOLD  SMI  TIL 

Johnson,  who  was  a  stout  unbeliever  in  Rowley,  as  he  had 
been  in  Ossian,  rolled  in  his  chair  and  laughed  at  the  enthusi- 
asm of  Goldsmith.  Horace  Walpole,  who  sat  near  by,  joined 
in  the  laugh  and  jeer  as  soon  as  he  found  that  the  "trouvaille,'''' 
as  he  called  it,  "of  his  friend  Chatterton"  was  in  question. 
This  matter,  which  had  excited  the  simple  admiration  of  Gold- 
smith, was  no  novelty  to  him,  he  said.  ' '  He  might,  had  he 
pleased,  have  had  the  honor  of  ushering  the  great  discovery  to 
the  learned  world."  And  so  he  might,  had  he  followed  his  first 
impulse  in  the  matter,  for  he  himself  had  been  an  original  be- 
liever ;  had  pronounced  some  specimen  verses  sent  to  him  by 
Chatterton  wonderful  for  their  harmony  and  spirit ;  and  had 
been  ready  to  print  them  and  publish  them  to  the  world  with 
his  sanction.  When  he  found,  however,  that  his  unknown  cor- 
respondent was  a  mere  boy,  humble  hi  sphere  and  indigent  in 
circumstances,  and  when  Gray  and  Mason  pronounced  the 
poems  forgeries,  he  had  changed  his  whole  coiKhict  toward  the 
unfortunate  author,  and  by  his  neglect  and  coldness  had  dashed 
all  his  sanguine  hopes  to  the  ground. 

Exulting  in  his  superior  discernment,  this  cold-hearted  man 
of  society  now  went  on  to  divert  himself,  as  he  says,  with  the 
credulity  of  Goldsmith,  whom  he  was  accustomed  to  pronounce 
"an  inspired  idiot;"  but  his  mirth  was  soon  dashed,  for  on  ask- 
ing the  poet  what  had  become  of  this  Chatterton,  he  was  an- 
swered, doubtless  in  the  feeling  tone  of  one  who  had  experi- 
enced the  pangs  of  despondent  genius,  that  ' '  he  had  been  to 
London  and  had  destroyed  himself." 

The  reply  struck  a  pang  of  self-reproach  even  to  the  cold 
heart  of  Walpole ;  a  faint  blush  may  have  visited  his  cheek  at 
his  recent  levity.  "The  persons  of  honor  and  veracity  who 
were  present,"  said  he  in  after  years,  when  he  found  it  neces- 
sary to  exculpate  himself  from  the  charge  of  heartless  neg- 
lect of  genius,  "will  attest  with  what  surprise  and  concern 
1  thus  first  heard  of  his  death."  Well  might  he  feel  concern, 
flis  cold  neglect  had  doubtless  contributed  to  madden  the  spirit 
>f  that  youthful  genius,  and  hurry  him  toward  his  untimely 
end ;  nor  have  all  the  excuses  and  palliations  of  Walpole's 
friends  and  admirers  been  ever  able  entirely  to  clear  this 
stigma  from  his  fame. 

But  what  was  there  in  the  enthusiasm  and  credulity  of  hon- 
est Goldsmith  in  this  matter,  to  Tsubject  him  to  the  laugh  of 
Johnson  or  the  raillery  of  Walpole?  Granting  the  poems  were 
not  ancient,  were  they  not  good  ?    Granting  they  were  not  the 


OLIVER  G  0LD3MIT1L  J  83 

productions  of  Rowley,  were  they  the  less  admirable  for  being 
the  productions  of  Chatterton?  Johnson  irimself  testified  to 
their  merits  and  the  genius  of  their  composer  when,  some  years 
afterward,  he  visited  the  tower  of  Redcliffe  Church,  and  was 
shown  the  coffer  in  which  poor  Chatterton  had  pretended  to 
find  them.  "  This,"  said  he,  "is  the  most  extraordinary  young 
man  that  has  encountered  my  knowledge.  It  is  wonderful  how 
the  whelp  has  written  such  things. " 

As  to  Goldsmith,  he  persisted  in  his  credidity,  and  had  sub- 
sequently a  dispute  with  Dr.  Percy  on  the  subject,  which  in- 
terrupted and  almost  destroyed  their  friendship.  After  all,  his 
enthusiasm  Avas  of  a  generous,  poetic  kind ;  the  poems  remain 
beautiful  monuments  of  genius,  and  it  is  even  now  difficult  to 
persuade  one's  self  that  they  could  be  entirely  the  production 
of  a  youth  of  sixteen. 

In  the  month  of  August  was  published  anonymously  the  His- 
tory of  England,  on  which  Goldsmith  had  been  for  some  time 
employed.  It  was  in  four  volumes,  compiled  chiefly,  as  he  ac- 
knowledged in  the  preface,  from  Rapin,  Carte,  Smollett,  and 
Hume,  "each  of  whom,"  says  he,  "have  their  admirers,  in 
proportion  as  the  reader  is  studious  of  political  antiquities, 
fond  of  minute  anecdote,  a  warm  partisan,  or  a  deliberate  rea- 
soner."  It  possessed  the  same  kind  of  merit  as  his  other  his- 
torical compilations ;  a  clear,  succinct  narrative,  a  simple,  easy, 
and  graceful  style,  and  an  agreeable  arrangement  of  facts ;  but 
was  not  remarkable  for  either  depth  of  observation  or  minute 
accuracy  of  research.  Many  passages  were  transferred,  with 
little  if  any  alteration,  from  his  "Letters  from  a  Nobleman  to 
his  Son"  on  the  same  subject.  The  work,  though  written  with- 
out party  feeling,  met  with  sharp  animadversions  from  political 
scribblers.  The  writer  was  charged  with  being  unfriendly  to 
liberty,  disposed  to  elevate  monarchy  above  its  proper  sphere ; 
a  tool  of  ministers ;  one  who  would  betray  his  country  for  a 
pension.  Tom  Davies,  the  publisher,  the  pompous  little  bibli- 
opole of  Russell  Street,  alarmed  lest  the  book  should  prove 
unsalable,  undertook  to  protect  it  by  his  pen,  and  wrote  a  long 
article  in  its  defence  in  The  Public  Advertiser.  He  was  vain  of 
Iris  critical  effusion,  and  sought  by  nods  and  winks  and  innuen- 
does to  intimate  his  authorship.  "Have  you  seen,"  said  he  in  a 
letter  to  a  friend,  "  '  An  Impartial  Account  of  Goldsmith's  His- 
tory of  England '  ?  If  you  want  to  know  who  was  the  writer  of 
it,  you  will  find  him  in  Russell  Street ;— bu t  mum ! " 

The  history,  on  the  whole,  however,  was  well  received ;  some 


184  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

of  the  critics  declared  that  English  history  had  never  before 
been  so  usefully,  so  elegantly,  and  agreeably  epitomized,  "and, 
like  his  other  historical  writings,  it  has  kept  its  ground  "  in 
English  literature. 

Goldsmith  had  intended  this  summer,  in  company  with  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds,  to  pay  a  visit  to  Bennet  Langton,  at  his  seat 
in  Lincolnshire,  where  he  was  settled  in  domestic  life,  having 
the  year  previously  married  the  Countess  Dowager  of  Rothes. 
The  following  letter,  however,  dated  from  his  chambers  in  the 
Temple,  on  the  7th  of  September,  apologizes  for  putting  off  the 
visit,  while  it  gives  an  amusing  account  of  his  summer  occu- 
pations and  of  the  attacks  of  the  critics  on  his  History  of  Eng- 
land : 

"  My  dear  Sir:  Since  I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  last, 
I  have  been  almost  wholly  in  the  country,  at  a  farmer's  house, 
quite  alone,  trying  to  write  a  comedy.  It  is  now  finished ;  but 
when  or  how  it  will  be  acted,  or  whether  it  will  be  acted  at  all, 
are  questions  I  cannot  resolve.  I  am  therefore  so  much  em- 
ployed upon  that,  that  I  am  under  the  necessity  of  putting  off 
my  intended  visit  to  Lincolnshire  for  this  season.  Reynolds  is 
just  returned  from  Paris,  and  finds  himself  now  in  the  case  of 
a  truant  that  must  make  up  for  his  idle  time  by  diligence. 
We  have  therefore  agreed  to  postpone  our  journey  till  next 
summer,  when  we  hope  to  have  the  honor  of  waiting  upon 
Lady  Rothes  and  you,  and  staying  double  the  time  of  our  late 
intended  visit.  We  often  meet,  and  never  without  remember- 
ing you.  I  see  Mr.  Beauclerc  very  often  both  in  town  and 
country.  He  is  now  going  directly  forward  to  become  a  second 
Boyle ;  deep  in  chemistry  and  physics.  Johnson  has  been  down 
on  a  visit  to  a  country  parson,  Doctor  Taylor;  and  is  returned 
to  his  old  haunts  at  Mrs.  Thrale's.  Burke  is  a  farmer,  en  atten- 
dant a  better  place;  but  visiting  about  too.  Every  soul  is 
visiting  about  and  merry  but  myself.  And  that  is  hard  too,  as 
I  have  been  trying  these  three  months  to  do  something  to  make 
people  laugh.  There  have  I  been  strolling  about  the  hedges, 
studying  jests  with  a  most  tragical  countenance.  The  Natural 
History  is  about  half  finished,  and  I  will  shortly  finish  the  rest. 
God  knows  I  am  tired  of  this  kind  of  finishing,  which  is  but 
bungling  work :  and  that  not  so  much  my  fault  as  the  fault  of 
my  scurvy  circumstances.  They  begin  to  talk  in  town  of  the 
Opposition's  gaining  ground ;  the  cry  of  liberty  is  still  as  loud 
as  ever.     I  have  published,  or  Davies  has  published  for  me.  an 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  j  g/J 

'Abridgment  of  the  History  of  England,'  for  which  I  have 
been  a  good  deal  abused  in  the  newspapers,  for  betraying  the 
liberties  of  the  people.  God  knows  I  had  no  thought  for  or 
against  liberty  in  my  head ;  my  whole  aim  being  to  make  up  a 
book  of  a  decent  size,  that,  as  'Squire  Richard  says,  would  do  no 
harm  to  nobody.  However,  they  set  me  down  as  an  arrant 
Tory,  and  consequently  an  honest  man.  When  you  come  to 
look  at  any  part  of  it,  you'll  say  that  I  am  a  sore  Whig.  God 
bless  you,  and  with  my  most  respectful  compliments  to  her 
Ladyship,  I  remain,  dear  Sir,  your  most  affectionate  humble 
servant, 


u 


Oliver  Goldsmith." 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

MARRIAGE  OF  LITTLE  COMEDY —GOLDSMITH  AT  BARTON — PRACTI- 
CAL JOKES  AT  THE  EXPENSE  OF  HIS  TOILET — AMUSEMENTS  AT 
BARTON — AQUATIC  MISADVENTURE. 

Though  Goldsmith  found  it  impossible  to  break  from  his 
literary  occupations  to  visit  Bennet  Langton,  in  Lincolnshire, 
he  soon  yielded  to  attractions  from  another  quarter,  in  which 
somewhat  of  sentiment  may  have  mingled.  Miss  Catherine 
Horneck,  one  of  his  beautiful  fellow-travellers,  otherwise  called 
Little  Comedy,  had  been  married  in  August  to  Henry  Wilhani 
Bunbury ,  Esq. ,  a  gentleman  of  fortune,  who  has  become  cele- 
brated for  the  humorous  productions  of  his  pencil.  Goldsmith 
was  shortly  afterward  invited  to  pay  the  newly  married  couple 
a  visit  at  their  seat  at  Barton,  in  Suffolk.  How  could  he  re- 
sist such  an  invitation— especially  as  the  Jessamy  Bride  would, 
of,  course,  be  among  the  guests?  It  is  true,  he  was  hampered 
with  work ;  he  was  still  more  hampered  with  debt ;  his  accounts 
with  Newbery  were  perplexed  -  but  all  must  give  way.  New 
advances  are  procured  from  Newbery,  on  the  promise  of  a  new 
tale  in  the  style  of  the  Vicar  of  Wakefield,  of  which  he  showed 
him  a  few  roughly -sketched  chapters ;  so,  his  purse  replenished 
in  the  old  way,  "  by  hook  or  by  crook,"  he  posted  off  to  visit 
the  bride  at  Barton.  He  found  there  a  joyous  household,  and 
one  where  he  was  welcomed  with  affection.  Garrick  was 
there,  and  played  the  part  of  master  of  the  revels,  for  he  was 


186  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

an  intimate  friend  of  the  master  of  the  house.  Notwithstand- 
ing early  misunderstandings,  a  social  intercourse  between  the 
actor  and  the  poet  had  grown  up  of  late,  from  meeting  together 
continually  in  the  same  circle.  A  few  particulars  have  reached 
us  concerning  Goldsmith  while  on  this  happy  visit.  We  be- 
lieve the  legend  has  come  down  from  Miss  Mary  Horneck  her- 
self. "While  at  Barton,"  she  says,  "  his  manners  were  always 
playful  and  amusing,  taking  the  lead  in  promoting  any  scheme 
of  innocent  mirth,  and  usually  prefacing  the  invitation  with 
'  Come,  now,  let  us  play  the  fool  a  little.'  At  cards,  which  was 
commonly  a  round  game,  and  the  stake  small,  he  was  always 
the  most  noisy,  affected  great  eagerness  to  win,  and  teased  his 
opponents  of  the  gentler  sex  with  continual  jest  and  banter  on 
their  want  of  spirit  in  not  risking  the  hazards  of  the  game. 
But  one  of  his  most  favorite  enjoyments  was  to  romp  with  the 
children,  when  he  threw  off  all  reserve,  and  seemed  one  of  the 
most  joyous  of  the  group. 

"  One  of  the  means  by  which  he  amused  us  was  his  songs, 
chiefly  of  the  comic  kind,  which  were  sung  with  some  taste 
and  humor;  several,  I  believe,  were  of  his  own  composition, 
and  I  regret  that  I  neither  have  copies,  which  might  have  been 
readily  procured  from  him  at  the  time,  nor  do  I  remember  their 
names." 

His  perfect  good  humor  made  him  the  object  of  tricks  of  all 
kinds ;  often  in  retaliation  of  some  prank  which  he  himself  had 
played  off.  Unluckily  these  tricks  were  sometimes  made  at 
the  expense  of  his  toilet,  which,  with  a  view  peradventure  to 
please  the  eye  of  a  certain  fair  lady,  he  had  again  enriched  to 
the  impoverishment  of  his  purse.  ' '  Being  at  all  times  gay  in 
his  dress,"  says  this  ladylike  legend,  "  he  made  his  appearance 
at  the  breakfast-table  in  a  smart  black  silk  coat  with  an  expen- 
sive pair  of  ruffles ;  the  coat  some  one  contrived  to  soil,  and  it 
was  sent  to  be  cleansed ;  but,  either  by  accident,  or  probably 
by  design,  the  day  after  it  came  home,  the  sleeves  became 
daubed  with  paint,  which  was  not  discovered  until  the  ruffles 
also,  to  his  great  mortification,  were  irretrievably  disfigured. 

"  He  always  wore  a  wig,  a  peculiarity  which  those  who  judge 
of  his  appearance  only  from  the  fine  poetical  head  of  Eeynolds 
would  not  suspect ;  and  on  one  occasion  some  person  contrived 
seriously  to  injure  this  important  adjunct  to  dress.  It  was  the 
only  one  he  had  in  the  country,  and  the  misfortune  seemed  ir- 
reparable until  the  services  of  Mr.  Bunbury's  valet  were  called 
in,  who,  however,  performed  his  functions  so  indifferently  that 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  187 

poor  Goldsmith's  appearance  became  the  signal  for  a  general 
smile. " 

This  was  wicked  waggery,  especially  when  it  was  directed  to 
mar  all  the  attempts  of  the  unfortunate  poet  to  improve  his 
personal  appearance,  about  which  he  was  at  all  times  dubiously 
sensitive,  and  particularly  when  among  the  ladies. 

We  have  in  a  former  chapter  recorded  his  unlucky  tumble 
into  a  fountain  at  Versailles,  when  attempting  a  feat  of  agility 
in  presence  of  the  fair  Hornecks.  Water  was  destined  to  be 
equally  baneful  to  him  on  the  present  occasion.  ' '  Some  differ- 
ence of  opinion,"  says  the  fair  narrator,  "having  arisen  with 
Lord  Harrington  respecting  the  depth  of  a  pond,  the  poet  re- 
marked that  it  was  not  so  deep  but  that,  if  anything  valuable 
was  to  be  found  at  the  bottom,  he  would  not  hesitate  to  pick  it 
up.  His  lordship,  after  some  banter,  threw  in  a  guinea ;  Gold- 
smith, not  to  be  outdone  in  this  kind  of  bravado,  hi  attempting 
to  fulfil  his  promise  without  getting  wet,  accidentally  fell  in, 
to  the  amusement  of  all  present,  but  persevered,  brought  out 
the  money,  and  kept  it,  remarking  that  he  had  abundant  ob- 
jects on  whom  to  bestow  any  farther  proofs  of  his  lordship's 
whim  or  bounty." 

All  this  is  recorded  by  the  beautiful  Mary  Horneck,  the  Jes- 
samy  Bride  herself ;  but  while  she  gives  these  amusing  pictures 
of  poor  Goldsmith's  eccentricities,  and  of  the  mischievous 
pranks  played  off  upon  him,  she  bears  unqualified  testimony, 
which  we  have  quoted  elsewhere,  to  the  qualities  of  his  head 
and  heart,  which  shone  forth  in  his  countenance,  and  gained 
him  the  love  of  all  who  knew  him. 

Among  the  circumstances  of  this  visit  vaguely  called  to  mind 
by  this  fair  lady  in  after  years,  was  that  Goldsmith  read  to  her 
and  her  sister  the  first  part  of  a  novel  which  he  had  in  hand. 
It  was  doubtless  the  manuscript  mentioned  at  the  beginning  of 
this  chapter,  on  which  he  had  obtained  an  advance  of  money 
from  Newbery  to  stave  off  some  pressing  debts,  and  to  provide 
funds  for  this  very  visit.  It  never  was  finished.  The  book- 
seller, when  he  came  afterward  to  examine  the  manuscript, 
objected  to  it  as  a  mere  narrative  version  of  the  Good-Natured 
Man.  Goldsmith,  too  easily  put  out  of  conceit  of  his  writings, 
threw  it  aside,  forgetting  that  this  was  the  very  Newbery  who 
kept  his  Vicar  of  Wakefield  by  him  nearly  two  years  through 
doubts  of  its  success.  The  loss  of  the  manuscript  is  deeply  to 
be  regretted;  it  doubtless  would  have  been  properly  wrought 
up  before  given  to  the  press,  and  might  have  given  us  new 


188  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

scenes  in  life  and  traits  of  character,  while  it  could  not  fail  to 
bear  traces  of  his  delightful  style.  What  a  pity  he  had  not 
been  guided  by  the  opinions  of  his  fair  listeners  at  Barton, 
instead  of  that  of  the  astute  Mr.  Newbery ! 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

DINNER    AT    GENERAL    OGLETHORPE'S— ANECDOTES    OF    THE    GEN- 
ERAL—DISPUTE ABOUT   DUELLING — GHOST  STORIES. 

We  have  mentioned  old  General  Oglethorpe  as  one  of  Gold- 
smith's aristocratical  acquaintances.  This  veteran,  born  in 
1698,  had  commenced  life  early,  by  serving,  when  a  mere  strip- 
ling, under  Prince  Eugene,  against  the  Turks.  He  had  con- 
tinued in  military  life,  and  been  promoted  to  the  rank  of  major- 
general  in  1745,  and  received  a  command  during  the  Scottish 
rebellion.  Being  of  strong  Jacobite  tendencies,  he  was  suspected 
and  accused  of  favoring  the  rebels ;  and  though  acquitted  by  a 
court  of  inquiry,  was  never  afterward  employed ;  or,  in  techni- 
cal language,  was  shelved.  He  had  since  been  repeatedly  a 
member  of  parliament,  and  had  always  distinguished  himself 
by  learning,  taste,  active  benevolence,  and  high  Tory  principles. 
His  name,  however,  has  become  historical,  chiefly  from  his 
transactions  in  America,  and  the  share  he  took  in  the  settle- 
ment of  the  colony  of  Georgia.  It  lies  enbalmed  in  honorable 
immortality  in  a  single  line  of  Pope's: 

"  One.  driven  by  strong  benevolence  of  soul. 
Shall  fty,  like  Oglethorpe,  from  pole  to  pole." 

The  veteran  was  now  seventy-four  years  of  age,  but  healthy 
and  vigorous,  and  as  much  the  preux  chevalier  as  in  his 
younger  days,  when  he  served  with  Prince  Eugene.  His  table 
was  often  the  gathering-place  of  men  of  talent.  Johnson  was 
frequently  there,  and  delighted  in  drawing  from  the  general 
details  of  his  various  "  experiences."  He  was  anxious  that  he 
should  give  the  world  his  life.  "I  know  no  man,"  said  he, 
"whose  life  would  be  more  interesting."  Still  the  vivacity  of 
the  general's  mind  and  the  variety  of  his  knowledge  made  him 
skip  from  subject  to  subject  too  fast  for  the  Lexicographer. 
"  Oglethorpe,"  growled  he,  "never  completes  what  he  has  to 
say." 


OLIVER   UULDHMITII.  181) 

Boswell  gives  us  an  interesting  and  characteristic  account  of 
a  dinner  party  at  the  general's  (April  10th,  1772),  at  which 
Goldsmith  and  Johnson  were  present.  After  dinner,  when  the 
cloth  was  removed,  Oglethorpe,  at  Johnson's  request,  gave  an 
account  of  the  siege  of  Belgrade,  in  the  true  veteran  style. 
Pouring  a  little  wine  upon  the  table,  he  drew  his  lines  and  par- 
allels with  a  wet  finger,  describing  the  positions  of  the  opposing 
forces.  ' '  Here  were  we — here  were  the  Turks, "  to  all  which 
Johnson  listened  with  the  most  earnest  attention,  poring  over 
the  plans  and  diagrams  with  his  usual  purblind  closeness. 

In  the  course  of  conversation,  the  general  gave  an  anecdote 
of  himself  in  early  life,  when  serving  under  Prince  Eugene. 
Sitting  at  table  once  in  company  with  a  prince  of  Wurtem- 
berg,  the  latter  gave  a  fillip  to  a  glass  of  wine,  so  as  to  make 
some  of  it  fly  in  Oglethorpe's  face.  The  manner  in  which  it 
was  done  was  somewhat  equivocal.  How  was  it  to  be  taken 
by  the  stripling  officer?  If  seriously,  he  must  challenge  the 
prince;  but  in  so  doing  he  might  fix  on  himself  the  character 
of  a  drawcansir.  If  passed  over  without  notice,  he  might  be 
charged  with  cowardice.  His  mind  was  made  up  in  an  in- 
stant. "Prince,"  said  he,  smiling,  " that  is  an  excellent  joke ; 
but  we  do  it  much  better  in  England."  So  saying,  he  threw  a 
whole  glass  of  wine  in  the  prince's  face.  "Ha  bien  fait,  mon 
prince,"  cried  an  old  general  present,  "  vous  l'avez  commence." 
(He  has  done  right,  my  prince;  you  commenced  it.)  The 
prince  had  the  good  sense  to  acquiesce  in  the  decision  of  the 
veteran,  and  Oglethorpe's  retort  in  kind  was  taken  hi  good 
part. 

It  was  probably  at  the  close  of  this  story  that  the  officious 
Boswell,  ever  anxious  to  promote  conversation  for  the  benefit 
of  his  note-book,  started  the  question  whether  duelling  were 
consistent  with  moral  duty.  The  old  gentleman  fired  up  in 
an  instant.  "Undoubtedly,"  said  he,  with  a  lofty  air;  "un- 
doubtedly a  man  has  a  right  to  defend  his  honor."  Goldsmith 
immediately  carried  the  war  into  Boswell's  own  quarters,  and 
pinned  him  with  the  question,  ' '  what  he  would  do  if  affronted?" 
The  pliant  Boswell,  who  for  the  moment  had  the  fear  of  the 
general  rather  than  of  Johnson  before  his  eyes,  replied,  "he 
should  think  it  necessary  to  fight."  "Why,  then,  that  solves 
the  question,"  replied  Goldsmith.  "No,  sir!"  thundered  out 
Johnson;  "it  does  not  follow  that  what  a  man  would  do,  is 
therefore  right."  He,  however,  subsequently  went  into  a  dis- 
cussion to  show  that  there  were  necessities  in  the  case  arising 


190  OLIVER    GOLDSMITH. 

* 
out  of  the  artificial  refinement  of  society,  and  its  proscription 
of  any  one  who  should,  put  up  with  an  affront  without  fighting 
a  duel.  "He  then,"  concluded  he,  "who  fights  a  duel  does 
not  fight  from  passion  against  his  antagonist,  but  out  of  self- 
defence,  to  avert  the  stigma  of  the  world,  and  to  prevent  him- 
self from  being  driven  out  of  society.  I  could  wish  there  were 
not  that  superfluity  of  refinement;  but  while  such  notions  pre- 
vail,  no  doubt  a  man  may  lawfully  fight  a  duel." 

Another  question  started  was,  whether  people  who  disagreed 
on  a  capital  point  could  live  together  in  friendship.  Johnson 
said  they  might.  Goldsmith  said  they  could  not,  as  they  had 
not  the  idem  velle  atque  idem  nolle— the  same  likings  and 
aversions.  Johnson  rejoined,  that  they  must  shun  the  subject 
on  which  they  disagreed.  ' '  But,  sir, "  said  Goldsmith,  ' '  when 
people  live  together  who  have  something  as  to  which  they  dis- 
agree, and  which  they  want  to  shun,  they  will  be  in  the  situa- 
tion mentioned  in  the  story  of  Blue  Beard :  '  you  may  look  into 
ail  the  chambers  but  one ;'  but  we  should  have  the  greatest  in- 
clination to  look  into  that  chamber,  to  talk  of  that  subject." 
"Sir,"  thundered  Johnson,  in  a  loud  voice,  "I  am  not  saying 
that  ydu  could  live  in  friendship  with  a  man  from  whom  you 
differ  as  to  some  point;  I  am  only  saying  that  J  could  do  it." 

Who  will  not  say  that  Goldsmith  had  the  best  of  this  petty 
contest?  How  just  was  his  remark!  how  felicitous  the  illus- 
tration of  the  blue  chamber !  how  rude  and  overhearing  was 
the  argumentum  ad  hominem  of  Johnson,  when  he  felt  that 
he  had  the  worst  of  the  argument ! 

The  conversation  turned  upon  ghosts.  General  Oglethorpe 
told  the  story  of  a  Colonel  Prendergast,  an  officer  in  the  Duke 
of  Marlborough's  army,  who  predicted  among  his  comrades 
that  he  should  die  on  a  certain  day.  The  battle  of  Malplaquet 
took  place  on  that  day.  The  colonel  was  in  the  midst  of  it, 
but  came  out  unhurt.  The  firing  had  ceased,  and  his  brother 
officers  jested  with  him  about  the  fallacy  of  his  prediction. 
"The  day  is  not  over,"  replied  he,  gravely;  "I  shall  die,  not- 
withstanding what  you  see."  His  words  proved  true.  The 
order  for  a  cessation  of  firing  had  not  reached  one  of  the 
French  batteries,  and  a  random  shot  from  it  killed  the  colonel 
on  the  spot.  Among  his  effects  was  found  a  pocket-book,  in 
which  he  had  made  a  solemn  entry,  that  Sir  John  Friend,  who 
had  been  executed  for  high  treason,  had  appeared  to  him, 
either  in  a  dream  or  vision,  and  predicted  that  he  would  meet 
him  on  a  certain  day  (the  very  day  of  the  battle).     Colonel 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  191 

Cecil,  who  took  possession  of  the  effects  of  Colonel  Prender- 
gast,  and  read  the  entry  in  the  pocket-book,  told  this  story  to 
Pope,  the  poet,  in  the  presence  of  General  Oglethorpe. 

This  story,  as  related  by  the  general,  appears  to  have  been 
well  received,  if  not  credited,  by  both  Johnson  and  Goldsmith, 
each  of  whom  had  something  to  relate  in  kind.  Goldsmith's 
brother,  the  clergyman  in  whom  he  had  such  implicit  confi- 
dence, had  assured  him  of  his  having  seen  an  apparition. 
Johnson  also  had  a  friend,  old  Mr.  Cave,  the  printer,  at  St. 
John's  Gate,  "an  honest  man,  and  a  sensible  man,"  who  told 
him  he  had  seen  a  ghost :  he  did  not,  however,  like  to  talk  of 
it,  and  seemed  to  be  in  great  horror  whenever  it  was  men- 
tioned. "And  pray,  sir,"  asked  Boswell,  "what  did  he  say 
was  the  appearance?" 

"Why,  sir,  something  of  a  shadowy  being." 

The  reader  will  not  be  surprised  at  this  superstitious  turn  in 
the  conversation  of  such  intelligent  men,  when  he  recollects 
that,  but  a  few  years  before  this  time,  all  London  had  been 
agitated  by  the  absurd  story  of  the  Cock-lane  ghost;  a  matter 
which  Dr.  Johnson  had  deemed  worthy  of  his  serious  investi- 
gation, and  about  which  Goldsmith  had  written  a  pamphlet. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

MR.  JOSEPH  CRADOCK— AN  AUTHOR'S  CONFIDINGS— AN  AMANUEN- 
SIS— LIFE  AT  EDGEWARE  —  GOLDSMITH  CONJURING — GEORGE 
COLMAN— THE  FANTOCCINI. 

Among  the  agreeable  acquaintances  made  by  Goldsmith 
about  this  time  was  a  Mr.  Joseph  Cradock,  a  young  gentleman 
of  Leicestershire,  living  at  his  ease,  but  disposed  to  "make 
himself  uneasy,"  by  meddling  with  literature  and  the  theatre; 
in  fact,  he  had  a  passion  for  plays  and  players,  and  had  come 
up  to  town  with  a  modified  translation  of  Voltaire's  tragedy  of 
Zobeide,  in  a  view  to  get  it  acted.  There  was  no  great  diffi- 
culty in  the  case,  as  he  was  a  man  of  fortune,  had  letters  of 
introduction  to  persons  of  note,  and  was  altogether  in  a  dif- 
ferent position  from  the  indigent  man  of  genius  whom  mana- 
gers might  harass  with  impunity.  Goldsmith  met  him  at  the 
house  of  Yates,  the  actor,  and  finding  that  he  was  a  friend  of 


192  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

Lord  Clare,  soon  became  sociable  with  him.  Mutual  tastes 
quickened  the  intimacy,  especially  as  they  found  means  of 
serving  each  other.  Goldsmith  wrote  an  epilogue  for  the  tra- 
gedy of  Zobeide ;  and  Cradock,  who  was  an  amateur  musician, 
arranged  the  music  for  the  Threnodia  Augustalis,  a  lament  on 
the  death  of  the  Princess  Dowager  of  Wales,  the  political  mis- 
tress and  patron  of  Lord  Clare,  which  Goldsmith  had  thrown 
off  hastily  to  please  that  nobleman.  The  tragedy  was  played 
with  some  success  at  Covent  Garden ;  the  Lament  was  recited 
and  sung  at  Mrs.  Cornelys'  rooms — a  very  fashionable  resort  in 
Soho  Square,  got  up  by  a  woman  of  enterprise  of  that  name. 
It  was  in  whimsical  parody  of  those  gay  and  somewhat  pro- 
miscuous assemblages  that  Goldsmith  used  to  call  the  motley 
evening  parties  at  his  lodgings  "little  Cornelys." 

The  Threnodia  Augustalis  was  not  publicly  known  to  be  by 
Goldsmith  until  several  years  after  his  death. 

Cradock  was  one  of  the  few  polite  intimates  who  felt  more 
disposed  to  sympathize  with  the  generous  qualities  of  the  poet 
than  to  sport  with  his  eccentricities.  He  sought  his  society 
whenever  he  came  to  town,  and  occasionally  had  him.  to  his 
seat  in  the  country.  Goldsmith  appreciated  his  sympathy, 
and  unburthened  himself  to  him  without  reserve.  Seeing  the 
lettered  ease  in  which  this  amateur  author  was  enabled  to  live, 
and  the  time  he  could  bestow  on  the  elaboration  of  a  manu- 
script, "Ah!  Mr.  Cradock,"  cried  he,  "  think  of  me  that  must 
write  a  volume  every  month !"  He  complained  to  him  of  the 
attempts  made  by  inferior  writers,  and  by  others  who  could 
scarcely  come  under  that  denomination,  not  only  to  abuse  and 
depreciate  his  writings,  but  to  render  him  ridiculous  as  a  man ; 
perverting- every  harmless  sentiment  and  action  into  charges 
of  absurdity,  malice,  or  folly.  "Sir,"  said  he,  in  the  fulness  of 
his  heart,  "  I  am  as  a  lion  baited  by  curs !" 

Another  acquaintance  which  he  made  about  this  time,  was 
a  young  countryman  of  the  name  of  M'Donnell,  whom  he  met 
in  a  state  of  destitution,  and,  of  course,  befriended.  The  fol- 
lowing grateful  recollections  of  his  kindness  and  his  merits 
were  furnished  by  that  person  in  after  years : 

"  It  was  in  the  year  1772,"  writes  he,  "that  the  death  of  my 
elder  brother— when  in  London,  on  my  way  to  Ireland— left 
me  in  a  most  forlorn  situation ;  JL  was  then  about  eighteen ;  I 
possessed  neither  friends  nor  money,  nor  the  means  of  getting 
to  Ireland,  of  which  or  of  England  I  knew  scarcely  anything, 
from  having  so  long  resided  in  France.     In  this  situation  I  had 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  193 

strolled  about  for  two  or  three  days,  considering  what  to  do, 
but  unable  to  come  to  any  determination,  when  Providence 
directed  me  to  the  Temple  Gardens.  I  threw  myself  on  a  seat, 
and,  willing  to  forget  my  miseries  for  a  moment,  drew  out  a 
book;  that  book  was  a  volume  of  Boileau.  I  had  not  been 
.there  long  when  a  gentleman,  strolling  about,  passed  near  me, 
and  observing,  perhaps,  something  Irish  or  foreign  in  my  garb 
or  countenance,  addressed  me :  '  Sir,  you  seem  studious ;  I  hope 
you  find  this  a  favorable  place  to  pursue  it.'  '  Not  very  studi- 
ous, sir;  I  fear  it  is  the  want  of  society  that  brings  me  hither; 
I  am  solitary  and  unknown  in  this  metropolis ;'  and  a  passage 
from  Cicero — Oratio  pro  Archia— occurring  to  me,  I  quoted  it; 
'  Hsec  studia  pernoctant  nobiscum,  peregrinantur,  rusticantnr. ' 
'  You  are  a  scholar,  too,  sir,  I  perceive.'  'A  piece  of  one,  sir; 
but  I  ought  still  to  have  been  in  the  college  where  I  had  the 
good  fortune  to  pick  up  the  little  I  know.'  A  good  deal  of  con- 
versation ensued ;  I  told  him  part  of  my  history,  and  he,  in 
return,  gave  his  address  in  the  Temple,  desiring  me  to  call 
soon,  from  which,  to  my  infinite  surprise  and  gratification,  I 
found  that  the  person  who  thus  seemed  to  take  an  interest  in 
my  fate  was  my  countryman,  and  a  distinguished  ornament  of 
letters. 

"I  did  not  fail  to  keep  the  appointment,  and  was  received  in 
the  kindest  manner.  He  told  me,  smilingly,  that  he  was  not 
rich ;  that  he  could  do  little  for  me  in  direct  pecuniary  aid,  but 
would  endeavor  to  put  me  in  the  way  of  doing  something  for 
myself;  observing,  that  he  could  at  least  furnish  me  with  ad- 
vice not  wholly  useless  to  a  young  man  placed  in  the  heart  of 
a  great  metropolis.  '  In  London,'  he  continued,  'nothing  is  to 
be  got  for  nothing ;  you  must  work ;  and  no  man  who  chooses 
to  be  industrious  need  be  under  obligations  to  another,  for 
here  labor  of  every  kind  commands  its  reward.  If  you 
think  proper  to  assist  me  occasionally  as  amanuensis,  I  shall 
be  obliged,  and  you  will  be  placed  under  no  obligation,  until 
something  more  permanent  can  be  secured  for  you.'  This 
employment,  which  I  pursued  for  some  time,  was  to  translate 
passages  from  Buffon,  which  was  abridged  or  altered,  accord- 
ing to  circumstances,  for  his  Natural  History. " 

Goldsmith's  literary  tasks  were  fast  getting  ahead  of  him, 
and  he  began  now  to  "toil  after  them  in  vain." 

Five  volumes  of  the  Natural  History  here  spoken  of  had  long 
since  been  paid  for  by  Mr.  Griffin,  yet  most  of  them  were  still 
to  be  written.     His  young  amanuensis  bears  testimony  to  hie 


194  OLIVES,  GO  Lb SMITH. 

embarrassments  and  perplexities,  but  to  the  degree  of  equa- 
nimity with  which  he  bore  them : 

"It  has  been  said,"  observes  he,  "that  he  was  irritable. 
Such  may  have  been  the  case  at  times ;  nay,  I  believe  it  was 
so ;  for  what  with  the  continual  pursuit  of  authors,  printers, 
and  booksellers,  and  occasional  pecuniary  embarrassments, 
few  could  have  avoided  exhibiting  similar  marks  of  impa- 
tience. But  it  was  never  so  toward  me.  I  saw  him  only  in 
his  bland  and  kind  moods,  with  a  flow,  perhaps  an  overflow, 
of  the  milk  of  human  kindness  for  all  who  were  in  any  manner 
dependent  upon  him.  I  looked  upon  him  with  awe  and  venera- 
tion, and  he  upon  me  as  a  kind  of  parent  upon  a  child. 

"His  manner  and  address  exhibited  much  frankness  and 
cordiality,  particuterly  to  those  with  whom  he  possessed  any 
degree  of  intimacy.  His  good-nature  was  equally  apparent. 
You  could  not  dislike  the  man,  although  several  of  his  f ollies 
and  foibles  you  might  be  tempted  to  condemn.  He  was 
generous  and  inconsiderate;  money  with  him  had  little 
value." 

To  escape  from  many  of  the  tormentors  just  alluded  to,  and 
to  devote  himself  without  interruption  to  his  task,  Godsmith 
took  lodgings  for  the  summer  at  a  farm-house  near  the  six-mile 
stone  on  the  Edgeware  road,  and  carried  down  his  books  in 
two  return  post-chaises.  He  used  to  say  he  believed  the 
farmer's  family  thought  him  an  odd  character,  similar  to  that 
in  which  the  Spectator  appeared  to  his  landlady  and  her  chil- 
dren :  he  was  The  Gentleman.  Boswell  tells  us  that  he  went 
to  visit  him  at  the  place  in  company  with  Mickle,  translator  of 
the  Lusiad.  Goldsmith  was  not  at  home.  Having  a  curiosity 
to  see  his  apartment,  however,  they  went  in,  and  found  curi- 
ous scraps  of  descriptions  of  animals  scrawled  upon  the  wall 
with  a  black  lead  pencil. 

The  farm-house  in  question  is  still  in  existence,  though  much 
altered.  It  stands  upon  a  gentle  eminence  in  Hyde  Lane,  com- 
manding a  pleasant  prospect  toward  Hendon.  The  room  is 
still  pointed  out  in  which  She  Stoops  to  Conquer  was  written ; 
a  convenient  and  airy  apartment,  up  one  flight  of  stairs. 

Some  matter  of  fact  traditions  concerning  the  author  were 
furnished,  a  few  years  since,  by  a  son  of  the  farmer,  who  was 
sixteen  years  of  age  at  the  time  Goldsmith  resided  with  his 
father.  Though  he  had  engaged  to  board  with  the  family,  his 
meals  were  generally  sent  to  him  in  his  room,  in  which  he 
passed  the  most  of  his  time,  negligently  dressed,  with  his  shirt- 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  195 

collar  open,  busily  engaged  in  writing.  Sometimes,  probably 
when  in  moods  of  composition,  he  would  wander  into  the 
kitchen,  without  noticing  any  one,  stand  musing  with  his  back 
to  the  fire,  and  then  hurry  off  again  to  his  room,  no  doubt  to 
commit  to  paper  some  thought  which  had  struck  him. 

Sometimes  he  strolled  about  the  fields,  or  was  to  be  seen 
loitering  and  reading  and  musing  under  the  hedges.  He  was 
subject  to  fits  of  wakefulness  and  read  much  in  bed ;  if  not  dis- 
posed to  read,  he  still  kept  the  candle  burning ;  if  he  wished  to 
extinguish  it,  and  it  was  out  of  his  reach,  he  flung  his  slipper 
at  it,  which  would  be  found  in  the  morning  near  the  over- 
turned candlestick  and  daubed  with  grease.  He  was  noted 
here,  as  everywhere  else,  for  his  charitable  feelings.  No  beg- 
gar applied  to  him  in  vain,  and  he  evinced  on  all  occasions 
great  commiseration  for  the  poor. 

He  had  the  use  of  the  parlor  to  receive  and  entertain  com- 
pany, and  was  visited  by  Sir  Joshua.  Eeynolds,  Hugh  Boyd, 
the  reputed  author  of  "  Junius, "  Sir  William  Chambers,  and 
other  distinguished  characters.  He  gave  occasionally,  though 
rarely,  a  dinner  party ;  and  on  one  occasion,  when  his  guests 
were  detained  by  a  thunder  shower,  he  got  up  a  dance  and  car- 
ried the  merriment  late  into  the  night. 

As  usual,  he  was  the  promoter  of  hilarity  among  the  young, 
and  at  one  time  took  the  children  of  the  house  to  see  a  com- 
pany of  strolling  players  at  Hendon.  The  greatest  amusement 
to  the  party,  however,  was  derived  from  Ms  own  jokes  on  the 
road  and  his  comments  on  the  performance,  which  produced 
infinite  laughter  among  his  youthful  companions. 

Near  to  his  rural  retreat  at  Edgeware,  a  Mr.  Seguin,  an 
Irish  merchant,  of  literary  tastes,  had  country  quarters  for  his 
family,  where  Goldsmith  was  always  welcome. 

In  this  family  he  would  indulge  in  playful  and  even  grotesque 
humor,  and  was  ready  for  anything— conversation,  music,  or  a 
game  of  romps.  He  prided  himself  upon  his  dancing,  and 
would  walk  a  minuet  with  Mrs.  Seguin,  to  the  infinite  amuse- 
ment of  herself  and  the  children,  whose  shouts  of  laughter  he 
bore  with  perfect  good-humor.  He  would  sing  Irish  songs,  and 
the  Scotch  ballads  of  Johnny  Armstrong.  He  took  the  lead  in 
the  children's  sports  of  blind-man's  buff,  hunt  the  slipper,  etc., 
or  in  their  games  at  cards,  and  was  the  most  noisy  of  the  party, 
affecting  to  cheat  and  to  be  excessively  eager  to  win ;  while 
with  children  of  smaller  size  he  would  turn  the  hind  part  of  his 
wig  before,  and  play  all  kinds  of  tricks  to  amuse  them. 


196  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

One  word  as  to  his  musical  skill  and  his  performance  on  the 
flute,  which  conies  up  so  invariably  in  all  his  fireside  revels. 
He  really  knew  nothing  of  music  scientifically ;  he  had  a  good 
ear,  and  may  have  played  sweetly ;  but  we  are  told  he  could 
not  read  a  note  of  music.  Roubillac,  the  statuary,  once  played 
a  trick  upon  him  in  this  respect.  He  pretended  to  score  down 
an  air  as  the  pout  played  it,  but  put  down  crotchets  and  semi- 
breves  at  random.  When  he  had  finished,  Goldsmith  cast  his; 
eyes  over  it  and  pronounced  it  correct !  It  is  possible  that  his 
execution  in  music  was  like  his  style  in  writing;  in  sweetness 
and  melody  he  may  have  snatched  a  grace  beyond  the  reach  of 
art! 

He  was  at  all  times  a  capital  companion  for  children,  and 
knew  how  to  fall  in  with  their  humors.  "I  little  thought," 
said  Miss  Hawkins,  the  woman  grown,  "what  I  should  have  to 
boast,  when  Goldsmith  taught  me  to  play  Jack  and  Jill  by  two 
bits  of  paper  on  Ms  fingers."  ■  He  entertained  Mrs.  Gari  i<k,  we 
are  told,  with  a  whole  budget  of  stories  and  songs ;  delivered 
the  "  Chimney  Sweep"  with  exquisite  taste  as  a  solo;  and  per- 
formed a  duet  with  Garrick  of  "Old  Eose  and  Burn  the 
Bellows." 

"  I  was  only  five  years  old,"  says  the  late  George  Colman, 
"  when  Goldsmith  one  evening,  when  drinking  coffee  with  my 
father,  took  me  on  his  knee  and  began  to  play  with  me,  which 
amiable  act  I  returned  with  a  very  smart  slap  in  the  face ;  it 
must  have  been  a  tingler,  for  I  left  the  marks  of  my  little 
spiteful  paw  upon  his  cheek.  This  infantile  outrage  was  fol- 
lowed by  summary  justice,  and  I  was  locked  up  by  my  father 
in  an  adjoining  room,  to  undergo  solitary  imprisonment  in  the 
dark.  Here  I  began  to  howl  and  scream  most  abominably. 
At  length  a  friend  appeared  to  extricate  me  from  jeopardy ;  it 
was  the  good-natured  doctor  himself,  with  a  lighted  candle  in 
his  hand,  and  a  smile  upon  his  countenance,  wliich  was  still 
partially  red  from  the  effects  of  my  petulance.  I  sulked  and 
sobbed,  and  he  fondled  and  soothed  until  I  began  to  brighten. 
He  seized  the  propitious  moment,  placed  three  hats  upon  the 
carpet,  and  a  shilling  under  each;  the  shillings,  he  told  me, 
were  England,  Trance,  and  Spain.  '  Hey,  presto,  cockolorum ! ' 
cried  the  doctor,  and  lo !  on  uncovering  the  shillings,  they  were 
all  found  congregated  under  one.  I  was  no  politician  at  the 
time,  and  therefore  might  not  have  wondered  at  the  sudden 
revolution  which  brought  England,  France,  and  Spain  all  under 
one  crown;  but,  as  I  was  also  no  conjurer,  it  amazed  me  be- 


OLIVER   Q0LD8MITH.  197 

yond  measure.     From  that  time,  whenever  the  doctor  came  to 
visit  my  father, 

'I  pluck'd  his  gowu  to  share  the  good  man's  smile;' 

a  game  of  romps  constantly  ensued,  and  we  were  always  cor- 
dial friends  and  merry  playfellows." 

Although  Goldsmith  made  the  Edgeware  farmhouse  his  head- 
quarters for  the  summer,  he  would  absent  himself  for  weeks  at 
a  time  on  visits  to  Mr.  Cradock,  Lord  Clare,  and  Mr.  Langton, 
at  their  country-seats.  He  would  often  visit  town,  also,  to 
dine  and  partake  of  the  public  amusements.  On  one  occasion 
he  accompanied  Edmund  Burke  to  witness  a  performance  of 
the  Italian  Fantoccini  or  Puppets,  in  Pauton  Street ;  an  exhibi- 
tion which  had  hit  the  caprice  of  the  town,  and  was  in  great 
vogue.  The  puppets  were  set  in  motion  by  wires,  so  well  con- 
cealed as  to  be  with  difficulty  detected.  Boswell,  with  his 
usual  obtuseness  with  respect  to  Goldsmith,  accuses  him  of  be- 
ing jealous  of  tne  puppets !  "When  Burke,"  said  he,  "praised 
the  dexterity  with  which  one  of  them  tossed  a  pike,"  '  Pshaw,' 
said  Goldsmith  with  some  warmth,  '  I  can  do  it  better  myself.' " 
"  The  same  evening,"  adds  Boswell,  "when  supping  at  Burke's 
lodgings,  he  broke  his  shin  by  attempting  to  exhibit  to  the 
company  how  much  better  he  could  jump  over  a  stick  than  the 
puppets." 

Goldsmith  jealous  of  puppets !  This  even  passes  in  absurdity 
Boswell's  charge  upon  him  of  being  jealous  of  the  beauty  of 
the  two  Miss  Hornecks. 

The  Panton  Street  puppets  were  destined  to  be  a  source  of 
further  amusement  to  the  town,  and  of  annoyance  to  the  little 
autocrat  of  the  stage.  Foote,  the  Aristophanes  of  the  English 
drama,  who  was  always  on  the  alert  to  turn  every  subject  of 
popular  excitement  to  account,  seeing  the  success  of  the  Fan- 
toccini, gave  out  that  he  should  produce  a  Primitive  Puppet- 
show  at  the  Haymarket,  to  be  entitled  The  Handsome  Cham- 
bermaid, or  Piety  in  Pattens  :  intended  to  burlesque  the  senti- 
mental comedy  which  Garrick  still  maintained  at  Drury  Lane. 
The  idea  of  a  play  to  be  performed  in  a  regular  theatre  by 
puppets  excited  the  curiosity  and  talk  of  the  town.  "Will 
your  puppets  be  as  large  as  life,  Mr.  Foote?"  demanded  a  lady 
of  rank.  "Oh,  no,  my  lady;"  replied  Foote,  "not  much  larger 
than  Garrick.'1'' 


198  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

BROKEN  HEALTH— DISSIPATION  AND  DEBTS— THE  IRISH  WIDOW- 
PRACTICAL  JOKES  —  SCRUB— A  MISQUOTED  PUN— MALAGRIDA - 
GOLDSMITH  PROVED  TO  BE  A  FOOL  —  DISTRESSED  BALLAD 
SINGERS — THE  POET  AT  RANELAGH. 

Goldsmith  returned  to  town  in  the  autumn  (1772),  with  his 
health  much  disordered.  His  close  fits  of  sedentary  applica- 
tion, during  which  he  in  a  manner  tied  himself  to  the  mast, 
had  laid  the  seeds  of  a  lurking  malady  in  his  system,  and  pro- 
duced a  severe  illness  in  the  course  of  the  summer.  Town  life 
was  not  favorable  to  the  health  either  of  body  or  mind.  He 
could  not  resist  the  siren  voice  of  temptation,  which,  now  that 
he  had  become  a  notoriety,  assailed  him  on  every  side.  Ac- 
cordingly we  find  him  launching  away  in  a  career  of  social 
dissipation;  dining  and  supping  out;  at  clubs,  at  routs,  at 
theatres ;  he  is  a  guest  with  Johnson  at  the  Thrales',  and  an 
object  of  Mrs.  Thrale's  lively  sallies;  he  is  a  lion  at  Mrs.  Vesey's 
and  Mrs.  Montagu's,  where  some  of  the  high-bred  blue-stock- 
ings pronounce  him  a  "wild  genius," and  others,  perad venture, 
a  "wild  Irishman."  In  the  meantime  his  pecuniary  difficul- 
ties are  increasing  upon  him,  conflicting  with  his  proneness  to 
pleasure  and  expense,  and  contributing  by  the  harassment  of 
his  mind  to  the  wear  and  tear  of  his  constitution.  His  "Ani- 
mated Nature,"  though  not  finished,  has  been  entirely  paid  for, 
and  the  money  spent.  The  money  advanced  by  Garrick  on 
Newbery's  note  still  hangs  over  him  as  a  debt.  The  tale  on 
which  Newbery  had  loaned  from  two  to  three  hundred  pounds 
previous  to  the  excursion  to  Barton  has  proved  a  failure.  The 
bookseller  is  urgent  for  the  settlement  of  his  complicated  ac- 
count ;  the  perplexed  author  has  nothing  to  offer  him  in  liqui- 
dation but  the  copyright  of  the  comedy  which  he  has  in  his 
portfolio;  "Though  to  tell  you  the  truth,  Frank,"  said  he, 
"there  are  great  doubts  of  its  success."  The  offer  was  ac- 
cepted, and,  like  bargains  wrung^  from  Goldsmith  in  times  of 
emergency,  turned  out  a  golden  speculation  to  the  bookseller. 

In  this  way  Goldsmith  went  on  "overrunning  the  consta- 
ble," as  he  termed  it;  spending  every  thing  in  advance ;  work- 
ing with  an  overtasked  head  and  weary  heart  to  pay  for  past 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  199 

pleasures  and  past  extravagance,  and  at  the  same  time  incur- 
ring new  debts,  to  perpetuate  his  struggles  and  darken  his 
future  prospects.  While  the  excitement  of  society  and  the  ex- 
citement of  composition  conspire  to  keep  up  a  feverishness  of 
the  system,  he  has  incurred  an  unfortunate  habit  of  quacking 
himself  with  James'  powders,  a  fashionable  panacea  of  the 
day. 

A  farce,  produced  this  year  by  Garrick,  and  entitled  The 
Irish  Widow,  perpetuates  the  memory  of  practical  jokes 
played  off  a  year  or  two  previously  upon  the  alleged  vanity 
of  poor,  simple-hearted  Goldsmith.  He  was  one  evening  at 
the  house  of  Ins  friend  Burke,  when  he  was  beset  by  a  tenth 
muse,  an  Irish  widow  and  authoress,  just  arrived  from  Ire- 
land, full  of  brogue  and  blunders,  and  poetic  fire  and  rantipole 
gentility.  She  was  soliciting  subscriptions  for  her  poems ;  and 
assailed  Goldsmith  for  his  patronage;  the  great  Goldsmith — 
her  countryman,  and  of  course  her  friend.  She  overpowered 
him  with  eulogiums  on  his  own  poems,  and  then  read  some 
of  her  own,  with  vehemence  of  tone  and  gesture,  appealing 
continually  to  the  great  Goldsmith  to  know  how  he  relished 
them. 

Poor  Goldsmith  did  all  that  a  kind-hearted  and  gallant  gen- 
tleman could  do  in  such  a  case ;  he  praised  her  poems  as  far  as 
the  stomach  of  Ins  sense  would  permit :  perhaps  a  little  fur- 
ther ;  he  offered  her  his  subscription,  and  it  was  not  until  she 
had  retired  with  many  parting  compliments  to  the  great  Gold- 
smith, that  he  pronounced  the  poetry  which  had  been  inflicted 
on  him  execrable.  The  whole  scene  had  been  a  hoax  got  up 
by  Burke  for  the  amusement  of  his  company,  and  the  Irish 
widow,  so  admirably  performed,  had  been  personated  by  a 
Mrs.  Balfour,  a  lady  of  his  connection,  of  great  sprightliness 
and  talent. 

We  see  nothing  in  the  story  to  establish  the  alleged  vanity 
of  Goldsmith,  but  we  think  it  tells  rather  to  the  disadvantage 
of  Burke ;  being  unwarrantable  under  their  relations  of  friend- 
ship, and  a  species  of  waggery  quite  beneath  his  genius. 

Croker,  in  his  notes  to  Boswell,  gives  another  of  these  prac- 
tical jokes  perpetrated  by  Burke  at  the  expense  of  Goldsmith's 
credulity.  It  was  related  to  Croker  by  Colonel  O'Moore,  of 
Cloghan  Castle,  in  Ireland,  who  was  a  party  concerned.  The 
colonel  and  Burke,  walking  one  day  through  Leicester  Square 
on  their  way  to  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds's,  with  whom  they  were 
to  dine,  observed  Goldsmith,  who  was  likewise  to  be  a  guest. 


200  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

standing  and  regarding  a  crowd  which  was  staring  and  shout- 
ing at  some  foreign  ladies  in  the  window  of  a  hotel.  "  Observe 
Goldsmith,  "said  Burke  to  O'Moore,  "and  mark  what  passes  be- 
tween us  at  Sir  Joshua's."  They  passed  on  and  reached  there 
before  him.  Burke  received  Goldsmith  with  affected  reserve 
and  coldness;  being  pressed  to  explain  the  reason,  "Really," 
said  he,  ' '  I  am  ashamed  to  keep  company  with  a  person  who 
could  act  as  you  have  just  done  in  the  Square."  Goldsmith 
protested  he  was  ignorant  of  what  was  meant.  "Why,"  said 
Burke,  "did  you  not  exclaim  as  you  were  looking  up  at  those 
women,  what  stupid  beasts  the  crowd  must  be  for  staring 
with  such  admiration  at  those  painted  Jezebels,  while  a  man  of 
your  talents  passed  by  unnoticed?"  "Surely,  surely,  my  dear 
friend," cried  Goldsmith,  with  alarm,  "surely  I  did  not  say 
so?"  "Nay,"  replied  Burke,  "if  you  had  not  said  so,  how 
should  I  have  known  it?"  "That's  true,"  answered  Gold- 
smith; "I  am  very  sorry — it  was  very  foolish:  I  do  recollect 
that  something  of  the  kind  passed  through  my  mind,  but  I  did 
not  think  I  had  uttered  it." 

It  is  proper  to  observe  that  these  jokes  were  played  off 
by  Burke  before  he  had  attained  the  full  eminence  of  his  social 
position,  and  that  he  may  have  felt  privileged  to  take  liberties 
with  Goldsmith  as  his  countryman  and  college  associate.  It  is 
evident,  however,  that  the  peculiarities  of  the  latter,  and  his 
guileless  simplicity,  made  him  a  butt  for  the  broad  waggery  of 
some  of  his  associates;  while  others  more  polished,  though 
equally  perfidious,  were  on  the  watch  to  give  currency  to  his 
bulls  and  blunders. 

The  Stratford  jubilee,  in  honor  of  Shakespeare,  where  Bos- 
well  had  made  a  fool  of  himself,  was  still  in  every  one's  mind. 
It  was  sportively  suggested  that  a  fete  should  be  held  at  Lich- 
field in  honor  of  Johnson  and  Garrick,  and  that  the  Beaux' 
Stratagem  should  be  played  by  the  members  of  the  Literary 
(  dub.  "Then,"  exclaimed  Goldsmith,  "I  shall  certainly  play 
Scrub.  I  should  like  of  all  things  to  try  my  hand  at  that  char- 
acter." The  unwary  speech,  which  any  one  else  might  have 
made  without  comment,  has  been  thought  worthy  of  record  as 
whimsically  characteristic.  Beauclerc  was  extremely  apt  to 
circulate  anecdotes  at  his  expense,  founded  perhaps  on  some 
trivial  incident,  but  dressed  up  with  the  embellishments  of  his 
sarcastic  brain.  One  relates  to  a  venerable  dish  of  peas,  served 
up  at  Sir  Joshua's  table,  which  should  have  been  green,  but 
were  any  other  color.     A  wag  suggested  to  Goldsmith,  in  a 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  2(>1 

whisper,  that  they  should  be  sent  to  Hammersmith,  as  that 
was  the  way  to  tum-em-green  (Turnhani-G-reen).  Goldsmith, 
delighted  with  the  pun,  endeavored  to  repeat  it  at  Burke's 
table,  but  missed  the  point.  "That  is  the  way  to  make  'em 
green,"  said  he.  Nobody  laughed.  He  perceived  he  was  at 
fault.  "I  mean  that  is  the  road  to  turn  'em  green."  A  dead 
pause  and  a  stare;  "  whereupon,"  adds  Beauclerc,  "  he  started 
up  disconcerted  and  abruptly  left  the  table. "  This  is  evidently 
one  of  Beauclerc's  caricatures. 

On  another  occasion  the  poet  and  Beauclerc  were  seated  at 
the  theatre  next  to  Lord  Shelburne,  the  minister,  whom  politi- 
cal writers  thought  proper  to  nickname  Malagrida.  "Do  you 
know,"  said  Goldsmith  to  his  lordship  in  the  course  of  conver- 
sation, "that  I  never  could  conceive  why  they  call  you  Mal- 
agrida, for  Malagrida  was  a  very  good  sort  of  man."  This  was 
too  good  a  trip  of  the  tongue  for  Beauclerc  to  let  pass:  he 
serves  it  up  in  his  next  letter  to  Lord  Charlemont,  as  -a  speci- 
men of  a  mode  of  turning  a  thought  the  wrong  way,  peculiar 
to  the  poet ;  he  makes  merry  over  it  with  his  witty  and  sarcas- 
tic compeer,  Horace  Walpole.  who  pronounces  it  "  a  picture  of 
Goldsmith's  whole  life."  Dr.  Johnson  alone,  when  he  hears  it 
bandied  about  as  Goldsmith's  last  blunder,  growls  forth  a 
friendly  defence:  "Sir,"  said  he,  "it  was  a  mere  blunder  in 
emphasis.  He  meant  to  say,  I  wonder  they  should  use  Mala- 
grida as  a  term  of  reproach."  Poor  Goldsmith!  On  such 
points  he  was  ever  doomed  to  be  misinterpreted.  Bogers,  the 
poet,  meeting  in  times  long  subsequent  with  a  survivor  of 
those  days,  asked  him  what  Goldsmith  really  was  in  conversa- 
tion. The  old  conversational  character  was  too  deeply  stamped 
in  the  memory  of  the  veteran  to  be  effaced.  "  Sir,"  replied  the 
old  wiseacre,  "  he  was  a  fool.  The  right  word  never  came  to 
him.  If  you  gave  Mm  back  a  bad  shilling,  he'd  say,  Why  it's 
as  good  a  shilling  as  ever  was  born.  You  know  he  ought  to 
have  said  corneal.  Coined,  sir,  never  entered  his  head.  He  was 
a  fool,  sm" 

We  have  so  many  anecdotes  in  which  Goldsmith's  simplicity 
is  played  upon,  that  it  is  quite  a  treat  to  meet  with  one  in  which 
he  is  represented  playing  upon  the  simplicity  of  others,  espe- 
cially when  the  victim  of  his  joke  is  the  ' '  Great  Cham"  himself , 
whom  all  others  are  disposed  to  hold  so  much  in  awe.  Gold- 
smith and  Johnson  were  supping  cosily  together  at  a  tavern  in 
Dean  Street,  Soho,  kept  by  Jack  Roberts,  a  singer  at  Drury 
Lane,  and  a  protege  of  Garrick's.    Johnson  delighted  in  these 


202  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

gastrononiical  tete-a-tetes,  and  was  expatiating  in  high  good 
humor  on  rumps  and  kidneys,  the  veins  of  his  forehead  swell- 
ing with  the  ardor  of  mastication.  "These,"  said  he,  "are 
pretty  little  things ;  but  a  man  must  eat  a  great  many  of  them 
before  he  is  filled."  "Aye;  but  how  many  of  them,"  asked 
G  oldsmith,  with  affected  simplicity,  ' '  would  reach  to  the 
moon?"  "To  the  moon!  Ah,  sir,  that,  I  fear,  exceeds  your 
calculation."  "Not  at  all,  sir;  I  think  I  could  tell."  "Pray 
then,  sir,  let  us  hear."  "Why,  sir,  one,  if  it  were  long 
enough!'1'1  Johnson  growled  for  a  time  at  finding  himself 
caught  in  such  a  trite  schoolboy  trap.  "Well,  sir,"  cried  he  at 
length,  "I  have  deserved  it.  I  should  not  have  provoked  so 
f polish  an  answer  by  so  foolish  a  question." 

Among  the  many  incidents  related  as  illustrative  of  Gold- 
smith's vanity  and  envy  is  one  which  occurred  one  evening 
when  he  was  in  a  drawing-room  with  a  party  of  ladies,. and  a 
ballad-singer  under  the  window  struck  up  his  favorite  song  of 
"  Sally  Salisbury."  "  How  miserably  this  woman  sings!"  ex- 
claimed he.  "Pray,  doctor,"  said  the  lady  of  the  house, 
"could  you  do  it  better?"  "Yes,  madam,  and  the  company 
shall  be  judges."  The  company,  of  course,  prepared  to  be 
entertained  by  an  absurdity ;  but  their  smiles  were  well-nigh 
turned  to  tears,  for  he  acquitted  himself  with  a  skill  and 
pathos  that  drew  universal  applause.  He  had,  in  fact,  a  deli- 
cate ear  for  music,  which  had  been  jarred  by  the  false  notes  of 
the  ballad-singer;  and  there  were  certain  pathetic  ballads, 
associated  with  recollections  of  his  childhood,  which  were  sure 
to  touch  the  springs  of  his  heart.  We  have  another  story  of 
him,  connected  with  ballad-singing,  which  is  still  more  charac- 
teristic. He  was  one  evening  at  the  house  of  Sir  William 
Chambers,  in  Berners  Street,  seated  at  a  whist-table  with  Sir 
William,  Lady  Chambers,  and  Baretti,  when  all  at  once  he 
threw  down  his  cards,  hurried  out  of  the  room  and  into  the 
street.  He  returned  in  an  instant,  resumed  his  seat,  and  the 
game  went  on.  Sir  William,  after  a  little  hesitation,  ventured 
to  ask  the  cause  of  his  retreat,  fearing  he  had  been  overcome 
by  the  heat  of  the  room.  "Not  at  all,"  replied  Goldsmith; 
' '  but  in  truth  I  could  not  bear  to  hear  that  unfortunate  woman 
in  the  street,  half  singing,  half  sobbing,  for  such  tones  could 
only  arise  from  the  extremity  _pf  distress;  her  voice  grated 
painfully  on  my  ear  and  jarred  my  frame,  so  that  I  could  not 
rest  until  I  had  sent  her  away."  "It  was  in  fact  a  poor  ballad- 
singer,  whose  cracked  voice  had  been  heard  by  others  of  the 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  203 

party,  but  without  having  the  same  effect  on  their  sensibilities. 
It  was  the  reality  of  his  fictitious  scene  in  the  story  of  the 
"  Man  in  Black;"  wherein  he  describes  a  woman  in  rags  with 
one  child  in  her  arms  and  another  on  her  back,  attempting  to 
sing  ballads,  but  with  such  a  mournful  voice  that  it  was  diffi- 
cult to  determine  whether  she  was  singing  or  crying.  "  A 
wretch,"  he  adds,  "who,  in  the  deepest  distress,  still  aimed  at 
good  humor,  was  an  object  my  friend  was  by  no  means  capable 
of  withstanding."  The  Man  in  Black  gave  the  poor  woman  all 
that  he  had — a  bundle  of  matches.  Goldsmith,  it  is  probable, 
sent  his  ballad-singer  away  rejoicing  with  all  the  money  in  his 
pocket. 

Ranelagh  was  at  that  time  greatly  in  vogue  as  a  place  of 
public  entertainment.  It  was  situated  near  Chelsea ;  the  prin- 
cipal room  was  a  rotunda  of  great  dimensions,  Avith  an  orches- 
tra in  the  centre,  and  tiers  of  boxes  aU  round.  It  was  a  place 
to  which  Johnson  resorted  occasionally.  ' '  I  am  a  great  friend 
to  public  amusements,"  said  he,  "for  they  keep  people  from 
vice."*  Goldsmith  was  equally  a  friend  to  them,  though  per- 
haps not  altogether  on  such  moral  grounds.  He  was  particu- 
larly fond  of  masquerades,  which  were  then  exceedingly  popu- 
lar, and  got  up  at  Ranelagh  with  great  expense  and  magnifi- 
cence. Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  who  had  likewise  a  taste  for 
such  amusements,  was  sometimes  his  companion,  at  "other 
times  he  went  alone;  his  peculiarities  of  person  and  manner 
would  soon  betray  him,  whatever  might  be  his  disguise,  and 
he  would  be  singled  out  by  wags,  acquainted  with  his  foibles, 
and  more  successful  than  himself  in  maintaining  their  incog- 
nito, as  a  capital  subject  to  be  played  upon.  Some,  pretend- 
ing not  to  know  him,  would  decry  his  writings,  and  praise 
those  of  his  contemporaries ;  others  would  laud  Ms  verses  to 
the  skies,  but  purposely  misquote  and  burlesque  them ;  others 
would  annoy  him  with  parodies;  while  one  young  lady,  whom 
he  was  teasing,  as  he  supposed,  with  great  success  and  infinite 
humor,  silenced  his  rather  boisterous  laughter  by  quoting  his 
own  line  about  "the  loud  laugh  that  speaks  the  vacant  mind." 

*  "Alas,  sir!"  said  Johnson,  speaking,  when  in  another  mood,  of  grand  houses, 
fine  gardens,  and  splendid  places  of  public  amusement;  "alas,  sir!  these  are  only 
struggles  for  happiness.  When  I  first  entered  Ranelagh  it  gave  an  expansion  and 
gay  sensation  to  my  mind,  such  as  I  never  experienced  anywhere  else.  But,  as 
Xerxes  wept  when  he  viewed  his  immense  army,  and  considered  that  not  one  of 
that  great  multitude  would  be  alive  a  hundred  years  afterward,  so  it  went  to  my 
heart  to  consider  that  there  was  not  one  in  all  that  brilliant  circle  that  was  not  afraid 
to  go  home  and  think." 


204  OLIVER  GOLDSMITn. 

On  one  occasion  he  was  absolutely  driven  out  of  the  house  by 
the  perse  vering  jokes  of  a  wag,  whose  complete  disguise  gave 
him  no  means  of  retaliation. 

His  name  appearing  in  the  newspapers  among  the  distin- 
guished persons  present  at  one  of  these  amusements,  his  old 
enemy,  Kenrick,  immediately  addressed  to  him  a  copy  of 
anonymous  verses,  to  the  following  purport. 

To  Dr.  Goldsmith ;  on  seeing  his  name  in  the  list  of  mum- 
mers at  the  late  masquerade : 

"  How  widely  different,  Goldsmith,  are  the  ways 
Of  Doctors  now,  and  those  of  ancient  days! 
Theirs  taught  the  truth  in  academic  shades, 
Ours  in  lewd  hops  and  midnight  masquerades. 
So  changed  the  times !  say,  philosophic  sage, 
Whose  genius  suits  so  well  this  tasteful  age, 
Is  the  Pantheon,  late  a  sink  obscene, 
Become  the  fountain  of  chaste  Hippocrene? 
Or  do  thy  moral  numbers  quaintly  flow, 
Inspired  by  th'  Aganippe  of  Soho? 
Do  wisdom's  sons  gorge  cates  and  vermicelli, 
Like  beastly  Bickerstaffe  or  bothering  Kelly? 
Or  art  thou  tired  of  th'  undeserved  applause 
Bestowed  on  bards  affecting  Virtue's  cause? 
Is  this  the  good  that  makes  the  humble  vain, 
The  good  philosophy  should  not  disdain? 
If  so,  let  pride  dissemble  all  it  can, 
A  modern  sage  is  still  much  less  than  man." 

Goldsmith  was  keenly  sensitive  to  attacks  of  the  kind,  and 
meeting  Kenrick  at  the  Chapter  Coffee-house,  called  him  to 
sharp  account  for  taking  such  a  liberty  with  his  name,  and 
calling  his  morals  in  question,  merely  on  account  of  his  being 
seen  at  a  place  of  general  resort  and  amusement.  Kenrick 
shuffled  and  sneaked,  protesting  that  he  meant  nothing  dero- 
gatory to  his  private  character.  Goldsmith  let  him  know, 
however,  that  he  was  aware  of  his  having  more  than  once  in- 
dulged in  attacks  of  this  dastard  kind,  and  intimated  that  an- 
other such  outrage  would  be  followed  by  personal  chastise- 
ment. 

Kenrick  having  played  the  craven  in  his  presence,  avenged 
himself  as  soon  as  he  was  gone  by  complaining  of  his  having 
made  a  wanton  attack  upon  him,  and  by  making  coarse  com- 
ments upon  his  writings,  conversation,  and  person. 

The  scurrilous  satire  of  Kenrick,  however  unmerited,  may 
have  checked  Goldsmith's  taste  for  masquerades.  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds  calling  on  the  poet  one  morning,  found  him  walking 
about  his  room  in  somewhat  of  a  reverie,  kicking  a  bundle  of 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  205 

clothes  before  him  like  a  foot-ball.  It  proved  to  be  an  expen- 
sive masquerade  dress,  which  he  said  he  had  been  fool  enough 
to  purchase,  and  as  there  was  no  other  way  of  getting  the 
worth  of  his  money,  he  was  trying  to  take  it  out  in  exercise. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

INVITATION  TO  CHRISTMAS— THE  SPRING  VELVET  COAT— THE 
HAYMAKING  WIG— THE  MISCHANCES  OP  LOO— THE  FAIR  CUL- 
PRIT—A DANCE  WITH  THE  JESSAMY  BRIDE. 

From  the  feverish  dissipations  of  town,  Goldsmith  is  sum- 
moned away  to  partake  of  the  genial  dissipations  of  the  coun- 
try. In  the  month  of  December,  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Bunbury 
invites  him  down  to  Burton,  to  pass  the  Christmas  holidays. 
The  letter  is  written  in  the  usual  playful  vein  which  marks  his 
intercourse  with  this  charming  family.  He  is  to  come  in  his 
"  smart  spring- velvet  coat,"  to  bring  a  new  wig  to  dance  with 
the  haymakers  in,  and  above  all,  to  follow  the  advice  of  herself 
and  her  sister  (the  Jessamy  Bride),  in  playing  loo.  This  letter, 
which  plays  so  archly,  yet  kindly,  with  some  of  poor  Gold- 
smith's peculiarities,  and  bespeaks  such  real  ladylike  regard 
for  him,  requires  a  word  or  two  of  annotation.  The  spring- 
velvet  suit  alluded  to  appears  to  have  been  a  gallant  adorn- 
ment (somewhat  in  the  style  of  the  famous  bloom-colored  coat) 
in  which  Goldsmith  had  figured  in  the  preceding  month  of 
May — the  season  of  blossoms — for,  on  the  21st  of  that  month, 
•we  find  the  following  entry  in  the  chronicle  of  Mr.  William 
Filby ,  tailor :  To  your  blue  velvet  suit,  £21 10s.  9c?.  Also,  about 
the  same  time,  a  suit  of  livery  and  a  crimson  collar  for  the 
serving  man.  Again  we  hold  the  Jessamy  Bride  responsible 
for  this  gorgeous  splendor  of  wardrobe. 

The  new  wig  no  doubt  is  a  bag-wig  and  solitaire,  still  highly 
the  mode,  and  in  which  Goldsmith  is  represented  as  figuring 
when  in  full  dress,  equipped  with  his  sword. 

As  to  the  dancing  with  the  haymakers,  we  presume  it  al- 
ludes to  some  gambol  of  the  poet,  in  the  course  of  his  former 
visit  to  Barton ;  when  he  ranged  the  fields  and  lawns  a  char- 
tered libertine,  and  tumbled  into  the  fish-ponds. 

As  to  the  suggestions  about  loo,  they  are  in  sportive  allusion 
to  the  doctor's  mode  of  playing  that  game  in  their  merry 


206  OLIVER  G0LD8M1TE. 

evening  parties;  affecting  the  desperate  gambler  and  easy 
dupe ;  running  counter  to  all  rule ;  making  extravagant  ven- 
tures ;  reproaching  all  others  with  cowardice ;  dashing  at  all 
hazards  at  the  pool,  and  getting  himself  completely  loo'd,  to 
the  great  amusement  of  the  company.  The  drift  of  the  fair 
sisters'  advice  was  most  probably  to  tempt  him  on,  and  then 
leave  him  in  the  lurch. 

With  these  comments  we  subjoin  Goldsmith's  reply  to  Mrs, 
Bunbury,  a  fine  piece  of  off-hand,  humorous  writing,  which 
has  but  in  late  years  been  given  to  the  public,  and  which 
throws  a  familiar  light  on  the  social  circle  at  Barton. 

"Madam:  I  read  your  letter  with  all  that  allowance  which 
critical  candor  could  require,  but  after  all  find  so  much  to 
object  to,  and  so  much  to  raise  my  indignation,  that  I  cannot 
help  giving  it  a  serious  answer.  I  am  not  so  ignorant, 
madam,  as  not  to  see  there  are  many  sarcasms  contained  in  it, 
and  solecisms  also.  (Solecism  is  a  word  that  comes  from  the 
town  of  Soleis  in  Attica,  among  the  Greeks,  built  by  Solon, 
and  applied  as  we  use  the  word  Kidderminster  for  curtains 
from  a  town  also  of  that  name— but  this  is  learning  you  have 
no  taste  for!) — I  say,  madam,  there  are  many  sarcasms  in  it, 
and  solecisms  also.  But  not  to  seem  an  ill-natured  critic,  I'll 
take  leave  to  quote  your  own  words,  and  give  you  my 
remarks  upon  them  as  they  occur.     You  begin  as  follows : 

'  I  hope,  my  good  Doctor,  you  soon  will  be  here, 
And  your  spring- velvet  coat  very  smart  will  appear, 
To  open  our  ball  the  first  day  of  the  year.' 

"Pray,  madam,  where  did  you  ever  find  the  epithet  'good,' 
applied  to  the  title  of  doctor?  Had  you  called  me  'learned 
doctor,'  or  'grave  doctor,'  or  'noble  doctor,'  it  might  be 
allowable,  because  they  belong  to  the  profession.  But,  not  to 
cavil  at  trifles,  you  talk  of  'my  spring-velvet  coat,'  and  advise 
me  to  wear  it  the  first  day  in  the  year,  that  is,  in  the  middle 
of  winter !— a  spring- velvet  coat  in  the  middle  of  winter !  !  i 
That  would  be  a  solecism  indeed!  and  yet  to  increase  the 
inconsistence,  in  another  part  of  your  letter  you  call  me  a 
beau.  Now,  on  one  side  or  other  you  must  be  wrong.  If  I 
am  a  beau,  I  can  never  think  of  wearing  a  spring-velvet  in 
winter;  and  if  I  am  not  a  beau,  why  then,  that  explains 
itself.     But  let  me  go  on  to  your  two  next  strange  lines : 

'  And  bring  with  you  a  wig,  that  is  modish  and  gay, 
To  dance  with  the  girls  that  are  makers  of  hay.' 


OLIVER   QOLDSMITU.  207 

"The  absurdity  of  making  hay  at  Christmas  you  yourself 
seem  sensible  of:  you  say  your  sister  will  laugh;  and  so 
indeed  she  well  may!  The  Latins  have  an  expression  for  a 
contemptuous  kind  of  laughter,  'naso  contemnere  adxlnco;' 
that  is,  to  laugh  with  a  crooked  nose.  She  may  laugh  at  you 
in  the  manner  of  the  ancients  if  she  thinks  fit.  But  now  I 
come  to  the  most  extraordinary  of  all  extraordinary  proposi- 
tions, which  is,  to  take  your  and  your  sister's  advice  in 
playing  at  loo.  The  presumption  of  the  offer  raises  my  indig- 
nation beyond  the  bounds  of  prose;  it  inspires  me  at  once 
with  verse  and  resentment.  I  take  advice !  and  from  whom? 
You  shall  hear. 

"  First  let  me  suppose,  what  may  shortly  be  true, 
The  company  set,  and  the  word  to  be  Loo: 
All  smirking-,  and  pleasant,  and  big  with  adventure, 
And  ogling  the  stake  which  is  fix'd  in  the  centre. 
Round  and  round  go  the  cards,  while  I  inwardly  damn 
At  never  once  finding  a  visit  from  Pam. 
I  lay  down  my  stake,  apparently  cool, 
While  the  harpies  about  me  all  pocket  the  pool. 
I  fret  in  my  gizzard,  yet,  cautious  and  sly, 
I  wish  all  my  friends  may  be  bolder  than  I: 
Yet  still  they  sit  snug,  not  a  creature  will  aim 
By  losing  their  money  to  venture  at  fame. 
'Tis  in  vain  that  at  niggardly  caution  I  scold, 
"Tis  in  vain  that  I  flatter  the  brave  and  the  bold: 
All  play  their  own  way,  and  they  think  me  an  ass,  .  .  . 
'What  does  Mrs.  Bunbury? '  .  .  .  '  I,  sir?    I  pass.' 
'  Pray  what  does  Miss  Horneck?  take'courage,  come  do,'  .  . 
'  Who,  I?  let  me  see,  sir,  why  I  must  pass  too.' 
Mr.  Bunbury  frets,  and  I  fret  like  the  devil. 
To  see  them  so  cowardly,  lucky,  and  civil. 
Yet  still  I  sit  snug,  and  continue  to  sigh  on, 
Till,  made  by  my  losses  as  bold  as  a  lion, 
I  venture  at  all,  while  my  avarice  regards 
The  whole  pool  as  my  own.  .  .  .  '  Come  give  me  five  cards.' 
'Well  done! '  cry  the  ladies;  'Ah,  Doctor,  that's  good! 
The  pool's  very  rich,  ...  ah !  the  Doctor  is  loo'd ! ' 
Thus  foil'd  in  my  courage,  on  all  sides  perplext, 
I  ask  for  advice  from  the  lady  that's  next: 
'  Pray,  ma'am,  be  so  good  as  to  give  your  advice; 
Don't  you  think  the  best  way  is  to  venture  for't  twice? ' 
'  I  advise,'  cries  the  lady,  '  to  try  it,  I  own.  .  .  . 
'All!  the  Doctor  is  loo'd!    Come,  Doctor,  put  down.' 
Thus,  playing,  and  playing.  I  still  grow  more  eager, 
And  so  bold,  and  so  bold,  I'm  at  last  a  bold  beggar. 
Now,  ladies,  I  ask,  if  law-matters  you're  skill' d  in, 
Whether  crimes  such  as  yours  should  not  come  before  Fielding; 
For  giving  advice  that  is  not  worth  a  straw. 
May  well  be  call'd  picking  of  pockets  in  law  : 
And  picking  of  pockets,  with  which  I  now  charge  ye, 
Is,  by  quinto  Elizabeth,  Death  without  Clergy. 


gOg  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

What  justice,  when  both  to  the  Old  Bailey  brought! 
By  the  gods,  I'll  enjoy  it,  tho'  'tis  but  in  thought  1 
Both  are  plae'd  at  the  bar,  with  all  proper  decorum, 
With  bunches  of  fennel,  and  nosegays  before  'em; 
'    Both  cover  their  faces  with  mobs  and  all  that, 
But  the  judge  bids  them,  angrily,  take  off  their  hat. 
When  uncover'd,  a  buzz  of  inquiry  runs  round, 
'Pray  what  are  their  crimes?'  .  .  .  .'  They've  been  pilfering  found.1 
'But,  pray,  who  have  they  pilfer'd?  '  .  .  .  '  A  doctor,  I  hear.' 
'  What,  yon  solemn-faced,  odd-looking  man  that  stands  near? ' 
'The  same.'  .  .  .  '  What  a  pity!  how  does  it  surprise  one, 
Two  handsomer  culprits  1  never  set  eyes  on! ' 
Then  their  friends  all  come  round  me  with  cringin^and  leering, 
To  melt  me  to  pity,  and  soften  my  swearing. 
First  Sir  Charles  advances  with  phrases  well-strung, 
'Consider,  dear  Doctor,  the  girls  are  but  young.' 
'  The  younger  the  wrose,'  I  return  him  again, 
'  It  shows  that  their  habits  are  all  dyed  in  grain.' 
'  But  then  they're  so  handsome,  one's  bosom  it  grieves.' 
'What  signifies  handsome,  when  people  are  thieves? ' 
'But  where  is  your  justice?  their  cases  are  hard.' 
'  What  signifies  justice?    I  want  the  reward. 


<t  < 


There's  the  parish  of  Edmonton  offers  forty  pounds  s 
there's  the  parish  of  St.  Leonard  Shoreditch  offers  forty 
pounds;  there's  the  parish  of  Tyburn,  from  the  Hog-in-the- 
pound  to  St.  Giles'  watch-house,  offers  forty  pounds— I  shall 
have  all  that  if  I  convict  them ! ' — 

" '  But  consider  their  case,  ...  it  may  yet  be  your  ownl 
And  see  how  they  kneel !    Is  your  heart  made  of  stone?' 
This  moves !  .  .  .  so  at  last  I  agree  to  relent, 
For  ten  pounds  in  hand,  and  ten  pounds  to  be  spent. 

"I  challenge  you  all  to  answer  this:  I  tell  you,  you  cannot. 
It  cuts  deep.  But  now  for  the  rest  of  the  letter :  and  next — but 
I  want  room— so  I  believe  I  shall  battle  the  rest  out  at  Barton 
some  day  next  week.    I  don't  value  you  all ! 

"O.  a." 

"We  regret  that  we  have  no  record  of  this  Christmas  visit  to 
Barton;  that  the  poet  had  no  Boswell  to  follow  at  his  heels, 
and  take  note  of  all  his  sayings  and  doings.  We  can  only 
picture  him  in  our  minds,  casting  off  all  care ;  enacting  the  lord 
of  misrule;  presiding  at  the  Christmas  revels;  providing  all 
kinds  of  merriment ;  keeping  the  card-table  in  an  uproar,  and 
finally  opening  the  ball  on  the  first  day  of  the  year  in  his 
spring- velvet  suit,  with  the  Jessamy  Bride  for  a  partner. 


0L1VKU   GOLDSMITH.  209 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

THEATRICAL  DELAYS— NEGOTIATIONS  WITH  COLMAN— LETTER  TO 
GARRICK — CROAKING  OF  THE  MANAGER—NAMING  OF  THE  PLAY 
—SHE  STOOPS  TO  CONQUER— FOOTE'S  PRIMITIVE  PUPPET-SI  i<  >\\  , 
PIETY  ON  PATTENS— FIRST  PERFORMANCE  OF  THE  COMEDY- 
AGITATION  OF  THE  AUTHOR— SUCCESS— COLMAN  SQUIBBED  OUT 
OF  TOWN. 

The  gay  life  depicted  in  the  two  last  chapters,  while  it  kept 
Goldsmith  in  a  state  of  continual  excitement,  aggravated  the 
malady  which  was  impairing  his  constitution ;  yet  his  increas- 
ing perplexities  in  money  matters  drove  him  to  the  dissipation 
of  society  as  a  relief  from  solitary  care.  The  delays  of  the 
theatre  added  to  those  perplexities.  He  had  long  since  finished 
his  new  comedy,  yet  the  year  1772  passed  away  without  his 
being  able  to  get  it  on  the  stage.  No  one,  uninitiated  in  the 
interior  of  a  theatre,  that  little  world  of  traps  and  trickery, 
can  have  any  idea  of  the  obstacles  and  perplexities  multiplied 
in  the  way  of  the  most  eminent  and  successful  author  by  the 
mismanagement  of  managers,  the  jealousies  and  intrigues  of 
rival  authors,  and  the  fantastic  and  impertinent  caprices  of 
actors.  A  long  and  baffling  negotiation  was  carried  on  between 
Goldsmith  and  Colman,  the  manager  of  Covent  Garden ;  who 
retained  the  play  in  his  hands  until  the  middle  of  January 
(1773),  without  coming  to  a  decision.  The  theatrical  season 
was  rapidly  passing  away,  and  Goldsmith's  pecuniary  difficul- 
ties were  augmenting  and  pressing  on  him.  We  may  judge  of 
his  anxiety  by  the  following  letter: 

"  To  George  Colman,  Esq. 

' '  Dear  Sir  :  I  entreat  you'll  relieve  me  from  that  state  of 
suspense  in  which  I  have  been  kept  for  a  long  time.  Whatever 
objections  you  have  made  or  shall  make  to  my  play,  I  will  en- 
deavor to  remove  and  not  argue  about  them.  To  bring  in  any 
new  judges  either  of  its  merits  or  faults  I  can  never  submit  to. 
Upon  a  former  occasion,  when  my  other  play  was  before  Mr. 
Garrick,  he  offered  to  bring  me  before  Mr.  Whitehead's  tribu- 
nal, but  I  refused  the  proposal  with  indignation:  I  hope  I  shall 
not  experience  as  harsh  treatment  from  you  as  from  him.     I 


210  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

have,  as  you  know,  a  large  sum  of  money  to  make  up  shortly ; 
by  accepting  my  play,  I  can  readily  satisfy  my  creditor  that 
way ;  at  any  rate,  I  must  look  about  to  some  certainty  to  be 
prepared.  For  God's  sake  take  the  play,  and  let  us  make  the 
best  of  it,  and  let  me  have  the  same  measure,  at  least,  which 
you  have  given  as  bad  plays  as  mine. 

' '  I  am  your  friend  and  servant, 

"Oliver  Goldsmith." 

Colman  returned  the  manuscript  with  the  blank  sides  of  the 
leaves  scored  with  disparaging  comments  and  suggested  alter- 
ations, but  with  the  intimation  that  the  faith  of  the  theatre 
should  be  kept,  and  the  play  acted  notwithstanding.  Gold- 
smith submitted  the  criticisms  to  some  of  his  friends,  who  pro- 
nounced them  trivial,  unfair,  and  contemptible,  and  intimated 
that  Colman,  being  a  dramatic  writer  himself,  might  be  actu- 
ated by  jealousy.  The  play  was'  then  sent,  with  Colman's 
comments  written  on  it,  to  Garrick ;  but  he  had  scarce  sent  it 
when  Johnson  interfered,  represented  the  evil  that  might  result 
frdm  an  apparent  rejection  of  it  by  Covent  Garden,  and  under- 
took to  go  forthwith  to  Colman,  and  have  a  talk  with  him  on 
the  subject.  Goldsmith,  therefore,  penned  the  following  note 
to  Garrick : 

"  Dear  Sir:  I  ask  many  pardons  for  the  trouble  I  gave  you 
yesterday.  Upon  more  mature  deliberation,  and  the  advice  of 
a  sensible  friend,  I  began  to  think  it  indelicate  in  me  to  throw 
upon  you  the  odium  of  confirming  Mr.  Column's*  sentence.  I 
therefore  request  you  will  send  my  play  back  by  my  servant ; 
for  having  been  assured  of  having  it  acted  at  the  other  house, 
though  I  confess  yours  in  every  respect  more  to  my  wish,  yet 
it  would  be  folly  in  me  to  forego  an  advantage  which  lies  in 
my  power  of  appealing  from  Mr.  Colman's  opinion  to  the 
judgment  of  the  town.  I  entreat,  if  not  too  late,  you  will  keep 
tins  affair  a  secret  for  some  time. 

' '  I  am,  dear  sir,  your  very  humble  servant, 

"Oliver  Goldsmith." 

The  negotiation  of  Johnson  with  the  manager  of  Covent 
Garden  was  effective.  " Colman,"  he  says,  "was  prevailed  on 
at  last,  by  much  solicitation,  nay,  a  kind  of  force,"  to  bring 
forward  the  comedy.  Still  the  manager  was  ungenerous ;  or, 
at  least,  indiscreet  enough  to  express  his  opinion,  that  it  would 
not  reach  a  second  representation.    The  plot,  he  said,  was  bad, 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  211 

and  the  interest  not  sustained;  "it  dwindled,  and  dwindled, 
and  at  last  went  out  like  the  snuff  of  a  candle. "  The  effect  of 
his  croaking  was  soon  apparent  within  the  walls  of  the  theatre. 
Two  of  the  most  popular  actors,  Woodward  and  Gentleman 
Smith,  to  whom  the  parts  of  Tony  Lumpkin  and  Young  Mar- 
low  were  assigned,  refused  to  act  them ;  one  of  them  alleging, 
in  excuse,  the  evil  predictions  of  the  manager.  Goldsmith  was 
advised  to  postpone  the  performance  of  his  play  until  he  could 
get  these  important  parts  well  supplied.  "No,"  said  he,  "I 
would  sooner  that  my  play  were  damned  by  bad  players  than 
merely  saved  by  good  acting." 

Quick  was  substituted  for  Woodward  in  Tony  Lumpkin,  and 
Lee  Lewis,  the  harlequin  of  the  1  heatre,  J'or  Gentleman  Smith 
in  Young  Marlow ;  and  both  did  justice  to  their  parts. 

Great  interest  was  taken  by  Goldsmith's  friends  in  the  suc- 
cess of  his  piece.  The  rehearsals  were  attended  by  Johnson, 
Cradock,  Murphy,  Reynolds  and  his  sister,  and  the  whole  Hor- 
neck  connection,  including,  of  course,  the  Jessamy  Bride, 
whose  presence  may  have  contributed  to  nutter  the  anxious 
heart  of  the  author.  The  rehearsals  went  off  with  great  ap- 
plause, but  that  Colman  attributed  to  the  partiality  of  friends. 
He  continued  to  croak,  and  refused  to  risk  any  expense  in  new 
scenery  or  dresses  on  a  play  which  he  was  sure  would  prove  a 
failure. 

The  time  was  at  hand  for  the  first  representation,  and  as  yet 
the  comedy  was  without  a  title.  ' '  We  are  all  in  labor  for  a 
name  for  Goldy's  play,"  said  Johnson,  who,  as  usual,  took  a 
kind  of  fatherly  protecting  interest  in  poor  Goldsmith's  affairs. 
The  Old  House  a  New  Inn  was  thought  of  for  a  time,  but  still 
did  not  please.  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  proposed  The  Belle's 
Stratagem,  an  elegant  title,  but  not  considered  applicable,  the 
perplexities  of  the  comedy  being  produced  by  the  mistake  of 
the  hero,  not  the  stratagem  of  the  heroine.  The  name  was 
afterward  adopted  by  Mrs.  Cowley  for  one  of  her  comedies. 
The  Mistakes  of  a  Night  was  the  title  at  length  fixed  upon,  to 
which  Goldsmith  prefixed  the  words  She  Stoops  to  Conquer. 

The  evil  bodings  of  Colman  still  continued ;  they  were  even 
communicated  in  the  box  office  to  the  servant  of  the  Duke  of 
Gloucester,  who  was  sent  to  engage  a  box.  Never  did  the  play 
of  a  popular  writer  struggle  into  existence  through  more  diffi- 
culties. 

In  the  meantime  Foote's  Primitive  Puppetshow,  entitled  the 
Handsome  Housemaid,  or  Piety  on  Pattens,  had  been  brought 


212  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

out  at  the  Haymarket  on  the  15th  of  February.  All  the  world, 
fashionable  and  unfashionable,  had  crowded  to  the  theatre. 
The  street  was  thronged  with  equipages  —  the  doors  were 
stormed  by  the  mob.  The  burlesque  was  completely  success- 
ful, and  sentimental  comedy  received  its  quietus.  Even  Gar- 
rick,  who  had  recently  befriended  it,  now  gave  it  a  kick,  as  he 
saw  it  going  down  hill,  and  sent  Goldsmith's  humorous  pro- 
logue to  help  his  comedy  of  the  opposite  school.  Garrick  and 
Goldsmith,  however,  were  now  on  very  cordial  terms,  to  which 
the  social  meetings  in  the  circle  of  the  Hornecks  and  Bunburys 
may  have  contributed. 

On  the  15th  of  March  the  new  comedy  was  to  be  performed. 
Those  who  had  stood  up  for  its  merits,  and  been  irritated  and 
disgusted  by  the  treatment  it  had  received  from  the  manager, 
determined  to  muster  their  forces,  and  aid  in  giving  it  a  good 
launch  upon  the  town.  The  particidars  of  this  confederation, 
and  its  triumphant  success,  are  amusingly  told  by  Cumberland 
in  Ins  memoirs. 

"We  were  not  over  sanguine  of  success,  but  perfectly  de- 
termined to  struggle  hard  for  our  author.  We  accordingly 
assembled  our  strength  at  the  Shakespeare  tavern,  in  a  con- 
siderable body,  for  an  early  dinner,  where  Samuel  Johnson 
took  the  chair  at  the  head  of  a  long  table,  and  was  the  life  and 
soul  of  the  corps :  the  poet  took  post  silently  by  his  side,  with 
the  Burkes,  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  Fitzherbert,  Caleb  White- 
foord,  and  a  phalanx  of  North  British,  predetermined  applaud- 
ers,  under  the  banner  of  Major  Mills,  all  good  men  and  true. 
Our  illustrious  president  was  in  inimitable  glee;  and  poor 
Goldsmith  that  day  took  all  his  raillery  as  patiently  and  com- 
placently as  my  friend  Boswell  would  have  done  any  day  or 
every  day  of  his  life.  In  the  meantime,  we  did  not  forget  our 
duty;  and  though  we  had  a  better  comedy  going,  in  which 
Johnson  was  chief  actor,  we  betook  ourselves  in  good  time  to 
our  separate  and  allotted  posts,  and  waited  the  awful  drawing 
up  of  the  curtain.  As  our  stations  were  preconcerted,  so  were 
our  signals  for  plaudits  arranged  and  determined  upon  in  a 
manner  that  gave  every  one  his  cue  where  to  look  for  them, 
and  how  to  follow  them  up. 

"We  had  among  us  a  very  worthy  and  efficient  member, 
long  since  lost  to  his  friends  and  the  world  at  large,  Adam 
Drummond,  of  amiable  memory,-who  was  gifted  by  nature 
with  the  most  sonorous,  and  at  the  same  time,  the  most  con- 
tagious laugh  that  ever  echoed  from  the  human  lungs.     The 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  213 

neighing  of  the  horse  of  the  son  of  Hystaspes  was  a  whisper  to 
it;  the  whole  thunder  of  the  theatre  could  not  drown  it.  This 
kind  and  ingenious  friend  fairly  forewarned  us  that  he  knew 
no  more  when  to  give  his  fire  than  the  cannon  did  that  was 
planted  on  a  battery.  He  desired,  therefore,  to  have  a  flapper 
at  Ms  elbow,  and  I  had  the  honor  to  be  deputed  to  that  office. 
I  planted  him  in  an  upper  box,  pretty  nearly  over  the  stage,  in 
full  view  of  the  pit  and  galleries,  and  perfectly  well  situated  to 
give  the  echo  all  its  play  through  the  hollows  and  recesses  of 
the  theatre.  The  success  of  our  manoeuvre  was  complete. 
AU  eyes  were  upon  Johnson,  who  sat  in  a  front  row  of  a  side 
box;  and  when  he  laughed,  everybody  thought  themselves 
warranted  to  roar.  In  the  meantime,  my  friend  followed 
signals  with  a  rattle  so  irresistibly  comic  that,  when  he  had 
repeated  it  several  times,  the  attention  of  the  spectators  was  so 
engrossed  by  his  person  and  performances,  that  the  progress 
of  the  play  seemed  likely  to  become  a  secondary  object,  and  I 
found  it  prudent  to  insinuate  to  him  that  he  might  halt  his 
music  without  any  prejudice  to  the  author ;  but  alas !  it  was 
now  too  late  to  rein  Mm  in;  he  had  laughed  upon  my  signal 
where  he  found  no  joke,  and  now,  unluckily,  he  fancied  that, 
he  found  a  joke  in  almost  everything  that  was  said;  so  that 
nothing  in  nature  could  be  more  mal-apropos  than  some  of 
his  bursts  every  now  and  then  were.  These  were  dangerous 
moments,  for  the  pit  began  to  take  umbrage;  but  we  carried 
our  point  through,  and  triumphed  not  only  over  Colman's 
judgment,  but  our  own. " 

Much  of  this  statement  has  been  condemned  as  exaggerated 
or  discolored.  Cumberland's  memoirs  have  generally  been 
characterized  as  partaking  of  romance,  and  in  the  present  in- 
stance he  had  particular  motives  for  tampering  with  the  truth. 
He  was  a  dramatic  writer  himself,  jealous  of  the  success  of  a 
rival,  and  anxious  to  have  it  attributed  to  the  private  manage- 
ment of  friends.  According  to  various  accounts,  public  and 
private,  such  management  was  unnecessary,  for  the  piece  was 
"received  throughout  with  the  greatest  acclamations." 

Goldsmith  in  the  present  instance,  had  not  dared,  as  on  a 
former  occasion,  to  be  present  at  the  first  performance.  He 
had  been  so  overcome  by  his  apprehensions  that,  at  the  pre- 
paratory dinner  he  could  hardly  utter  a  word,  and  was  so 
choked  that  he  could  not  swallow  a  mouthful.  When  his 
friends  trooped  to  the  theatre,  he  stole  away  to  St.  James' 
Park :  there  he  was  found  by  a  friend  between  seven  and  eight 


214  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

o'clock,  wandering  up  and  down  the  Mall  like  a  troubled  spirit. 
With  difficulty  he  was  persuaded  to  go  to  the  theatre,  where 
his  presence  might  be  important  should  any  alteration  be 
necessary.  He  arrived  at  the  opening  of  the  fifth  act,  and 
made  his  way  behind  the  scenes.  Just  as  he  entered  there  was 
a  shght  hiss  at  the  improbability  of  Tony  Lumpkin's  trick  on 
his  mother,  in  persuading  her  she  was  forty  miles  off,  on  Crack- 
skull  Common,  though  she  had  been  trundled  about  on  hei 
own  grounds.  "What's  that?  what's  that!"  cried  Goldsmith 
to  the  manager,  in  great  agitation.  "Pshaw!  Doctor,"  replied 
Colman,  sarcastically,  "don't  be  frightened  at  a  squib,  when 
we've  been  sitting  these  two  hours  on  a  barrel  of  gunpowder!" 
Though  of  a  most  forgiving  nature  Goldsmith  did  not  easily 
forget  this  ungracious  and  ill-timed  sally. 

If  Colman  was  indeed  actuated  by  the  paltry  motives  as- 
cribed to  him  in  his  treatment  of  this  play,  he  was  most  am- 
ply punished  by  its  success,  and  by  the  taunts,  epigrams,  and 
censures  levelled  at  him  through  the  press,  in  which  his  false 
prophecies  were  jeered  at ;  his  critical  judgment  called  in  ques- 
tion ;  and  he  was  openly  taxed  with  literary  jealousy.  So 
galling  and  unremitting  was  the  fire,  that  he  at  length  wrote 
to  Goldsmith  entreating  him  "to  take  him  off  the  rack  of  the 
newspapers ; "  in  the  meantime,  to  escape  the  laugh  that  was 
raised  about  him  in  the  theatrical  world  of  London,  he  took 
refuge  in  Bath  during  the  triumphant  career  of  the  comedy. 

The  following  is  one  of  the  many  squibs  which  assailed  the 
ears  of  the  manager  : 

To  George  Colman,  Esq. 

ON  THE  SUCCESS   OF  Dtt.    GOLDSMITH'S   NEW  COMEDY. 

"  Come,  Coley.  doff  those  mourning  weeds, 
Nor  thus  with  jokes  Ik  flamm'd; 
Tho'  Goldsmith's  present  play  succeeds, 
His  next  may  still  be  damm'd. 

As  this  has  scaped  without  a  fall, 

To  sink  his  next  prepare ; 
New  actors  hire  from  Wapping  Wall, 

And  dresses  from  Rag  Fair. 

For  scenes  let  tatter'd  blankets  fly, 

The  prologue  Kelly  write; 
Then  swear  again  the  piece  must  die 

Before  the  author's  night. 

Should  these  tricks  fail,  the  lucky  elf, 

To  bring  to  lasting  shami  . 
E'eu  write  the  best  you  can  >/o»rself, 

And  print  it  in  his  name." 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  215 

The  solitary  hiss,  which  had  startled  Goldsmith,  was  as- 
cribed by  some  of  the  newspaper  scribblers  to  Cumberland 
himself,  who  was  "manifestly  miserable"  at  the  delight  of  the 
audience,  or  to  Ossian  Macpherson,  who  was  hostile  to  the 
whole  Johnson  clique,  or  to  Goldsmith's  dramatic  rival,  Kelly. 
The  following  is  one  of  the  epigrams  which  appeared : 

"  At  Dr.  Goldsmith's  merry  play, 
All  the  spectators  laugh,  they  say: 
The  assertion,  sir,  I  must  deny, 
For  Cumberland  and  Kelly  cry. 

Ride,  si  sapis." 

Another,  addressed  to  Goldsmith,  alludes  to  Kelly's  early 
apprenticeship  to  stay-making : 

"  If  Kelly  finds  fault  with  the  shape  of  your  muse, 
And  thinks  that  too  loosely  it  plays, 
He  surely,  dear  Doctor,  will  never  refuse 
To  make  it  a  new  Pah-  of  Stays  /" 

Cradock  had  returned  to  the  country  before  the  production 
of  the  play;  the  following  letter,  written  just  after  the  per- 
formance, gives  an  additional  picture  of  the  thorns  which  be- 
set an  author  in  the  path  of  theatrical  literature : 


n 


My  dear  Sir  :  The  play  has  met  with  a  success  much  be- 
yond your  expectations  or  mine.  I  thank  you  sincerely  for 
your  epilogue,  which,  however,  could  not  be  used,  but  with 
your  permission  shall  be  printed.  The  story  in  short  is  this. 
Murphy  sent  me  rather  the  outline  of  an  epilogue  than  an 
epilogue,  which  was  to  be  sung  by  Miss  Catley,  and  which  she 
approved ;  Mrs.  Bulkley  hearing  this,  insisted  on  throwing  up 
her  part"  (Miss  Hardcastle)  "unless,  according  to  the  custom 
of  the  theatre  she  were  permitted  to  speak  the  epilogue.  In 
this  embarrassment  I  thought  of  making  a  quarrelling  epilogue 
between  Catley  and  her,  debating  who  should  speak  the 
epilogue ;  but  then  Mrs.  Catley  refused  after  I  had  taken  the 
trouble  of  drawing  it  out.  I  was  then  at  a  loss  indeed;  an 
epilogue  was  to  be  made,  and  for  none  but  Mrs.  Bulkley.  I 
made  one,  and  Colman  thought  it  too  bad  to  be  spoken :  I  was 
obliged,  therefore,  to  try  a  fourth  time,  and  I  made  a  very 
mawkish  thing,  as  you'll  shortly  see.  Such  is  the  history  of 
my  stage  adventui'es,  and  which  I  have  at  last  done  with.  I 
cannot  help  saying  that  I  am  very  sick  of  the  stage;  and 
though  I  believe  I  shall  get  three  tolerable  benefits,  yet  I  shall, 
on  the  whole,  be  a  loser,  even  in  a  pecuniary  light ;  my  ease 
and  comfort  I  certainly  lost  while  it  was  in  agitation. 


21G  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

"I  am,  my  dear  Cradock,  your  obliged  and  obedient  ser- 
vant, 

"Oliver  Goldsmith. 
"  P.S.    Present  my  most  bumble  respects  to  Mrs.  Cradock." 

Jobnson,  wbo  bad  taken  sucb  a  conspicuous  part  in  promot- 
ing tbe  interests  of  poor  "  Goldy,"  was  triumphant  at  tbe  suc- 
cess of  tbe  piece.  "I  know  of  no  comedy  for  many  years," 
said  be,  ' '  tbat  bas  so  mucb  exhilarated  an  audience ;  that  has 
answered  so  mucb  the  great  end  of  comedy — making  an  au- 
dience merry." 

Goldsmith  was  happy,  also,  in  gleaning  applause  from  less 
authoritative  sources.  Northcote,  the  painter,  then  a  youth- 
fid  pupd  of  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds ;  and  Ralph,  Sir  Joshua's  con- 
fidential man,  had  taken  their  stations  in  the  gallery  to  lead 
the  applause  in  that  quarter.  Goldsmith  asked  Northcote's 
opinion  of  the  play.  The  youth  modestly  declared  he  could 
not  presume  to  judge  in  such  matters.  ' '  Did  it  make  you 
laugh?"  "Ob,  exceedingly!"  "That  is  all  I  require, "  replied 
G  oldsmith ;  and  rewarded  him  for  his  criticism  by  box-tickets 
for  his  first  benefit  night. 

The  comedy  was  immediately  put  to  press,  and  dedicated  to 
Johnson  in  the  following  grateful  and  affectionate  terms : 

"  In  inscribing  this  slight  performance  to  you,  I  do  not  mean 
so  much  to  compliment  you  as  myself.  It  may  do  me  some 
honor  to  inform  the  public,  that  I  have  lived  many  years  in 
intimacy  with  you.  It  may  serve  the  interests  of  mankind 
also  to  inform  them  that  tbe  greatest  wit  may  be  found  in  a 
character,  without  impairing  the  most  unaffected  piety." 

The  copyright  was  transferred  to  Mr.  Newberry,  according 
to  agreement,  whose  profits  on  the  sale  of  tbe  work  far  ex- 
ceeded tbe  debts  for  which  the  author  in  his  perplexities  bad 
pre-engaged  it.  The  sum  which  accrued  to  Goldsmith  from  his 
benefit  nights  afforded  but  a  slight  palliation  of  his  pecuniary 
difficulties.  His  friends,  whde  they  exulted  in  his  success, 
little  knew  of  his  continually  increasing  embarrassments,  and 
of  the  anxiety  of  mind  which  kept  tasking  his  pen  while  it  im- 
paired the  ease  and  freedom  of  spirit  necessary  to  felicitous 
composition- 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  217 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

A    NEWSPAPER    ATTACK — THE     EVANS    AFFRAY— JOHNSON'S    COM- 
MENT. 

I  The  triumphant  success  of  She  Stoojis  to  Conquer  brought 
forth,  of  course,  those  carpings  and  cavillings  of  underling 
scribblers,  which  are  the  thorns  and  briers  in  the  path  of  suc- 
cessful authors. 

Goldsmith,  though  easily  nettled  by  attacks  of  the  kind, 
was  at  present  too  well  satisfied  with  the  reception  of  his 
comedy  to  heed  them;  but  the  following  anonymous  left.1!-, 
which  appeared  in  a  public  paper,  was  not  to  be  taken  with 
equal  equanimity : 

"  For  the  London  Packet. 

"to  dr.  goldsmith. 

' '  Vous  vous  noyez  par  vanite. 

"Sir:  The  happy  knack  which  you  have  learned  of  puffing 
your  own  compositions,  provokes  me  to  come  forth.  You 
have  not  been  the  editor  of  newspapers  and  magazines  not  to 
discover  the  trick  of  literary  humbug  ;  but  the  gauze  is  so  thin 
than  the  very  foolish  part  of  the  world  sec  through  it,  and  dis- 
cover the  doctor's  monkey  face  and  cloven  foot.  Your  poetic 
vanity  is  as  unpardonable  as  your  personal.  Would  man  be- 
lieve it,  and  will  woman  bear  it,  to  be  told  that  for  hours  the 
great  Goldsmith  will  stand  surveying  his  grotesque  orang- 
outang's figure  in  a  pier-glass?  "Was  but  the  lovely  H— k  as 
much  enamored,  you  would  not  sigh,  my  gentle  swain,  in 
vain.  But  your  vanity  is  preposterous.  How  will  this  same 
bard  of  Bedlam  ring  the  changes  in  the  praise  of  Goldy! 
But  what  has  he  to  be  either  proud  or  vain  of  ?  '  The  Trav- 
eller '  is  a  flimsy  poem,  built  upon  false  principles — principles 
diametrically  opposite  to  liberty.  What  is  The  Good- Na hired 
Man  but  a  poor,  water-gruel  dramatic  dose  ?  What  is  '  The 
Deserted  Village '  but  a,  pretty  poem  of  easy  numbers,  without 
fancy,  dignity,  genius,  or  fire  ?  And,  pray,  what  may  be  the 
last  speaking  pantomime,  so  praised  by  the  doctor  himself,  but 
an  incoherent  piece  of  stuff,  the  figure  of  a  woman  with  a  fish's 


218  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

tail,  without  plot,  incident,  or  intrigue?  We  are  made  to 
laugh  at  stale,  dull  jokes,  wherein  we  mistake  pleasantry  for 
wit,  and  grimace  for  humor ;  wherein  every  scene  is  unnatural 
and  inconsistent  with  the  rules,  the  laws  of  nature  and  of  the 
drama;  viz.,  two  gentlemen  come  to  a  man  of  fortune's  house, 
eat,  drink,  etc.,  and  take  it  for  an  inn.  The  one  is  intended 
as  a  lover  for  the  daughter ;  he  talks  with  her  for  some  hours ; 
and,  when  he  sees  her  again  in  a  different  dress,  he  treats  her 
as  a  bar-girl,  and  swears  she  squinted.  He  abuses  the  master 
of  the  house,  and  threatens  to  kick  him  out  of  his  own  doors. 
The  squire,  whom  we  are  told  is  to  be  a  fool,  proves  to  be  the 
most  sensible  being  of  the  piece ;  and  he  makes  out  a  whole  act 
by  bidding  his  mother  lie  close  behind  a  bush,  persuading  her 
that  his  father,  her  own  husband,  is  a  highwayman,  and  that 
he  has  come  to  cut  their  throats,  and,  to  give  his  cousin  an 
opportunity  to  go  off,  he  drives  his  mother  over  hedges, 
ditches,  and  through  ponds.  There  is  not,  sweet,  sucking 
Johnson,  a  natural  stroke  in  the  whole  play  but  the  young 
fellow's  giving  the  stolen  jewels  to  the  mother,  supposing  her 
to  be  the  landlady.  That  Mr.  Colman  did  no  justice  to  this 
piece,  I  honestly  allow ;  that  he  told  all  his  friends  it  woidd  be 
damned,  I  positively  aver ;  and,  from  such  ungenerous  insinu- 
ations, without  a  dramatic  merit,  it  rose  to  public  notice,  and 
it  is  now  the  ton  to  go  and  see  it,  though  I  never  saw  a  person 
that  either  liked  it  or  approved  it,  any  more  than  the  absurd 
plot  of  Home's  tragedy  of  Alonzo.  Mr.  Goldsmith,  correct 
your  arrogance,  reduce  your  vanity,  and  endeavor  to  believe, 
as  a  man,  you  are  of  the  plainest  sort ;  and  as  an  author,  but  a 
mortal  piece  of  mediocrity. 

"  Brise  le  miroir  infidele 
Qui  vous  cache  la  veritS. 

"  Tom  Tickle." 

It  would  be  difficult  to  devise  a  letter  more  calculated  to 
wound  the  peculiar  sensibilities  of  Goldsmith.  The  attacks 
upon  him  as  an  author,  though  annoying  enough,  he  could 
have  tolerated;  but  then  the  allusion  to  Ins  ''grotesque"  per- 
son, to  his  studious  attempts  to  adorn  it ;  and  above  all,  to  his 
being  an  unsuccessful  admirer  of  the  lovely  H — k  (the  Jessamy 
Bride),  struck  rudely  upon  the -most  sensitive  part  of  his 
highly  sensitive  nature.  The  paragraph,  it  was  said,  was 
first  pointed  out  to  him  by  an  officious  friend,  an  Irishman, 
who  told  him    he  was  bound  in  honor  to  resent  it;  but  he 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  219 

needed  no  such  prompting.  He  was  in  a  high  state  of  excite- 
ment and  indignation,  and  accompanied  by  his  friend,  who  is 
said  to  have  been  a  Captain  Higgins,  of  the  marines,  he  re- 
paired to  Paternoster  Row,  to  the  shop  of  Evans,  the  pub- 
lisher, whom  he  supposed  to  be  the  editor  of  the  paper.  Evans 
was  summoned  by  his  shopman  from  an  adjoining  room. 
Goldsmith  announced  his  name.  "I  have  called, "  added  he, 
' '  in  consequence  of  a  scurrilous  attack  made  upon  me,  and  an 
unwarrantable  liberty  taken  with  the  name  of  a  young  lady. 
As  for  myself,  I  care  little ;  but  her  name  must  not  be  sported 
with." 

Evans  professed  utter  ignorance  of  the  matter,  and  said  he 
would  speak  to  the  editor.  He  stooped  to  examine  a  file  of 
the  paper,  in  search  of  the  o  ff ensive  article ;  whereupon  Gold- 
smith's friend  gave  him  a  signal,  that  now  was  a  favorable 
moment  for  the  exercise  of  his  cane.  The  hint  was  taken  as 
quick  as  given,  and  the  cane  was  vigorously  applied  to  the 
back  of  the  stooping  publisher.  The  latter  rallied  in  an  in- 
stant, and,  being  a  stout,  high-blooded  Welshman,  returned 
the  blows  with  interest.  A  lamp  hanging  overhead  was 
broken,  and  sent  down  a  shower  of  oil  upon  the  combatants ; 
but  the  battle  raged  with  unceasing  fury.  The  shopman  ran 
off  for  a  constable ;  but  Dr.  Kendrick,  who  happened  to  be  in 
the  adjacent  room,  sallied  forth,  interfered  between  the  com- 
batants, and  put  an  end  to  the  affray.  He  conducted  Gold- 
smith to  a  coach,  in  exceedingly  battered  and  tattered  plight, 
and  accompanied  him  home,  soothing  him  with  much  mock 
commiseration,  though  he  was  generally  suspected,  and  on 
good  grounds,  to  be  the  author  of  the  libel. 

Evans  immediately  instituted  a  suit  against  Goldsmith  for 
an  assault,  but  was  ultimately  prevailed  upon  to  compromise 
the  matter,  the  poet  contributing  fifty  pounds  to  the  Welsh 
charity. 

Newspapers  made  themselves,  as  may  well  be  supposed,  ex- 
ceedingly merry  with  the  combat.  Some  censured  him  severely 
for  invading  the  sanctity  of  a  man's  own  house ;  others  accused 
him  of  having,  in  his  former  capacity  of  editor  of  a  maga- 
zine, been  guilty  of  the  very  offences  that  he  now  resented  in 
others.    This  drew  from  him  the  following  vindication : 

"  To  the  Public. 


a 


Lest  it  should  be  supposed  that  I  have  been  willing  to 
correct  in  others  an  abuse  of  which  I  have  been  guilty  myself, 


220  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

I  beg  leave  to  declare,  that,  in  all  my  life,  I  never  wrote  or 
dictated  a  single  paragraph,  letter,  or  essay  in  a  newspaper, 
except  a  few  moral  essays  under  the  character  of  a  Chinese, 
about  ten  years  ago,  in  the  Ledger,  and  a  letter,  to  which  I 
signed  my  name  in  the  St.  James1  Chronicle.  If  the  liberty  of 
the  press,  therefore,  has  been  abused,  I  have  had  no  hand  in  it„ 

"I  have  always  considered  the  press  as  the  protector  of  our 
freedom,  as  a  watchful  guardian,  capable  of  uniting  the  weak 
against  the  encroachments  of  power.  What  concerns  the  pub- 
he  most  properly  admits  of  a  public  discussion.  But,  of  late, 
the  press  has  turned  from  defending  public  interest  to  making 
inroads  upon  private  life;  from  combating  the  strong  to  over- 
v>  helming  the  feeble.  No  condition  is  now  too  obscure  for  its 
abuse,  and  the  protector  has  become  the  tyrant  of  the  people. 
In  this  manner  the  freedom  of  the  press  is  beginning  to  sow 
the  seeds  of  its  own  dissolution;  the  great  must  oppose  it  from 
principle,  and  the  weak  from  fear;  till  at  last  every  rank  of 
mankind  shall  be  found  to  give  up  its  benefits,  content  with 
security  from  insults. 

' '  How  to  put  a  stop  to  this  licentiousness,  by  which  all  are 
indiscriminately  abused,  and  by  which  vice  consequently  es- 
capes in  the  general  censure,  I  am  unable  to  tell ;  all  I  could 
wish  is  that,  as  the  law  gives  us  no  protection  against  the 
injury,  so  it  should  give  calumniators  no  shelter  after  having 
provoked  correction.  The  insults  which  we  receive  before  the 
public,  by  being  more  open,  are  the  more  distressing;  by 
treating  them  with  silent  contempt  we  do  not  pay  a  sufficient 
deference  to  the  opinion  of  the  world.  By  recurring  to  legal 
redress  we  too  often  expose  the  weakness  of  the  law,  which 
only  serves  to  increase  our  mortification  by  failing  to  relieve 
us.  In  short,  every  man  should  singly  consider  himself  as  the 
guardian  of  the  liberty  of  the  press,  and,  as  far  as  his  influence 
can  extend,  shoidd  endeavor  to  prevent  its  licentiousness  be- 
coming at  last  the  grave  of  its  freedom. 

"Oliver  Goldsmith." 

Boswell,  who  had  just  arrived  in  town,  met  with  this  article 
in  a  newspaper  which  he  found  at  Dr.  Johnson's.  The  doctor 
was  from  home  at  the  time,  and  JSozzy  and  Mrs.  Williams,  in 
a  critical  conference  over  the  letter,  determined  from  the  style 
that  it  must  have  been  written  by  the  lexicographer  himself. 
The  latter  on  his  return  soon  undeceived  them.  ''Sir," laid  he 
to  Boswell,  ' '  Goldsmith  would  no  more  have  asked  me  to  have 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  221 

wrote  such  a  thing  as  that  for  him,  than  he  would  have  asked 
me  to  feed  him  with  a  spoon,  or  do  anything  else  that  denoted 
his  imbecility.  Sir,  had  he  shown  it  to  any  one  friend,  he 
would  not  have  been  allowed  to  publish  it.  He  has,  indeed, 
done  it  very  well;  but  it  is  a  foolish  thing  well  done.  I  sup- 
pose he  has  been  so  much  elated  with  the  success  of  his  new 
comedy,  that  he  has  thought  everything  that  concerned  him 
must  be  of  importance  to  the  public." 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

BOSWELL  IN  HOLY  WEEK— DINNER  AT  OGLETHORPE'S— DINNER 
AT  PAOLl'S— THE  POLICY  OF  TRUTH— GOLDSMITH  AFFECTS  IN- 
DEPENDENCE OF  ROYALTY— PAOLl'S  COMPLIMENT — JOHNSON'S 
EULOGIUM  ON  THE  FIDDLE—  QUESTION  ABOUT  SUICIDE — BOS- 
WELL'S  SUBSERVIENCY. 

The  return  of  Boswell  to  town  to  his  task  of  noting  down 
the  conversations  of  Johnson  enables  us  to  glean  from  his 
journal  some  scanty  notices  of  Goldsmith.  It  was  now  Holy 
Week,  a  time  during  which  Johnson  was  particularly  solemn 
in  his  manner  and  strict  in  his  devotions.  Boswell,  who  was 
the  imitator  of  the  great  moralist  in  everything,  assumed,  of 
course,  an  extra  devoutness  on  the  present  occasion.  "He  had 
an  odd  mock  solemnity  of  tone  and  manner,"  said  Miss  Burney 
(afterward  Madame  D'Arblay),  "  which  he  had  acquired  from 
constantly  thinking  and  imitating  Dr.  Johnson. ' '  It  would  seem 
that  he  undertook  to  deal  out  some  second-hand  homilies,  a  la 
Johnson,  for  the  edification  of  Goldsmith  during  Holy  Week. 
The  poet,  whatever  might  be  his  religious  feeling,  had  no  dis- 
position to  be  schooled  by  so  shallow  an  apostle.  "Sir,"  said 
he  in  reply,  "  as  I  take  my  shoes  from  the  shoemaker,  and  my 
coat  from  the  tailor,  so  I  take  my  religion  from  the  priest." 

Boswell  treasured  up  the  reply  in  his  memory  or  his  memo- 
randum book.  A  few  days  afterward,  the  9th  of  April,  he 
kept  Good  Friday  with  Dr.  Johnson,  in  orthodox  style;  break- 
fasted with  him  on  tea  and  crossbuns ;  went  to  church  with 
him  morning  and  evening;  fasted  in  the  interval,  and  read 
with  him  in  the  Greek  Testament :  then,  in  the  piety  of  his 
heart,  complained  of  the  sore  rebuff  he  had  met  with  ui  the 


222  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

course  of  his  religious  exhortations  to  the  poet,  and  lamented 
that  the  latter  should  indulge  in  "this  loose  way  of  talking." 
" Sir, "  replied  Johnson,  "Goldsmith  knows  nothing— he  has 
made  up  his  mind  about  nothing." 

This  reply  seems  to  have  gratified  the  lurking  jealousy  of 
Boswell,  and  he  has  recorded  it  in  his  journal.  Johnson,  how- 
ever, with  respect  to  Goldsmith,  and  indeed  with  respect  to 
everybody  else,  blew  hot  as  well  as  cold,  according  to  the  hu- 
mor  he  was  in.  Boswell,  who  was  astonished  and  piqued  at 
the  continually  increasing  celebrity  of  the  poet,  observed  some 
time  after  to  Johnson,  in  a  tone  of  surprise,  that  Goldsmith  had 
acquired  more  fame  than  all  the  officers  of  the  last  war  who 
were  not  generals.  "Why,  sir,"  answered  Johnson,  his  old 
feeling  of  good- will  working  uppermost,  "you  will  find  ten 
thousand  fit  to  do  what  they  did,  before  you  find  one  to  do 
what  Goldsmith  has  done.  You  must  consider  that  a  thing  is 
valued  according  to  its  rarity.  A  pebble  that  paves  the  street 
is  in  itself  more  useful  than  the  diamond  upon  a  lady's  finger." 

On  the  13th  of  April  we  find  Goldsmith  and  Johnson  at  the 
table  of  old  General  Oglethorpe,  discussing  the  question  of  the 
degeneracy  of  the  human  race.  Goldsmith  asserts  the  fact, 
and  attributes  it  to  the  influence  of  luxury.  Johnson  denies 
the  fact;  and  observes  that,  even  admitting  it,  luxury  could 
not  be  the  cause.  It  reached  but  a  small  proportion  of 
the  human  race.  Soldiers,  on  sixpence  a  day,  could  not  in- 
dulge in  luxuries ;  the  poor  and  laboring  classes,  forming  the 
great  mass  of  mankind,  were  out  of  its  sphere.  Wherever  it 
could  reach  them,  it  strengthened  them  and  rendered  them 
prolific.  The  conversation  was  not  of  particular  force  or  point 
as  reported  by  Boswell;  the  dinner  party  was  a  very  small 
one,  in  which  there  was  no  provocation  to  intellectual  display. 

After  dinner  they  took  tea  with  the  ladies,  where  we  find 
poor  Goldsmith  happy  and  at  home,  singing  Tony  Lumpkin's 
song  of  the  "Three  Jolly  Pigeons,"  and  another,  called  the 
"  Humors  of  Ballamaguery,"  to  a  very  pretty  Irish  tune.  It 
was  to  have  been  introduced  in  She  Stoops  to  Conquer,  but  was 
left  out,  as  the  actress  who  played  the  heroine  could  not  sing. 

It  was  in  these  genial  moments  that  the  sunshine  of  Gold- 
smith's nature  would  break  out^and  he  would  say  and  do  a 
thousand  whimsical  and  agreeable  things  that  made  him  the 
life  of  the  strictly  social  circle.  Johnson,  with  whom  conver- 
sation was  everything,  used  to  judge  Goldsmith  too  much  by 
his  own  colloquial  standard,  and  undervalue  him  for  being  less 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  223 

provided  than  himself  with  acquired  facts,  the  ammunition  of 
the  tongue  and  often  the  mere  lumber  of  the  memory ;  others, 
however,  valued  him  for  the  native  felicity  of  his  thoughts, 
however  carelessly  expressed,  and  for  certain  good-fellow 
qualities,  less  calculated  to  dazzle  than  to  endear.  "  It  is  amaz- 
ing," said  Johnson  one  day,  after  he  himself  had  been  talking 
like  an  oracle;  "  it  is  amazing  how  little  Goldsmith  knows;  he 
seldom  comes  where  he  is  not  more  ignorant  than  anyone 
else."  "Yet,"  replied  Sir  Joshua  Eeynolds,  with  affectionate 
promptness,  ' '  there  is  no  man  whose  company  is  more  liked. " 
Two  or  three  days  after  the  dinner  at  General  Oglethorpe's, 
Goldsmith  met  Johnson  again  at  the  table  of  General  Paoli, 
the  hero  of  Corsica.  Martmelli,  of  Florence,  author  of  an 
Italian  History  of  England,  was  among  the  guests;  as  was 
Boswell,  to  whom  we  are  indebted  for  minutes  of  the  conversa- 
tion which  took  place.  The  question  was  debated  whether 
Martinelli  should  continue  his  history  down  to  that  day.  "To 
be  sure  he  should, "  said  Goldsmith.  ' '  No,  sir ;"  cried  Johnson, 
"it  would  give  great  offence.  He  would  have  to  tell  of  almost 
all  the  living  great  what  they  did  not  wish  told."  Goldsmith. 
— "It  may,  perhaps,  be  necessary  for  a  native  to  be  more  cau- 
tious-; but  a  foreigner,  who  comes  among  us  without  prejudice, 
may  be  considered  as  holding  the  place  of  a  judge,  and  may 
speak  his  mind  freely."  Johnson.—"  Sir,  a  foreigner,  when  he 
sends  a  work  from  the  press,  ought  to  be  on  his  guard  against 
catching  the  error  and  mistaken  enthusiasm  of  the  people 
among  whom  he  happens  to  be."  Goldsmith. — "  Sir,  he  wants 
only  to  sell  his  history,  and  to  tell  truth ;  one  an  honest,  the 
other  a  laudable  motive."  Johnson.— "  Sir,  they  are  both 
laudable  motives.  It  is  laudable  in  a  man  to  wish  to  live  by 
his  labors;  but  he  should  write  so  as  he  may  live  by  them,  not 
so  as  he  may  be  knocked  on  the  head.  I  would  advise  him  to 
■be  at  Calais  before  he  publishes  his  history  of  the  present  age. 
lA.  foreigner  who  attaches  himself  to  a  political  party  in  this 
country  is  in  the  worst  state  that  can  be  imagined;  he  is  looked 
upon  as  a  mere  intermeddler.  A  native  may  do  it  from  inter- 
est." Boswell.— "Or  principle."  Goldsmith.— "There  are 
people  who  tell  a  hundred  political  lies  every  day,  and  are  not 
hurt  by  it.  Surely,  then,  one  may  tell  truth  with  perfect 
safety."  Johnson.— "Why,  sir,  in  the  first  place,  he  who  tells 
a  hundred  lies  has  disarmed  the  force  of  his  lies.  But,  besides, 
a  man  had  rather  hove  a  hundred  lies  told  of  him  than  one 
truth  which  he  does  not  wish  to  be  told."    Goldsmith.—"  For 


224  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

my  part,  I'd  tell  the  truth,  and  shame  the  devil."  Johnson. — 
"Yes,  sir,  hut  the  devil  will  be  angry.  I  wish  to  shame  the 
devil  as  much  as  you  do,  but  I  should  choose  to  be  out  of  the 
reach  of  his  claws."  Goldsmith. — "  His  claws  can  do  you  no 
hurt  where  you  have  the  shield  of  truth." 

This  last  reply  was  one  of  Goldsmith's  lucky  hits,  and  closed 
the  argument  in  his  favor. 

I  "We  talked,"  writes  Boswell,  "  of  the  king's  coming  to  see 
Goldsmith's  new  play."  "I  wish  he  would, "  said  Goldsmith, 
adding,  however,  with  an  affected  indifference,  ' '  Not  that  it 
would  do  me  the  least  good."  "Well,  then,"  cried  Johnson, 
laughing,  "  let  us  say  it  would  do  him  good.  No,  sir,  this  affec- 
tation will  not  pass ;  it  is  mighty  idle.  In  such  a  state  as  ours, 
who  would  not  wish  to  please  the  chief  magistrate?" 

"  I  do  wish  to  please  him,"  rejoined  Goldsmith.     "  I  remem- 
ber a  line  in  Dry  den : 

'  And  every  poet  is  the  monarch's  friend,' 

it  ought  to  be  reversed."  "Nay,"  said  Johnson,  "there  are 
finer  lines  in  Dryden  on  this  subject : 

'For  colleges  on  bounteous  kings  depend, 
And  never  rebel  was  to  arts  a  friend.'  " 

General  Paoli  observed  that  "successful  rebels  might  be." 
"Happy  rebellions,"  interjected  Martinelli.  "We  have  no 
such  phrase,"  cried  Goldsmith.  "  But  have  you  not  the  thing?" 
asked  Paoli.  "Yes,"  replied  Goldsmith,  "all  our  happy  revo- 
lutions. They  have  hurt  our  constitution,  and  mill  hurt  it,  till 
we  mend  it  by  another  happy  revolution.  "  This  was  a  sturdy 
Bally  of  Jacobitism  that  quite  surprised  Boswell,  but  must  have 
.been  relished  by  Johnson. 

General  Paoli  mentioned  a  passage  in  the  play,  which  had 
been  construed  into  a  compliment  to  a  lady  of  distinction, 
whose  marriage  with  the  Duke  of  Cumberland  bad  excited  the 
strong  disapprobation  of  the  king  as  a  mesalliance.  Boswell, 
to  draw  Goldsmith  out,  pretended  to  think  the  compliment 
unintentional.  The  poet  smiled  and  hesitated.  The  general 
came  to  his  relief.  "Monsieur  Goldsmith,"  said  he,  "est 
comme  la  mer,  qui  jette  des  perles  et  beaucoup  d'autres  belles 
choses,  sans  s'en  appercevoir"  (Mr.  Goldsmith  is  like  the  sea, 
which  casts  forth  pearls  and  many  other  beautiful  things  with- 
out perceiving  it). 

"Tres-bien  dit,  et  tres-elegamment"  (very  well  said,  and 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  225 

very  elegantly),  exclaimed  Goldsmith;  delighted  with  so  beau- 
tiful a  compliment  from  such  a  quarter. 

Johnson  spoke  disparagingly  of  the  learning  of  a  Mr.  Harris, 
of  Salisbury,  and  doubted  his  being  a  good  Grecian.  "He 
is  what  is  much  better,"  cried  Goldsmith,  with  prompt  good- 
nature, "he  is  a  worthy,  humane  man."  "Nay,  sir,"  rejoined 
the  logical  Johnson,  "  that  is  not  to  the  purpose  of  our  argu- 
ment ;  that  will  prove  that  he  can  play  upon  the  fiddle  as  well 
as  Giardini,  as  that  ho  is  an  eminent  Grecian."  Goldsmith 
found  he  had  got  into  a  scrape,  and  seized  upon  Giardini  to 
help  him  out  of  it.  "The  greatest  musical  performers,"  said 
he,  dexterously  turning  the  conversation,  "have  but  small 
emoluments;  Giardini,  I  am  told,  does  not  get  above  seven 
hundred  a  year."  "  That  is  indeed  but  little  for  a  man  to  get," 
observed  Johnson,  ' '  who  does  best  that  which  so  many  endea- 
vor to  do.  There  is  nothing,  I  think,  in  which  the  power  of 
art  is  shown  so  much  as  in  playing  on  the  fiddle.  In  all  other 
things  we  can  do  something  at  first.  Any  man  will  forge  a 
.  bar  of  iron,  if  you  give  bun  a  hammer ;  not  so  well  as  a  smith, 
but  tolerably.  A  man  will  saw  a  piece  of  wood,  and  make  a 
box,  though  a  clumsy  one ;  but  give  him  a  fiddle  and  fiddlestick, 
and  he  can  do  nothing." 

This,  upon  the  whole,  though  reported  by  the  one-sided  Bos- 
well,  is  a  tolerable  specimen  of  the  conversations  of  Goldsmith 
and  Johnson;  the  former  heedless,  often  illogical,  always  on 
the  kind-hearted  side  of  the  question,  and  prone  to  redeem  him- 
self by  lucky  hits ;  the  latter  closely  argumentative,  studiously 
sententious,  often  profound,  and  sometimes  laboriously  pro- 
saic. 

They  had  an  argument  a  few  days  later  at  Mr.  Thrale's  table, 
on  the  subject  of  suicide.  "Do  you  think,  sir,"  said  Boswell, 
"that  all  who  commit  suicide  are  mad?"  "  Sir,"  replied  John- 
son, ' '  they  are  not  often  universally  disordered  in  their  intel- 
lects, but  one  passion  presses  so  upon  them  that  they  yield  to 
it,  and  commit  suicide,  as  a  passionate  man  will  stab  another. 
I  have  often  thought,"  added  he,  "that  after  a  man  has  taken 
the  resolution  to  kill  himself,  it  is  not  courage  in  him  to  do 
anything,  however  desperate,  because  he  has  nothing  to  fear." 
"  I  don't  see  that,"  observed  Goldsmith.  "Nay,  but,  my  dear 
sir,"  rejoined  Johnson,  "why  should  you  not  see  what  every 
one  else  does?"  " It  is,"  replied  Goldsmith,  "for  fear  of  some- 
thing that  he  has  resolved  to  kill  himself;  and  will  not  that 
timid  disposition  restrain  him?"     "It  does  not  signify,"  pur- 


226  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

sued  Johnson,  "that  the  fear  of  something  made  him  resolve; 
it  is  upon  the  state  of  his  mind,  after  the  resolution  is  taken, 
that  I  argue.  Suppose  a  man  either  from  fear,  or  pride,  or 
conscience,  or  whatever  motive,  has  resolved  to  kill  himself; 
when  once  the  resolution  is  taken  he  has  nothing  to  fear.  He 
may  then  go  and  take  the  King  of  Prussia  by  the  nose  at  the 
head  of  his  army.  He  cannot  fear  the  rack  who  is  determined 
to  kill  himself."  Boswell  reports  no  more  of  the  discussion, 
though  Goldsmith  might  have  continued  it  with  advantage: 
for  the  very  timid  disposition,  which  through  fear  of  some- 
thing, was  impelling  the  man  to  commit  suicide,  might  restrain 
him  from  an  act,  involving  the  punishment  of  the  rack,  more 
terrible  to  him  than  death  itself. 

It  is  to  be  regretted  in  all  these  reports  by  Boswell,  we  have 
scarcely  anything  but  the  remarks  of  Johnson ;  it  is  only  by 
accident  that  he  now  and  then  gives  us  the  observations  of 
others,  when  they  are  necessary  to  explain  or  set  off  those  of 
his  hero.  "When  in  that  presence"  says  Miss  Burney,  "he 
was  unobservant,  if  not  contemptuous  of  every  one  else.  In 
truth,  when  he  met  with  Dr.  Johnson,  he  commonly  forbore 
even  answering  anything  that  was  said,  or  attending  to  any- 
thing that  went  forward,  lest  he  should  miss  the  smallest  sound 
from  that  voice,  to  which  he  paid  such  exclusive,  though  mer- 
ited homage.  But  the  moment  that  voice  burst  forth,  the  atten- 
tion which  it  excited  on  Mr.  Boswell  amounted  almost  to  pain. 
His  eyes  goggled  with  eagerness ;  he  leaned  his  ear  almost  on 
the  shoulder  of  the  doctor;  and  his  mouth  dropped  open  to 
catch  every  syllable  that  might  be  uttered;  nay,  he  seemed 
not  only  to  dread  losing  a  word,  but  to  be  anxious  not  to  miss 
a  breathing ;  as  if  hoping  from  it  latently,  or  mystically,  some 
information." 

On  one  occasion  the  Doctor  detected  Boswell,  or  Bozzy,  as 
he  called  him,  eavesdropping  behind  his  chair,  as  he  was  con- 
versing with  Miss  Burney  at  Mr.  Thrale's  table.  ' '  What  are 
you  doing  there,  sir?"  cried  he,  turning  round  angrily,  and 
clapping  his  hand  upon  his  knee.     "Go  to  the  table,  sir." 

Boswell  obeyed  with  an  ah'  of  affright  and  submission,  which 
raised  a  smile  on  every  face.  Scarce  had  he  taken  his  seat, 
however,  at  a  distance,  than  impatient  to  get  again  at  the  side 
of  Johnson,  he  rose  and  was  running  off  in  quest  of  something 
to  show  him,  when  the  doctor  roared  after  him  authoritatively, 
'  What  are  you  thinking  of,  sir?  Why  do  you  get  up  before 
the  cloth  is  removed?    Come  back  to  your  place,  sir;" — and 


OLIVER  OOLDSMITH.  227 

the  obsequious  spaniel  did  as  he  was  commanded.  "  Running 
about  in  the  middle  of  meals !"  muttered  the  doctor,  pursing 
his  mouth  at  the  same  time  to  restrain  his  rising  risibility. 

Boswell  got  another  rebuff  from  Johnson,  which  would  have 
demolished  any  other  man.  He  had  been  teasing  him  with 
many  direct  questions,  such  as  What  did  you  do,  sir?  What 
did  you  say,  sir?  until  the  great  philologist  became  perfectly 
enraged.  "I  will  not  be  put  to  the  question!"  roared  he. 
"Don't  you  consider,  sir,  that  these  are  not  the  manners  of  a 
gentleman?  I  will  not  be  baited  with  ichat  and  why;  What  is 
this?  What  is  that?  Why  is  a  cow's  tail  long?  Why  is  a  fox's 
tail  bushy?"  "Why,  sir,"  replied  pil-garlick,  "you  are  so 
good  that  I  venture  to  trouble  you."  "  Sir,"  replied  Johnson, 
"my  being  so  good  is  no  reason  why  you  should  be  so  ill." 
"  You  have  but  two  topics,  sir;"  exclaimed  he  on  another  oc- 
casion, "yourself  and  me,  and  T  am  sick  of  both." 

Boswell's  inveterate  disposition  to  toad  was  a  sore  cause  of 
mortification  to  his  father,  the  old  laird  of  Auchinleck  (or  Af- 
fleck). He  had  been  annoyed  by  his  extravagant  devotion  to 
Paoli,  but  then  he  was  something  "of  a  military  hero ;  but  this 
tagging  at  the  heels  of  Dr.  Johnson,  whom  he  considered  a 
kind  of  pedagogue,  set  his  Scotch  blood  in  a  ferment.  ' '  There's 
nae  hope  for  Jamie,  mon,"  said  he  to  a  friend ;  "Jamie  is  gaen 
clean  gyte.  What  do  you  think,  mon?  He's  done  wi'  Paoli; 
he's  off  wi'  the  land-louping  scoundrel  of  a  Corsican ;  and  whose 
tail  do  you  think  he  has  pinn'd  himself  to  now,  mon?  A  do- 
minie,  mon;  an  auld  dominie:  he  keeped  a  schule,  and  cau'd 
it  an  acaadamy." 

We  shall  show  in  the  next  chapter  that  Jamie's  devotion  to 
the  dominie  did  not  go  unrewarded. 


CHAPTER  XL. 


CHANGES  IN  THE  LITERAKY  CLUB— JOHNSON'S  OBJECTION  TO  GAR- 
RICK — ELECTION  OF  BOSWELL. 

The  Literary  Club  (as  we  have  termed  the  club  in  Gerard 
Street,  though  ft  took  that  name  some  time  later)  had  now 
being  in  existence  several  years.  Johnson  was  exceedingly 
chary  at  first  of  its  exclusiveness,  and  opposed  to  its  being 
augmented  in  number.      Not  long  after  its  institution,   Sir 


228  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

Joshua  Reynolds  was  speaking  of  it  to  Garrick.  "I  like  it 
much,''  said  little  David,  briskly;  "  I  think  I  shall  be  of  you." 
•  •  When  Sir  Joshua  mentioned  this  to  Dr.  Johnson, "  says  Bos- 
well,  ''he  was  much  displeased  with  the  actor's  conceit. 
'  He'll  be  of  us  f  '  growled  he.  '  How  does  he  know  we  will 
permit  him?  The  first  duke  in  England  has  no  right  to  hold 
such  language.' " 

When  Sir  John  Hawkins  spoke  favorably  of  Garrick's  pre- 
tensions, "Sir,"  replied  Johnson,  "he  wdl  disturb  us  by  his 
buffoonery."  In  the  same  spirit  he  declared  to  Mr.  Thrale, 
that  if  Garrick  should  apply  for  admission,  he  would  black-ball 
him.  "Who,  sir?''  exclaimed  Thrale,  with  surprise;  "  Mr.  Gar- 
rick— your  friend,  your  companion— black-ball  him !"  "Why, 
sir,"  replied  Johnson,  "I  love  my  little  David  dearly— better 
than  all  or  any  of  his  flatterers  do ;  but  surely  one  ought  to  sit 
in  a  society  like  ours, 

'•  •  Unelbowed  by  a  gamester,  pimp,  or  player.'  " 

The  exclusion  from  the  club  was  a  sore  mortification  to  Gar- 
rick, though  he  bore  it  without  complaining.  He  could  not 
help  continually  to  ask  questions  about  it — what  was  going  on 
there — whether  he  was  ever  the  subject  of  conversation.  By 
degrees  the  rigor  of  the  club  relaxed:  some  of  the  members 
grew  negligent.  Beauclerc  lost  his  right  of  membership  by 
neglecting  to  attend.  On  his  marriage,  however,  with  Lady 
Diana  Spencer,  daughter  of  the  Duke  of  Marlborough,  and 
recently  divorced  from  Viscount  Bohngbroke,  he  had  claimed 
and  regained  his  seat  in  the  club.  The  number  of  members 
had  likewise  been  augmented.  The  proposition  to  increase  it 
originated  with  Goldsmith.  ' '  It  would  give, "  he  thought,  ' '  an 
agreeable  variety  to  their  meetings ;  for  there  can  be  nothing 
new  among  us,"  said  he;  "  we  have  travelled  over  each  other's 
minds."  Johnson  was  piqued  at  the  suggestion.  "Sir,"  said 
he,  "you  have  not  travelled  over  my  mind,  I  promise  you." 
Sir  Joshua,  less  confident  in  the  exhaustless  fecundity  of  his 
mind,  felt  and  acknowledged  the  force  of  Goldsmith's  suggest- 
ion. Several  new  members,  therefore,  had  been  added;  the 
first,  to  his  great  joy,  was  David  Garrick.  Goldsmith,  who 
was  now  on  cordial  terms  with  Jiim,  had  zealously  promoted 
his  election,  and  Johnson  had  given  it  his  warm  approbation. 
Another  new  member  was  Beauclerc's  friend,  Lord  Charle- 
mont;  and  a  still  more  important  one  was  Mr.,  afterward  Sir 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  229 

William  Jones,  the  famous  Orientalist,  at  that  time  a  young 
lawyer  of  the  Temple  and  a  distinguished  scholar. 

To  the  great  astonishment  of  the  club,  Johnson  now  proposed 
his  devoted  follower,  Boswell,  as  a  member.  He  did  it  in  a 
note  addressed  to  Goldsmith,  who  presided  on  the  evening  of 
the  23d  of  April.  The  nomination  was  seconded  by  Beauclerc. 
According  to  the  rules  of  the  club,  the  ballot  would  take  place 
at  the  next  meeting  (on  the  30th) ;  there  was  an  intervening 
week,  therefore,  in  which  to  discuss  the  pretensions  of  the  can- 
didate. We  may  easily  imagine  the  discussions  that  took 
place.  Boswell  had  made  himself  absurd  in  such  a  variety  of 
ways,  that  the  very  idea  of  his  admission  was  exceedingly  irk- 
some to  some  of  the  members.  ' '  The  honor  of  being  elected 
into  the  Turk's  Head  Club,"  said  the  Bishop  of  St.  Asaph,  "is 
not  inferior  to  that  of  being  repi*esentative  of  Westminster  and 
Surrey ;"  what  had  Boswell  done  to  merit  such  an  honor?  what 
chance  had  he  of  gaining  it?  The  answer  was  simple:  he  had 
been  the  persevering  worshipper,  if  not  sycophant  of  Johnson. 
The  great  lexicographer  had  a  heart  to  be  won  by  apparent  af- 
fection ;  he  stood  forth  authoritatively  in  support  of  his  vassal. 
If  asked  to  state  the  merits  of  the  candidate,  he  summed  them 
up  in  an  indefinite  but  comprehensive  word  of  his  own  coining ; 
he  was  clubable.  He  moreover  gave  significant  hints  that  if 
Boswell  were  kept  out  he  should  oppose  the  admission  of  any 
other  candidate.  No  further  opposition  was  made;  in  fact 
none  of  the  members  had  been  so  fastidious  and  exclusive  in 
regard  to  the  club  as  Johnson  himself ;  and  if  he  were  pleased, 
they  were  easily  satisfied ;  besides,  they  knew  that  with  all  his 
faults,  Boswell  was  a  cheerful  companion,  and  possessed  lively 
social  qualities. 

On  Friday,  when  the  ballot  was  to  take  place,  Beauclerc 
gave  a  dinner,  at  his  house  in  the  Adelphi,  where  Boswell  met 
several  of  the  members  who  were  favorable  to  his  election. 
After  dinner  the  latter  adjourned  to  the  club,  leaving  Boswell 
in  company  with  Lady  Di  Beauclerc  until  the  fate  of  his  elect- 
ion should  be  known.  He  sat,  he  says,  in  a  state  of  anxiety 
which  even  the  charming  conversation  of  Lady  Di  could  not 
entirely  dissipate.  It  was  not  long  before  tidings  were  brought 
of  his  election,  and  he  was  conducted  to  the  place  of  meeting, 
where,  beside  the  company  he  had  met  at  dinner,  Burke,  Dr. 
Nugent,  Garrick,  Goldsmith,  and  Mr.  William  Jones  were 
waiting  to  receive  him.  The  club,  notwithstanding  all  its 
learned  dignity  in  the  eyes  of  the  world,  could  at  times  ' '  un- 


230  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

bend  and  play  the  fool"  as  well  as  less  important  bodies. 
Some  of  its  jocose  conversations  have  at  times  leaked  out,  and 
a  society  in  which  Goldsmith  could  venture  to  sing  his  song  of 
' '  an  old  woman  tossed  in  a  blanket, "  could  not  be  so  very  staid 
in  its  gravity.  We  may  suppose,  therefore,  the  jokes  that  had 
been  passing  among  the  members  while  awaiting  the  arrival  of 
Boswell.  Beauclerc  himself  could  not  have  repressed  his  dis- 
position for  a  sarcastic  pleasantry.  At  least  we  have  a  right  to 
presume  all  this  from  the  conduct  of  Dr.  Johnson  himself. 

With  all  his  gravity  he  possessed  a  deep  fund  of  quiet  hu- 
mor, and  felt  a  kind  of  whimsical  responsibility  to  protect  the 
club  from  the  absurd  propensities  of  the  very  questionable 
associate  he  had  thus  inflicted  on  them.  Eising,  therefore,  as 
Boswell  entered,  he  advanced  with  a  very  doctorial  air,  placed 
himself  behind  a  chair,  on  which  he  leaned  as  on  a  desk  or  pul- 
pit, and  then  delivered,  ex  cathedra,  a  mock  solemn  charge, 
pointing  out  the  conduct  expected  from  him  as  a  good  member 
of  the  club;  what  he  was  to  do,  and  especially  what  he  was  to 
avoid;  including  in  the  latter,  no  doubt,  all  those  petty,  pry- 
ing, questioning,  gossiping,  babbling  habits  which  had  so  often 
grieved  the  spirit  of  the  lexicographer.  It  is  to  be  regretted 
that  Boswell  has  never  thought  proper  to  note  down  the  par- 
ticulars of  this  charge,  which,  from  the  well  known  characters 
and  positions  of  the  parties,  might  have  furnished  a  parallel  to 
the  noted  charge  of  Launcelot  Gobbo  to  his  dog. 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

DINNER  AT  DILLY'S— CONVERSATIONS  ON  NATURAL  HISTORY— IN- 
TERMEDDLING OF  BOSWELL  —  DISPUTE  ABOUT  TOLERATION  — 
JOHNSON'S  REBUFF  TO  GOLDSMITH— HIS  APOLOGY — MAN-WOR- 
SHIP— DOCTORS  MAJOR  AND  MINOR — A  FAREWELL  VISIT. 

A  few  days  after  the  serio-comic  scene  of  the  elevation  of 
Boswell  into  the  Literary  Club,  we  find  that  indefatigable 
biographer  giving  particulars  of  a  dinner  at  the'Dillys,  book- 
sellers, in  the  Poultry,  at  which  he  met  Goldsmith  and  John- 
son, with  several  other  literary  characters.  His  anecdotes  of 
the  conversation,  of  course,  go  to  glorify  Dr.  Johnson;  for,  as 
he  observes  in  his  biography,  "  his  conversation  alone,  or  what 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  23] 

led  to  it,  or  was  interwoven  with  it,  is  the  business  of  this 
work."  Still  on  the  present,  as  on  other  occasions,  he  gives 
unintentional  and  perhaps  unavoidable  gleams  of  Goldsmith's 
good  sense,  which  show  that  the  latter  only  wanted  a  less  pre- 
judiced and  more  impartial  reporter,  to  put  down  the  charge  of 
colloquial  incapacity  so  unjustly  fixed  upon  him.  The  conver- 
sation turned  upon  the  natural  history  of  birds,  a  beautiful 
subject,  on  which  the  poet,  from  Ms  recent  studies,  his  habits 
of  observation,  and  his  natural  tastes,  must  have  talked  with 
instruction  and  feeling;  yet,  though  we  have  much  of  what 
Johnson  said,  we  have  only  a  casual  remark  or  two  of  Gold- 
smith. One  was  on  the  migration  of  swallows,  which  he  pro- 
nounced partial;  "The  stronger  ones,"  said  he,  "migrate,  the 
others  do  not." 

Johnson  denied  to  the  brute  creation  the  faculty  of  reason. 
"Birds,"  said  he,  "build  by  instinct;  they  never  improve; 
they  build  their  first  nest  as  well  as  any  one  they  ever  build. " 
"Yet  we  see,"  observed  Goldsmith,  "if  you  take  away  a  bird's 
nest  with  the  eggs  in  it,  she  will  make  a  slighter  nest  and  lay 
again."  "  Sir'"  replied  Johnson,  "that  is  because  at  first  she 
has  full  time,  and  makes  her  nest  deliberately.  In  the  case 
you  mention,  she  is  pressed  to  lay,  and  must,  therefore,  make 
her  nest  quickly,  and  consequently  it  will  be  slight."  "The 
nidification  of  birds,"  rejoined  Goldsmith,  "is  what  is  least 
known  in  natural  history,  though  one  of  the  most  curious 
things  in  it."  While  conversation  was  going  on  in  this  placid, 
agreeable  and  instructive  manner,  the  eternal  meddler  and 
busy-body  Boswell,  must  intrude,  to  put  it  in  a  brawl.  The 
Diliys  were  dissenters ;  two  of  their  guests  were  dissenting 
clergymen;  another,  Mr.  Toplady,  was  a  clergyman  of  the 
established  church.  Johnson,  himself,  was  a  zealous,  uncom- 
promising churchman.  None  but  a  marplot  like  Boswell  would 
have  thought,  on  such  an  occasion,  and  in  such  company,  to 
broach  the  subject  of  religious  toleration;  but,  as  has  been 
well  observed,  "it  was  his  perverse  inclination  to  introduce 
subjects  that  he  hoped  would  produce  difference  and  debate." 
In  this  present  instance  he  gained  his  point.  An  animated 
dispute  immediately  arose,  in  which,  according  to  Boswell's 
report,  Johnson  monopolized  the  greater  part  of  the  conversa- 
tion ;  not  always  treating  the  dissenting  clergymen  with  the 
greatest  courtesy,  and  even  once  wounding  the  feelings  of  the 
mild  and  amiable  Bennet  Langton  by  his  harshness. 

Goldsmith  mingled  a  little  in  the  dispute  and  with  some  ad- 


232  OLIVER   00 LI) SMITH 

vantage,  but  was  cut  short  by  flat  contradictions  when  most 
in  the  right.  He  sat  for  a  time  silent  but  impatient  under 
such  overbearing  dogmatism,  though  Boswell,  with  his  usual 
misinterpretation,  attributes  his  "  restless  agitation"  to  a  wish 
to  get  in  and  shine.  "Finding  himself  excluded,"  continues 
Boswell,  ' '  he  had  taken  his  hat  to  go  away,  but  remained  for  a 
time  with  it  in  his  hand,  like  a  gamester,  who,  at  the  end  of  a 
long  night,  lingers  for  a  little  while  to  see  if  he  can  have  a 
favorable  opportunity  to  finish  with  success."  Once  he  was 
beginning  to  speak  when  he  was  overpowered  by  the  loud 
voice  of  Johnson,  who  was  at  the  opposite  end  of  the  table,  and 
did  not  perceive  his  attempt ;  whereupon  he  threw  down,  as  it 
were,  his  hat  and  his  argument,  and,  darting  an  angry  glance 
at  Johnson,  exclaimed  in  a  bitter  tone,  "  Take  it." 

Just  then  one  of  the  disputants  was  beginning  to  speak, 
when  Johnson  uttering  some  sound,  as  if  about  to  interrupt 
him,  Goldsmith,  according  to  Boswell,  seized  the  opportunity 
to  vent  his  own  envy  and  spleen  under  pretext  of  supporting 
another  person.  "Sir,"  said  he  to  Johnson,  "  the  gentleman 
has  heard  you  patiently  for  an  hour ;  pray  allow  us  now  to 
hear  him."  It  was  a  reproof  in  the  lexicographer's  own  style, 
and  he  may  have  felt  that  he  merited  it;  but  he  was  not 
accustomed  to  be  reproved.  "Sir,"  said  he,  sternly,  "I  was 
not  interrupting  the  gentleman;  I  was  only  giving  him  a 
signal  of  my  attention.  Sir,  you  are  impertinent. ^  Goldsmith 
made  no  reply,  but  after  some  time  went  away,  having  an- 
other engagement. 

That  evening,  as  Boswell  was  on  the  way  with  Johnson  and 
Langton  to  the  club,  he  seized  the  occasion  to  make  some  dis- 
paraging remarks  on  Goldsmith,  which  he  thought  would  just 
then  be  acceptable  to  the  great  lexicographer.  ' '  It  was  a 
pity,"  he  said,  "that  Goldsmith  would,  on  every  occasion, 
endeavor  to  shine,  by  which  he  so  often  exposed  himself." 
Langton  contrasted  him  with  Addison,  who,  content  with  the 
fame  of  his  writings,  acknowledged  himself  unfit  for  conversa- 
tion ;  and  on  being  taxed  by  a  lady  with  silence  in  company, 
replied,  "  Madam,  I  have  but  nine  pence  in  ready  money,  but 
I  can  draw  for  a  thousand  pounds. "  To  this  Boswell  rejoined 
that  Goldsmith  had  a  great  deal  of  gold  in  his  cabinet,  but  was 
always  taking  out  his  purse.  "~Yes,  sir,"  chuckled  Johnson, 
"  and  that  so  often  an  empty  purse." 

By  this  time  Johnson  arrived  at  the  club,  however,  his  angry 
feelings  had  subsided,  and  bis  native  generosity  and  sense  of 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  233 

justice  had  got  the  uppermost.  He  found  Goldsmith  in  com- 
pany with  Burke,  Garrick,  and  other  members,  but  sitting 
silent  and  apart,  "brooding,"  as  Boswell  says,  "over  the 
reprimand  he  had  received."  Johnson's  good  heart  yearned  to- 
ward him;  and  knowing  his  placable  nature,  "  I'll  make  Gold- 
smith forgive  me,"  whispered  he;  then,  with  a  loud  voice, 
"Dr.  Goldsmith,"  said  he,  "something  passed  to-day  where 
you  and  I  dined — I  ask  your  pardon."  The  ire  of  the  poet  was 
extinguished  in  an  instant,  and  his  grateful  affection  for  the 
magnanimous  though  sometimes  overbearing  moralist  rushed 
to  his  heart.  "It  must  be  much  from  you,  sir,"  said  he,  "  that 
I  take  ill!"  "And  so,"  adds  Boswell,  "the  difference  was 
over,  and  they  were  on  as  easy  terms  as  ever,  and  Goldsmith 
rattled  away  as  usual."  We  do  not  think  these  stories  tell  to 
the  poet's  disadvantage,  even  though  related  by  Boswell. 

Goldsmith,  with  all  his  modesty,  could  not  be  ignorant  of 
his  proper  merit;  and  must  have  felt  annoyed  at  times  at 
being  undervalued  and  elbowed  aside  by  light-minded  or  dull 
men,  in  their  blind  and  exclusive  homage  to  the  literary  auto- 
crat. It  was  a  fine  reproof  he  gave  to  Boswell  on  one  occasion, 
for  talking  of  Johnston  as  entitled  to  the  honor  of  exclusive 
superiority.  "Sir,  you  are  for  making  a  monarchy  what 
should  be  a  republic."  On  another  occasion,  when  he  was  con- 
versing in  company  with  great  vivacity,  and  apparently  to  the 
satisfaction  of  those  around  him,  an  honest  Swiss,  who  sat 
near,  one  George  Michael  Moser,  keeper  of  the  Royal  Acad- 
emy, perceiving  Dr.  Johnson  rolling  himself  as  if  about  to 
speak,  exclaimed,  "Stay,  stay!  Toctor  Shonson  is  going  to 
say  something."  "  And  are  you  sure,  sir,"  replied  Goldsmith, 
sharply,  "that  you  can  comprehend  what  he  says?" 

This  clever  rebuke,  which  gives  the  main  zest  to  the  anec- 
dote, is  omitted  by  Boswell,  who  probably  did  not  perceive  the 
point  of  it. 

He  relates  another  anecdote  of  the  kind,  on  the  authority  of 
Johnson  himself.  The  latter  and  Goldsmith  were  one  evening 
in  company  with  the  Rev.  George  Graham,  a  master  of  Eton, 
who,  notwithstanding  the  sobriety  of  his  cloth,  had  got  intoxi- 
cated ' '  to  about  the  pitch  of  looking  at  one  man  and  talking 
to  another."  "  Doctor,"  cried  he  in  an  ecstacy  of  devotion  and 
good-will,  but  goggling  by  mistake,  upon  Goldsmith,  ' ;  I  should 
be  glad  to  see  you  at  Eton."  "I  shall  be  glad  to  wait  upon 
you,"  replied  Goldsmith.  "No,  no!"  cried  the  other  eagerly, 
"  'tis  not  you  I  mean,  Doctor  Minor,  'tis  Doctor  Major  there." 


234  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

"  You  raay  easily  conceive,"  said  Johnson  in  relating  the  anec- 
dote, "  what  effect  this  had  upon  Goldsmith,  who  was  irascible 
as  a  hornet."  The  only  comment,  however,  which  he  is  said 
to  have  made,  partakes  more  of  quaint  and  dry  humor  than 
bitterness :  ' '  That  Graham, "  said  he,  ' '  is  enough  to  make  one 
commit  suicide."  What  more  could  be  said  to  express  the  in- 
tolerable nuisance  of  a  consummate  bore  t 

We  have  now  given  the  last  scenes  between  Goldsmith  and 
Johnson  which  stand  recorded  by  Boswell.  The  latter  called 
on  the  poet  a  few  days  after  the  dinner  at  Dilly's,  to  take 
leave  of  him  prior  to  departing  for  Scotland ;  yet,  even  in  this 
last  interview,  he  contrives  to  get  up  a  charge  of  ' '  jealousy 
and  envy."  Goldsmith,  he  woidd  fain  persuade  us,  is  very 
angry  that  Johnson  is  going  to  travel  with  him  in  Scotland ; 
and  endeavors  to  persuade  him  that  he  will  be  a  dead  weight 
"to  lug  along  through  the  Highlands  and  Hebrides."  Any  one 
else,  knowing  the  character  and  habits  of  Johnson,  would 
have  thought  the  same ;  and  no  one  but  Boswell  would  have 
supposed  his  office  of  bear-leader  to  the  ursa  major  a  thing  to 
be  envied.* 


*  One  of  Peter  Pindar's  (Dr.  Wolcot)  most  amusing  jeux  d'  esprit  is  his  congratu- 
latory epistle  to  Boswell  on  this  tour,  of  which  we  subjoin  a  few  lines. 

O  Boswell,  Bozzy,  Bruce,  whate'er  thy  name, 
Thou  mighty  shark  for  anecdote  and  fame; 
Thou  jackal,  leadiug  lion  Johnson  forth. 
To  eat  M'Pherson  'midst  his  native  north; 
To  frighten  grave  professors  with  his  roar, 
And  shake  the  Hebrides  from  shore  to  shore. 


Bless'd  be  thy  labors,  most  adventurous  Bozzy, 

Bold  rival  of  Sir  John  and  Dame  Piozzi; 

Heavens!  with  what  laurels  shall  thy  head  be  crown'dl 

A  grove,  a  forest,  shall  thy  ears  surround ! 

Yes!  whilst  the  Rambler  shall  a  comet  blaze, 

And  gild  a  world  of  darkness  with  his  rays, 

Thee,  too,  that  world  with  wonderment  shall  hail, 

A  lively,  bouncing  cracker  at  his  tail ! 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  235 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

PROJECT  OF  A  DICTIONARY  OF  ARTS  AND  SCIENCES— DISAPPOINT- 
MENT— NEGLIGENT  AUTHORSHIP — APPLICATION  FOR  A  PENSION 
— BEATTIE'S  ESSAY  ON  TRUTH— PUBLIC  ADULATION— A  HIGH- 
MINDED  REBUKE. 

The  work  which  Goldsmith  had  still  in  hand  being  already 
paid  for,  and  the  money  gone,  some  new  scheme  must  be  de- 
vised to  provide  for  the  past  and  the  future— for  impending 
debts  which  threatened  to  crush  him,  and  expenses  which 
were  continually  increasing.  He  now  projected  a  work  of 
greater  compass  than  any  he  had  yet  undertaken ;  a  Diction- 
ary of  Arts  and  Sciences  on  a  comprehensive  scale,  which  was 
to  occupy  a  number  of  volumes.  For  this  he  received  promises 
of  assistance  from  several  powerful  hands.  Johnson  was  to 
contribute  an  article  on  ethics;  Burke,  an  abstract  of  his 
"  Essay  on  the  Sublime  and  Beautiful,"  an  essay  on  the  Berk- 
leyan  system  of  philosophy,  and  others  on  political  science; 
Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  an  essay  on  painting ;  and  Garrick,  while 
he  undertook  on  Iris  own  part  to  furnish  an  essay  on  acting, 
engaged  Dr.  Burney  to  contribute  an  article  on  music.  Here 
was  a  great  array  of  talent  positively  engaged,  while  other 
writers  of  eminence  were  to  be  sought  for  the  various  depart- 
ments of  science.  Goldsmith  was  to  edit  the  whole.  An  un- 
dertaking of  this  kind,  while  it  did  not  incessantly  task  and 
exhaust  his  inventive  powers  by  original  composition,  would 
give  agreeable  and  profitable  exercise  to  his  taste  and  judg- 
ment in  selecting,  compiling,  and  arranging,  and  he  calculated 
to  diffuse  over  the  whole  the  acknowledged  graces  of  his  style. 

He  drew  up  a  prospectus  of  the  plan,  which  is  said  by  Bishop 
Percy,  who  saw  it,  to  have  been  written  with  uncommon 
ability,  and  to  have  had  that  perspicuity  and  elegance  for 
which  his  writings  are  remarkable.  This  paper,  unfortu- 
nately, is  no  longer  in  existence. 

Goldsmith's  expectations,  always  sanguine  respecting  any 
new  plan,  were  raised  to  an  extraordinary  height  by  the  pre- 
sent project;  and  well  they  might  be,  when  we  consider  the 
powerful  coadjutors  already  pledged.  They  were  doomed, 
however,  to  complete  disappointment.     Davies,  the  bibliopole 


236  OLIVER   a  OLD  SMITH. 

of  Eussell  Street,  lets  us  into  the  secret  of  this  failure.  ' '  The 
booksellers,"  said  he,  "notwithstanding  they  had  a  very  good 
opinion  of  his  abilities,  yet  were  startled  at  the  bulk,  import- 
ance, and  expense  of  so  great  an  undertaking,  the  fate  of 
which  was  to  depend  upon  the  industry  of  a  man  with  whose 
indolence  of  temper  and  method  of  procrastination  they  had 
long  been  acquainted." 

Goldsmith  certainly  gave  reason  for  some  such  distrust  by 
the  heedlessness  with  which  he  conducted  his  literary  under- 
takings. Those  unfinished,  but  paid  for,  would  be  suspended 
to  make  way  for  some  job  that  was  to  provide  for  present  ne- 
cessities. Those  thus  hastily  taken  up  would  be  as  hastily  exe- 
cuted, and  the  whole,  however  pressing,  would  be  shoved  aside 
and  left  "  at  loose  ends,"  on  some  sudden  call  to  social  enjoy- 
ment or  recreation. 

Cradock  tells  us  that  on  one  occasion,  when  Goldsmith  was 
hard  at  work  on  his  Natural  History,  he  sent  to  Dr.  Percy  and 
himself,  entreating  them  to  finish  some  pages  of  his  work 
which  lay  upon  his  table,  and  for  which  the  press  was  urgent, 
he  being  detained  "by  other  engagements  at  Windsor.  They 
met  by  appointment  at  his  chambers  in  the  Temple,  where  they 
found  everything  in  disorder,  and  costly  books  lying  scattered 
about  on  the  tables  and  on  the  floor ;  many  of  the  books  on 
natural  history  which  he  had  recently  consulted  lay  open 
among  uncorrected  proof-sheets.  The  subject  in  hand,  and 
from  which  he  had  suddenly  broken  off,  related  to  birds. 
"Do  you  know  anything  about  birds?"  asked  Dr.  Percy,  smil- 
ing. "  Not  an  atom,"  replied  Cradock;  "  do  you?"  "Not  I!  I 
scarcely  know  a  goose  from  a  swan :  however,  let  us  try  what 
we  can  do."  They  set  to  work  and  completed  their  friendly 
task.  Goldsmith,  however,  when  he  came  to  revise  it,  made 
such  alterations  that  they  could  neither  of  them  recognize  their 
own  share.  The  engagement  at  Windsor,  which  had  thus 
caused  Goldsmith  to  break  off  suddenly  from  his  multifarious 
engagements,  was  a  party  of  pleasure  with  some  literary  ladies. 
Another  anecdote  was  current,  illustrative  of  the  carelessness 
with  which  he  executed  works  requiring  accuracy  and  re- 
search. On  the  22d  of  June  he  had  received  payment  in  ad- 
vance for  a  Grecian  History  in  two  volumes,  though  only  one 
was  finished.  As  he  was  pushing- on  doggedly  at  the  second 
volume,  Gibbon,  the  historian,  called  in.  "You  are  the  man 
of  all  others  I  wish  to  see,"  cried  the  poet,  glad  to  be  saved  the 
trouble  of  reference  to  his  books.     "What  was  the  name  of 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  237 

that  Indian  king  who  gave  Alexander  the  Great  so  much 
trouble?"  "Montezuma,"  replied  Gibbon,  sportively.  The 
heedless  author  was  about  committing  the  name  to  paper  with- 
out reflection,  when  Gibbon  pretended  to  recollect  himself, 
and  gave  the  true  name,  Porus. 

This  story,  very  probably,  was  a  sportive  exaggeration ;  but 
it  was  a  multiplicity  of  anecdotes  like  this  and  the  preceding 
one,  some  true  and  some  false,  which  had  impaired  the  confi- 
dence of  booksellers  in  Goldsmith,  as  a  man  to  be  relied  on  for 
a  task  requiring  wide  and  accurate  research,  and  close  and 
long-continued  application.  The  project  of  the  Universal 
Dictionary,  therefore,  met  with  no  encouragement,  and  fell 
through. 

The  failure  of  this  scheme,  on  which  he  had  built  such  spa- 
cious hopes,  sank  deep  into  Goldsmith's  heart.  He  was  still 
further  grieved  and  mortified  by  the  failure  of  an  effort  made 
by  some  of  his  friends  to  obtain  for  him  a  pension  from  gov- 
ernment. There  had  been  a  talk  of  the  disposition  of  the  min- 
istry to  extend  the  bounty  of  the  crown  to  distinguished  liter- 
ary men  in  pecuniary  difficulty,  without  regard  to  their  politi- 
cal creed :  when  the  merits  and  claims  of  Goldsmith,  however, 
were  laid  before  them,  they  met  no  favor.  The  sin  of  sturdy 
independence  lay  at  his  door.  He  had  refused  to  become  a 
ministerial  hack  when  offered  a  carte  blanche  by  Parson  Scott, 
the  cabinet  emissary.  The  wondering  parson  had  left  him  in 
poverty  and  "his  garret,'''  and  there  the  ministry  were  dis- 
posed to  suffer  him  to  remain. 

In  the  meantime  Dr.  Beattie  comes  out  with  his  "Essay  on 
Truth,"  and  all  the  orthodox  world  are  thrown  into  a  paroxysm 
of  contagious  ecstasy.  He  is  cried  up  as  the  great  champion 
of  Christianity  against  the  attacks  of  modern  philosophers  and 
infidels ;  he  is  feted  and  flattered  in  every  way.  He  receives 
at  Oxford  the  honorary  degree  of  doctor  of  civil  law,  at  the 
same  time  with  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds.  The  king  sends  for  him, 
praises  his  "Essay,"  and  gives  him  a  pension  of  two  hundred 
pounds. 

Goldsmith  feels  more  acutely  the  denial  of  a  pension  to  him- 
self when  one  has  thus  been  given  unsolicited  to  a  man  he 
might  without  vanity  consider  so  much  his  inferior.  He  was 
not  one  to  conceal  his  feelings.  "Here's  such  a  stir,"  said  he 
one  day  at  Thrale's  table,  "about  a  fellow  that  has  written 
one  book,  and  I  have  written  so  many !" 

"Ah,   doctor!"  exclaimed  Johnson,   in  one  of  his  caustic 


238  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

moods,  "there  go  two  and  forty  sixpences,  you  know,  to  one 
guinea."  This  is  one  of  the  cuts  at  poor  Goldsmith  in  which 
Johnson  went  contrary  to  head  and  heart  in  his  love  for  say- 
ing what  is  called  a  "good  thing."  No  one  knew  better  than 
himself  the  comparative  superiority  of  the  writings  of  Gold- 
smith ;  but  the  jingle  of  the  sixpences  and  the  guinea  was  not 
to  be  resisted. 

"Everybody,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Thrale,  "loves  Dr.  Beattie, 
but  Goldsmith,  who  says  he  cannot  bear  the  sight  of  so  much 
applause  as  they  all  bestow  upon  him.  Did  he  not  tell  us 
so  himself  no  one  would  believe  he  was  so  exceedingly  ill- 
natured." 

He  told  them  so  himself  because  he  was  too  open  and  unre- 
served to  disguise  his  feelings,  and  because  he  really  consid- 
ered the  praise  lavished  on  Beattie  extravagant,  as  in  fact  it 
was.  It  was  all,  of  course,  set  down  to  sheer  envy  and  un- 
charitableness.  To  add  to  his  annoyance,  he  found  his  friend, 
Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  joining  in  the  universal  adulation.  He 
had  painted  a  full-length  portrait  of  Beattie  decked  in  the  doc- 
tor's robes  in  which  he  had  figured  at  Oxford,  with  the  ' '  Essay 
on  Truth"  under  his  arm  and  the  angel  of  truth  at  his  side, 
while  Voltaire  figured  as  one  of  the  demons  of  infidelity,  so- 
phistry, and  falsehood,  driven  into  utter  darkness. 

Goldsmith  had  known  Voltaire  in  early  life ;  he  had  been  his 
admirer  and  his  biographer ;  he  grieved  to  find  him  receiving 
such  an  insult  from  the  classic  pencil  of  his  friend.  "  It  is  un- 
worthy of  you,"  said  he  to  Sir  Joshua,  "to  debase  so  high  a 
genius  as  Voltaire  before  so  mean  a  writer  as  Beattie.  Beattie 
and  his  book  will  be  forgotten  in  ten  years,  while  Voltaire's 
fame  will  last  forever.  Take  care  it  does  not  perpetuate  this 
picture  to  the  shame  of  such  a  man  as  you."  This  noble  and 
high-minded  rebuke  is  the  only  instance  on  record  of  any  re- 
proachful words  between  the  poet  and  the  painter ;  and  we  are 
happy  to  find  that  it  did  not  destroy  the  harmony  of  their 
intercourse. 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  2Sd 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

TOIL  WITHOUT  HOPE — THE  POET  IN  THE  GREEN-ROOM — IN  THE 
FLOWER  GARDEN— AT  VAUXHALL— DISSIPATION  WITHOUT  GAY- 
ETY — CRADOCK  IN  TOWN — FRIENDLY  SYMPATHY — A  PARTING 
SCENE— AN  INVITATION  TO  PLEASURE. 

Thwarted  in  the  plans  and  disappointed  in  the  hopes  which 
had  recently  cheered  and  animated  him,  Goldsmith  found  the 
labor  at  his  half -finished  tasks  doubly  irksome  from  the  consci- 
entiousness that  the  completion  of  them  could  not  relieve  him 
from  his  pecuniary  embarrassments.  His  impaired  health, 
also,  rendered  him  less  capable  than  formerly  of  sedentary 
application,  and  continual  perplexities  disturbed  the  flow  of 
thought  necessary  for  original  composition.  He  lost  his  usual 
gayety  and  good-humor,  and  became,  at  times,  peevish  and 
irritable.  Too  proud  of  spirit  to  seek  sympathy  or  relief  from 
his  friends,  for  the  pecuniary  difficulties  he  had  brought  upon 
himself  by  his  errors  and  extravagance ;  and  unwilling,  per- 
haps, to  make  known  their  amount,  he  buried  his  cares  and 
anxieties  in  his  own  bosom,  and  endeavored  in  company  to 
keep  up  his  usual  air  of  gayety  and  unconcern.  This  gave  his 
conduct  an  appearance  of  fitfulness  and  caprice,  varying  sud- 
denly from  moodiness  to  mirth,  and  from  silent  gravity  to 
shallow  laughter ;  causing  surprise  and  ridicule  in  those  who 
were  not  aware  of  the  sickness  of  heart  which  lay  beneath. 

His  poetical  reputation,  too,  was  sometimes  a  disadvantage 
to  him ;  it  drew  upon  him  a  notoriety  which  he  was  not  always 
in  the  mood  or  the  vein  to  act  up  to.  "  Good  heavens,  Mr. 
Foote,"  exclaimed  an  actress  at  the  Haymarket  theatre,  "what 
a  humdrum  kind  of  a  man  Dr.  Goldsmith  appears  in  our  green- 
room compared  with  the  figure  he  makes  in  his  poetry !"  "  The 
reason  of  that,  madam,"  replied  Foote,  "is  because  the  muses 
are  better  company  than  the  players." 

Beauclerc's  letters  to  his  friend,  Lord  Charlemont,  who  was 
absent  in  Ireland,  give  us  now  and  then  an  indication  of  the 
whereabout  of  the  poet  during  the  present  year.  ' '  I  have 
been  but  once  to  the  club  since  you  left  England,"  writes  he-, 
"we  were  entertained,  as  usual,  with  Goldsmith's  absurdity." 
With  Beauclerc  everything  was  absurd  that  was  not  polished 


240  Oliver  goldsmith. 

and  pointed.  In  another  letter  he  threatens,  unless  Lord 
Charlemont  returns  to  England,  to  bring  over  the  whole  club, 
and  let  them  loose  upon  him  to  drive  him  home  by  their  pecu- 
liar habits  of  annoyance — Johnson  shall  spoil  his  books ;  Gold- 
smith shall  pull  his  flowers ;  and  last,  and  most  intolerable  of 
all,  Boswell  shall — talk  to  him.  It  would  appear  that  the  poet, 
who  had  a  passion  for  flowers,  was  apt  to  pass  much  of  his 
time  in  the  garden  when  on  a  visit  to  a  country  seat,  much  t  > 
the  detriment  of  the  flower-beds  and  the  despair  of  the  gar- 
dener. 

The  summer  wore  heavily  away  with  Goldsmith.  He  had 
not  his  usual  solace  of  a  country  retreat ;  his  health  was  im- 
paired and  his  spirits  depressed.  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  who 
perceived  the  state  of  his  mind,  kindly  gave  him  much  of  his 
company.  In  the  course  of  their  interchange  of  thought, 
Goldsmith  suggested  to  him  the  story  of  Ugolino,  as  a  subject 
for  his  pencil.  The  painting  founded  on  it  remains  a  memento 
of  their  friendship. 

On  the  4th  of  August  we  find  them  together  at  Vauxhall;  at 
that  time  a  place  in  high  vogue,  and  which  had  once  been  to 
Goldsmith  a  scene  of  Oriental  splendor  and  delight.  We  have, 
in  fact,  in  the  "  Citizen  of  the  World,"  a  picture  of  it  as  it  had 
struck  him  in  former  years  and  in  his  happier  moods.  "Upon 
entering  the  gardens,"  says  the  Chinese  philosopher,  "  I  found 
every  sense  occupied  with  more  than  expected  pleasure;  the 
lights  everywhere  glimmering  through  the  scarcely -moving 
trees;  the  full-bodied  concert  bursting  on  the  stillness  of  the 
night;  the  natural  concert  of  the  birds  in  the  more  retired 
part  of  the  grove,  vying  with  that  which  was  formed  by  art ; 
the  company  gayly  dressed,  looking  satisfaction,  and  the  tables 
spread  with  various  delicacies,  all  conspired  to  fill  my  imagin- 
ation with  the  visionary  happiness  of  the  Arabian  lawgiver, 
and  lifted  me  into  an  ecstasy  of  admiration.'* 

Everything  now,  however,  is  seen  with  different  eyes ;  with 
Mm  it  is  dissipation  without  pleasure ;  and  he  finds  it  impos- 
sible any  longer,  by  mingling  in  the  gay  and  giddy  throng  of 
apparently  prosperous  and  happy  beings,  to  escape  from  the 
carking  care  which  is  clinging  to  his  heart. 

His  kind  friend,  Cradock,  came  up  to  town  toward  autumn, 
when  all  the  fashionable  world  was  in  the  country,  to  give  his 
wife  the  benefit  of  a  skilful  dentist.     He  took  lodgings  in  Nor- 

*  Citizen  of  the  World,  Letter  xxi. 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  241 

folk  Street,  to  be  in  Goldsmith's  neighborhood,  and  passed 
most  of  his  mornings  with  him.  "I  found  him,"  he  says, 
"mueh  altered  and  at  times  very  low.  He  wished  me  to  look 
over  and  revise  some  of  his  works ;  but,  with  a  select  friend  or 
two,  I  was  more  pressing  that  he  should  publish  by  subscription 
his  two  celebrated  poems  of  the  '  Traveler1  and  the  '  Deserted 
Village,'  with  notes."  The  idea  of  Cradock  was,  that  the  sub- 
scription woidd  enable  wealthy  persons,  favorable  to  Gold- 
smith, to  contribute  to  his  pecuniary  relief  without  wounding 
his  pride.  " Goldsmith,"  said  he,  "readily  gave  up  to  me  his 
private  copies,  and  said,  'Pray  do  what  you  please  with  them.' 
But  while  he  sat  near  me,  he  rather  submitted  to  than  encour- 
aged my  zealous  proceedings." 

' '  I  one  morning,  called  upon  him,  however,  and  found  him 
infinitely  better  than  I  had  expected ;  and,  in  a  kind  of  exulting 
style,  he  exclaimed,  '  Here  are  some  of  the  best  of  my  prose 
writings ;  I  have  been  hard  at  work  since  midnight,  and  I  desire 
you  to  examine  them.'  '  These,'  said  I,  'are  excellent  indeed.' 
'They  are,'  replied  he.  'intended  as  an  introduction  to  a  body 
of  arts  and  sciences.' " 

Poor  Goldsmith  was,  in  fact,  gathering  together  the  frag- 
ments of  his  shipwreck;  the  notes  and  essays,  and  memoranda 
collected  for  his  dictionary,  and  proposed  to  found  on  them  a 
work  in  two  volumes,  to  be  entitled  "A  Survey  of  Experi- 
mental Philosophy." 

The  plan  of  the  subscription  came  to  nothing,  and  the  pro- 
jected survey  never  was  executed.  The  head  might  yet  devise, 
but  the  heart  was  failing  him ;  his  talent  at  hoping,  which  gave 
him  buoyancy  to  carry  out  his  enterprises,  was  almost  at  an 
end. 

Cradock's  farewell  scene  with  him  is  told  in  a  simple  but 
touching  manner. 

"The  day  before  I  was  to  set  out  for  Leicestershire,  I  insisted 
upon  his  dining  with  us.  He  replied,  '  I  will,  but  on  one  con- 
dition, that  you  will  not  ask  me  to  eat  anything.'  '  Nay,'  said 
I,  '  this  answer  is  absolutely  unkind,  for  I  had  hoped,  as  we  are 
supplied  from  the  Crown  and  Anchor,  that  you  would  have 
named  something  you  might  have  relished.'  'Well,' was  the 
reply,  '  if  you  will  but  explain  it  to  Mrs.  Cradock,  I  will  cer- 
tainly wait  upon  you.' 

"  The  doctor  found,  as  usual,  at  my  apartments,  newspapers 
and  pamphlets,  and  with  a  pen  and  ink  he  amused  himself  as 
well  as  he  could.     I  had  ordered  from  the  tavern  some  fish,  a 


242  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

roasted  joint  of  lamb,  and  a  tart ;  and  the  doctor  .either  sat 
down  or  walked  about  just  as  he  pleased.  After  dinner  he  took 
some  wine  with  biscuits ;  but  I  was  obliged  soon  to  leave  him 
for  a  while,  as  I  had  matters  to  settle  prior  to  my  next  day's 
journey.  On  my  return  coffee  wTas  ready,  and  the  doctor  ap- 
peared more  cheerful  (for  Mrs.  Cradock  was  always  rather  a 
favorite  with  him),  and  in  the  evening  he  endeavored  to  talk 
and  remark  as  usual,  but  all  was  forced.  He  stayed  tdl  mid- 
night, and  I  insisted  on  seeing  him  safe  home,  and  we  most 
cordially  shook  hands  at  the  Temple  gate."  Craclock  little 
thought  that  this  was  to  be  their  final  parting.  He  looked 
back  to  it  with  mournful  recollections  in  after  years,  and 
lamented  that  he  had  not  remained  longer  in  town  at  every 
inconvenience,  to  solace  the  poor  broken-spirited  poet. 

The  latter  continued  in  town  all  the  autumn.  At  the  open- 
ing of  the  Opera  House,  on  the  20th  of  November,  Mrs.  Yates, 
an  actress  whom  he  held  in  great  esteem,  delivered  a  poetical 
exordium  of  his  composition.  Beauclerc,  in  a  letter  to  Lord 
Charlemont,  pronounced  it  very  good,  and  predicted  that  it 
would  soon  be  in  all  the  papers.  It  does  not  appear,  however, 
to  have  been  ever  published.  In  his  fitful  state  of  mind  Gold- 
smith may  have  taken  no  care  about  it,  and  thus  it  has  been 
lost  to  the  world,  although  it  was  received  with  great  applause 
by  a  crowded  and  brilliant  audience. 

A  gleam  of  sunshine  breaks  through  the  gloom  that  was 
gathering  over  the  poet.  Toward  the  end  of  the  year  he  re- 
ceives another  Christmas  invitation  to  Barton.  A  country 
Christmas !  with  all  the  cordiality  of  the  fireside  circle,  and  the 
joyous  revelry  of  the  oaken  hall — what  a  contrast  to  the  lone- 
liness of  a  bachelor's  chambers  in  the  Temple !  It  is  not  to  be 
resisted.  But  how  is  poor  Goldsmith  to  raise  the  ways  and 
means?  His  purse  is  empty;  his  booksellers  are  already  in  ad- 
vance to  him.  As  a  last  resource,  he  applies  to  Garrick.  Their 
mutual  intimacy  at  Barton  may  have  suggested  him  as  an  al- 
ternative. The  old  loan  of  forty  pounds  has  never  been  paid ; 
and  Newbery's  note,  pledged  as  a  security,  has  never  been 
taken  up.  An  additional  loan  of  sixty  pounds  is  now  asked 
for,  thus  increasing  the  loan  to  one  hundred;  to  insure  the 
payment,  he  now  offers,  besides  Newbery's  note,  the  transfer 
of  the  comedy  of  the  Good-Nat ured  Man  to  Drury  Lane,  with 
such  alterations  as  Garrick  may  suggest.  Garrick,  in  reply, 
evades  the  offer  of  the  altered  comedy,  alludes  significantly  to 
a  new  one  which  Goldsmith  had  talked  of  writing  for  him, 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  243 

and  offers  to  furnish  the  money  required  on  his  own  accept- 
ance. 

The  reply  of  Goldsmith  bespeaks  a  heart  brimful  of  gratitude 
and  overflowing  with  fond  anticipations  of  Barton  and  the 
smiles  of  its  fair  residents.  "  My  dear  friend,"  writes  he,  "I 
thank  you.  I  wish  I  could  do  something  to  serve  you.  I  shall 
have  a  comedy  for  you  in  a  season,  or  two  at  farthest,  that  I 
believe  will  be  worth  your  acceptance,  for  I  fancy  I  will  make 
it  a  fine  thing.  You  shall  have  the  refusal.  ...  I  will  draw 
upon  you  one  month  after  date  for  sixty  pounds,  and  your  ac- 
ceptance will  be  ready  money,  pari  of  which  I  want  to  go  down 
to  Barton  ivith.  May  God  preserve  my  honest  little  man,  for 
he  has  my  heart.     Ever, 

"  Oliver  Goldsmith." 

And  having  thus  scrambled  together  a  little  pocket  money, 
by  hard  contrivance,  poor  Goldsmith  turns  his  back  upon  care 
and  trouble,  and  Temple  quarters,  to  forget  for  a  time  his  des- 
olate bachelorhood  in  the  family  circle  and  a  Christmas  fireside 
at  Barton. 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 


A  RETURN  TO  DRUDGERY— FORCED  GAYETY— RETREAT  TO  THE 
COUNTRY — THE  POEM  OF  RETALIATION — PORTRAIT  OF  GARRICK 
—OF  GOLDSMITH— OF  REYNOLDS— ILLNESS  OF  THE  POET— HIS 
DEATH— GRIEF  OF  HIS  FRIENDS — A  LAST  WORD  RESPECTING 
THE  JESSAMY  BRIDE. 

The  Barton  festivities  are  over;  Christmas,  with  all  its 
home-felt  revelry  of  the  heart,  has  passed  like  a  dream ;  the 
Jessamy  Bride  has  beamed  her  last  smile  upon  the  poor  poet, 
and  the  early  part  of  1774  finds  him  in  his  now  dreary  bachelor 
abode  in  the  Temple,  toiling  fitfully  and  hopelessly  at  a  multi- 
plicity of  tasks.  His  "  Animated  Nature,"  so  long  delayed,  so 
often  interrupted,  is  at  length  announced  for  publication, 
though  it  has  yet  to  receive  a  few  finishing  touches.  He  is 
preparing  a  third  "  History  of  England,"  to  be  compressed  and 
condensed  in  one  volume,  for  the  use  of  schools.  He  is  revis- 
ing his  "  Inquiry  into  Polite  Learning,"  for  which  he  receives 
the  pittance  of  five  guineas,  much  needed  in  his  present  scanti- 


244  OLIVER  O  OLD  SMITH. 

ness  of  purse;  he  is  arranging  his  ''Survey  of  Experimental 
Philosophy,"  and  he  is  translating  the  "Comic  Romance  of 
Scarron."  Such  is  a  part  of  the  various  labors  of  a  drudging, 
depressing  kind,  by  which  his  head  is  made  weary  and  his 
heart  faint.  "  If  there  is  a  mental  drudgery."  says  Sir  Walter 
Scott,  ' '  which  lowers  the  spirits  and  lacerates  the  nerves,  like 
the  toil  of  a  slave,  it  is  that  which  is  exacted  by  literary  com- 
position, when  the  heart  is  not  in  unison  with  the  work  upon 
which  the  head  is  employed.  Add  to  the  unhappy  author's 
task  sickness,  sorrow,  or  the  pressure  of  unfavorable  circum- 
stances, and  the  labor  of  the  bondsman  becomes  light  in  com- 
parison."' Goldsmith  again  makes  an  effort  to  rally  his  spirits 
by  going  into  gay  society.  ' '  Our  club.  *'  writes  Beauclerc  to 
Charlemont,  on  the  12th  of  February,-  "has  dwindled  away  to 
nothing.  Sir  Joshua  and  Goldsmith  have  got  into  such  a 
round  of  pleasures  that  they  have  no  time."  This  shows  how 
little  Beauclerc  was  the  companion  of  the  poet's  mind,  or  coidd 
judge  of  him  below  the  surface.  Reynolds,  the  kind  participator 
in  joyless  dissipation,  could  have  told  a  different  story  of  his 
companion's  heart-sick  gayety. 

In  this  forced  mood  Goldsmith  gave  entertainments  in  his 
chambers  in  the  Temple:  the  last  of  which  was  a  dinner  to 
Johnson,  Reynolds,  and  others  of  his  intimates,  who  partook 
with  sorrow  and  reluctance  of  his  imprudent  hospitality.  The 
first  course  vexed  them  by  its  needless  profusion.  When  a 
second,  equally  extravagant,  was  served  up,  Johnson  and  Rey- 
nolds declined  to  partake  of  it ;  the  rest  of  the  company,  under- 
standing their  motives,  followed  their  example,  and  the  dishes 
went  from  the  table  untasted.  Goldsmith  felt  sensibly  this 
sdent  and  well-intended  rebuke. 

The  gayeties  of  society,  however,  cannot  medicine  for  any 
length  of  time  a  mind  diseased.  Wearied  by  the  distractions 
and  harassed  by  the  expenses  of  a  town  life,  which  he  had  not 
the  discretion  to  regulate,  Goldsmith  took  the  resolution,  too 
tardily  adopted,  of  retiring  to  the  serene  quiet  and  cheap  and 
healthful  pleasures  of  the  country,  and  of  passing  only  two 
months  of  the  year  in  London.  He  accordingly  made  arrange- 
ments to  sell  his  right  in  the  Temple  chambers,  and  in  the 
month  of  March  retired  to  his  country  quarters  at  Hyde,  there 
to  devote  himself  to  toil.  At  this  dispirited  juncture  when  in- 
spiration seemed  to  be  at  an  end.  and  the  poetic  fire  extin- 
guished, a  spark  fell  on  his  combustible  imagination  and  set  in 
a  blaze. 


OLIVER  QQL&SMITH.  246 

He  belonged  to  a  temporary  association  of  men  of  talent, 
some  of  them  members  of  the  Literary  Club,  who  dined  to 
gether  occasionally  at  the  St.  James'  Coffee-house.  At  these 
dinners,  as  usual,  he  was  one  of  the  last  to  arrive.  On  one  oc- 
casion, when  he  was  more  dilatory  than  usual,  a  whim  seized 
the  company  to  write  epitaphs  on  him,  as  ' '  The  late  Dr.  Gold- 
smith," and  several  were  thrown  off  in  a  playful  vein,  hitting 
off  his  peculiarities.  The  only  one  extant  was  written  by 
Garrick,  and  has  been  preserved,  very  probably,  by  its  pun- 
gency : 

"  Here  lies  poor  Goldsmith,  for  shortness  called  Noll, 
Who  wrote  like  an  angel,  but  talked  like  poor  poll." 

Goldsmith  did  not  relish  the  sarcasm,  especially  as  coming 
from  such  a  quarter.  He  was  not  very  ready  at  repartee ;  but 
he  took  his  time,  and  in  the  interval  of  his  various  tasks, 
concocted  a  series  of  epigrammatic  sketches,  under  the  title  of 
Retaliation,  in  which  the  characters  of  bis  distinguished  inti- 
mates were  admirably  hit  off,  with  a  mixture  of  generous 
praise  and  good-humored  raillery.  In  fact  the  poem  for  its 
graphic  truth;  its  nice  discrimination;  its  terse  good  sense, 
and  its  shrewd  knowledge  of  the  world,  must  have  electrified 
the  club  almost  as  much  as  the  first  appearance  of  The  Travel- 
ler, and  let  them  still  deeper  into  the  character  and  talents  of 
the  man  they  had  been  accustomed  to  consider  as  their  butt. 
Retaliation,  in  a  word,  closed  his  accounts  with  the  club,  and 
balanced  all  his  previous  deficiencies. 

The  portraitjof  David  Garrick  is  one  of  the  most  elaborate  in 
the  poem.  When  the  poet  came  to  touch  it  off,  he  had  some 
lurking  piques  to  gratify,  which  the  recent  attack  had  re- 
vived. He  may  have  forgotten  David's  cavalier  treatment  of 
him  in  the  early  days  of  his  comparative  obscurity ;  he  may 
have  forgiven  his  refusal  of  his  plays;  but  Garrick  had  been 
capricious  in  his  conduct  in  the  times  of  their  recent  inter- 
course; sometimes  treating  him  with  gross  familiarity,  at 
other  times  affecting  dignity  and  reserve,  and  assuming  airs 
of  superiority ;  frequently  he  had  been  facetious  and  witty  in 
company  at  his  expense,  and  lastly  he  had  been  guilty  of  the 
couplet  just  quoted.  Goldsmith,  therefore,  touched  off  the 
lights  and  shadows  of  his  character  with  a  free  hand,  and,  at 
the  same  time,  gave  a  side  hit  at  his  old  rival,  Kelly,  and  his 
critical  persecutor,  Kenrick,  in  making  them  sycophantic 
satellites  of  the  actor.     Goldsmith,  however,  was  void  of  gall, 


246  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

even  in  his  revenge,  and  his  very  satire  was  more  humorous 
than  caustic : 

"  Here  lies  David  Garrick,  describe  him  who  can, 
An  abridgment  of  all  that  was  pleasant  in  man ; 
As  an  actor,  confess'd  without  rival  to  shine ; 
As  a  wit,  if  not  first,  in  the  very  first  line: 
Yet,  with  talents  like  these,  and  an  excellent  heart, 
The  man  had  his  failings,  a  dupe  to  his  art. 
Like  an  ill-judging  beauty,  his  colors  he  spread, 
And  beplaster'd  with  rouge  his  own  natural  red. 
On  the  stage  he  was  natural,  simple,  affecting; 
'Twas  only  that  when  he  was  off  he  was  acting. 
With  no  reason  on  earth  to  go  out  of  his  way, 
He  turn'd  and  he  varied  full  ten  times  a  day: 
Though  secure  of  our  hearts,  yet  confoundedly  sick 
If  they  were  not  his  own  by  finessing  and  trick: 
He  cast  off  his  friends  as  a  huntsman  his  pack, 
For  he  knew,  when  he  pleased,  he  could  whistle  them  back. 
Of  praise  a  mere  glutton,  he  swallow'd  what  came, 
And  the  puff  of  a  dunce  he  mistook  it  for  fame; 
Till  his  relish,  grown  callous  almost  to  disease, 
Who  pepper'd  the  highest  was  surest  to  please. 
But  let  us  be  candid,  and  speak  out  our  mind, 
If  dunces  applauded,  he  paid  them  in  kind. 
Ye  Kenricks,  ye  Kellys,  and  Woodfalls  so  grave, 
What  a  commerce  was  yours,  while  you  got  and  you  gave! 
How  did  Grub  Street  reecho  the  shouts  that  you  raised, 
While  he  was  be-Rosciused  and  you  were  be-praisedJ 
But  peace  to  his  spirit,  wherever  it  flies, 
To  act  as  an  angel  and  mis  with  the  skies: 
Those  poets  who  owe  their  best  fame  to  his  skill, 
Shall  still  be  his  flatterers,  go  where  he  will ; 
Old  Shakespeare  receive  him  with  praise  and  with  love. 
And  Beaumonts  and  Bens  be  his  Kellys  above." 

This  portion  of  Eetaliation  soon  brought  a  retort  from 
Garrick,  which  we  insert,  as  giving  something  of  a  likeness  of 
Goldsmith,  though  in  broad  caricature : 

"  Here,  Hermes,  says  Jove,  who  with  nectar  was  mellow. 
Go  fetch  me  some  clay— I  will  make  an  odd  fellow: 
Right  and  wrong  shall  be  jumbled,  much  gold  and  some  dross, 
Without  cause  be  he  pleased,  without  cause  be  he  cross; 
Be  sure,  as  I  work,  to  throw  in  contradictions, 
A  great  love  of  truth,  yet  a  mind  turn'd  to  fictions: 
Now  mix  these  ingredients,  which,  warm'd  in  the  baking 
Turn'd  to  learning  and  gaming,  religion,  and  raking. 
With  the  love  of  a  wench,  let  his  writings  be  chaste; 
Tip  his  tongue  with  strange  matters,  his  lips  with  fine  taste; 
That  the  rake  and  the  poet,  o'er  all  may  prevail, 
Set  fire  to  the  head  and  set  fire  to  the  tail ; 
For  the  joy  of  each  sex  on  the  world  I'll  bestow  it, 
This  scholar,  rake,  Christian,  dupe, gamester,  and  poet. 
Though  a  mixture  so  odd,  he  shall  merit  great  fame, 
And  among  brother  mortals  be  Goldsmith  his  name; 
When  on  earth  this  strange  meteor  no  more  shall  appear, 
You,  Hermes,  shell  fetch  him,  to  make  us  sport  here." 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  247 

The  charge  of  raking,  so  repeatedly  advanced  in  the  fore- 
going lines,  must  be  considered  a  sportive  one,  founded  per- 
haps, on  an  incident  or  two  within  Garrick's  knowledge,  but 
not  borne  out  by  the  course  of  Goldsmith's  life.  He  seems  to 
have  had  a  tender  sentiment  for  the  sex,  but  perfectly  free 
from  libertinism.  Neither  was  he  an  habitual  gamester.  The 
strictest  scrutiny  has  detected  no  settled  vice  of  the  kind.  He 
was  fond  of  a  game  of  cards,  but  an  unskilful  and  careless 
player.  Cards  in  those  days  were  universally  introduced  into 
society.  High  play  was,  in  fact,  a  fashionable  amusement,  as 
at  one  time  was  deep  drinking;  and  a  man  might  occasionally 
lose  large  sums,  and  be  beguiled  into  deep  potations,  without 
incurring  the  character  of  a  gamester  or  a  drunkard.  Poor 
Goldsmith,  on  his  advent  into  high  society,  .assumed  fine 
notions  with  fine  clothes ;  he  was  thrown  occasionally  among 
high  players,  men  of  fortune  who  could  sport  then-  cool 
hundreds  as  carelessly  as  his  early  comrades  at  Ballymahon 
could  their  half-crowns.  Being  at  all  times  magnificent  in 
money  matters,  he  may  have  played  with  them  in  their  own 
way,  without  considering  that  what  was  sport  to  them  to  him 
was  ruin.  Indeed  part  of  his  financial  embarrassments  may 
have  arisen  from  losses  of  the  kind,  incurred  inadvertently, 
not  in  the  indulgence  of  a  habit.  "Ido  not  believe  Goldsmith 
to  have  deserved  the  name  of  gamester,"  said  one  of  his  con- 
temporaries; "he  liked  cards  very  well,  as  other  people  do, 
and  lost  and  won  occasionally ;  but  as  far  as  I  saw  or  heard, 
and  I  had  many  opportunities  of  hearing,  never  any  consider- 
able sum.  If  he  gamed  with  any  one,  it  was  probably  with 
Beauclerc,  but  I  do  not  know  that  such  was  the  case." 

Retaliation,  as  we  have  already  observed,  was  thrown  off  in 
parts,  at  intervals,  and  was  never  completed.  Some  charac- 
ters, originally  intended  to  be  introduced,  remained  unat- 
tempted;  others  were  but  partially  sketched — such  was  the 
one  of  Reynolds,  the  friend  of  his  heart,  and  which  he 
commenced  with  a  felicity  which  makes  us  regret  that  it 
should  remain  unfinished. 

"  Here  Reynolds  is  laid,  and  to  tell  you  my  mind, 
He  has  not  left  a  wiser  or  better  behind. 
His  pencil  was  striking,  resistless,  and  grand ; 
His  manners  were  gentle,  complying,  and  bland ; 
Still  born  to  improve  us  in  every  part, 
His  pencil  our  faces,  his  manners  our  heart. 
To  coxcombs  averse,  yet  most  civilly  steering, 
When  they  judged  without  skill  he  was  still  hard  of  hearing: 


248  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

When  they  talked  of  their  Raphaels,  Correggios,  and  stuff, 
He  shifted  his  trumpet  and  only  took  snuff. 
By  flattery  unspoiled  ' ' 

The  friendly  portrait  stood  unfinished  on  the  easel ;  the  hand 
of  the  artist  had  failed !  An  access  of  a  local  complaint,  under 
which  he  had  suffered  for  some  time  past,  added  to  a  general 
prostration  of  health,  brought  Goldsmith  back  to  town  before 
he  had  well  settled  himself  in  the  country.  The  local  complaint 
subsided,  but  was  followed  by  a  low  nervous  fever.  He  was 
not  aware  of  his  critical  situation,  and  intended  to  be  at  the 
club  on  the  25th  of  March,  on  which  occasion  Charles  Fox,  Sir 
Charles  Bunbury  (one  of  the  Horneck  connection),  and  two 
other  new  members  were  to  be  present.  In  the  afternoon,  how- 
ever, he  felt  so  unwell  as  to  take  to  his  bed,  and  his  symptoms 
soon  acquired  sufficient  force  to  keep  him  there.  His  malady 
fluctuated  for  several  days,  and  hopes  were  entertained  of  his 
recovery,  but  they  proved  fallacious.  He  had  skilful  medical 
aid  and  faithful  nursing,  but  he  would  not  follow  the  advice  of 
his  physicians,  and  persisted  in  the  use  of  James'  powders, 
which  he  had  once  found  beneficial,  but  which  were  now  inju- 
rious to  him.  His  appetite  was  gone,  his  strength  failed  him, 
but  Ms  mind  remained  clear,  and  was  perhaps  too  active  for  his 
frame.  Anxieties  and  disappointments  which  had  previously 
sapped  his  constitution,  doubtless  aggravated  his  present  com- 
plaint and  rendered  him  sleepless.  In  reply  to  an  inquiry  of 
his  physician,  he  acknowledged  that  his  mind  was  ill  at  ease. 
This  was  his  last  reply ;  he  was  too  weak  to  talk,  and  in  gen- 
eral took  no  notice  of  what  was  said  to  him.  He  sank  at  last 
into  a  deep  sleep,  and  it  was  hoped  a  favorable  crisis  had  ar- 
rived. He  awoke,  however,  in  strong  convulsions,  which  con- 
tinued without  intermission  until  he  expired,  on  the  fourth  of 
April,  at  five  o'clock  in  the  morning ;  being  in  the  forty  -sixth 
year  of  his  age. 

His  death  was  a  shock  to  the  literary  world,  and  a  deep  af- 
fliction to  a  wide  circle  of  intimates  and  friends ;  for  with  all 
his  foibles  and  peculiarities,  he  was  fully  as  much  beloved  as  he 
was  admired.  Burke,  on  hearing  the  news,  burst  into  tears. 
Sir  Joshua  Eeynolds  threw  by  his  pencil  for  the  day,  and 
grieved  more  than  he  had  done  in  times  of  great  family  distress. 
"I  was  abroad  at  the  time  of  his  death,"  writes  Dr.  M'Donnell, 
the  youth  whom  when  in  distress  he  had  employed  as  an 
amanuensis,  "and  I  wept  bitterly  when  the  intelligence  fir;  t 
reached  me.     A  blank  came  over  my  heart  as  if  I  had  lost  one 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  249 

of  my  nearest  relatives,  and  was  followed  for  some  days  by  a 
feeling  of  despondency."  Johnson  felt  the  blow  deeply  and 
gloomily.  In  writing  some  time  afterward  to  Boswell,  he  ob- 
served, ' '  Of  poor  Dr.  Goldsmith  there  is  little  to  be  told  more 
than  the  papers  have  made  public.  He  died  of  a  fever,  made, 
I  am  afraid,  more  violent  by  uneasiness  of  mind.  His  debts 
began  to  be  heavy,  and  all  his  resources  were  exhausted.  Sir 
Joshua  is  of  opinion  that  he  owed  no  less  than  two  thousand 
pounds.    Was  ever  poet  so  trusted  before?" 

Among  his  debts  were  seventy-nine  pounds  due  to  his  tailor, 
Mr.  William  Filby,  from  whom  he  had  received  a  new  suit  but 
a  few  days  before  his  death.  "  My  father, "  said  the  younger 
Filby,  ' '  though  a  loser  to  that  amount,  attributed  no  blame  to 
Goldsmith;  he  had  been  a  good  customer,  and  had  he  lived 
would  have  paid  every  farthing."  Others  of  his  tradespeople 
evinced  the  same  confidence  in  his  integrity,  notwithstanding 
his  heedlessness.  Two  sister  milliners  in  Temple  Lane,  who 
had  been  accustomed  to  deal  with  him,  were  concerned,  when 
told,  some  time  before  his  death,  of  his  pecuniary  embarrass- 
ments. "Oh,  sir,"  said  they  to  Mr.  Cradock,  "sooner  persuade 
him  to  let  us  work  for  him  gratis  than  apply  to  any  other ;  we 
are  sure  he  will  pay  us  when  he  can." 

On  the  stairs  of  his  apartment  there  was  the  lamentation  of 
the  old  and  infirm,  and  the  sobbing  of  women ;  poor  objects  of 
his  charity  to  whom  he  had  never  turned  a  deaf  ear,  even  when 
struggling  himself  with  poverty. 

But  there  was  one  mourner,  whose  enthusiasm  for  his  mem- 
ory, could  it  have  been  foreseen,  might  have  soothed  the  bitter- 
ness of  death.  After  the  coffin  had  been  screwed  down,  a  lock 
of  his  hair  was  requested  for  a  'lady,  a  particular  friend,  who 
wished  to  preserve  ifc  as  a  remembrance.  It  was  the  beautiful 
Mary  Horneck — the  Jessamy  Bride.  The  coffin  was  opened 
again,  and  a  lock  of  hair  cut  off ;  which  she  treasured  to  her 
dying  day.  Poor  Goldsmith !  could  he  have  foreseen  that  such 
a  memorial  of  him  was  to  be  thus  cherished. 

One  word  more  concerning  this  lady,  to  whom  we  have  so 
often  ventured  to  advert.  She  survived  almost  to  the  present 
day.  Hazlitt  met  her  at  Northcote's  painting-room,  about 
twenty  years  since,  as  Mrs.  Gw}-n,  the  widow  of  a  General 
Gwyn  of  the  army.  She  was  at  that  time  upward  of  seventy 
years  of  age.  Still,  he  said,  she  was  beautiful,  beautiful  even 
in  years.  After  she  was  gone,  Hazlitt  remarked  how  handsome 
she  still  was.      "I  do  not  know,"  said  Northcote,  "why  she 


250  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

is  so  kind  as  to  come  and  see  me,  except  that  I  am  the  last  link 
in  the  chain  that  connects  her  with  all  those  she  most  esteemed 
when  young— Johnson,  Reynolds,  Goldsmith— and  remind  her 
of  the  most  delightful  period  of  her  life."  "Not  only  so," 
observed  Hazlitt,  "but  you  remember  what  she  was  at  twenty; 
and  you  thus  bring  back  to  her  the  triumphs  of  her  youth  — 
that  pride  of  beauty,  which  must  be  the  more  fondly  cherished 
as  it  has  no  external  vouchers,  and  lives  chiefly  in  the  bosom 
of  its  once  lovely  possessor.  In  her,  however,  the  Graces  had 
triumphed  over  time;  she  was  one  of  Ninon  de  l'Enclos'  people, 
of  the  last  of  the  immortals.  I  could  almost  fancy  the  shade  of 
Goldsmith  in  the  room,  looking  round  with  complacency." 

The  Jessamy  Bride  survived  her  sister  upward  of  forty  years, 
and  died  in  1840,  within  a  few  days  of  completing  her"  eighty- 
eighth  year.  "She  had  gone  through  all  the  stages  of  life"" 
says  Northcote,  "and  had  lent  a  grace  to  each."  However 
gayly  she  may  have  sported  with  the  half-concealed  admiration 
of  the  poor  awkward  poet  in  the  heydey  of  her  youth  and 
beauty,  and  however  much  it  may  have  been  made  a  subject 
of  teasing  by  her  youthful  companions,  she  evidently  prided 
herself  in  after  years  upon  having  been  an  object  of  his  affec- 
tionate regard ;  it  certainly  rendered  her  interesting  through- 
out life  in  the  eyes  of  his  admirers,  and  has  hung  a  poetical 
wreath  above  her  grave. 


CHAPTER  XLV. 


THE  FUNERAL — THE  MONUMENT — THE  EPITAPH — CONCLUDING 

REMARKS. 

In  the  warm  feeling  of  the  moment,  while  the  remains  of  the 
poet  were  scarce  cold,  it  was  determined  by  his  friends  to 
honor  them  by  a  public  funeral,  and  a  tomb  in  Westminster 
Abbey.  His  very  pall-bearers  were  designated:  Lord  Shel 
burne,  Lord  Lowth,  Sir  Joshua  Eeynolds;  the  Hon.  Mr. 
Beauclerc,  Mr.  Burke,  and  David  Garrick.  This  feeling  cooled 
down,  however,  when  it  was  discovered  that  he  died  in  debt, 
and  had  not  left  wherewithal  to  pay  for  such  expensive  obse- 
quies. Five  days  after  his  death,  therefore,  at  five  o'clock  of 
Saturday  evening,  the  9th  of  April,  he  was  privately  interred 
in  the  burying-ground  of  the  Temple  Church,  a  few  persons 
attending  as  mourners,  among  whom  we  do  not  find  specified 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  251 

any  of  his  peculiar  and  distinguished  friends.  The  chief 
mourner  was  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds's  nephew,  Palmer,  after 
ward  Dean  of  Cashel.  One  person,  however,  from  whom  it 
was  but  little  to  be  expected,  attended  the  funeral  and  evinced 
real  sorrow  on  the  occasion.  This  was  Hugh  Kelly,  once  the 
dramatic  rival  of  the  deceased,  and  often,  it  is  said,  his  anony- 
mous assailant  in  the  newspapers.  If  he  had  really  been  guilty 
of  this  basest  of  literary  offences,  he  was  punished  by  the 
stings  of  remorse,  for  we  are  told  that  he  shed  bitter  tears 
over  the  grave  of  the  man  he  had  injured.  His  tardy  atone- 
ment only  provoked  the  lash  of  some  unknown  satirist,  as  the 
following  lines  will  show : 

"  Hence  Kelly,  who  years,  without  honor  or  shame, 
Had  been  sticking  his  bodkin  iu  Oliver's  fame, 
Who  thought,  like  the  Tartar,  by  this  to  inherit 
His  genius,  his  learning,  simplicity,  spirit; 
Now  sets  every  featme  to  weep  o'er  his  fate, 
And  acts  as  a  mourner  to  blubber  in  state." 

One  base  wretch  deserves  to  be  mentioned,  the  reptile  Ken- 
rick,  who,  after  having  repeatedly  slandered  Goldsmith,  while 
living,  had  the  audacity  to  insult  his  memory  when  dead.  The 
following  distich  is  sufficient  to  show  his  malignity,  and  to 
hold  him  up  to  execration : 

"  By  his  own  art,  who  justly  died, 
A  blund'ring,  artless  suicide: 
Share,  earthworms,  share,  since  now  he's  dead, 
His  megrim,  maggot-bitten  head." 

This  scurrilous  epitaph  produced  a  burst  of  public  indigna- 
tion that  awed  for  a  time  even  the  infamous  Kenrick  into 
silence.  On  the  other  hand,  the  press  teemed  with  tributes  in 
verse  and  prose  to  the  memory  of  the  deceased ;  all  evincing 
the  mingled  feeling  of  admiration  for  the  author  and  affection 
for  the  man. 

Not  long  after  his  death  the  Literary  Club  set  on  foot  a  sub- 
scription, and  raised  a  fund  to  erect  a  monument  to  his  mem 
ory  in  "Westminster  Abbey.  It  was  executed  by  Nollekins, 
and  consisted  simply  of  a  bust  of  the  poet  in  profile,  in  high 
relief,  in  a  medallion,  and  was  placed  in  the  area  of  a  pointed 
arch,  over  the  south  door  in  Poets'  Corner,  between  the  monu- 
ments of  Gay  and  the  Duke  of  Argyle.  Johnson  furnished  a 
Latin  epitaph,  which  was  read  at  the  table  of  Sir  Joshua  Rey- 
nolds, where  several  members  of  the  club  and  other  friends  of 
the  deceased  were  present.      Though  considered  by  them  a 


252  OLIVER   Q  OLD  SMITH. 

masterly  composition,  they  thought  the  literary  character  of 
the  poet  not  defined  with  sufficient  exactness,  and  they  pre- 
ferred that  the  epitaph  should  be  in  English  rather  than  Latin, 
as  "the  memory  of  so  eminent  an  English  writer  ought  to  be 
perpetuated  in  the  language  to  which  his  works  were  likely  to 
be  so  lasting  an  ornament." 

These  objections  were  reduced  to  writing,  to  be  respectfully 
submitted  to  Johnson,  but  such  was  the  awe  entertained  of  his 
frown,  that  every  one  shrank  from  putting  his  name  first  to 
the  instrument ;  whereupon  their  names  were  written  about  in 
a  circle,  making  what  mutinous  sailors  call  a  Round  Robin. 
Johnson  received  it  hah0  graciously,  half  grimly.  ' '  He  was 
willing,"  he  said,  "to  modify  the  sense  of  the  epitaph  in  any 
manner  which  the  gentlemen  pleased;  but  he  never  would  con- 
sent to  disgrace  the  walls  of  Westminster  Abbey  with, an  English 
inscription.'''1  Seeing  the  names  of  Dr.  Wharton  and  Edmund 
Burke  among  the  signers,  "he  wondered,"  he  said,  "  that  Joe 
Wharton,  a  scholar  by  profession,  should  be  such  a  fool ;  and 
should  have  thought  that  Mund  Burke  would  have  had  more 
sense."  The  following  is  the  epitaph  as  it  stands  inscribed  on 
a  white  marble  tablet  beneath  the  bust : 

"  OLIVARII  GOLDSMITH, 

Poetae,  Physici,  Historici, 
Qui  nullum  fere  scribendi  genus 

Non  tetigit, 

Nullum  quod  tetigit  non  ornavit 

Sive  risus  essent  movendi, 

Sive  lacrymae, 

Affectuum  potens  ac  lenis  dominator: 

Ingenio  sublimis,  vividus,  versatilis, 

Oratione  grandis,  nitidus,  venustus: 

Hoc  monumento  memoriam  coluit 

Sodalium  amor, 

Amicorum  fides, 

Lectorum  veneratio. 

Natus  in  Hibernia  Forniae  Longfordiensis, 

In  loco  cui  nomeu  Pallas, 

Nov.  xsxx.  mdccxxxi.  ; 

Eblanag  Uteris  institutus; 

Obiit  Londini, 
April  rv.  mdcclxxiv."  * 

*  The  following  translation  is  from  Croker's  edition  of  Boswell's  Johnson. 
OF  OUVER  GOfcDSMITH— 

A  Poet,  Naturalist,  and  Historian, 

Who  left  scarcely  any  style  of  writing  untouched. 

And  touched  nothing  that  he  did  not  adorn ; 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  253 

Wc  shall  not  pretend  to  follow  these  anecdotes  of  the  life  of 
Goldsmith  with  any  critical  dissertation  on  his  writings;  their 
merits  have  long  since  been  fully  discussed,  and  their  station 
in  the  scale  of  literary  merit  permanently  established.  They 
have  outlasted  generations  of  works  of  higher  power  and  wider 
scope,  and  will  continue  to  outlast  succeeding  generations,  for 
they  have  that  magic  charm  of  style  by  which  works  are  em- 
balmed to  perpetuity.  Neither  shall  we  attempt  a  regular 
analysis  of  the  character  of  the  poet,  but  will  indulge  in  a  few 
desultory  remarks  in  addition  to  those  scattered  throughout 
the  preceding  chapters. 

Never  was  the  trite,  because  sage  apothegm,  that  "  The  child 
is  father  to  the  man, "more  fully  verified  than  in  the  case  of 
Goldsmith.  He  is  shy,  awkward,  and  blundering  in  child- 
hood, yet  full  of  sensibility;  he  is  a  butt  for  the  jeers  and 
jokes  of  his  companions,  but  apt  to  surprise  and  confound 
them  by  sudden  and  witty  repartees ;  he  is  dull  and  stupid  at 
his  tasks,  yet  an  eager  and  intelligent  devourer  of  the  travel- 
ling tales  and  campaigning  stories  of  his  half  military  peda- 
gogue ;  he  may  be  a  dunce,  but  he  is  already  a  rhymer ;  and 
his  early  scintillations  of  poetry  awaken  the  expectations  of 
his  friends.  He  seems  from  infancy  to  have  been  compounded 
of  two  natures,  one  bright,  the  other  blundering;  or  to  have 
had  fairy  gifts  laid  in  his  cradle  by  the  "good  people"  who 
haunted  Ms  birthplace,  the  old  goblin  mansion  on  the  banks 
of  the  Inny. 

He  carries  with  him  the  wayward  elfin  spirit,  if  we  may  so 
term  it,  throughout  his  career.  His  fairy  gifts  are  of  no  avad 
at  school,  academy,  or  college ;  they  unfit  him  for  close  study 


Of  all  the  passions, 

Whether  smiles  were  to  be  moved  or  tears, 

A  powerful  yet  gentle  master; 

In  genius,  sublime,  vivid,  versatile, 

In  style,  elevated,  clear,  elegant — 

The  love  of  companions, 

The  fidelity  of  friends, 

And  the  veneration  of  readers, 

Have  by  this  monument  houored  the  memory. 

He  was  born  in  Ireland, 

At  a  place  called  Pallas, 

[In  the  parish]  of  Forney,  [and  county]  of  Longford, 

On  the  29th  Nov.,  1731. 

Educated  at  [the  University  of]  Dublin, 

And  died  in  London, 

April  4th,  1774. 


254  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

and  practical  science,  and  render  him  heedless  of  everything 
that  does  not  address  itself  to  his  poetical  imagination  and 
genial  and  festive  f eelings ;  they  dispose  him  to  break  away 
from  restraint,  to  stroll  about  hedges,  green  lanes,  and  haunted 
streams,  to  revel  with  jovial  companions,  or  to  rove  the 
country  like  a  gipsy  in  quest  of  odd  adventures. 

As  if  confiding  in  these  delusive  gifts,  he  takes  no  heed  of 
the  present  nor  care  for  the  future,  lays  no  regular  and  solid 
foundation  of  knowledge,  follows  out  no  plan,  adopts  and  dis- 
cards those  recommended  hy  his  friends,  at  one  time  prepares 
for  the  ministry,  next  turns  to  the  law,  and  then  fixes  upon 
medicine.  He  repairs  to  Edinburgh,  the  great  emporium  of 
medical  science,  but  the  fairy  gifts  accompany  him;  he  idles 
and  frolics  away  his  time  there,  imbibing  only  such  knowledge 
as  is  agreeable  to  him;  makes  an  excursion  to  the  poetical 
regions  of  the  Highlands ;  and  having  walked  the  hospitals  for 
the  customary  time,  sets  off  to  ramble  over  the  Continent,  in 
quest  of  novelty  rather  than  knowledge.  His  whole  tour  is  a 
poetical  one.  He  fancies  he  is  playing  the  philosopher  while 
he  is  really  playing  the  poet;  and  though  professedly  he 
attends  lectures  and  visits  foreign  universities,  so  deficient  is 
he  on  his  return,  in  the  studies  for  which  he  set  out,  that  he 
fails  in  an  examination  as  a  surgeon's  mate ;  and  while  figur- 
ing as  a  doctor  of  medicine,  is  outvied  on  a  point  of  practice 
by  his  apothecary.  Baffled  in  every  regular  pursuit,  after 
trying  in  vain  some  of  the  humbler  callings  of  commonplace 
life,  he  is  driven  almost  by  chance  to  the  exercise  of  his  pen, 
and  here  the  fairy  gifts  come  to  his  assistance.  For  a  long 
time,  however,  he  seems  unaware  of  the  magic  properties  of 
that  pen ;  he  uses  it  only  as  a  makeshift  until  he  can  find  a 
legitimate  means  of  support.  He  is  not  a  learned  man,  and 
can  write  but  meagrely  and  at  second-hand  on  learned  sub- 
jects ;  but  he  has  a  quick  convertible  talent  that  seizes  lightly 
on  the  points  of  knowledge  necessary  to  the  illustration  of  a 
theme;  his  writings  for  a  time  are  desultory,  the  fruits  of 
what  he  has  seen  and  felt,  or  what  he  has  recently  and  hastily 
read ;  but  his  gifted  pen  transmutes  everything  into  gold,  and 
his  own  genial  nature  reflects  its  sunshine  through  his  pages. 

Still  unaware  of  his  powers  he  throws  off  his  writings 
anonymously,  to  go  with  the  writings  of  less  favored  men; 
and  it  is  a  long  time,  and  after  a  bitter  struggle  with  poverty 
and  humiliation,  before  he  acquires  confidence  in  his  literary 
talent  as  a  means  of  support,  and  begins  to  dream  of  reputation. 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  255 

From  this  time  his  pen  is  a  wand  of  power  in  his  hand,  and 
he  has  only  to  use  it  discreetly,  to  make  it  competent  to  all  his 
wants.  But  discretion  is  not  a  part  of  Goldsmith's  nature; 
and  it  seems  the  property  of  these  fairy  gifts  to  be  accom- 
panied by  moods  and  temperaments  to  render  their  effect 
precarious.  The  heedlessness  of  his  early  days ;  his  disposition 
for  social  enjoyment ;  his  habit  of  throwing  the  present  on  the 
neck  of  the  future,  still  continue.  His  expenses  forerun  his 
means ;  he  incurs  debts  on  the  faith  of  what  his  magic  pen  is 
to  produce,  and  then,  under  the  pressure  of  his  debts,  sacrifices 
its  productions  for  prices  far  below  their  value.  It  is  a 
redeeming  circumstance  in  his  prodigality,  that  it  is  lavished 
oftener  upon  others  than  upon  himself;  he  gives  without 
thought  or  stint,  and  is  the  continual  dupe  of  his  benevolence 
and  his  trustfulness  in  human  nature.  We  may  say  of  hhn  as 
he  says  of  one  of  his  heroes,  "He  could  not  stifle  the  natural 
impulse  which  he  had  to  do  good,  but  frequently  borrowed 
money  to  relieve  the  distressed ;  and  when  he  knew  not  con- 
veniently where  to  borrow,  he  has  been  observed  to  shed  tears 
as  he  passed  through  the  wretched  suppliants  who  attended 
his  gate. "... 

"  His  simplicity  in  trusting  persons  whom  he  had  no  previous 
reasons  to  place  confidence  in,  seems  to  be  one  of  those  lights 
of  his  character  which,  while  they  impeach  his  understanding, 
do  honor  to  his  benevolence.  The  low  and  the  timid  are  ever 
suspicious;  but  a  heart  impressed  with  honorable  sentiments 
expects  from  others  sympathetic  sincerity."  * 

His  heedlessness  in  pecuniary  matters,  which  had  rendered 
his  life  a  struggle  with  poverty  even  in  the  days  of  his  ob- 
scurity, rendered  his  struggle  still  more  intense  when  his  fairy 
gifts  had  elevated  him  into  the  society  of  the  wealthy  and 
luxurious,  and  imposed  on  his  simple  and  generous  spirit 
fancied  obligations  to  a  more  ample  and  bounteous  display. 

"  How  comes  it,"  says  a  recent  and  ingenious  critic,  "that 
in  all  the  miry  paths  of  life  which  he  had  trod,  no  .speck  ever 
sullied  the  robe  of  his  modest  and  graceful  muse.  How  amid 
all  that  love  of  inferior  company,  which  never  to  the  last  for- 
sook him,  did  he  keep  his  genius  so  free  from  every  touch  of 
vulgarity?" 

We  answer  that  it  was  owing  to  the  innate  purity  and  good- 
ness of  his  nature ;  there  was  nothing  in  it  that  assimilated  to 

*  Goldsmith's  Life  of  Nash. 


256  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

vice  and  vulgarity.  Though  his  circumstances  often  com- 
pelled him  to  associate  with  the  poor,  they  never  could  betray 
him  into  companionship  with  the  depraved.  His  relish  for 
humor  and  for  the  study  of  character,  as  we  have  before 
observed,  brought  him  often  into  convivial  company  of  a 
vulgar  kind;  but  he  discriminated  between  their  vulgarity 
and  their  amusing  qualities,  or  rather  wrought  from  the  whole 
those  familiar  features  of  life  which  form  the  staple  of  his 
most  popular  writings. 

Much,  too,  of  this  intact  purity  of  heart  may  be  ascribed  to 
the  lessons  of  his  infancy  under  the  paternal  roof;  to  the 
gentle,  benevolent,  elevated,  unworldly  maxims  of  his  father, 
who  "passing  rich  with  forty  pounds  a  year,"  infused  a  spirit 
into  his  child  which  riches  could  not  deprave  nor  poverty 
degrade.  Much  of  his  boyhood,  too,  had  been  passed  in  the 
household  of  his  uncle,  the  amiable  and  generous  Contarine ; 
where  he  talked  of  literature  with  the  good  pastor,  and  prac- 
tised music  with  his  daughter,  and  delighted  them  both  by  his 
juvenile  attempts  at  poetry.  These  early  associations  breathed 
a  grace  and  refinement  into  his  mind  and  tuned  it  up,  after 
the  rough  sports  on  the  green,  or  the  frolics  at  the  tavern. 
These  led  him  to  turn  from  the  roaring  glees  of  the  club,  to 
listen  to  the  harp  of  his  cousin  Jane;  and  from  the  rustic 
triumph  of  "throwing  sledge,"  to  a  stroll  with  his  flute  along 
the  pastoral  banks  of  the  Inny. 

The  gentle  spirit  of  his  father  walked  with  him  through  life, 
a  pure  and  virtuous  monitor ;  and  in  all  the  vicissitudes  of  his 
career  we  find  him  ever  more  chastened  in  mind  by  the  sweet 
and  holy  recollections  of  the  home  of  his  infancy. 

It  has  been  questioned  whether  he  really  had  any  religious 
feeling.  Those  who  raise  the  question  have  never  considered 
well  his  writings ;  his  Vicar  of  Wakefield,  and  his  pictures  of 
the  Village  Pastor,  present  religion  under  its  most  endearing 
forms,  and  with  a  feeling  that  could  only  flow  from  the  deep 
convictions  of  the  heart.  When  his  fair  travelling  companions 
at  Paris  urged  him  to  read  the  Church  Service  on  a  Sunday,  he 
replied  that  "he  was  not  worthy  to  do  it."  He  had  seen  in 
early  life  the  sacred  offices  performed  by  his  father  and  his 
brother,  with  a  solemnity  which  had  sanctified  them  in  his 
memory;  how  could  he  presume  to  undertake  such  functions? 
His  religion  has  been  called  in  question  by  Johnson  and  by 
BosAvell;  he  certainly  had  not  the  gloomy  hypochondriacal 
piety  of  the  one,  nor  the  babbling  mouth -piety  of  the  other; 


OLIVER  OOLDSMITU.  257 

but  the  spirit  of  Christian  charity  breathed  forth  in  his  writ- 
ings and  illustrated  in  his  conduct  give  us  reason  to  believe  he 
had  the  indwelling  religion  of  the  soul. 

We  have  made  sufficient  comments  in  the  preceding  chapters 
on  his  conduct  in  elevated  circles  of  literature  and  fashion. 
The  fairy  gifts  which  took  him  there,  were  not  accompanied  by 
the  gifts  and  graces  necessary  to  sustain  him  in  that  artificial 
sphere.  He  can  neither  play  the  learned  sage  with  Johnson, 
nor  the  fine  gentleman  with  Beauclerc,  though  he  has  a  mind 
replete  with  wisdom  and  natural  shrewdness,  and  a  spirit  free 
from  vulgarity.  The  blunders  of  a  fertile  but  hurried  intellect, 
and  the  awkward  display  of  the  student  assuming  the  man  of 
fashion,  fix  on  him  a  character  for  absurdity  and  vanity  which, 
like  the  charge  of  lunacy,  it  is  hard  to  disprove,  however  weak 
the  grounds  of  the  charge  and  strong  the  facts  in  opposition  to 
it. 

In  truth,  he  is  never  truly  in  his  place  in  these  learned  and 
fashionable  circles,  which  talk  and  five  for  display.  It  is  not 
the  kind  of  society  he  craves.  His  heart  yearns  for  domestic 
life ;  it  craves  familiar,  confiding  intercourse,  family  firesides, 
the  guileless  and  happy  company  of  children ;  these  bring  out 
the  heartiest  and  sweetest  sympathies  of  his  nature. 

"Had  it  been  his  fate,"  says  the  critic  we  have  already 
quoted,  "to  meet  a  woman  who  could  have  loved  him,  despite 
his  faults,  and  respected  him  despite  his  foibles,  we  cannot  but 
think  that  his  life  and  his  genius  would  have  been  much  more 
harmonious;  his  desultory  affectioDS  would  have  been  concen- 
tred, his  craving  self-love  appeased,  his  pursuits  more  settled, 
his  character  more  solid.  A  nature  like  Goldsmith's,  so  affec- 
tionate, so  confiding — so  susceptible  to  simple,  innocent  enjoy- 
ments— so  dependent  on  others  for  the  sunshine  of  existence, 
does  not  flower  if  deprived  of  the  atmosphere  of  home." 

The  cravings  of  his  heart  in  this  respect  are  evident,  we 
think,  throughout  his  career ;  and  if  we  have  dwelt  with  more 
significancy  than  others,  upon  his  intercourse  with  the  beauti- 
ful Horneck  family,  it  is  because  we  fancied  we  could  detect, 
amid  his  playful  attentions  to  one  of  its  members,  a  lurking 
sentiment  of  tenderness,  kept  down  by  conscious  poverty  and 
a  humiliating  idea  of  personal  defects.  A  hopeless  feeling  of 
this  kind — the  last  a  man  would  communicate  to  his  friends- 
might  account  for  much  of  that  fit  fulness  of  conduct,  and  that 
gathering  melancholy,  remarked,  but  not  comprehended  by 
his  associates,  during  the  last  year  or  two  of  his  life ;  and  may 


258  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

have  been  one  of  the  troubles  of  the  mind  which  aggravated 
his  last  illness,  and  only  terminated  with  his  death. 

We  shall  conclude  these  desultory  remarks  with  a  few  which 
have  been  used  by  us  on  a  former  occasion.  From  the  general 
tone  of  Goldsmith's  biography,  it  is  evident  that  his  faults,  at 
the  worst,  were  but  negative,  while  his  merits  were  great  and 
decided.  He  was  no  one's  enemy  but  his  own ;  his  errors,  in 
the  main,  inflicted  evil  on  none  but  himself,  and  were  so 
blended  with  humorous,  and  even  affecting  circumstances,  as 
to  disarm  anger  and  conciliate  kindness.  Where  eminent 
talent  is  united  to  spotless  virtue,  we  are  awed  and  dazzled 
into  admiration,  but  our  admiration  is  apt  to  be  cold  and  rever- 
ential ;  while  there  is  something  in  the  harmless  innrmities  of 
a  good  and  great,  but  erring  individual,  that  pleads  touchingly 
to  our  nature ;  and  we  turn  more  kindly  toward  the  object  of 
our  idolatry,  when  we  find  that,  like  ourselves,  he  is  mortal 
and  is  frail.  The  epithet  so  often  heard,  and  in  such  kindly 
tones,  of  "Poor  Goldsmith,"  speaks  volumes.  Few  who  con- 
sider the  real  compound  of  admirable  and  whimsical  qualities 
which  form  his  character,  would  wish  to  prune  away  its  eccen- 
tricities, trim  its  grotesque  luxiiriance,  and  clip  it  down  to  the 
decent  formalities  of  rigid  virtue.  ' '  Let  not  his  frailties  be 
remembered,"  said  Johnson;  "he  was  a  very  great  man." 
But,  for  our  part,  we  rather  say  "Let  them  be  remembered," 
since  their  tendency  is  to  endear ;  and  we  question  whether  he 
himself  would  not  feel  gratified  in  hearing  his  reader,  after 
dwelling  with  admiration  on  the  proofs  of  his  greatness,  close 
the  volume  with  the  kind-hearted  phrase,  so  fondly  and  fami- 
liarly ejaculated,  of  "Poor  Goldsmith." 


THE  END. 


MAHOMET 


ANI> 


HIS    SUCCESSORS. 


BY 


WASHINGTON     IRVING, 


PREFACE. 


Some  apology  may  seem  necessary  for  presenting  a  life  of  Ma- 
homet at  the  present  day,  when  no  new  fact  can  be  added  to 
those  already  known  concerning  him.  Many  years  since,  dur- 
ing a  residence  in  Madrid,  the  author  projected  a  series  of 
writings  illustrative  of  the  domination  of  the  Arabs  in  Spain. 
These  were  to  be  introduced  by  a  sketch  of  the  life  of  the  foun- 
der of  the  Islam  faith,  and  the  first  mover  of  Arabian  conquest. 
Most  of  the  particulars  for  this  were  drawn  from  Spanish 
sources,  and  from  Gagnier's  translation  of  the  Arabian  histo- 
rian Abulfeda,  a  copy  of  which  the  author  found  in  the  Jesuits' 
Library  of  the  Convent  of  St.  Isidro,  at  Madrid. 

Not  having  followed  out  in  its  extent,  the  literary  plan  de- 
vised, the  manuscript  life  lay  neglected  among  the  author's 
papers  until  the  year  1831,  when  he  revised  and  enlarged  it  for 
the  Family  Library  of  Mr.  John  Murray.  Circumstances  pre- 
vented its  publication  at  the  time,  and  it  again  was  thrown 
aside  for  years. 

During  his  last  residence  in  Spain,  the  author  beguiled  the 
tediousness  of  a  lingering  indisposition,  by  again  revising  the 
manuscript,  profiting  in  so  doing  by  recent  lights  thrown  on 
the  subject  by  different  writers,  and  particularly  by  Dr.  Gustav 
Weil,  the  very  intelligent  and  learned  librarian  of  the  Univer- 
sity of  Heidelberg,  to  whose  industrious  researches  and  able 
disquisitions,  he  acknowledges  himself  greatly  indebted.* 

Such  is  the  origin  of  the  work  now  given  to  the  public ;  on 
which  the  author  lays  no  claim  to  novelty  of  fact,  nor  profun- 
dity of  research.  It  still  bears  the  type  of  a  work  intended  for 
a  family  libraiy ;  in  constructing  which  the  whole  aim  of  the 

*  Mohammed  der  Prophet,  sein  Leberi  und  seine  Lehre.    Stuttgart.  1843. 


4  PREFACE. 

writer  has  been  to  digest  into  an  easy,  perspicuous,  and  flow- 
ing narrative,  the  admitted  facts  concerning  Mahomet,  together 
with  such  legends  and  traditions  as  have  been  wrought  into  the 
whole  system  of  oriental  literature ;  and  at  the  same  time  to 
give  such  a  summary  of  his  faith  as  might  be  sufficient  for  the 
more  general  reader.  Under  such  circumstances,  he  has  not 
thought  it  worth  while  to  incumber  his  pages  with  a  scaffolding 
of  references  and  citations,  nor  depart  from  the  old  English  no- 
menclature of  oriental  names. 

W.  I. 

SUNNYSIDE,   1849.  - 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 


CONTENTS. 


PART  I. 

PAQE 

Preface 3 

CHAPTER  I. 
Preliminary  notice  of  Arabia  and  the  Arabs 15 

CHAPTER  II. 
Birth  and  parentage  of  Mahomet.— His  infancy  and  childhood 25 

CHAPTER  IIL 
Traditions  concerning  Mecca  and  the  Caaba  .    29 

CHAPTER  IV. 
First  journey  of  Mahomet  with  the  caravan  to  Syria 32 

CHAPTER  V. 
Commercial  occupations  of  Mahomet.— His  marriage  with  Cadi jan 36 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Conduct  of  Mahomet  after  his  marriage. — Becomes  anxious  for  religious  re- 
form.—His  habits  of  solitary  abstraction.— The  vision  of  the  cave.— His 
annunciation  as  a  prophet 39 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Mahomet  inculcates  his  doctrines  secretly  and  slowly.— Receives  further 
revelations  and  commands. — Announces  it  to  his  kindred —Manner  in  which 
it  was  received.— Enthusiastic  devotion  of  Ali. — Christian  portents 44 

CHAPTER  VIH. 
Outlines  of  the  Mahometan  faith 48 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Ridicule  cast  on  Mahomet  and  his  doctrines.— Demand  for  miracles. — Conduct 
of  Abu  Taleb. — Violence  of  the  Koreishites. — Mahomet's  daughter  Rokaia, 
with  her  uncle  Otlniian  and  a  number  of  disciples,  take  refuge  in  Abyssinia. — 
Mahomet  in  the  house  of  Orkham. — Hostility  of  Abu  Jahl  ;  his  punishment. ..     54 


6  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  X. 

PAGE 

Omar  Ibn  al  Kattab,  nephew  of  Abu  JabJ,  undertakes  to  revenge  his  uncle  by- 
slaying  Mahomet.— His  wonderful  conversion  to  the  faith.— Mahomet  takes 
refuge  in  a  castle  of  Abu  Taleb. — Abu  Sofian,  at  the  head  of  the  rival  branch 
of  the  Koreisbites,  persecutes  Mahomet  and  his  followers.— Obtains  a  decree 
of  non-intercourse  with  them. — Mahomet  leaves  his  retreat  and  makes  con- 
verts during  the  month  of  pilgrimage. — Legend  of  the  conversion  of  Habib 
the  Wise 80 

CHAPTER  XI. 

The  ban  of  non-intercourse  mysteriously  destroyed.— Mahomet  enabled  to 
return  to  Mecca.— Death  of  Abu  Taleb  ;  of  Cadijah.— Mahomet  betroths  him- 
self to  Ayesha  — Marries  Sawda. — The  Koreisbites  renew  their  persecution. — 
Mahomet  seeks  an  asylum  in  Tayef.— His  expulsion  thence.— Visited  by  genii 
in  the  desert  of  Naklah 66 

CHAPTER  XII. 

Night  journey  of  the  prophet  from  Mecca  to  Jerusalem  ;  and  thence  to  the 
seventh  heaven 73 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

Mahomet  makes  converts  of  pilgrims  from  Medina.— Determines  to  fly  to  that 
city. — A  plot  to  slay  him.— His  miraculous  escape.— His  Hegira,  or  flight. — 
His  reception  at  Medina 80 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Moslems  in  Medina,  Mohadjerins  and  Ansarians.— The  party  of  Abdallah  Ibn 
Obba  and  the  Hypocrites.— Mahomet  builds  a  mosque  ;  preaches  ;  makes 
converts  among  the  Christians. — The  Jews  slow  to  believe. —  Brotherhood 
established  between  fugitives  and  allies  88 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Marriage  of  Mahomet  with  Ayesha.— Of  his  daughter  Fatima  with  Ali.— Their 
household  arrangements 93 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

The  sword  announced  as  the  instrument  of  faith.— First  foray  against  the 
Koreisbites.— Surprisal  of  a  caravan 95 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
The  battle  of  Beder 99 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Death  of  the  prophet's  daughter  Rokaia.— Restoration  of  his  daughter  Zeinab. 
—Effect  of  the  prophet's  malediction  on  Abu  Lahab  and  his  family.— Frantic 
rage  of  Henda,  the  wife  of  Abu  Sofian.— Mahomet  narrowly  escapes  assassina- 
tion.—Embassy  of  the  Koreishites.— The  King  of  Abyssinia 100 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

Growing  power  of  Mahomet.— His  resentment  against  the  Jews— Insult  to  an 
Arab  damsel  by  the  Jewish  tribe  of  Kainoka.— A  tumult.— The  Beni  Kainoka 


VONTKNTS.  7 

PAGE 

takes  refuge  in  their  castle.— Subdued  and  punished  by  confiscation  and 
banishment.— Marriage  of  Othraan  to  the  prophet's  daughter  Omm  Kalthum, 
and  of  the  prophet  to  Haf za 109 

CHAPTER  XX. 

Henda  incites  Abu  Sofian  and  the  Koreishites  to  revenge  the  death  of  her 
relations  slain  in  the  battle  of  Beder.— The  Koreishites  sally  forth,  followed 
by  Henda  and  her  female  companions.— Battle  of  Ohod.— Ferocious  triumph 
<>f  Henda.— Mahomet  consoles  himself  by  marrying  Hend,  the  daughter  of 
Omeya  112 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

Treachery  of  certain  Jewish  tribes;  their  punishment.  —  Devotion  of  the 
prophet's  freedman  Zeid  ;  divorces  his  beautiful  wife  Zeinab,  that  she  may 
become  the  wife  of  the  prophet 117 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

Expedition  of  Mahomet  against  the  Beni  Mostalek.— He  espouses  Barra,  a  cap- 
tive.—Treachery  of  Abdallah  Ibn  Obba.— Ayesha  slandered.— Her  vindication. 
—Her  innocence  proved  by  a  i  evelation 120 

CHAPTER  XXHI. 

The  battle  of  the  Moat.— Bravery  of  Saad  Ibn  Moad.— Defeat  of  the  Koreishites. 
—Capture  of  the  Jewish  castle  of  Coraida.— Saad  decides  as  to  the  punishment 
of  the  Jews.— Mahomet  espouses  Rehana,  a  Jewish  captive.  —His  life  endan- 
gered by  sorcery  ;  saved  by  a  revelation  of  the  angel  Gabriel 124 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Mahomet  undertakes  a  pilgrimage  to  Mecca.— Evades  Khaled  and  a  troop  of 
horse  sent  against  him. — Encamps  near  Mecca. — Negotiates  with  the  Koreish- 
ites for  permission  to  enter  and  complete  his  pilgrimage. — Treaty  for  ten 
years,  by  which  he  is  permitted  to  make  a  yearly  visit  of  ihree  days. — He  re- 
turns to  Medina  • 130 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

Expedition  against  the  city  of  Khaibar ;  siege.— Exploits  of  Mahomet's  cap- 
tains.—Battle  of  Ali  and  Marhab.— Storming  of  the  citadel.— Ali  makes,  a 
buckler  of  the  gate.— Capture  of  the  place.— Mahomet  poisoned ;  he  marries 
Safiya,  a  captive ;  also  Omm  Habiba,  a  widow „ 133 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

Missions  to  various  princes;  to  Heraclius;  to  Khosru  II.;  to  the  Prefect  of 
Egypt.— Their  result 138 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Mahomet's  pilgrimage  to  Mecca;  his  marriage  with  Maimuna. — Khaled  Ibn  al 
Waled  and  Amru  Ibn  al  Aass  become  proselytes  140 

CHAPTER  XXVHI. 

A  Moslem  envoy  slain  in  Syria.— Expedition  to  avenge  his  death.— Battle  of 
Muta.— Its  results • 142 


8  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

PASS 
Designs  upon  Mecca.— Mission  of  Abu  Sofian.— Its  result 145 

CHAPTER  XXX. 
Surprise  and  capture  of  Mecca. 147 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 

Hostilities  in  the  mountains.— Enemy's  camp  in  the  valley  of  Autas. — Battle  at 
the  pass  of  Honein. — Capture  of  the  enemy's  camp. — Interview  of  Mahomet 
with  the  nurse  of  his  childhood. — Division  of  spoil. — Mahomet  at  his  mother's 
grave. 157 

CHAPTER  XXXII. 

Death  of  the  prophet's  daughter  Zeinab. — Birth  of  his  son  Ibrahim.— Deputa- 
tions from  distant  tribes. —  Poetical  contest  in  presence  of  the  prophet. — 
His  susceptibility  to  the  charms  of  poetry. — Reduction  of  the  city  of  Tayef  ; 
destruction  of  its  idols  — Negotiation  with  Amir  Ibn  Tafiel,  a  proud  Bedouin 
chief  ;  independent  spirit  of  the  latter. — Interview  of  Adi,  another  chief,  with 
Mahomet  164 

CHAPTER  XYXTTT. 

Preparations  for  an  expedition  against  Syria. — Intrigues  of  Abdallah  Ton  Obba. 
— Contributions  of  the  faithful. — March  of  the  army. — The  accursed  region  of 
Ha  jar. — Encampment  at  Tabuc. — Subjugation  of  the  neighboring  provinces. 
— Khaled  surprises  Okaidor  and  his  castle.— Return  of  the  army  to  Medina.. . .  170 

CHAPTER  XXXTV. 

Triumphal  entry  into  Medina. — Punishment  of  those  who  had  refused  to  join 
the  campaign. — Effects  of  ex  ommunication. — Death  of  Abdallah  Ibn  Obba. — 
Dissensions  in  the  prophet's  harem 175 

CHAPTER  XXXV. 

Abu  Beker  conducts  the  yearly  pilgrimage  to  Mecca. — Mission  of  .Ali  to  an- 
nounce a  revelation  178 

CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

Mahomet  sends  his  captains  on  distant  enterprises.— Appoints  lieutenants  to 
govern  in  Arabia  Felix. — Sends  Ali  to  suppress  an  insurrection  in  that  pro- 
vince.— Death  of  the  prophet's  only  son  Ibrahim. — His  conduct  at  the  death- 
bed and  the  grave. — His  growing  infirmities. — His  valedictory  pilgrimage  to 
Mecca,  and  his  conduct  and  preaching  while  there 180 

CHAPTER  XXXVII. 
Of  the  two  false  prophets  Al  Aswad  and  Mosellma 185 

CHAPTER  XXXVHI. 

An  army  prepared  to  march  against  Syria.— Command  given  to  Osama.— The 
prophet's  farewell  address  to  the  troops. — His  last  illness. — His  sermons  in  the 
mosque. — His  death  and  the  attending  circumstances. 1S8 


CONTENTS.  9 

CHATTER  XXXIX. 

PAGS 

Person  and  character  of  Mahomet,  and  speculations  on  his  prophetic  career  . . .  195 

APPENDIX. 
Of  the  Islam  Faith.... 2W 


PART  II. 
Preface 


CHAPTER  I. 
Election  of  Abu  Beker,  first  Caliph,  Hegira  11th,  a.d.  632 221 

CHAPTER  II. 

Moderation  of  Abu  Beker.— Traits  of  his  character.— Rebellion  of  Arab  tribes. — 
Defeat  and  death  of  Malec  Ibn  Nowirah. — Harsh  measures  of  Khaled  con- 
demned by  Omar,  but  excused  by  Abu  Beker. — Khaled  defeats  Moseilma  the 
false  prophet. — Compilation  of  the  Koran 228 

CHAPTER  III. 

Campaign  against  Syria. — Army  sent  under  Yezed  Ibn  Abu  Sofian.—  Successes. 
— Another  army  under  Amru  Ibn  al  Aass. — Brilliant  achievements  of  Khaled 
in  Irak 232 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Incompetency  of  Abu  Obeidab  to  the  general  command  in  Syria  —Khaled  sent 
to  supersede  him. — Peril  of  the  Moslem  army  before  Bosra. — Timely  arrival 
of  Khaled.— His  exploits  during  the  siege.— Capture  of  Bosra 238 

CHAPTER  V. 
Khaled  lays  siege  to  Damascus 213 

CHAPTER  VI. 
Siege  of  Damascus  continued— Exploits  of    Derar.— Defeat  of  the  imperial 


army 


ilT 


CHAPTER  VII. 
Siege  of  Damascus  continued.— Sally  of  the  garrison.— Heroism  of  the  Moslem 
women 250 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
Battle  of  Aiznadin 253 

CHAPTER  IX. 
Occurrences  before  Damascus.— Exploits  of  Thomas.— Aban  Ibn  /.eid  and  his 
Amazonian  wife • '-^9 


10  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  X. 

PAGE 

Surrender  of  Damascus. — Disputes  of  the  Saracen  generals.— Departure  of 
Thomas  and  the  exiles 2 

CHAPTER  XL 

Story  of  Jonas  and  Eudocea. — Pursuit  of  the  exiles. — Death  of  the  Caliph  Abu 
Beker gC7 

CHAPTER  XH. 

Election  of  Omar,  second  Caliph.—  Kha'.ed  superseded  in  command  by  Abu 
Obeidah. — Magnanimous  conduct  of  those  generals.— Expedition  to  the  con- 
vent of  Abyla 275 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
Moderate  measures  of  Abu  Obeidah.— Reproved  by  the  Caliph  for  his  slowness.  282 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
Siege  and  capture  of  Baalbec 286 

CHAPTER  XT. 

-  »e  of  Emessa.— Stratagems  of  the  Moslems.— Fanatic  devotion  of  Ikremah. 
—Surrender  of  the  city 200 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

Advance  of  a  powerful  Imperial  army— Skirmishes  of  Khaled. — Capture  of 
Derar. — Interview  of  Khaled  and  Manuel 294 

CHAPTER  XTIL 
The  battii  of  Yermouk 298 

CHAPTER  xvm. 
Siege  and  capture  of  Jerusalem 300 

CHATTER  XIX. 

Progress  of  the  Moslem  arms  in  Syria.— Siege  of  Aleppo.— Obstinate  defence  by 
Youkenna.— Exploit  of  Damas.— Capture  of  the  castle.— Conversion  of  You- 
kenna 

CHAPTER  XX 

Perfidy  of  Youkenna  to  his  former  friends.— Attempts  the  castle  of  Aazaz  by 
treachery. — Capture  of  the  castle 314 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

Intrigues  of  Youkenna  at  Antioch.— Siege  of  that  city  by  the  Moslems.— Flight 
of  the  emperor  to  Constantinople.— Surrender  of  Antioch 317 

CHAPTER  XXH. 
Expedition  into  the  mountains  of  Syria. — Story  of  a  miraculous  cap  333 


CONTENTS.  11 

CHAPTER  XXHI. 

PAGE 

Expedition  of  Amru  Ibn  al  Aass  against  Prince  Constantine  in  Syria.— Their 
conference.— Capture  of  Tripoli  and  Tyre.— Flight  of  Constantine.— Death  of 
Khaled 325 

CHAPTER  XXTV. 

Invasion  of  Egypt  by  Amru.— Capture  of  Memphis.— Siege  and  surrender  of 
Alexandria.— Burning  of  the  Alexandrian  library 3o3 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

Enterprises  of  the  Moslems  in  Persia.— Defence  of  the  kingdom  by  Queen  Arze- 
mia.— Battle  of  the  Bridge 341 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

Mosenna  Ibn  Haris  ravages  the  country  along  the  Euphrates.— Death  of 
Arzemia. — Yezdegird  HI.  raised  to  the  throne. — Saad  Ibn  Abu  Wakkas  given 
the  general  command. — Death  of  Mosenna. — Embassy  to  Yezdegird.— Its 
reception 3J5 

CHAPTER  XXVH. 
The  battle  of  Kadesia 330 

CHAPTER  XXV  ILL 

Founding  of  Bassora.— Capture  of  the  Persian  capital.— Flight  of  Yezdegird  to 
Holwan 353 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

Capture  of  Jalula.— Flight  of  Yezdegird  to  Rei.— Founding  of  Cufa. — Saad 
receives  a  severe  rebuke  from  the  Caliph  for  his  magnificence 357 

CHAPTER  XXX. 
War  with  Hormuzan.  the  Satrap  of  Ahwaz.— His  conquest  and  conversion 360 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 

Saad  suspended  from  the  command. — A  Persian  army  assembled  at  Nehavend. 
— Council  at  the  mosque  of  Medina. — Battle  of  Nehavend 363 

CHAPTER  XXXn. 

Capture  of  Hamadan:  of  Rei.— Subjugation  of  Tabaristan:  of  Azerbijan.— Cam- 
paign among  the  Caucasian  mountains 367 

CHAPTER  XXXm. 

The  Caliph  Omar  assassinated  by  a  fire-worshipper. — His  character.— Othman 
elected  Calip h 372 

CHAPTER  XXXIV. 
Conclusion  of  the  Persian  conquest.— Flight  and  death  of  Yezdegird  377 


12  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XXXV. 

PAGE 

Amru  displaced  from  the  government  of  Egypt.  —Revolt  of  the  inhabitants.— 
Alexandria  retaken  by  the  Imperialists.— Amru  reinstated  in  command.— Re- 
takes Alexandria,  and  tranquillizes  Egypt.— Is  again  displaced.— Abdallah  Ibn 
Saad  invades  the  north  of  Africa 380 

CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

Moawyah,  Emir  of  Syria.— His  naval  victories.— Othman  loses  the  prophet's 
ring.— Suppresses  erroneous  copies  of  the  Koran.— Conspiracies  against  him. 
—His  death 386 

CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

Candidates  for  the  Caliphat.— Inaguration  of  Ali,  fourth  Caliph.— He  under- 
takes measures  of  reform.— Their  consequences.— Conspiracy  of  Ayesha.— 
She  gets  possession  of  Bassora 393 

CHAPTER  XXXVHI. 
Ali  defeats  the  rebels  under  Ayesha.— His  treatment  of  her 401 

CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

Battles  between  Ali  and  Moawyah.— Their  claims  to  the  Caliphat  left  to  arbitra- 
tion ;  the  result.— Decline  of  the  power  of  Ali.— Loss  of  Egypt 408 

CHAPTER  XL. 
Preparations  of  Ali  for  the  invasion  of  Syria.— His  assassination 413 

CHAPTER  XLI. 
Succession  of  Hassan,  fifth  Caliph.— He  abdicates  in  favor  of  Moawyah 416 

CHAPTER  XLII. 

Reign  of  Moawyah  I.,  sixth  Caliph.— Account  of  his  illegitimate  brother  Zeyad. 
—Death  of  Amru 419 

CHAPTER  XLIII. 
Siege  of  Constantinople.— Truce  with  the  emperor.— Murder  of  Hassan.— Death 
of  Ayesha 423 

CHAPTER  XLIV. 
Moslem  conquests  in  Northern  Africa.— Achievements  of  Acbah  ;  his  death. ...  426 

CHAPTER  XLV. 
Moawyah  names  his  successor.— His  last  acts  and  death.— Traits  of  his  char- 
acter   430 

CHAPTER  XLVI. 
Succession  of  Yezid,  seventh  Caliph.— Final  fortunes  of  Hosein,  the  son  of  Ali. .  434 

CHAPTER  XLVII. 

Insurrection  of  Abdallah  Ibn  Zobeir.— Medina  taken  and  sacked.— Mecca 
besieged.— Death  of  Yezid 444 


CONTENTS.  13 

CHAPTER  XLVin. 

PAGE 

Inauguration  of  Moawyah  EL,  eighth  Caliph.— His  abdication  and  death.—  Mer- 
wau  Ibu  Hakem  and  Abdallah  Ibn  Zobeir,  rival  Caliphs.— Civil  wars  in  Syria.  447 

CHAPTER  XLIX. 

State  of  affairs  in  Khorassan.— Conspiracy  at  Cufa.—  Faction  of  the  Penitents; 
their  fortunes.— Death  of  the  Caliph  Merwan 451 

CHAPTER  L. 

Inauguration  of  Abd'almalec,  the  eleventh  Caliph.— Story  of  Al  Moktar,  the 
Avenger 454 

CHAPTER  LI. 

Musab  Ibn  Zobeir  takes  possession  of  Babylonia.— Usurpation  of  Amru  Ibn 
Saad;  his  death.— Expedition  of  Abd'almalec  against  Musab.— The  result.— 
Omens;  their  effect  upon  Abd'almalec— Exploits  of  Al  Mohalleb  461 

CHAPTER  LH. 

Abd'almalec  makes  war  upon  his  rival  Caliph  in  Mecca.— Siege  of  the  sacred 
city.— Death  of  Abdallah.— Demolition  and  reconstruction  of  the  Caaba 465 

CHAPTER  LHI. 
Administration  of  Al  Hejagi  as  emir  of  Babylonia 470 

CHAPTER  LIV. 

Renunciation  of  tribute  to  the  emperor.— Battles  in  Northern  Africa.— The 
prophet  queen  Cahina;  her  achievements  and  fate 478 

CHAPTER  LV. 

Musa  Ibn  Nosseyr  made  emir  of  Northern  Africa.— His  campaigns  against  the 
Berbers 482 

CHAPTER  LVI. 

Naval  enterprises  of  Musa  — Cruisings  of  his  son  Abdolola.— Death  of  Abd'al- 
malec    487 

CHAPTER  LVII. 

Inauguration  of  Waled,  twelfth  Caliph.— Revival  of  the  arts  under  his  reign.— 
His  taste  for  architecture. — Erection  of  mosques.— Conquests  of  his  generals.  490 

CHAPTER  LVIH. 

Further  triumphs  of  Musa  Ibn  Nosseyr. — Naval  en terprises.—  Descents  in  Sicily. 
Sardinia  and  Mallorca.— Invasion  of  Tingitauia  —Projects  for  the  invasion  of 
Spaio.— Conclusion 49t 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

PRELIMINARY  NOTICE  OP  ARABIA  AND  THE  ARABS. 

During  a  long  succession  of  ages,  extending  from  the  earliest 
period  of  recorded  history  down  to  the  seventh  century  of  the 
Christian  era,  that  great  chersonese  or  peninsula  formed  by 
the  Red  Sea,  the  Euphrates,  the  Gulf  of  Persia,  and  the  Indian 
Ocean,  and  known  by  the  name  of  Arabia,  remained  unchanged 
and  almost  unaffected  by  the  events  which  convulsed  the  rest 
of  Asia,  and  shook  Europe  and  Africa  to  their  centre.  While 
kingdoms  and  empires  rose  and  fell ;  while  ancient  dynasties 
passed  away;  while  the  boundaries  and  names  of  countries 
were  changed,  and  their  inhabitants  were  exterminated  or 
carried  into  captivity,  Arabia,  though  its  frontier  provinces 
experienced  some  vicissitudes,  preserved  in  the  depths  of  its 
deserts  its  primitive  character  and  independence,  nor  had  its 
nomadic  tribes  ever  bent  their  haughty  necks  to  servitude. 

The  Arabs  carry  back  the  traditions  of  their  country  to  the 
highest  antiquity.  It  was  peopled,  they  say,  soon  after  the 
deluge,  by  the  progeny  of  Shem,  the  son  of  Noah,  who  gradu- 
ally formed  themselves  into  several  tribes,  the  most  noted  of 
which  are  the  Adites  and  Thamudites.  All  these  primitive 
tribes  are  said  to  have  been  either  swept  from  the  earth  in 
punishment  of  their  iniquities,  or  obliterated  in  subsequent 
modifications  of  the  races,  so  that  little  remains  concerning 
them  but  shadowy  traditions  and  a  few  passages  in  the  Koran. 
They  are  occasionally  mentioned  in  oriental  history  as  the 
"old  primitive  Arabians"— the  "lost  tribes." 

The  primitive  population  of  the  peninsula  is  ascribed,  by 
the  same  authorities,  to  Kahtan  or  Joctan,  a  descendant  in  the 
foui'th  generation  from  Shem.     His  posterity  spread  over  the 


16  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

southern  part  of  the  peninsula  and  along  the  Red  Sea.  Yarab, 
one  of  his  sons,  founded  the  kingdom  of  Yemen,  where  the  ter- 
ritory of  Araba  was  called  after  him ;  whence  the  Arabs  derive 
the  names  of  themselves  and  their  country.  Jurham,  another 
son,  founded  the  kingdom  of  Hedjaz,  over  which  his  descend- 
ants bore  sway  for  many  generations.  Among  these  people 
Hagar  and  her  son  Ishmael  were  kindly  received,  when  exiled 
from  their  home  by  the  patriarch  Abraham.  In  the  process  of 
time  Ishmael  married  the  daughter  of  Modad,  a  reigning  prince 
of  the  line  of  Jurham ;  and  thus  a  stranger  and  a  Hebrew  be- 
came grafted  on  the  original  Arabian  stock.  It  proved  a  vigor- 
ous graft.  Ishmael's  wife  bore  him  twelve  sons,  who  acquired 
dominion  over  the  country,  and  whose  prolific  race,  divided 
into  twelve  tribes,  expelled  or  overran  and  obliterated  the 
primitive  stock  of  Joctan. 

Such  is  the  account  given  by  the  peninsular  Arabs  of  their 
origin ;  *  and  Christian  writers  cite  it  as  containing  the  fulfil- 
ment of  the  covenant  of  God  with  Abraham,  as  recorded  in 
Holy  Writ.  ' '  And  Abraham  said  unto  God,  O  that  Ishmael 
might  live  before  thee !  And  God  said,  As  for  Ishmael,  I  have 
heard  thee.  Behold,  I  have  blessed  him,  and  will  make  him 
fruitful,  and  will  multiply  him  exceedingly:  twelve  princes 
shall  he  beget,  and  I  will  make  him  a  great  nation"  (Genesis  17: 
18,  20). 

These  twelve  princes  with  their  tribes  are  further  spoken  of 
in  the  Scriptures  (Genesis  25  :  18)  as  occupying  the  country 
"from  Havilah  unto  Shur,  that  is  before  Egypt,  as  thou  goest 
toward  Assyria ;"  a  region  identified  by  sacred  geographers  with 
part  of  Arabia.  The  description  of  them  agrees  with  that  of 
the  Arabs  of  the  present  day.  Some  are  mentioned  as  holding 
towns  and  castles,  others  as  dwelling  in  tents,  or  having  villages 
in  iho  wilderness.  Nebaioth  and  Xedar,  the  two  first-born  of 
Ishmael,  are  most  noted  among  the  princes  for  their  wealth  in 
flocks  and  herds,  and  for  the  fine  wool  of  their  sheep.  From 
Nebaioth  came  the  Nabathai  who  inhabited  Stony  Arabia; 


*  Besides  the  Arabs  of  the  peninsula,  who  were  all  of  the  Shemitic  race,  there  were 
others  called  Cushites,  being  descended  from  Cush  the  son  of  Ham.  They  inhabited 
the  banks  of  the  Euphrates  and  the  Persian  Gulf.  The  name  of  Cush  is  often  giver. 
in  Scripture  to  the  Arabs  generally  as  well  as  to  their  country.  It  must  be  the 
Arabs  of  this  race  who  at  present  roam  the  deserted  regions  of  ancient  Assyria,  and 
have  been  employed  recently  in  disinterring  the  long-buried  ruins  of  Nineveh.  They 
are  sometimes  distinguished  as  the  Syro-Arabians.  The  present  work  relates  only 
to  the  Arabs  of  the  peninsula,  or  Arabia  Proper. 


PRELIMINARY  NOTICE  OF  ARABIA.  17 

while  the  name  of  Kedar  is  occasionally  given  in  Holy  Writ  to 
designate  the  whole  Arabian  nation.  "Woe  is  me/'  says  the 
Psalmist,  ''that  I  sojourn  in  Mesech,  that  I  dwell  in  the  tents 
of  Kedar. "  Both  appear  to  have  been  the  progenitors  of  the 
wandering  or  pastoral  Arabs;  the  free  rovers  of  the  desert. 
"The  wealthy  nation,"  says  the  prophet  Jeremiah,  "that 
dwelleth  without  care;  which  have  neither  gates  nor  bars, 
which  dwell  alone." 

A  strong  distinction  grew  up  in  the  earliest  times  between 
the  Arabs  who  "held  towns  and  castles,"  and  those  who 
"dwelt  in  tents."  Some  of  the  former  occupied  the  fertile 
wadies,  or  valleys,  scattered  here  and  there  among  the  moun- 
tains, where  these  towns  and  castles  were  surrounded  by  vine- 
yards and  orchards,  groves  of  palm-trees,  fields  of  grain,  and 
well-stocked  pastures.  They  were  settled  in  their  habits,  de- 
voting themselves  to  the  cultivation  of  the  soil  and  the  breed- 
ing of  cattle. 

Others  of  this  class  gave  themselves  up  to  commerce,  having 
ports  and  cities  along  the  Red  Sea ;  the  southern  shores  of  the 
peninsula  and  the  Gulf  of  Persia,  and  carrying  on  foreign  trade 
by  means  of  ships  and  caravans.  Such  especially  were  the 
people  of  Yemen,  or  Arabia  the  Happy,  that  land  of  spices, 
perfumes,  and  frankincense;  the  Sabsea  of  the.  poets;  the 
Sheba  of  the  sacred  Scriptures.  They  were  among  the  most 
active  mercantile  navigators  of  the  eastern  seas.  Their  ships 
brought  to  their  shores  the  myrrh  and  balsams  of  the  opposite 
coast  of  Bcrbera,  with  the  gold,  the  spices,  and  other  rich  com- 
modities of  India  and  tropical  Africa.  These,  with  the  prod- 
ucts of  their  own  country,  were  transported  by  caravans  across 
the  deserts  to  the  semi-Arabian  states  of  Ammon,  Moab,  and 
Edom  or  Idumea  to  the  Phoenician  ports  of  the  Mediterranean, 
and  thence  distributed  to  the  western  world. 

The  camel  has  been  termed  the  ship  of  the  desert ;  the  cara- 
van may  be  termed  its  fleet.  The  caravans  of  Yemen  were 
generally  fitted  out,  manned,  conducted,  and  guarded  by  the 
nomadic  Arabs,  the  dwellers  in  tents,  who,  in  this  respect, 
might  be  called  the  navigators  of  the  desert.  They  furnished 
the  innumerable  camels  required,  and  also  contributed  to  the 
freight  by  the  fine  fleeces  of  their  countless  flocks.  The  writ- 
ings of  the  prophets  show  the  importance,  in  scriptural  times, 
of  this  inland  chain  of  commerce  by  which  the  rich  countries 
of  the  south,  India,  Ethiopia,  and  Arabia  the  Happy,  were 
linked  with  ancient  Syria. 


18  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

Ezokicl,  in  his  lamentations  for  Tyre,  exclaims,  "Arabia, 
and  all  the  princes  of  Kedar,  they  occupied  with  thee  in  lambs, 
and  rams,  and  goats ;  in  these  were  they  thy  merchants.  The 
merchants  of  Sheba  and  Eaamah  occupied  in  thy  fairs  with 
chief  of  all  spices,  and  with  all  precious  stones  and  gold. 
Haran,  and  Canneh,  and  Eden,*  the  merchants  of  Sheba,  As- 
shur,  and  Chelmad,  were  thy  merchants."  .And  Isaiah,  speak- 
ing to  Jerusalem,  says :  ' '  The  midtitude  of  camels  shall  cover 
thee;  the  dromedaries  of  Midian  and  Ephah;  all  they  from 
Sheba  shall  come ;  they  shall  bring  gold  and  incense. 
All  the  flocks  of  Kedar  shall  be  gathered  together  unto  thee ; 
the  rams  of  Nebaioth  shall  minister  unto  thee"  (Isaiah  CO:  6,  7). 

The  agricultural  and  trading  Arabs,  however,  the  dwellers 
in  towns  and  cities,  have  never  been  considered  the  true  type 
of  the  race.  They  became  softened  by  settled  and  peaceful 
occupations,  and  lost  much  of  their  original  starnp  by  an  inter- 
course with  strangers.  Yemen,  too,  being  more  accessible 
than  the  other  parts  of  Arabia,  and  offering  greater  temptation 
to  the  spoiler,  had  been  repeatedly  invaded  and  subdued. 

It  was  among  the  other  class  of  Arabs,  the  rovers  of  the  desert, 
the  "dwellers  in  tents,"  by  far  the  most  numerous  of  the  two, 
that  the  national  character  was  preserved  in  all  its  primitive 
force  and  freshness.  Nomadic  in  their  habits,  pastoral  in  their 
occupations,  and  acquainted  by  experience  and  tradition  with 
all  the  hidden  resources  of  the  desert,  they  led  a  wandering 
life,  roaming  from  place  to  place  in  quest  of  those  wells  and 
springs  which  had  been  the  resort  of  their  forefathers  since  the 
days  of  the  patriarchs;  encamping  wherever  they  could  find 
date-trees  for  shade,  and  sustenance  and  pasturage  for  their 
flocks,  and  herds,  and  camels ;  and  shifting  their  abode  when- 
ever the  temporary  supply  was  exhausted. 

These  nomadic  Arabs  were  divided  and  subdivided  into 
innumerable  petty  tribes  or  families,  each  with  its  Sheikh  or 
Emir,  the  representative  of  the  patriarch  of  yore,  whoso  spear, 
planted  beside  his  tent,  was  the  ensign  of  command.  His 
office,  however,  though  continued  for  many  generations  in  the 
same  family,  was  not  strictly  hereditary,  but  depended  upon 
the  good- will  of  the  tribe.  He  might  be  deposed,  and  another 
of  a  different  line  elected  in  his  place.  His  power,  too,  was 
limited,  and  depended  upon  his  personal  merit  and  the  confi- 
dence reposed  in  him.     His  prerogative  consisted  in  conducting 

*  Haran,  Canna,  and  Aden,  ports  on  the  Indian  Sea. 


PRELIMINARY  NOTICE  Of  ARABIA.  19 

negotiations  of  peace  and  war;  in  leading  his  tribe  against  (he 
enemy;  in  choosing  tne  place  of  encampment,  and  in  receiving 
and  entertaining  strangers  of  note.  Yet,  even  ha  these  aiid 
similar  privileges,  he  was  controlled  by  the  opinions  and  incli- 
nations of  his  people.* 

However  numerous  and  minute  might  be  the  divisions  of  a 
tribe,  the  links  of  affinity  were  carefully  kept  in  mind  by  the 
several  sections.  All  the  Sheikhs  of  the  same  tribe  acknowl- 
edge a  common  chief  called  the  Sheikh  of  Sheikhs,  who, 
whether  ensconced  in  a  rock-built  castle,  or  encamped  amid  his 
flocks  and  herds  in  the  desert,  might  assemble  under  his 
standard  all  the  scattered  branches  on  any  emergency  affect- 
ing the  common  weal. 

The  multiplicity  of  these  wandering  tribes,  each  with  its 
petty  prince  and  petty  territory,  but  without  a  national  head, 
produced  frequent  collisions.  Revenge,  too,  was  almost  a 
religious  principle  among  them.  To  avenge  a  relative  slain 
was  the  duty  of  his  family,  and  often  involved  the  honor  of 


*  In  summer  the  wandering  Arabs,  says  Burckhardt.  seldom  remain  above  three 
or  four  days  on  the  same  spot:  as  soon  as  their  cattle  have  consumed  the  herbage 
near  a  watering  place,  the  tribe  removes  in  search  of  pasture,  and  the  grass  again 
springing  up,  serves  for  a  succeeding  camp.  The  encampments  vary  in  the 
number  of  tents,  from  six  to  eight  hundred;  when  the  tents  are  but  few,  they  are 
pitched  in  a  circle;  but  more  considerable  numbers  in  a  straight  line,  or  a  row  of 
single  tents,  especially  along  a  rivulet,  sometimes  three  or  four  behind  as  many 
others.  In  winter,  when  water  and  pasture  never  fail,  the  whole  tribe  spreads  itself 
over  the  plain  in  parties  of  three  or  four  tents;  each,  with  an  interval  of  half  an 
hour's  distance  between  each  party.  The  Sheikh's  tent  is  always  on  the  side  on 
which  enemies  or  guests  may  be  expected.  To  oppose  the  former  and  to  honor  the 
latter,  is  the  Sheikh's  principal  business.  Every  father  of  a  family  sticks  his  lance 
into  the  ground  by  the  side  of  his  tent,  and  ties  his  horse  in  front.  There  also  his 
camels  repose  at  night. — Burckhardt,  Notes  on  Bedouins,  vol.  i.  p.  33. 

The  following  is  desariptive  of  the  Arabs  of  Assyria,  though  it  is  applicable,  in  a 
great  degree,  to  the  whole  race  : 

"It  would  be  difficult  to  describe  the  appearance  of  a  large  tribe  when  migrating 
to  new  pastures.  We  soon  found  ourselves  in  the  midst  of  wide-spreading  flocks  of 
sheep  and  camels.  As  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  to  the  right,  to  the  left,  and  in 
front,  still  the  same  moving  crowd.  Long  lines  of  asses  and  bullocks,  laden  with 
black  tents,  huge  caldrons,  and  variegated  carpets;  aged  women  and  men,  no 
longer  able  to  walk,  tied  on  the  heap  of  domestic  furniture:  infants  crammed  into 
saddlebags,  their  tiny  heads  thrust  through  the  narrow  opening,  balanced  on  the 
animal's  back  by  kids  or  lambs  tied  on  the  opposite  side;  young  girls  clothed  only 
in  the  close-fitting  Arab  shirt  which  displayed  rather  than  concealed  their  graceful 
forms;  mothers  with  their  children  on  their  shoulders;  boys  drivirfg  flocks  of  lambs; 
horsemen  armed  with  their  long  tufted  spears,  scouring  the  plain  on  their  fleet 
mares:  riders  urging  their  dromedaries  with  their  short  hooked  sticks,  and  leading 
their  high-bred  steeds  by  the  halter;  colts  galloping  among  the  throng— such  was 
the  motley  crowd  through  which  we  had  to  wend  our  way."— Layard's  Nineveh,  i.  I. 


20  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

his  tribe  ;  and  these  debts  of  blood  sometimes  remained  un- 
settled for  generations,  producing  deadly  feuds. 

The  necessity  of  being  always  on  the  alert  to  defend  his 
flocks  and  herds  made  the  Arab  of  the  desert  familiar  from 
his  infancy  with  the  exercise  of  arms.  None  could  excel  him 
in  the  use  of  the  bow,  the  lance,  and  the  scimitar,  and  the 
adroit  and  graceful  management  of  the  horse.  He  was  a  pre- 
datory warrior  also  ;  for  though  at  times  he  was  engaged  in 
the  service  of  the  merchant,  furnishing  him  with  camels  and 
guides  and  drivers  for  the  transportation  of  his  merchandise, 
he  was  more  apt  to  lay  contributions  on  the  caravan  or  plun- 
der it  outright  in  its  toilful  progress  through  the  desert.  All 
this  he  regarded  as  a  legitimate  exercise  of  arms  ;  looking 
down  upon  the  gainful  sons  of  traffic  as  an  inferior  race,  de- 
based by  sordid  habits  and  pursuits. 

Such  was  the  Arab  of  the  desert,  the  dweller  in  tents,  in 
whom  was  fulfilled  the  prophetic  destiny  of  his  ancestor  Ish- 
mael :  "He  will  be  a  wild  man  ;  his  hand  will  be  against  every 
man,  and  every  man's  hand  against  him."  *  Nature  had  fitted 
him  for  his  destiny.  His  form  was  light  and  meagre,  but 
sinewy  and  active,  and  capable  of  sustaining  great  fatigue  and 
hardship.  He  was  temperate  and  even  abstemious,  requiring 
but  little  food,  and  that  of  the  simplest  kind.  His  mind,  like 
his  body,  was  light  and  agile.  He  eminently  possessed  the 
intellectual  atti-ibutes  of  the  Shemitic  race,  penetrating  sagac- 
ity, subtle  wit,  a  ready  conception,  and  a  brilliant  imagina- 
tion. His  sensibilities  were  quick  and  acute,  though  not  last- 
ing ;  a  proud  and  daring  spirit  was  stamped  on  his  sallow 
visage  and  flashed  from  his  dark  and  kindling  eye.  He  was 
easily  aroused  by  the  appeals  of  eloquence,  and  charmed  by 
the  graces  of  poetry.  Speaking  a  language  copious  in  the 
extreme,  the  words  of  which  have  been  compared  to  gems  and 
flowers,  he  was  naturally  an  orator  ;  but  he  delighted  in  prov- 
erbs and  apothegms,  rather  than  in  sustained  flights  of  decla- 
mation, and  was  prone  to  convey  his  ideas  in  the  oriental  style 
by  apologue  and  parable. 

Though  a  restless  and  predatory  warrior,  he  was  generous 
and  hospitable.     He  delighted  in  giving  gifts,  his  door  was 
always  open  to  the  wayfarer,  with  whom  he  was  ready  to  share 
his  last  morsel ;  and  his  deadliest  foe,   having   once  broken 


*  Genesis  16  :  12. 


PRELIMINARY  NOTICE  OF  ARABIA.  <2\ 

bread  with  him,  might  repose  securely  beneath  the  inviolable 
sanctity  of  his  tent. 

In  religion  the  Arabs,  in  what  they  term  the  Days  of  Igno- 
rance, partook  largely  of  the  two  faiths,  the  Sabean  and  the 
Magian,  winch  at  that  time  prevailed  over  the  eastern  world. 
The  Sabean,  however,  was  the  one  to  which  they  most 
adhered.  They  pretended  to  derive  it  from  Sabi  the  son  of 
Seth,  who,  with  his  father  and  his  brother  Enoch,  they  sup- 
posed to  be  buried  in  the  pyramids.  Others  derive  the  name 
from  the  Hebrew  word,  Saba,  or  the  Stars,  and  trace  the 
origin  of  the  faith  to  the  Assyrian  shepherds,  who  as  they 
watched  their  flocks  by  night  on  their  level  plains,  and  beneath 
their  cloudless  skies,  noted  the  aspects  and  movements  of  the 
heavenly  bodies,  and  formed  theories  of  their  good  and  evil 
influences  on  human  affairs ;  vague  notions  which  the  Chal- 
dean philosophers  and  priests  reduced  to  a  system,  supposed  to 
be  more  ancient  even  than  that  of  the  Egyptians. 

By  others  it  is  derived  from  still  higher  authority,  and 
claimed  to  be  the  religion  of  the  antediluvian  world.  It  sur- 
vived, say  they,  the  deluge,  and  was  continued  among  the 
patriarchs.  It  was  taught  by  Abraham,  adopted  by  his  de- 
scendants, the  children  of  Israel,  and  sanctified  and  confirmed 
in  the  tablets  of  the  law,  delivered  unto  Moses  amid  the  thun- 
der and  lightning  of  Mount  Sinai. 

In  its  original  state  the  Sabean  faith  was  pure  and  spiritual ; 
inculcating  a  belief  in  the  unity  ot  God,  the  doctrine  of  a 
future  state  of  rewards  and  punishments,  and  the  necessity  of  a 
virtuous  and  holy  life  to  obtain  a  happy  immortality.  So  pro- 
found was  the  reverence  of  the  Sabeans  for  the  Supreme 
Being,  that  they  never  mentioned  his  name,  nor  did  they  ven- 
ture to  approach  him,  but  through  intermediate  intelligences 
or  angels.  These  were  supposed  to  inhabit  and  animate  the 
heavenly  bodies,  in  the  same  way  as  the  human  body  is  inhab- 
ited and  animated  by  a  soul.  They  were  placed  in  their 
respective  spheres  to  supervise  and  govern  the  universe  in  sub- 
serviency to  the  Most  High.  In  addressing  themselves  to  the 
stars  and  other  celestial  luminaries,  therefore,  the  Sabeans  did 
not  worship  them  as  deities,  but  sought  only  to  propitiate  their 
angelic  occupants  as  intercessors  with  the  Supreme  Being; 
looking  up  through  these  created  things  to  God  the  great  Cre- 
ator. 

By  degrees  this  religion  lost  its  original  simplicity  and 
purity,  and  became  obscured  by  mysteries,  and  degraded  by 


22  MAHOMET  AND  IUS  SUCCESSORS. 

idolatries.  The  Sabeans,  instead  of  regarding  the  heavenly 
bodies  as  the  habitations  of  intermediate  agents,  worshipped 
them  as  deities;  set  up  graven  images  in  honor  of  them,  in 
sacred  groves  and  in  the  gloom  of  forests;  and  at  length 
enshrined  these  idols  in  temples,  and  worshipped  them  as  if 
instinct  with  divinity.  The  Sabean  faith  too  underwent 
changes  and  modifications  in  the  various  countries  through 
which  it  was  diffused.  Egypt  has  long  been  accused  of  reduc- 
ing it  to  the  most  abject  state  of  degradation;  the  statues, 
hieroglyphics,  and  painted  sepulchres  of  that  mysterious  coun- 
try, being  considered  records  of  the  worship,  not  merely  of 
celestial  intelligences,  but  of  the  lowest  order  of  created  beings, 
and  even  of  inanimate  objects.  Modern  investigation  and 
research,  however,  are  gradually  rescuing  the  most  intellect- 
ual nation  of  antiquity  from  this  aspersion,  and  as  they  slowly 
lift  the  veil  of  mystery  which  hangs  over  the  tombs  of  Egypt, 
are  discovering  that  all  these  apparent  objects  of  adoration 
were  but  symbols  of  the  varied  attributes  of  the  one  Supreme 
Being,  whose  name  was  too  sacred  to  be  pronounced  by  mor- 
tals. Among  the  Arabs  the  Sabean  faith  became  mingled  with 
wild  superstitions,  and  degraded  by  gross  idolatry.  Each 
tribe  worshipped  its  particular  star  or  planet,  or  set  up  its  par- 
ticular idol.  Infanticide  mingled  its  horrors  with  their  relig- 
ious rites.  Among  the  nomadic  tribes  the  birth  of  a  daughter 
was  considered  a  misfortune,  her  sex  rendering  her  of  little 
service  in  a  wandering  and  predatory  life,  while  she  might 
bring  disgrace  upon  her  family  by  misconduct  or  captivity. 
Motives  of  unnatural  policy,  therefore,  may  have  mingled 
with  their  religious  feelings,  in  offering  up  female  infants  as 
sacrifices  to  their  idols,  or  in  burying  them  alive. 

The  rival  sect  of  Magians  or  Guebres  (fire  worshippers), 
which,  as  we  have  said,  divided  the  religious  empire  of  the 
East,  took  its  rise  in  Persia,  where,  after  a  while,  its  oral  doc- 
trines  were  reduced  to  writing  by  its  great  prophet  and 
teacher  Zoroaster,  in  his  volume  of  the  Zendavesta.  The 
creed,  like  that  of  the  Sabeans,  was  originally  simple  and 
spiritual,  inculcating  a  belief  in  one  supreme  and  eternal  God, 
in  whom  and  by  whom  the  universe  exists :  that  he  produced, 
through  his  creating  word,  two  active  principles,  Ormusd,  the 
principle  or  angel  of  light  or  good,  and  Ahriman,  the  principle 
or  angel  of  darkness  or  evil :  that  these  f ormed-the  world  out 
of  a  mixture  of  their  opposite  elements,  and  were  engaged  in  a 
perpetual  contest  in  the  regulation  of  its  affairs.     Hence  the 


PRELIMINARY  NOTICE  OF  ARABIA.  23 

■ 

vicissitudes  of  good  and  evil,  accordingly  as  the  angel  of  light 
or  darkness  has  the  upper  hand:  this  contest  would  continue 
until  the  end  of  the  world,  when  there  would  he  a  general 
resurrection  and  a  day  of  judgment;  the  angel  of  darkness 
and  his  disciples  would  then  he  banished  to  an  abode  of  woeful 
gloom,  and  their  opponents  would  enter  the  blissful  realms  of 
ever-during  light. 

The  primitive  "rites  of  this  religion  were  extremely  simple. 
The  Magians  had  neither  temples,  altars,  nor  religious  symbols 
of  any  kind,  but  addressed  their  prayers  and  hymns  directly 
to  the  Deity,  in  what  they  conceived  to  be  his  residence,  the 
sun.  They  revei'enced  this  luminary  as  being  his  abode,  and 
as  the  source  of  the  light  and  heat  of  which  all  the  other 
heavenly  bodies  were  composed ;  and  they  kindled  fires  upon 
the  mountain  tops  to  supply  light  during  its  absence.  Zoroas- 
ter first  introduced  the  use  of  temples,  wherein  sacred  fire, 
pretended  to  be  derived  from  heaven,  was  kept  perpetually 
alive  through  the  guardianship  of  priests,  who  maintained  a 
watch  over  it  night  and  day. 

In  process  of  time  this  sect,  like  that  of  the  Sabeans,  lost 
sight  of  the  divine  principle  in  the  symbol,  and  came  to  wor- 
ship fight  or  fire,  as  the  real  deity,  and  to  abhor  darkness  as 
Satan  or  the  devil.  In  their  fanatic  zeal,  the  Magians  would 
seize  upon  unbelievers  and  offer  them  up  in  the  flames  to  pro- 
pitiate their  fiery  deity. 

To  the  tenets  of  these  two  sects  reference  is  made  in  that 
beautiful  text  of  the  wisdom  of  Solomon :  ' '  Surely  vain  are  all 
men  by  nature  who  are  ignorant  of  God,  and  could  not,  by 
considering  the  work,  acknowledge  the  work  master;  but 
deemed  either  fire,  or  wind,  or  the  swift  air,  or  the  circle  of 
the  stars,  or  the  violent  water,  or  the  fights  of  heaven,  to  be 
gods,  which  govern  the  world." 

Of  these  two  faiths  the  Sabean,  as  we  have  before  observed, 
was  much  the  most  prevalent  among  the  Arabs;  but  in  an 
extremely  degraded  form,  mingled  with  all  kinds  of  abuses, 
and  varying  among  the  various  tribes.  The  Magian  faith  pre- 
vailed among  those  tribes  which,  from  their  frontier  position, 
had  frequent  intercourse  with  Persia ;  while  other  tribes  par- 
took of  the  superstitions  and  idolatries  of  the  nations  on  which 
they  bordered. 

Judaism  had  made  its  way  into  Arabia  at  an  early  period, 
but  very  vaguely  and  imperfectly.  Still  many  of  its  rites  and 
ceremonies,  and  fanciful  traditions,  became  implanted  in  the 


24  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

country.  At  a  later  day,  however,  when  Palestine  was  rav- 
aged by  the  Eomans,  and  the  city  of  Jerusalem  taken  and 
sacked,  many  of  the  Jews  took  refuge  among  the  Arabs ;  be- 
came incorporated  with  the  native  tribes ;  formed  themselves 
into  communities;  acquired  possession  of  fertile  tracts;  built 
castles  and  strongholds,  and  rose  to  considerable  power  and 
influence. 

The  Christian  religion  had  likewise  its  adherents  among  the 
Arabs.  St.  Paul  himself  declares,  in  his  epistle  to  the  Gala- 
tians,  that  soon  after  he  had  been  called  to  preach  Christianity 
among  the  heathens,  he  "went  into  Arabia."  The  dissensions, 
also,  which  rose  in  the  Eastern  church,  in  the  early  part  of  the 
third  century,  breaking  it  up  into  sects,  each  persecuting  the 
others  as  it  gained  the  ascendency,  drove  many  into  exile  into 
remote  parts  of  the  East;  filled  the  deserts  of  Arabia  with 
anchorites,  and  planted  the  Christian  faith  among  some  of  the 
principal  tribes. 

The  foregoing  circumstances,  physical  and  moral,  may  give 
an  idea  of  the  causes  which  maintained  the  Arabs  for  ages  in 
an  unchanged  condition.  While  their  isolated  position  and 
their  vast  deserts  protected  them  from  conquest,  their  internal 
feuds  and  their  want  of  a  common  tie,  political  or  religious, 
kept  them  from  being  formidable  as  conquerors.  They  were  a 
vast  aggregation  of  distinct  parts ;  full  of  individual  vigor,  but 
wanting  coherent  strength.  Although  their  nomadic  life  ren- 
dered them  hardy  and  active;  although  the  greater  part  of 
them  were  warriors  from  infancy,  yet  their  arms  were  only 
wielded  against  each  other,  excepting  some  of  the  frontier 
tribes,  which  occasionally  engaged  as  mercenaries  in  external 
wars.  While,  therefore,  the  other  nomadic  races  of  Central 
Asia,  possessing  no  greater  aptness  for  warfare,  had,  during  a 
course  of  ages,  successively  overrun  and  conquered  the  civil- 
ized world,  this  warrior  race,  unconscious  of  its  power,  re- 
mained disjointed  and  harmless  in  the  depths  of  its  native 
deserts. 

The  time  at  length  arrived  when  its  discordant  tribes  were 
to  be  united  in  one  creed,  and  animated  by  one  common 
cause ;  when  a  mighty  genius  was  to  arise,  who  should  bring 
together  these  scattered  limbs,  animate  them  with  his  own 
enthusiastic  and  daring  spirit,  and  lead  them  forth,  a  giant  of 
the  desert,  to  shake  and  overturn  the  empires  of  the  earth. 


BIRTH  AND  PARENTAGE  OF  MAHOMET.  25 


CHAPTER  II. 

BIRTH  AND  PARENTAGE  OF  MAHOMET— HIS  INFANCY  AND 

CHILDHOOD. 

Mahomet,  the  great  founder  of  the  faith  of  Islam,  was  born 
in  Mecca,  in  April,  in  the  year  569  of  the  Christian  era.  He 
was  of  the  valiant  and  illustrious  tribe  of  Koreish,  of  which 
there  were  two  branches,  descended  from  two  brothers,  Has- 
chem  and  Abd  Schems.  Haschem,  the  progenitor  of  Mahomet, 
was  a  great  benefactor  of  Mecca.  This  city  is  situated  in  the 
midst  of  a  barren  and  stony  country,  and  in  former  times  was 
often  subject  to  scarcity  of  provisions.  At  the  beginning  of 
the  sixth  century,  Haschem  established  two  yearly  caravans, 
one  in  the  winter  to  South  Arabia  or  Yemen ;  the  other  in  the 
summer  to  Syria.  By  these  means  abundant  supplies  were 
brought  to  Mecca,  as  well  as  a  great  variety  of  merchandise. 
The  city  became  a  commercial  mart,  and  the  tribe  of  Koreish, 
which  engaged  largely  in  these  expeditions,  became  wealthy 
and  powerful.  Haschem,  at  this  time,  was  the  guardian  of 
the  Caaba,  the  great  shrine  of  Arabian  pilgrimage  and  wor- 
ship, the  custody  of  which  was  confided  to  none  but  the  most 
honorable  tribes  and  families,  in  the  same  manner  as  in  old 
times  the  temple  of  Jerusalem  was  intrusted  only  to  the  care 
of  the  Levites.  In  fact,  the  guardianship  of  the  Caaba  was 
connected  with  civd  dignities  and  privileges,  and  gave  the 
holder  of  it  the  control  of  the  sacred  city. 

On  the  death  of  Haschem,  his  son,  Abd  al  Motalleb,  suc- 
ceeded to  his  honors,  and  inherited  his  patriotism.  He  de- 
livered the  holy  city  from  an  invading  army  of  troops  and 
elephants,  sent  by  the  Christian  princes  of  Abyssinia,  who 
at  that  time  held  Yemen  in  subjection.  These  signal  services 
rendered  by  father  and  son  confirmed  the  guardianship  of  the 
Caaba  in  the  line  of  Haschem,  to  the  great  discontent  and 
envy  of  the  line  of  Abd  Schems. 

Abd  al  Motalleb  had  several  sons  and  daughters.  Those  of 
his  sons  who  figure  in  history  were,  Abu  Taleb,  Abu  Lahab, 
Abbas,  Hamza,  and  Abdallah.  The  last  named  was  the 
youngest  and  best  beloved.  He  married  Amina,  a  maiden 
of  a  distant  branch  of  the  same  illustrious  stock  of  Koreish. 


26  MAHOMET  AND  UTS  SUCCESSORS. 

So  remarkable  was  Abdallah  for  personal  beauty  and  those 
qualities  which  win  the  affections  of-  women,  that,  if  Moslem 
traditions  are  to  be  credited,  on  the  night  of  his  .marriage  with 
Amina,  two  hundred  virgins  of  the  tribe  of  Koreish  died  of 
broken  hearts. 

Mahomet  was  the  first  and  only  fruit  of  the  marriage  thus 
sadly  celebrated.  His  birth,  according  to  similar  traditions 
with  the  one  just  cited,  was  accompanied  by  signs  and  por- 
tents announcing  a  child  of  wonder.  His  mother  suffered 
none  of  the  pangs  of  travail.  At  the  moment  of  his  coming 
into  the  world,  a  celestial  light  illumined  the  surrounding 
country,  and  the  new-born  child,  raising  his  eyes  to  heaven, 
exclaimed:  "God  is  great!  There  is  no  God  but  God,  and  I 
am  his  prophet. " 

Heaven  and  earth,  we  are  assured,  were  agitated  at  his 
advent.  The  Lake  Sawa  shrank  back  to  its  secret  springs, 
leaving  its  borders  dry ;  while  the  Tigris,  bursting  its  bounds, 
overflowed  the  neighboring  lands.  The  palace  of  Khosru  the 
King  of  Persia  shook  to  its  foundations,  and  several  of  its 
towers  were  toppled  to  the  earth.  In  that  troubled  night 
Kadhi,  or  the  Judge  of  Persia,  beheld,  in  a  dream,  a  feroci- 
ous camel  conquered  by  an  Arabian  courser.  He  related  his 
dream  in  the  morning  to  the  Persian  monarch,  and  inter- 
preted it  to  portend  danger  from  the  quarter  of  Arabia. 

In  the  same  eventful  night  the  sacred  fire  of  Zoroaster, 
which,  guarded  by  the  Magi,  had  burned  without  interrup- 
tion for  upward  of  a  thousand  years,  was  suddenly  extin- 
guished, and  all  the  idols  in  the  world  fell  down.  The 
demons,  or  evil  genii,  which  lurk  in  the  stars  and  the  signs 
of  the  zodiac,  and  exert  a  malignant  influence  over  the  chil- 
dren of  men,  were  cast  forth  by  the  pure  angels,  and  hurled, 
with  their  arch  leader,  Eblis,  or  Lucifer,  into  the  depths  of  the 
sea. 

The  relatives  of  the  new-born  child,  say  the  like  authorities, 
were  fill  with  awe  and  wonder.  His  mother's  brother,  an 
astrologer,  cast  his  nativity,  and  predicted  that  he  would  rise 
to  vast  power,  found  an  empire,  and  establish  a  new  faith 
among  men.  His  grandfather,  Abd  al  Motalleb,  gave  a  feast 
to  the  principal  Koreishites,  the  seventh  day  after  his  birth, 
at  which  he  presented  this  child,  a3  the  dawning  glory  of  their 
race,  and  gave  him  the  name  of  Mahomet  (of  Muhamed), 
indicative  of  his  future  renown. 

Such  are  the  marvellous  accounts  given  by  Moslem  writers 


BIRTH  AND  PARENTAGE  OF  MAHOMET.  21 

of  the  infancy"  of  Mahomet,  and  we  have  little  else  than  similar 
fables  about  his  early  years.  He  was  scarce  two  months  old 
when  his  father  died,  leaving  him  no  other  inheritance  than 
five  camels,  a  few  sheep,  and  a  female  slave  of  Ethiopia, 
named  Barakat.  His  mother,  Amina,  had  hitherto  nurtured 
him,  but  care  and  sorrow  dried  the  fountains  of  her  breast, 
and  the  air  of  Mecca  being  unhealthy  for  children,  she  sought 
a  nurse  for  him  among  the  females  of  the  neighboring  Bedouin 
tribes.  These  were  accustomed  to  come  to  Mecca  twice  a  year, 
in  spring  and  autumn,  to  foster  the  children  of  its  inhabitants ; 
but  they  looked  for  the  offspring  of  the  rich,  where  they  were 
sure  of  ample  recompense,  and  turned  with  contempt  from 
this  heir  of  poverty.  At  length  Halema,  the  wife  of  a  Saadite 
shepherd,  was  moved  to  compassion,  and  took  the  helpless 
infant  to  her  home.  It  was  in  one  of  the  pastoral  valleys  of 
the  mountains.* 

Many  were  the  wonders  related  by  Halema  of  her  infant 
charge.  On  the  journey  from  Mecca,  the  mule  which  bore 
him  became  miraculously  endowed  with  speech,  and  pro- 
claimed aloud  that  he  bore  on  his  back  the  greatest  of 
prophets,  the  chief  of  ambassadors,  the  favorite  of  the  Al- 
mighty. The  sheep  bowed  to  him  as  he  passed;  as  he  lay 
in  his  cradle  and  gazed  at  the  moon  it  stooped  to  him  in 
reverence. 

The  blessing  of  heaven,  say  the  Arabian  writers,  rewarded 
the  charity  of  Halema.  While  the  child  remained  under  her 
roof,  everything  around  her  prospered.  The  wells  and  springs 
were  never  dried  up ;  the  pastures  were  always  green ;  her 
flocks  and  herds  increased  tenfold;  a  marvellous  abundance 
reigned  over  her  fields,  and  peace  prevailed  in  her  dwelling. 

The  Arabian  legends  go  on  to  extol  the  almost  supernatural 
powers,  bodily  and  mental,  manifested  by  this  wonderful  child 
at  a  very  early  age.  He  could  stand  alone  when  three  months 
old;  run  abroad  when  he  was  seven,  and  at  ten  could  join 
other  children  in  their  sports  with  bows  and  arrows.  At  eight 
months  he  could  speak  so  as  to  be  understood;  and  in  the 
course  of  another  month  could  converse  with  fluency,  display- 
ing a  wisdom  astonishing  to  all  who  heard  him. 


*  The  Beni  Sad  (or  children  of  Sad)  date  from  the  most  remote  antiquity,  and 
with  the  Katan  Arabs,  are  the  only  remnants  of  the  primitive  tribes  of  Arabia. 
Their  valley  is  among  the  mountains  which  range  southwardly  from  the  Tayef.— 
Burckhardt  on  the  Bedouins,  vol.  ii.  p.  47. 


28  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

At  the  age  of  three  years,  while  playing  in  the  fields  Avith 
his  foster-brother,  Masroud,  two  angels  in  shining  apparel 
appeared  before  them.  They  laid  Mahomet  gently  upon  the 
ground,  and  Gabriel,  one  of  the  angels,  opened  his  breast,  but 
without  inflicting  any  pain.  Then  taking  forth  his  heart,  he 
cleansed  it  from  all  impurity,  wringing  from  it  those  black 
and  bitter  drops  of  original  sin,  inherited  from  our  forefather 
Adam,  and  which  lurk  in  the  hearts  of  the  best  of  his  descend- 
ants, inciting  them  to  crime.  When  he  had  thoroughly  puri- 
fied it,  he  filled  it  with  faith  and  knowledge  and  prophetic 
light,  and  replaced  it  in  the  bosom  of  the  child.  Now,  we  are 
assured  by  the  same  authorities,  began  to  emanate  from  his 
countenance  that  mysterious  light  which  had  continued  down 
from  Adam,  through  the  sacred  line  of  prophets,  until  the  time 
of  Isaac  and  Ishmael ;  but  which  had  lain  dormant  in  the  de- 
scendants of  the  latter,  until  it  thus  shone  forth  with  renewed 
radiance  from  the  features  of  Mahomet. 

At  this  supernatural  visitation,  it  is  added,  was  impressed 
between  the  shoulders  of  the  child  the  seal  of  prophecy,  which 
continued  throughout  life  the  symbol  and  credential  of  his 
divine  mission;  though  unbelievers  saw  nothing  in  it  but  a 
large  mole,  the  size  of  a  pigeon's  egg. 

When  the  marvellous  visitation  of  the  angel  was  related  to 
Halema  and  her  husband,  they  were  alarmed  lest  some  misfor- 
tune should  be  impending  over  the  child,  or  that  his  super- 
natural visitors  might  be  of  the  race  of  evil  spirits  or  genii, 
which  haunt  the  solitudes  of  the  desert,  wreaking  mischief  on 
the  children  of  men.  His  Saadite  nurse,  therefore,  carried 
him  back  to  Mecca,  and  delivered  him  to  his  mother  Amina. 

He  remained  with  his  parent  until  his  sixth  year,  when  she 
took  him  with  her  to  Medina,  on  a  visit  to  her  relatives  of  the 
tribe  of  Adij,  but  on  her  journey  homeward  she  died,  and  was 
buried  at  Abwa,  a  village  between  Medina  and  Mecca.  Her 
grave,  it  will  be  found,  was  a  place  of  pious  resort  and  tender 
recollection  to  her  son,  at  the  latest  period  of  his  life. 

The  faithful  Abyssinian  slave,  Barakat,  now  acted  as  a 
mother  to  the  orphan  child,  and  conducted  him  to  his  grand- 
father Abd  al  Motalleb,  in  whose  household  he  remained  for 
two  years,  treated  with  care  and  tenderness.  Abd  al  Motalleb 
was  now  well  stricken  in  years ;  having  outlived  the  ordinary 
term  of  human  existence.  Finding  his  end  approaching,  he 
called  to  him  his  eldest  son,  Abu  Taleb,  and  bequeathed  Ma- 
homet to  his  especial  protection.     The  good  Abu  Taleb  took  his 


TRADITIONS  CONCERNING  MECCA.  oy 

nephew  to  his  bosom,  and  ever  afterward  was  to  him  as  a 
parent.  As  the  former  succeeded  to  the  guardianship  of  the 
Caaba  at  the  death  of  his  father,  Mahomet  continued  for 
several  years  in  a  kind  of  sacerdotal  household,  where  the 
rites  and  ceremonies  of  the  sacred  house  were  rigidly  observed. 
And  here  we  deem  it  necessary  to  give  a  more  especial  notice 
of  the  alleged  origin  of  the  Caaba,  and  of  the  rites  and  tradi- 
tions and  superstitions  connected  with  it,  closely  interwoven 
as  they  are  with  the  faith  of  Islam  and  the  story  of  its  founder. 


CHAPTER  III. 

TRADITIONS  CONCERNING  MECCA  AND  THE  CAABA.  - 

When  Adam  and  Eve  were  cast  forth  from  Paradise,  say 
Arabian  traditions,  they  fell  in  different  parts  of  the  earth; 
Adam  on  a  mountain  of  the  island  of  Serendib,  or  Ceylon ;  Eve 
in  Arabia  on  the  borders  of  the  Red  Sea,  where  the  port  of 
Joddah  is  now  situated.  For  two  hundred  years  they  wan- 
dered separate  and  lonely  about  the  earth,  until,  in  considera- 
tion of  their  penitence  and  wretchedness,  they  were  permitted 
to  come  together  again  on  Mount  Arafat,  not  far  from  the 
present  city  of  Mecca.  In  the  depth  of  his  sorrow  and  repent- 
ance, Adam,  it  is  said,  raised  his  hands  and  eyes  to  heaven, 
and  implored  the  clemency  of  God ;  entreating  that  a  shrine 
might  be  vouchsafed  to  him  similar  to  that  at  which  he  had 
worshipped  when  in  Paradise,  and  round  which  the  angels  used 
to  move  in  adoring  processions. 

The  supplication  of  Adam  was  effectual.  A  tabernacle  or 
temple  formed  of  radiant  clouds  was  lowered  down  by  the 
hands  of  angels,  and  placed  immediately  below  its  prototype 
in  the  celestial  paradise.  Toward  this  heaven-descended  shrine 
Adam  thenceforth  turned  when  in  prayer,  and  round  it  he 
daily  made  seven  circuits  in  imitation  of  the  rites  of  the  ador- 
ing angels. 

At  the  death  of  Adam,  say  the  same  traditions,  the  taber- 
nacle of  clouds  passed  away,  or  was  again  drawn  up  to  heaven ; 
but  another,  of  the  same  form  and  in  the  same  place,  was  built 
of  stone  and  clay  by  Seth,  the  son  of  Adam.  This  was  swept 
away  by  the  deluge.    Many  generations  afterward,  in  the  time 


30  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

of  the  patriarchs,  when  Hagar  and  her  child  Ishmael  were  near 
perishing  with  thirst  in  the  desert,  an  angel  revealed  to  them  a 
spring  or  well  of  water,  near  to  the  ancient  site  of  the  taber- 
nacle. This  was  the  well  of  Zem  Zem,  held  sacred  by  the  pro- 
geny of  Ishmael  to  the  present  day.  Shortly  afterward  two 
individuals  of  the  gigantic  race  of  the  Amalekites,  in  quest  of 
a  camel  which  had  strayed  from  their  camp,  discovered  this 
well,  and,  having  slaked  their  thirst,  brought  their  companions 
to  the  place.  Here  they  founded  the  city  of  Mecca,  taking 
Ishmael  and  his  mother  under  their  protection.  They  were 
soon  expelled  by  the  proper  inhabitants  of  the  country,  among 
whom  Ishmael  remained.  When  grown  to  man's  estate,  he 
married  the  daughter  of  the  ruling  prince,  by  whom  he  had  a 
numerous  progeny,  the  ancestors  of  the  Arabian  people.  In 
process  of  time,  by  God's  command  he  undertook  to  rebuild 
the  Caaba,  on  the  precise  site  of  the  original  tabernacle  of 
clouds.  In  this  pious  work  lie  was  assisted  by  his  father  Abra- 
ham. A  miraculous  stone  served  Abraham  as  a  scaffold, 
rising  and  sinking  with  him  as  he  built  the  walls  of  the  sacred 
edifice.  It  still  remains  there  an  inestimable  relic,  and  the 
print  of  the  patriarch's  foot  is  clearly  to  be  perceived  on  it  by 
all  true  believers. 

While  Abraham  and  Ishmael  were  thus  occupied,  the  angel 
Gabriel  brought  them  a  stone,  about  which  traditional  ac- 
counts are  a  little  at  variance ;  by  some  it  is  said  to  have  been 
one  of  the  precious  stones  of  Paradise,  which  fell  to  the  earth 
with  Adam,  and  was  afterward  lost  in  the  slime  of  the  deluge, 
until  retrieved  by  the  angel  Gabriel.  The  more  received  tra- 
dition is,  that  it  was  originally  the  guardian  angel  appointed 
to  watch  over  Adam  in  Paradise,  but  changed  into  a  stone  and 
ejected  thence  with  him  at  his  fall,  as  a  punishment  for  not  hav- 
ing been  more  vigilant.  This  stone  Abraham  and  Ishmael  re- 
ceived with  proper  reverence,  and  inserted  it  in  a  corner  of  the 
exterior  wall  of  the  Caaba,  where  it  remains  to  the  present  day, 
devoutly  kissed  by  worshippers  each  time  they  make  a  circuit 
of  the  temple.  When  first  inserted  in  the  wall  it  was,  we  are 
told,  a  single  jacinth  of  dazzling  whiteness,  but  became  gradu- 
ally blackened  by  the  kisses  of  sinful  moi'tals.  At  the  resur- 
rection it  will  recover  its  angelic  form,  and  stand  forth  a  testi- 
mony before  God  in  favor  of  those  who  have  faithfully 
performed  the  rites  of  pilgrimage. 

Such  are  the  Arabian  traditions,  which  rendered  the  Caaba 
nnd  the  well  of  Zem  Zem  objects  of  extraordinary  veneration 


TRADITIONS  CONCERNING  MECCA.  31 

from  the  remotest  antiquity  among  the  people  of  the  East, 
and  especially  the  descendants  of  Ishmael.  Mecca,  which  in- 
closes these  sacred  objects  within  its  walls,  was  a  holy  city 
many  ages  before  the  rise  of  Mahometanism,  and  was  the  re- 
sort of  pilgrims  from  all  parts  of  Arabia.  So  universal  and 
profound  was  the  religious  feeling  respecting  this  observance, 
that  four  months  in  every  year  were  devoted  to  the  rites  of 
pilgrimage,  and  held  sacred  from  all  violence  and  warfare. 
Hostile  tribes  then  laid  aside  then*  arms ;  took  the  heads  from 
their  spears;  traversed  the  late  dangerous  deserts  in  secu- 
rity ;  thronged  the  gates  of  Mecca  clad  in  the  pilgrim's  garb ; 
made  their  seven  circuits  round  the  Caaba  in  imitation  of  the 
angelic  host ;  touched  and  kissed  the  mysterious  black  stone ; 
drank  and  made  ablutions  at  the  well  Zem  Zem  in  memory 
of  their  ancestor  Ishmael ;  and  having  performed  all  the  other 
primitive  rites  of  pilgrimage  returned  home  in  safety,  again  to 
resume  their  weapons  and  their  wars. 

Among  the  religious  observances  of  the  Arabs  in  these  their 
"days  of  ignorance;"  that  is  to  say,  before  the  promulgation 
of  the  Moslem  doctrines,  fasting  and  prayer  had  a  foremost 
place.  They  had  three  principal  fasts  within  the  year ;  one  of 
seven,  one  of  nine,  and  one  of  thirty  days.  They  prayed  three 
times  each  day;  about  sunrise,  at  noon,  and  about  sunset; 
turning  their  faces  in  the  direction  of  the  Caaba,  which  was 
their  kebla,  or  point  of  adoration.  They  had  many  religious 
traditions,  some  of  them  acquired  in  early  times  from  the 
Jews,  and  they  are  said  to  have  nurtured  their  devotional 
feelings  with  the  book  of  Psalms,  and  with  a  book  said  to  be 
by  Seth,  and  filled  with  moral  discourses. 

Brought  up,  as  Mahomet  was,  in  the  house  of  the  guardian 
of  the  Caaba,  the  ceremonies  and  devotions  connected  with 
the  sacred  edifice  may  have  given  an  early  bias  to  his  mind, 
and  inclined  it  to  those  speculations  in  matters  of  religion  by 
which  it  eventually  became  engrossed.  Though  his  Moslem 
biographers  would  fain  persuade  us  his  high  destiny  was 
clearly  foretold  in  his  childhood  by  signs  and  prodigies,  yet 
his  education  appears  to  have  been  as  much  neglected  as  that 
of  ordinary  Arab  children ;  for  we  find  that  he  was  not  taught 
either  to  read  or  write.  He  was  a  thoughtful  child,  however ; 
quick  to  observe,  prone  to  meditate  on  all  that  he  observed, 
and  possessed  of  an  imagination  fertile,  daring,  and  expansive. 
The  yearly  influx  of  pilgrims  from  distant  parts  made  Mecca  a 
receptacle   for  all    kinds    of   floating   knowledge,  which    he 


32  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

appears  to  have  imbibed  with  eagerness  and  retained  in  a 
tenacious  memory;  and  as  he  increased  in  years,  a  more 
extended  sphere  of  observation  was  gradually  opened  to  him. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

FIRST  JOTIRTCEY  OF  MAHOMET  WITH  THE  CARAVAN  TO  SYRIA. 

Mahomet  was  now  twelve  years  of  age,  but,  as  we  have 
shown,  he  had  an  intelligence  far  beyond  his  years.  The 
spirit  of  inquiry  was  awake  within  him,  quickened  by  inter- 
course with  pilgrims  from  all  parts  of  Arabia.  His  uncle  Abu 
Taleb,  too,  beside  his  sacerdotal  character  as  guardian  of  the 
Caaba,  was  one  of  the  most  enterprising  merchants  of  the 
tribe  of  Koreish,  and  had  much  to  do  with  those  caravans  set 
on  foot  by  his  ancestor  Haschem,  which  traded  to  Syria  and 
Yemen.  The  arrival  and  departure  of  those  caravans,  which 
thronged  the  gates  of  Mecca  and  filled  its  streets  with  pleasing 
tumult,  were  exciting  events  to  a  youth  like  Mahomet,  and 
carried  his  imagination  to  foreign  parts.  He  could  no  longer 
repress  the  ardent  curiosity  thus  aroused ;  but  once,  when  his 
uncle  was  about  to  mount  his  camel  to  depart  with  the  caravan 
for  Syria,  clung  to  him.  and  entreated  to  be  permitted  to  ac- 
company him:  "For  who.  oh  my  uncle,"  said  he,  ''will  take 
care  of  me  when  thou  art  away?" 

The  appeal  was  not  lost  upon  the  kind-hearted  Abu  Taleb. 
He  bethought  him,  too,  that  the  youth  was  of  an  age  to  enter 
upon  the  active  scenes  of  Arab  life,  and  of  a  capacity  to  render 
essential  service  in  the  duties  of  the  caravan:  he  readily, 
therefore,  granted  his  prayer,  and  took  him  with  him  on  the 
journey  to  Syria. 

The  route  lay  through  regions  fertile  in  fables  and  traditions, 
which  it  is  the  delight  of  the  Arabs  to  recount  in  the  evening 
halts  of  the  caravan.  The  vast  solitudes  of  the  desert,  in 
which  that  wandering  people  pass  so  much  of  then-  lives,  are 
prone  to  engender  superstitious  fancies ;  they  have  accordingly 
peopled  them  with  good  and  evil  genii,  and  clothed  them  with 
tales  of  enchantment,  mingled  up  with  wonderful  events 
which  happened  in  days  of  old.  In  these  evening  halts  of  the 
caravan,  the  vouthful  mind  of  Mahomet  doubtless  imbibed 


FIRST  JOURNEY  OF  MAHOMET.  33 

many  of  those  superstitions  of  the  desert  which  ever  after- 
ward dwelt  in  his  memory,  and  had  a  powerful  influence  over 
his  imagination.  We  may  especially  note  two  traditions 
which  he  must  have  heard  at  this  time,  and  which  we  find 
recorded  by  him  in  after  years  in  the  Koran.  One  related  to 
the  mountainous  district  of  Hedjar.  Here,  as  the  caravan 
wound  its  way  through  silent  and  deserted  valleys,  caves  were 
pointed  out  hi  the  sides  of  the  mountains  once  inhabited  by 
the  Beni  Thamud,  or  children  of  Thamud,  one  of  the  "lost 
tribes"  of  Arabia;  and  this  was  the  tradition  concerning 
them. 

They  were  a  proud  and  gigantic  race,  existing  before  the 
time  of  the  patriarch  Abraham.  Having  fallen  into  blind 
idolatry,  God  sent  a  prophet  of  the  name  of  Saleh,  to  restore 
them  to  the  right  way.  They  refused,  however,  to  listen  to 
him  unless  he  should  prove  the  divinity  of  his  mission  by 
causing  a  camel,  big  with  young,  to  issue  from  the  entrails  of 
a  mountain.  Saleh  accordingly  prayed,  and  lo !  a  rock  opened, 
and  a  female  camel  came  forth,  which  soon  produced  a  foal. 
Some  of  the  Thamudites  were  convinced  by  the  miracle,  and 
were  converted  by  the  prophet  from  their  idolatry ;  the  greater 
part,  however,  remained  in  unbelief.  Saleh  left  the  camel 
among  them  as  a  sign,  warning  them  that  a  judgment  from 
heaven  would  fall  on  them,  should  they  do  her  any  harm. 
For  a  time  the  camel  was  suffered  to  feed  quietly  in  their 
pastures,  going  forth  in  the  morning  and  returning  in  the 
evening.  It  is  true,  that  when  she  bowed  her  head  to  drink 
from  a  brook  or  well,  she  never  raised  it  until  she  had  drained 
the  last  drop  of  water;  but  then  in  return  she  yielded  milk 
enough  to  supply  the  whole  tribe.  As,  however,  she  frightened 
the  other  camels  from  the  pasture,  she  became  an  object  of 
offence  to  the  Thamudites,  who  hamstrung  and  slew  her. 
Upon  this  there  was  a  f earful  cry  from  heaven,  and  great  claps 
of  thunder,  and  in  the  morning  all  the  offenders  were  found 
lying  on  their  faces,  dead.  Thus  the  whole  race  was  swept 
from  the  earth,  and  their  country  was  laid  forever  afterward 
under  the  ban  of  heaven. 

This  story  made  a  powerful  impression  on  the  mind  of  Ma- 
homet, insomuch  that  in  after  years  he  refused  to  let  his 
people  encamp  in  the  neighborhood,  but  hurried  them  away 
from  it  as  an  accursed  region. 

Another  tradition,  gathered  on  this  journey,  related  to  the 
city  of  Eyla,  situated  near  the  Red  Sea.     This  place,  he  was 


34  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

told,  had  been  inhabited  in  old  times  by  a  tribe  of  Jews,  who 
lapsed  into  idolatry  and  profaned  the  Sabbath,  by  fishing  on 
that  sacred  day;  whereupon  the  old  men  were  transformed 
into  swine,  and  the  young  men  into  monkeys. 

We  have  noted  these  two  traditions  especially  because  they 
are  both  cited  by  Mahomet  as  instances  of  divine  judgment  on 
the  crime  of  idolatry,  and  evince  the  bias  his  youthful  mind 
was  already  taking  on  that  important  subject. 

Moslem  writers  tell  us,  as  usual,  of  wonderful  circumstances 
which  attended  the  youth  throughout  this  journey,  giving 
evidence  of  the  continual  guardianship  of  heaven.  At  one 
time,  as  he  traversed  the  burning  sands  of  the  desert,  an  angel 
hovered  over  him  unseen,  sheltering  him  with  his  wings;  a 
miracle,  however,  which  evidently  does  not  rest  on  the  evi- 
dence of  an  eye-witness ;  at  another  time  he  was  protected  by 
a  cloud  which  hung  over  his  head  during  the  noontide  heat ; 
and  on  another  occasion,  as  he  sought  the  scanty  shade  of  a 
withered  tree,  it  suddenly  put  forth  leaves  and  blossoms. 

After  skirting  the  ancient  domains  of  the  Moabites  and  the 
Ammonites,  often  mentioned  in  the  sacred  Scriptures,  the 
caravan  arrived  at  Bosra,  or  Bostra,  on  the  confines  of  Syria, 
in  the  country  of  the  tribe  of  Manasseh,  beyond  the  Jordan. 
In  Scripture  days  it  had  been  a  city  of  the  Levites,  but  now 
was  inhabited  by  Nestorian  Christians.  It  was  a  great  mart, 
annually  visited  by  the  caravans;  and  here  our  wayfarers 
came  to  a  halt,  and  encamped  near  a  convent  of  Nestorian 
monks. 

By  this  fraternity  Abu  Taleb  and  his  nephew  were  enter- 
tained with  great  hospitality.  One  of  the  monks,  by  some 
called  Sergius,  by  others  Bahira,*  on  conversing  with  Ma- 
homet, was  surprised  at  the  precocity  of  his  intellect,  and 
interested  by  his  eager  desire  for  information,  which  appears 
to  have  had  reference,  principally,  to  matters  of  religion. 
They  had  frequent  conversations  together  on  such  subjects, 
in  the  course  of  which  the  efforts  of  the  monk  must  have  been 
mainly  directed  against  that  idolatry  in  which  the  youthful 
Mahomet  had  hitherto  been  educated ;  for  the  Nestorian  Chris- 
tians were  strenuous  in  condemning  not  merely  the  worship 
of  images,  but  even  the  casual  exhibition  of  them ;  indeed,  so 
far  did  they  carry  their  scruples  on  this  point,  that  even  the 


*  Some  assert  that  these  two  names  indicate  two  monks  who  held  conversations 
*7ith  Mahomet. 


FIRST  JOURNEY  OF  MAHOMET.  35 

cross,  that  general  emblem  of  Christianity,  was  in  a  great 
degree  included  in  this  prohibition. 

Many  have  ascribed  that  knowledge  of  the  principles  and 
traditions  of  the  Christian  faith  displayed  by  Mahomet  in 
after  life,  to  those  early  conversations  with  this  monk ;  it  is 
probable,  however,  that  he  had  further  intercourse  with  the 
latter  in  the  course  of  subsequent  visits  which  he  made  to 
Syria. 

Moslem  writers  pretend  that  the  interest  taken  by  the  monk 
in  the  youthful  stranger  arose  from  his  having  accident  a  I  ly 
perceived  between  his  shoulders  the  seal  of  prophecy.  He 
warned  Abu  Taleb,  say  they,  when  about  to  set  out  on  his 
return  to  Mecca,  to  take  care  that  his  nephew  did  not  fall  into 
the  hands  of  the  Jews ;  foreseeing  with  the  eye  of  prophecy 
the  trouble  and  opposition  he  was  to  encounter  from  that 
people. 

It  required  no  miraculous  sign,  however,  to  interest  a  secta- 
rian monk,  anxious  to  make  proselytes,  in  an  intelligent  and 
inquiring  youth,  nephew  of  the  guardian  of  the  Caaba,  who 
might  carry  back  with  him  to  Mecca  the  seeds  of  Christianity 
sown  in  his  tender  mind ;  and  it  was  natural  that  the  monk 
should  be  eager  to  prevent  his  hoped-for  convert,  in  the  pres- 
ent unsettled  state  of  his  religious  opinions,  from  being  be- 
guiled into  the  Jewish  faith. 

Mahomet  returned  to  Mecca,  his  imagination  teeming  with 
the  wild  tales  and  traditions  picked  up  in  the  desert,  and  his 
mind  deeply  impressed  with  the  doctrines  imparted  to  him  in 
the  Nestorian  convent.  He  seems  ever  afterward  to  have 
entertained  a  mysterious  reverence  for  Syria,  probably  from 
the  religious  impressions  received  there.  It  was  the  land 
whither  Abraham  the  patriarch  had  repaired  from  Chaldea, 
taking  with  him  the  primitive  worship  of  the  one  true  God. 
"  Verily,"  he  used  to  say  in  after  years,  "  God  has  ever  main- 
tained guardians  of  his  word  in  Syria ;  forty  in  number ;  when 
one  dies  another  is  sent  in  his  room;  and  through  them  the 
land  is  blessed."  And  again:  "Joy  be  to  the  people  of  Syria, 
for  the  angels  of  the  kind  God  spread  their  wings  over  them."* 

Note — The  conversion  of  Abraham  from  the  idolatry  into  which  the  world  had 
fallen  after  the  deluge  is  related  in  the  sixth  chapter  of  the  Koran.  Abraham's 
father,  Azer,  or  Zerah,  as  his  name  is  given  in  the  Scriptures,  was  a  statuary  and  an 
idolater. 

■ —     q 

*  Mischat-ul  Masabih,  vol.  ii.  p.  812. 


36  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

"  And  Abraham  said  unto  his  father  Azer,  '  Why  dost  thou  take  graven  images 
for  gods?    Verily,  thou  and  thy  people  are  in  error.1 

"  Then  was  the  Armament  of  heaven  displayed  unto  Abraham,  that  he  might  see 
how  the  world  was  governed. 

"  When  night  came,  and  darkness  overshadowed  the  earth,  he  beheld  a  bright 
star  shining  in  the  firmament,  and  cried  out  to  his  people  who  were  astrologers, 
'This,  according  to  your  assertions,  is  the  Lord.' 

"  But  the  star  set,  and  Abraham  said,  '  I  have  no  faith  in  gods  that  set ' 

"  He  beheld  the  moon  rising,  and  exclaimed,  'Assuredly,  this  is  the  Lord.'  But 
the  moon  likewise  set,  and  he  was  confounded,  and  prayed  unto  God,  saying, 
Direct  me,  lest  I  become  as  one  of  these  people,  who  go  astray.' 

"When  he  saw  the  sun  rising,  he  cried  out,  'This  is  the  most  glorious  of  all;  this 
of  a  certainty  is  the  Lord.'  But  the  sun  also  set.  Tben  said  Abraham,  'I  believe 
not,  oh  my  people,  in  those  things  which  ye  call  gods.  Verily,  I  turn  my  face  unto 
Him,  the  Creator,  who  hath  formed  both  the  heavens  and  the  earth.'  " 


CHAPTER  V. 


COMMERCIAL    OCCUPATIONS    OF    MAHOMET— HIS    MARRIAGE    WITH 

CADIJAH. 

Mahomet  was  now  completely  launched  in  active  life,  ac- 
companying his  uncles  in  various  expeditions.  At  one  time, 
when  about  sixteen  years  of  age,  we  find  him  with  his  uncle 
Zobier,  journeying  with  the  caravan  to  Yemen;  at  another 
time  acting  as  armor-bearer  to  the  same  uncle,  who  led  a  war- 
like expedition  of  Koreishites  in  aid  of  the  Henanites  against 
the  tribe  of  Hawazan.  This  is  cited  as  Mahomet's  first  essay 
in  arms,  though  he  did  little  else  than  supply  his  uncle  with 
arrows  in  the  heat  of  the  action,  and  shield  him  from  the  darts 
of  the  enemy.  It  is  stigmatized  among  Arabian  writers  as 
al  Fadjar,  or  the  impious  war,  having  been  carried  on  during 
the  sacred  months  of  pilgrimage. 

As  Mahomet  advanced  in  years  he  was  employed  by  different 
persons  as  commercial  agent  or  factor  in  caravan  journeys  to 
Syria,  Yemen,  and  elsewhere ;  all  which  tended  to  enlarge  the 
sphere  of  his  observation,  and  to  give  him  a  quick  insight  into 
character  and  a  knowledge  of  human  affairs. 

He  was  a  frequent  attender  of  fairs  also,  which,  in  Arabia, 
were  not  always  mere  resorts  of  traffic,  but  occasionally  scenes 
of  poetical  contests  between  different  tribes,  where  prizes  were 
adjudged  to  the  victors,  an:l  their  prize  poems  treasured  up  in 
the  archives  of  princes.  Such,  especially,  was  the  case  with 
the  fair  of  Ocadh;  and  seven  of  the  prize  poems  adjudged. 


COMMERCIAL   OCCUPATIONS  OF  MAHOMET.  37 

there  were  hung  up  as  trophies  in  the  Caaba.  At  these  fairs, 
also,  were  recited  the  popular  traditions  of  the  Arabs,  and  incul- 
cated the  various  religious  faiths  which  were  afloat  in  Arabia. 
Froni  oral  sources  of  this  kind  Mahomet  gradually  accum- 
ulated much  of  that  varied  information  as  to  creeds  and  doc- 
trines which  he  afterward  displayed. 

There  was  at  this  time  residing  in  Mecca  a  widow,  named 
Cadijah  (or  Khadijah),  of  the  tribe  of  Koreish.  She  had  been 
twice  married.  Her  last  husband,  a  wealthy  merchant,  had 
recently  died,  and  the  extensive  concerns  of  the  house  were  in 
need  of  a  conductor.  A  nephew  of  the  widow,  named  Chu- 
zima,  had  become  acquainted  with  Mahomet  in  the  course  of 
his  commercial  expeditions,  and  had  noticed  the  ability  and 
integrity  with  which  he  acquitted  himself  on  all  occasions. 
He  pointed  him  out  to  his  aunt  as  a  person  well  qualified  to 
be  her  factor.  The  personal  appearance  of  Mahomet  may  have 
strongly  seconded  this  recommendation ;  for  he  was  now  about 
twenty-five  years  of  age,  and  extolled  by  Arabian  writers  for 
his  manly  beauty  and  engaging  manners.  So  desirous  was 
Cadijah  of  securing  his  services,  that  she  offered  him  double 
wages  to  conduct  a  caravan  which  she  was  on  the  point  of 
sending  off  to  Syria.  Mahomet  consulted  his  uncle  Abu  Taleb, 
and  by  his  advice  accepted  the  offer.  He  was  accompanied 
and  aided  in  the  expedition  by  the  nephew  of  the  widow,  and 
by  her  slave  Maisara,  and  so  highly  satisfied  was  Cadijah  with 
the  way  in  which  he  discharged  his  duties,  that,  on  his  return, 
she  paid  him  double  the  amount  of  his  stipulated  wages.  She 
afterward  sent  him  to  the  southern  parts  of  Arabia  on  simdar 
expeditions,  in  all  which  he  gave  hke  satisfaction. 

Cadijah  was  now  in  her  fortieth  year,  a  woman  of  judgment 
and  experience.  The  mental  qualities  of  Mahomet  rose  more 
and  more  in  her  estimation,  and  her  heart  began  to  yearn 
toward  the  fresh  and  comely  youth.  According  to  Arabian 
legends,  a  miracle  occurred  most  opportunely  to  confirm  and 
sanctify  the  bias  of  her  inclinations.  She  was  one  day  with  her 
handmaids,  at  the  hour  of  noon,  on  the  terraced  roof  of  her 
dwelling,  watching  the  arrival  of  a  caravan  conducted  by  Ma- 
homet. As  it  approached,  she  beheld,  with  astonishment,  two 
angels  overshadowing  him  with  their  wings  to  protect  him 
from  the  sun.  Turning,  with  emotion,  to  her  handmaids,  ' '  Be- 
hold!" said  she,  u  the  beloved  of  Allah,  who  sends  two  angeis 
to  watch  over  him!" 

Whether  or  not  the  handmaidens  looked  forth  with  the  same 


38  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS 

eyes  of  devotion  as  their  mistress,  and  likewise  discerned  the 
angels,  the  legend  does  not  mention.  Suffice  it  to  say,  the 
widow  was  filled  with  a  lively  faith  in  the  superhuman  merits 
of  her  youthful  steward,  and  forthwith  commissioned  her 
trusty  slave,  Maisara,  to  offer  him  her  hand.  The  negotiation 
is  recorded  with  simple  brevity.  "Mahomet,"  demanded  Mai- 
sara, "  why  dost  thou  not  marry?"  "I  have  not  the  means," 
replied  Mahomet.  ' '  Well,  but  if  a  wealthy  dame  should  offer 
thee  her  hand ;  one  also  who  is  handsome  and  of  high  birth  ?" 
"And  who  is  she?"  "  Cadijah !"  "How  is  that  possible?"  "Let 
me  manage  it. "  Maisara  returned  to  his  mistress  and  reported 
what  had  passed.  An  hour  was  appointed  for  an  interview, 
and  the  affair  was  brought  to  a  satisfactory  arrangement  with 
that  promptness  and  sagacity  which  had  distinguished  Ma- 
homet in  all  his  dealings  with  the  widow.  The  father  of  Cadi- 
jah made  some  opposition  to  the  match,  on  account  of  the 
poverty  of  Mahomet,  following  the  common  notion  that  wealth 
should  be  added  to  wealth ;  but  the  widow  wisely  considered 
her  riches  only  as  the  means  of  enabling  her  to  follow  the  dic- 
tates of  her  heart.  She  gave  a  great  feast,  to  which  were  in- 
vited her  father  and  the  rest  of  her  relatives,  and  Mahomet's 
uncles  Abu  Taleb  and  Hamza,  together  with  several  others 
of  the  Koreishites.  At  this  banquet  wine  was  served  in  abun- 
dance, and  soon  diffused  good  humor  round  the  board.  The 
objections  to  Mahomet's  poverty  were  forgotten;  speeches 
were  made  by  Abu  Taleb  on  the  one  side,  and  by  Waraka,  a 
kinsman  of  Cadijah,  on  the  other,  in  praise  of  the  proposed 
nuptials ;  the  dowry  was  arranged,  and  the  marriage  formally 
concluded. 

Mahomet  then  caused  a  camel  to  be  killed  before  his  door, 
and  the  flesh  distributed  among  the  poor.  The  house  was 
thrown  open  to  all  comers;  the  female  slaves  of  Cadijah 
danced  to  the  sound  of  timbrels,  and  all  was  revelry  and  re- 
joicing. Abu  Taleb,  forgetting  his  age  and  his  habitual  melan- 
choly, made  merry  on  the  occasion.  He  had  paid  down  from 
his  purse  a  dower  of  twelve  and  a  hair  okks  of  gold,  equivalent 
to  twenty  young  camels.  Halema,  who  had  nursed  Mahomet 
in  his  infancy,  was  summoned  to  rejoice  at  his  nuptials,  and 
was  presented  with  a  flock  of  forty  sheep,  with  which  she  re- 
turned, enriched  and  contented,  to  her  native  valley,  in  the 
desert  of  the  Saadites. 


CONDUCT  OF  MAHOMET  AFTER  HIS   MAliRlAQR     39 


CHAPTER  VI. 

CONDUCT  OP  MAHOMET  AFTER  HIS  MARRIAGE — BECOMES  ANXIOUS 
FOR  RELIOIOUS  REFORM— HIS  HABITS  OF  SOLITARY  ABSTRAC- 
TION— THE  VISION  OF  THE  CAVE — HIS  ANNUNCIATION  AS  A 
PROPHET. 

The  marriage  with  Cadijah  placed  Mahomet  among  the 
most  wealthy  of  his  native  city.  His  moral  worth  also  gave 
him  great  influence  in  the  community.  Allah,  says  the  his- 
torian Abulfeda,  had  endowed  him  with  every  gift  necessary 
to  accomplish  and  adorn  an  honest  man ;  he  was  so  pure  and 
sincere;  so  free  from  every  evil  thought,  that  he  was  com- 
monly known  by  the  name  of  Al  Amin,  or  The  Faithful. 

The  great  confidence  reposed  in  his  judgment  and  probity 
caused  him  to  be  frequently  referred  to  as  arbiter  in  disputes 
between  his  townsmen.  An  anecdote  is  given  as  illustrative  of 
his  sagacity  on  such  occasions.  The  Caaba  having  been  in- 
jured by  fire,  was  undergoing  repairs,  in  the  course  of  which 
the  sacred  black  stone  was  to  be  replaced.  A  dispute  arose 
among  the  chiefs  of  the  various  tribes,  as  to  which  was  en- 
titled to  perform  so  august  an  office,  and  they  agreed  to  abide 
by  the  decision  of  the  first  person  who  should  enter  by  the 
gate  al  Haram.  That  person  happened  to  be  Mahomet.  Upon 
hearing  their  different  claims,  he  directed  that  a  great  cloth 
should  be  spread  upon  the  ground,  and  the  stone  laid  thereon ; 
and  that  a  man  from  each  tribe  should  take  hold  of  the  border 
of  the  cloth.  In  this  way  the  sacred  stone  was  raised  equally 
and  at  the  same  time  by  them  all  to  a  level  with  its  allotted 
place,  in  which  Mahomet  fixed  it  with  his  own  hands. 

Four  daughters  and  one  son  were  the  fruit  of  the  marriage 
with  Cadijah.  The  son  was  named  Kasim,  whence  Mahomet 
was  occasionally  called  Abu  Kasim,  or  the  father  of  Kasim, 
according  to  Arabian  nomenclature.  This  son,  however,  died 
in  his  infancy. 

For  several  years  after  his  marriage  he  continued  in  com- 
merce, visiting  the  great  Arabian  fairs,  and  making  distant 
journeys  with  the  caravans.  His  expeditions  were  not  as 
profitable  as  in  the  days  of  his  stewardship,  and  the  wealth 
acquired   with    his  wife    diminished    rather    than    increased 


40  MAHOMET  AND  HiS  SUCCESSORS. 

in  the  course  of  his  operations.  That  wealth,  in  fact,  had 
raised  him  above  the  necessity  of  toiling  for  subsistence,  and 
given  him  leisure  to  indulge  the  original  bias  of  his  mind ;  a 
turn  for  reverie  and  religious  speculation,  which  he  had 
evinced  from  his  earliest  years.  This  had  been  fostered  in  the 
course  of  his  journey ings,  by  his  intercourse  with  Jews  and 
Christians,  originally  fugitives  from  persecution,  but  now 
gathered  into  tribes,  or  forming  part  of  the  population  of 
cities.  The  Arabian  deserts,  too,  rife  as  we  have  shown  them 
with  fanciful  superstitions,  had  furnished  aliment  for  his 
enthusiastic  reveries.  Since  his  marriage  with  Cadijah,  also, 
he  had  a  household  oracle  to  influence  him  in  his  religious 
opinions.  This  was  his  wife's  cousin  Waraka,  a  man  of  specu- 
lative mind  and  flexible  faith ;  originally  a  Jew,  subsequently 
a  Christian,  and  withal  a  pretender  to  astrology.  He  is 
worthy  of  note  as  being  the  first  on  record  to  translate  parts 
of  the  Old  and  New  Testament  into  Arabic.  From  him 
Mahomet  is  supposed  to  have  derived  much  of  his  information 
respecting  those  writings,  and  many  of  the  traditions  of  the 
Mishnu  and  the  Talmud,  on  which  he  draws  so  copiously  in 
his  Koran. 

The  knowledge  thus  variously  acquired  and  treasured  up  in 
an  uncommonly  retentive  memory,  was  in  direct  hostility  to 
the  gross  idolatry  prevalent  in  Arabia,  and  practised  at  the 
Caaba.  That  sacred  edifice  had  gradually  become  filled  and 
surrounded  by  idols,  to  the  number  of  three  hundred  and 
sixty,  being  one  for  every  day  of  the  Arab  year.  Hither  had 
been  brought  idols  from  various  parts,  the  deities  of  other 
nations,  the  chief  of  which,  Hobal,  was  from  Syria,  and  sup- 
posed to  have  the  power  of  giving  rain.  Among  these  idols,  too, 
were  Abraham  and  Ishmael,  once  revered  as  prophets  and  pro- 
genitors, now  represented  with  divining  arrows  in  their  hands, 
symbols  of  magic. 

Mahomet  became  more  and  more  sensible  of  the  grossness 
and  absurdity  of  this  idolatry,  in  proportion  as  his  intelligent 
mind  contrasted  it  with  the  spiritual  religions,  which  had 
been  the  subjects  of  his  inquiries.  Various  passages  in  the 
Koran  show  the  ruling  idea  which  gradually  sprang  up  in  his 
mind,  until  it  engrossed  his  thoughts  and  influenced  all  his 
actions.  That  idea  was  a  religious  reform.  It  had  become  his 
fixed  belief,  deduced  from  all  that  he  had  learned  and  medi- 
tated, that  the  only  true  religion  had  been  revealed  to  Adam 
at  his  creation,  and  been  promulgated  and  practised  in  the 


CONDUCT  Ob   MAHOMET  AFTER  HIS  MARRIAGE.     41 

days  of  innocence.  That  religion  inculcated  the  direct  and 
spiritual  worship  of  one  true  and  only  God,  the  creator  of  the 
universe. 

It  was  his  belief,  furthermore,  that  this  religion,  so  elevated 
and  simple,  had  repeatedly  been  corrupted  and  debased  by 
man,  and  especially  outraged  by  idolatry;  wherefore  a  suc- 
cession of  prophets,  each  inspired  by  a  revelation  from  the 
Most  High,  had  been  sent  from  time  to  time,  and  at  distant 
periods,  to  restore  it  to  its  original  purity.  Such  was  Noah, 
such  was  Abraham,  such  was  Moses,  and  such  was  Jesus  Christ. 
By  each  of  these  the  true  religion  had  been  reinstated  upon 
earth,  but  had  again  been  vitiated  by  their  followers.  The 
faith  as  taught  and  practised  by  Abraham  when  he  came  out 
of  the  land  of  Chaldea  seems  especially  to  have  formed  a  re- 
ligious standard  in  his  mind,  from  his  veneration  for  the 
patriarch  as  the  father  of  Ishmael,  the  progenitor  of  his  race. 

It  appeared  to  Mahomet  that  the  time  for  another  reform 
was  again  arrived.  The  world  had  once  more  lapsed  into 
blind  idolatry.  It  needed  the  advent  of  another  prophet, 
authorized  by  a  mandate  from  on  high,  to  restore  the  erring 
children  of  men  to  the  right  path,  and  to  bring  back  the 
worship  of  the  Caaba  to  what  it  had  been  in  the  days  of 
Abraham  and  the  patriarchs.  The  probability  of  such  an 
advent,  with  its  attendant  reforms,  seems  to  have  taken  pos- 
session of  his  mind,  and  produced  habits  of  reverie  and  medi- 
tation, incompatible  with  the  ordinary  concerns  of  life  and  the 
bustle  of  the  world.  We  are  told  that  he  gradually  absented 
himself  from  society,  and  sought  the  solitude  of  a  cavern  on 
Mount  Hara,  about  three  leagues  north  of  Mecca,  where,  in 
emulation  of  the  Christian  anchorites  of  the  desert,  he  would 
remain  days  and  nights  together,  engaged  in  prayer  and  medi- 
tation. In  this  way  he  always  passed  the  month  of  Ramad- 
han,  the  holy  month  of  the  Arabs.  Such  intense  occupation 
of  the  mind  on  one  subject,  accompanied  by  fervent  enthu- 
siasm of  spirit,  could  not  but  have  a  powerful  effect  upon  his 
frame.  He  became  subject  to  dreams,  to  ecstasies  and  trances. 
For  six  months  successively,  according  to  one  of  his  histo- 
rians, he  had  constant  dreams  bearing  on  the  subject  of  his 
waking  thoughts.  Often  he  woidd  lose  all  consciousness  of 
surrounding  objects,  and  lie  upon  the  ground  as  if  insensible. 
Cadijah,  who  was  sometimes  the  faithful  companion  of  his 
solitude,  beheld  these  paroxysms  with  anxious  solicitude,  and 
entreated  to  know  the  cause ;  but  he  evaded  her  inquiries,  or 


42  MAHOMET  AND  UIS  SUCCESSORS. 

answered  theni  mysteriously.  Some  of  his  adversaries  have 
attributed  them  to  epilepsy,  but  devout  Moslems  declare  them 
to  have  been  the  workings  of  prophecy ;  for  already,  say  they, 
the  intimations  of  the  Most  High  began  to  dawn,  though 
vaguely,  on  his  spirit ;  and  his  mind  labored  with  conceptions 
too  great  for  mortal  thought.  At  length,  say  they,  what  had 
hitherto  been  shadowed  out  in  dreams,  was  made  apparent 
and  distinct  by  an  angelic  apparition  and  a  divine  annun- 
ciation. 

It  was  in  the  fortieth  year  of  his  age  when  this  famous 
revelation  took  place.  Accounts  are  given  of  it  by  Moslem 
writers  as  if  received  from  his  own  lips,  and  it  is  alluded  to  in 
certain  passages  of  the  Koran.  He  was  passing,  as  was  his 
wont,  the  month  of  Ramadhan  in  the  cavern  of  Mount  Hara, 
endeavoring  by  fasting,  prayer,  and  solitary  meditation,  to 
elevate  his  thoughts  to  the  contemplation  of  divine  truth.  It 
was  on  the  night  called  by  Arabs  Al  Kader,  or  the  Divine 
Deci'ee;  a  night  in  which,  according  to  the  Koran,  angels  de- 
scend to  earth,  and  Gabriel  brings  down  the  decrees  of  God. 
During  that  night  there  is  peace  on  earth,  and  a  holy  quiet 
reigns  over  all  nature  until  the  rising  of  the  morn. 

As  Mahomet,  in  the  silent  watches  of  the  night,  lay  wrapped 
in  his  mantle,  he  heard  a  voice  calling  upon  him ;  uncovering 
his  head,  a  flood  of  light  broke  upon  him  of  such  intolerable 
splendor  that  he  swooned  away.  On  regaining  his  senses,  he 
beheld  an  angel  in  a  human  form,  which,  approaching  from  a 
distance,  displayed  a  silken  cloth  covered  with  written  charac- 
ters.    "Read !"  said  the  angel. 

"  I  know  not  how  to  read !"  replied  Mahomet. 

" Read!"  repeated  the  angel,  "in  the  name  of  the  Lord,  who 
has  created  all  things ;  who  created  man  from  a  clot  of  blood. 
Read  in  the  name  of  the  Most  High,  who  taught  man  the  use 
of  the  pen ;  who  sheds  on  his  soul  the  ray  of  knowledge,  and 
teaches  him  what  before  he  knew  not." 

Upon  this  Mahomet  instantly  felt  his  understanding  illum- 
ined with  celestial  light,  and  read  what  was  written  on  the 
cloth,  which  contained  the  decrees  of  God,  as  afterward  pro- 
mulgated in  the  Koran.  When  he  had  finished  the  perusal, 
the  heavenly  messenger  announced,  "Oh,  Mahomet,  of  a 
verity,  thou  art  the  prophet  of  ~God !  and  I  am  his  angel 
Gabriel !" 

Mahomet,  we  are  told,  came  trembling  and  agitated  to  Cadi 
jah  in  the  morning,  not  knowing  whether  what  he  had  heard 


CONDUCT  OF  MAHOMET  AFTER  HIS  MARRIAGE.     43 

and  seen  was  indeed  true,  and  that  he  was  a  prophet  decreed 
to  effect  that  reform  so  long  the  object  of  his  meditations ;  or 
whether  it  might  not  be  a  mere  vision,  a  delusion  of  the 
senses,  or,  worse  than  all,  the  apparition  of  an  evil  spirit. 

Cadijah,  however,  saw  everything  with  the  eye  of  faith,  and 
the  credulity  of  an  affectionate  woman.  She  saw  in  it  the 
fruition  of  her  husband's  wishes,  and  the  end  of  his  paroxysms 
and  privations.  "Joyful  tidings  dost  thou  bring !"  exclaimed 
she.  "By  him,  in  whose  hand  is  the  soul  of  Cadijah,  I  will 
henceforth  regard  thee  as  the  prophet  of  our  nation.  Be- 
joice,"  added  she,  seeing  him  still  cast  down;  "Allah  will  not 
suffer  thee  to  fall  to  shame.  Hast  thou  not  been  loving  to  thy 
kinsfolk,  kind  to  thy  neighbors,  charitable  to  the  poor,  hospi- 
table to  the  stranger,  faithful  to  thy  word,  and  ever  a  defender 
of  the  truth?" 

Cadijah  hastened  to  communicate  what  she  had  heard  to  her 
cousin  Waraka,  the  translator  of  the  Scriptures ;  who,  as  we 
have  shown,  had  been  a  household  oracle  of  Mahomet  in  mat- 
ters of  religion.  He  caught  at  once,  and  with  eagerness,  at 
this  miraculous  annunciation.  ' '  By  him  in  whose  hand  is  the 
soul  of  Waraka,"  exclaimed  he;  "  thou  speakest  true,  oh  Cadi- 
jah !  The  angel  who  has  appeared  to  thy  husband  is  the  same 
who,  in  days  of  old,  was  sent  to  Moses,  the  son  of  Amram. 
His  annunciation  is  true.    Thy  husband  is  indeed  a  prophet !" 

The  zealous  concurrence  of  the  learned  Waraka  is  said  to 
have  had  a  powerful  effect  in  fortifying  the  dubious  mind  of 
Mahomet. 

Note. — Dr.  Gustav  Weil,  in  a  note  to  Mohammed  der  Prophet,  discusses  the  ques- 
tion of  Mahomet's  being  subject  to  attacks  of  epilepsy ;  which  has  generally  been 
represented  as  a  slander  of  his  enemies  and  of  Christian  writers.  It  appears,  how- 
ever, to  have  been  asserted  by  some  of  the  oldest  Moslem  biographers,  and  given 
on  the  authority  of  persons  about  him.  lie  woidd  be  seized,  they  said,  with  violent 
trembling  followed  by  a  kind  of  swoon,  or  rather  convulsion,  during  which  perspira- 
tion would  stream  from  his  forehead  in  the  coldest  weather:  he  would  lie  with  his 
eyes  closed,  foaming  at  the  mouth,  and  bellowing  like  a  young  camel.  Ayesha,  one 
of  his  wives,  and  Zeid,  one  of  his  disciples,  are  among  the  persons  cited  as  testify- 
ing to  that  effect.  They  considered  him  at  such  times  as  under  the  influence  of  a 
revelation.  He  had  such  attacks,  however,  in  Mecca,  before  the  Koran  was  re- 
vealed to  him.  Cadijah  feared  that  he  was  possessed  by  evil  spirits,  and  would 
have  called  in  the  aid  of  a  conjuror  to  exorcise  them,  but  he  forbade  her.  He  did 
not  like  that  any  one  should  see  him  during  these  paroxysms.  His  visions,  how- 
ever, were  not  always  preceded  by  sucli  attacks.  Hareth  Ibn  Haschem,  it  is  said, 
once  asked  him  in  what  manner  the  revelations  were  made.  "  Often,"  replied  he, 
"  the  angel  appears  to  me  in  a  human  form,  and  speaks  to  me.  Sometimes  I  hear 
sounds  like  the  tinkling  of  a  bell,  but  see  nothing.  [A  ringing  in  the  ears  is  a 
symptom  of  epilepsy.]  When  the  invisible  angel  has  departed,  I  am  possessed  of 
what  he  has  revealed."    Some  of  his  revelations  he  professed  to  receive  direct 


44  MAHOMET  AND   HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

from  God,  others  in  dreams;  for  the  dreams  of  prophets,  he  used  to  say,  are 
revelations. 

The  reader  will  find  this  note  of  service  in  throwing  some  degree  of  light  upon 
the  enigmatical  career  of  this  extraordinary  man. 


CHAPTER  TIL 

MAHOMET  INCULCATES  HIS  DOCTRINES  SECRETLY  AND  SLOWLY— 
RECEIVES  FURTHER  REVELATION'S  AND  COMMANDS— ANNOUNCES 
IT  TO  HIS  KTNDRED — MANNER  LN  WHICH  IT  WAS  RECEIVED- 
ENTHUSIASTIC  DEVOTION  OF  ALI — CHRISTIAN  PORTENTS. 

For  a  time  Mahomet  confided  his  revelations  merely  to  his 
own  household.  One  of  the  first  to  avow  himself  a  believer 
was  his  servant  Zeid.  an  Arab  of  the  tribe  of  Kalb.  This  youth 
had  been  captured  in  childhood  by  a  freebooting  party  of 
Koreishites.  and  had  come  by  purchase  or  lot  into  the  posses- 
sion of  Mahomet.  Several  years  afterward  his  father,  hearing 
of  his  being  in  Mecca,  repaired  thither,  and  offered  a  consider- 
able sum  for  his  ransorn.  "  If  he  chooses  to  go  with  thee,"' 
said  Mahomet.  ' '  he  shall  go  without  ransom ;  but  if  he  chooses 
to  remain  with  me.  why  shoidd  I  not  keep  him?"  Zeid  pre- 
ferred to  remain,  having  ever,  he  said,  been  treated  more  as  a 
son  than  as  a  slave.  Upon  this,  Mahomet  publicly  adopted 
him.  and  he  had  ever  since  remained  with  him  in  affectionate 
servitude.  Now,  on  embracing  the  new  faith,  he  was  set 
entirely  free,  but  it  will  be  found  that  he  continued  through 
life  that  devoted  attachment  which  Mahomet  seems  to  have 
had  the  gift  of  inspiring  in  his  followers  and  dependents. 

The  early  steps  of  Mahomet  in  his  prophetic  career  were 
perilous  and  doubtful,  and  taken  in  secrecy.  He  had  hostility 
to  apprehend  on  every  side :  from  his  immediate  kindred,  the 
Koreishites  of  the  line  of  Haschem,  whose  power  and  pros- 
perity were  identified  with  idolatry ;  and  still  more  from  the 
rival  line  of  Abd  Schems.  who  had  long  looked  with  envy  and 
jealousy  on  the  Haschemites,  and  would  eagerly  raise  the  cry 
of  heresy  and  impiety  to  dispossess  them  of  the  guardianship 
of  the  Caaba.  At  the  head  of  this  rival  branch  of  Koreish  was 
Abu  Sofian.  the  son  of  Harb,  grandson  of  Omeya,  and  great- 
grandson  of  Abd  Schems.     He  was  an   able  and  ambitious 


DOCTRINES  OF  MAHOMET.  45 

man,  of  great  wealth  and  influence,  and  will  be  found  one  of 
the  most  persevering  and  powerful  opponents  of  Mahomet.* 

Under  these  adverse  circumstances  the  new  faith  was  propa- 
gated secretly  and  slowly,  insomuch  that  for  the  first  three 
years  the  number  of  converts  did  not  exceed  forty ;  these,  too, 
for  the  most  part,  were  young  persons,  strangers,  and  slaves. 
Their  meetings  for  prayer  were  held  in  private,  either  at  the 
house  of  one  of  the  initiated,  or  in  a  cave  near  Mecca.  Their 
secrecy,  however,  did  not  protect  them  from  outrage.  Their 
meetings  were  discovered;  a  rabble  broke  into  their  cavern, 
and  a  scuffle  ensued.  One  of  the  assailants  was  wounded  in 
the  head  by  Saad,  an  armorer,  thenceforth  renowned  among 
the  faithful  as  the  first  of  their  number  who  shed  blood  in  the 
cause  of  Islam. 

One  of  the  bitterest  opponents  of  Mahomet  was  his  uncle, 
Abu  Lahab,  a  wealthy  man,  of  proud  spirit  and  irritable  tem- 
per. His  son  Otha  had  married  Mahomet's  third  daughter, 
Eokaia,  so  that  they  were  doubly  allied.  Abu  Lahab,  how- 
ever, was  also  allied  to  the  rival  line  of  Koreish,  having  mar- 
ried Omm  Jemil,  sister  of  Abu  Sofian,  and  he  was  greatly 
under  the  control  of  his  wife  and  his  brother-in-law.  He  rep- 
robated what  he  termed  the  heresies  of  his  nephew,  as  calcu- 
lated to  bring  disgrace  upon  their  immediate  line,  and  to  draw 
upon  it  the  hostilities  of  the  rest  of  the  tribe  of  Koreish.  Ma- 
homet was  keenly  sensible  of  the  rancorous  opposition  of  this 
uncle,  winch  he  attributed  to  the  instigations  of  his  wife,  Omm 
Jemil.  He  especially  deplored  it,  as  he  saw  that  it  affected  the 
happiness  of  his  daughter  Eokaia,  whose  inclination  to  his  doc- 
trines brought  on  her  the  reproaches  of  her  husband  and  his 
family. 

These  and  other  causes  of  solicitude  preyed  upon  his  spirits, 
and  increased  the  perturbation  of  his  mind.  He  became  worn 
and  haggard,  and  subject  more  and  more  to  fits  of  abstraction. 
Those  of  Ms  relatives  who  were  attached  to  him  noticed  his 
altered  mien,  and  dreaded  an  attack  of  illness ;  others  scoff  - 
ingly  accused  him  of  mental  hallucination ;  and  the  foremost 


*  Niebuhr  (Travels,  vol.  11.)  speaks  of  the  tribe  of  Harb.  which  possessed  several 
cities,  and  a  number  of  villages  in  the  highlands  of  Hedjas,  a  mountainous  range 
between  Mecca  and  Medina.  They  have  castles  on  precipitous  rocks,  and  harass 
and  lay  under  contribution  the  caravans.  It  is  presumed  that  this  tribe  takes  its 
name  from  the  father  of  Abu  Sofian,  as  did  the  great  line  of  the  Omeyades  from 
his  grandfather. 


46  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

among  these  scoffers  was  her  uncle's  wife,  Omm  Jemil,  the 
sister  of  Abu  Sofian. 

The  result  of  this  disordered  state  of  mind  and  body  was  an 
other  vision,  or  revelation,  commanding  him  to  ' '  arise,  preach, 
and  magnify"  the  Lord. "  He  was  now  to  announce,  publicly 
and  boldly,  his  doctrines,  beginning  with  his  kindred  and 
tribe.  Accordingly,  in  the  fourth  year  of  what  is  called  his 
mission,  he  summoned  all  the  Koreishites  of  the  line  of 
Haschem  to  meet  him  on  the  hill  of  Safa,  in  the  vicinity  of 
Mecca,  when  he  would  unfold  matters  important  to  their  wel- 
fare. They  assembled  there,  accordingly,  and  among  them 
came  Mahomet's  hostile  uncle,  Abu  Lahab,  and  with  him  his 
scoffing  wife,  Omm  Jemil.  Scarce  had  the  prophet  begun  to 
discourse  of  his  mission,  and  to  impart  his  revelations,  when 
Abu  Lahab  started  up  in  a  rage,  reviled  him  for  calling  them 
together  on  so  idle  an  errand,  and  catching  up  a  stone,  would 
have  hurled  it  at  him.  Mahomet  turned  upon  him  a  wither- 
ing look,  cursed  the  hand  thus  raised  in  menace,  and  predicted 
his  doom  to  the  fire  of  Jehennam ;  with  the  assurance  that  his 
wife,  Omm  Jemil,  would  bear  the  bundle  of  thorns  with  which 
the  fire  would  be  kindled. 

The  assembly  broke  up  in  confusion.  Abu  Lahab  and  his 
wife,  exasperated  at  the  curse  dealt  out  to  them,  compelled 
their  son,  Otha,  to  repudiate  his  wife,  Eokaia,  and  sent  her 
back  weeping  to  Mahomet.  She  was  soon  indemnified,  how- 
ever, by  having  a  husband  of  the  true  faith,  being  eagerly 
taken  to  wife  by  Mahomet's  zealous  disciple,  Ofchman  Ibn 
Affan. 

Nothing  discouraged  by  the  failure  of  his  first  attempt, 
Mahomet  called  a  second  meeting  of  the  Haschemites  at  his 
own  house,  where,  having  regaled  them  with  the  flesh  of  a 
lamb,  and  given  them  milk  to  drink,  he  stood  forth  and  an- 
nounced, at  full  length,  his  revelations  received  from  heaven, 
and  the  divine  command  to  impart  them  to  those  of  his  im- 
mediate line.  ' '  Oh,  chddren  of  Abd  al  Motalleb, "  cried  he,  with 
enthusiasm,  "to  you,  of  all  men,  has  Allah  vouchsafed  these 
most  precious  gifts.  In  his  name  I  offer  you  the  blessings  of 
this  world,  and  endless  joys  hereafter.  Who  among  you  will 
share  the  burden  of  my  offer?  Who  will  be  my  brother:  my 
lieutenant,  my  vizier?" 

z\ll  remained  silent;  some  wondering,  othei-s  smiling  with 
incredulity  and  derision.  At  length  Ali,  starting  up  with 
youthful  zeal,  offered  himself  to  the  service  of  the  prophet, 


DOCTMlMJUS  Ob'  MAHOMET.  4? 

though  modestly  acknowledging  his  youth  and  physical  weak' 
ness.*  Mahomet  threw  his  arms  round  the  generous  youth, 
and  pressed  him  to  his  bosom.  "Behold  my  brother,  my 
vizier,  my  vicegerent,"  exclaimed  he;  "let  all  listen  to  his 
words,  and  obey  him." 

The  outbreak  of  such  a  stripling  as  Ali,  however,  was  an- 
swered by  a  scornful  burst  of  laughter  of  the  Koreishites,  who 
taunted  Abu  Taleb,  the  father  of  the  youthful  proselyte,  with 
having  to  bow  down  before  his  son,  and  yield  him  obedience. 

But  though  the  doctrines  of  Mahomet  were  thus  ungra- 
ciously received  by  his  kindred  and  friends,  they  found  favor 
among  the  people  at  large,  especially  among  the  women,  who 
are  ever  prone  to  befriend  a  persecuted  cause.  Many  of  the 
Jews,  also,  followed  him  for  a  time,  but  when  they  found  that 
he  permitted  his  disciples  to  eat  the  flesh  of  the  camel,  and  of 
other  animals  forbidden  by  their  law,  they  drew  back  and  re- 
jected his  religion  as  unclean. 

Mahomet  now  threw  off  all  reserve,  or  rather  was  inspired 
with  increasing  enthusiasm,  and  went  about  openly  and 
earnestly  proclaiming  his  doctrines,  and  giving  himself  out  as 
a  prophet,  sent  by  God  to  put  an  end  to  idolatry,  and  to  miti- 
gate the  rigor  of  the  Jewish  and  the  Christian  law.  The  hills 
of  Safa  and  Eubeis,  sanctified  by  traditions  concerning  Hagar 
and  Ishmael,  were  his  favorite  places  of  preaching,  and  Mount 
Hara  was  his  Sinai,  whither  he  retired  occasionally,  in  fits  ot 
excitement  and  enthusiasm,  to  return  from  its  solitary  cave 
with  fresh  revelations  of  the  Koran. 

The  good  old  Christian  writers,  on  treating  of  the  advent  o£ 
one  whom  they  denounce  as  the  Arab  enemy  of  the  church, 
make  superstitious  record  of  divers  prodigies  which  occurred 
about  this  time,  awful  forerunners  of  the  troubles  about  to 
agitate  the  world.  In  Constantinople,  at  that  time  the  seat  of 
Christian  empire,  were  several  monstrous  births  and  prodigi- 
ous apparitions,  which  struck  dismay  into  the  hearts  of  all 
beholders.  In  certain  religious  processions  in  that  neighbor- 
hood, the  crosses  on  a  sudden  moved  of  themselves,  and  were 
violently  agitated,  causing  astonishment  and  terror.  The  Nile, 
too,  that  ancient  mother  of  wonders,  gave  birth  to  two  hideous 
forms,  seemingly  man   and   woman,  which   rose   out  of  its 


*  By  an  error  of  translators,  Ali  is  made  to  accompany  his  offer  of  adhesion  bj 
an  extravagant  threat  against  all  who  should  oppose  Mahomet. 


48  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS 

waters,  gazed  about  them  for  a  time  with  terrific  aspect,  and 
sank  again  beneath  the  waves.  For  a  whole  day  the  sun  ap 
peared  to  be  diminished  to  one  third  of  its  usual  size,  shedding 
pale  and  baleful  rays.  During  a  moonless  night  a  furnace 
light  glowed  throughout  the  heavens,  and  bloody  lances  glit- 
tered in  the  sky. 

All  these,  and  sundry  other  like  marvel^  were  interpreted 
into  signs  of  coming  troubles.  The  ancient  servants  of  God 
shook  their  heads  mournfully,  predicting  the  reign  of  anti- 
christ at  hand;  with  vehement  persecution  of  the  Christian 
faith,  and  great  desolation  of  the  churches ;  and  to  such  holy 
men  who  have  passed  through  the  trials  and  troubles  of  the 
faith,  adds  the  venerable  Padre  Jayme  Bleda,  it  is  given  to 
understand  and  explain  these  mysterious  portents,  which  fore- 
run disasters  of  the  church;  even  as  it  is  given  to  ancient 
mariners  to  read  in  the  signs  of  the  air,  the  heavens,  and  the 
deep,  the  coming  tempest  which  is  to  overwhelm  their  bark. 

Many  of  these  sainted  men  were  gathered  to  glory  before  the 
completion  of  their  prophecies.  There,  seated  securely  in  the 
empyreal  heavens,  they  may  have  looked  down  with  compas- 
sion upon  the  troubles  of  the  Christian  world ;  as  men  on  the 
serene  heights  of  mountains  look  down  upon  the  tempests 
which  sweep  the  earth  and  sea,  wrecking  tall  ships,  and  rend- 
ing lofty  towers. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

OUTLINES  OF  THE  MAHOMETAN  FAITH. 

Though  it  is  not  intended  in  this  place  to  go  fully  into  the 
doctrines  promulgated  by  Mahomet,  yet  it  is  important  to  the 
right  appreciation  of  his  character  and  conduct,  and  of  the 
events  and  circumstances  set  forth  in  the  following  narrative, 
to  give  their  main  features. 

It  must  be  particularly  borne  in  mind  that  Mahomet  did  not 
profess  to  set  up  a  new  religion ;  but  to  restore  that  derived,  in 
the  earliest  times,  from  God  himself.  "  We  follow,"  says  the 
Koran,  ''.the  religion  of  Abraham -4he  orthodox,  who  was  no 
idolater.  We  believe  in  God  and  that  which  hath  been  sent 
down  to  us,  and  that  which  hath  been  sent  down  unto  Abra- 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  49 

ham  and  Ishmael,  and  Isaac  and  Jacob  and  the  tribes,  and  that 
which  was  delivered  unto  Moses  and  Jesus,  and  that  which 
was  delivered  unto  the  prophets  from  the  Lord;  we  make 
no  distinction  between  any  of  them,  and  to  God  we  are  re- 
signed."* 

The  Koran,  t  which  was  the  great  book  of  his  faith,  was 
delivered  in  portions  from  time  to  time,  according  to  the  ex- 
citement of  his  feelings  or  the  exigency  of  circumstances.  It 
was  not  given  as  his  own  work,  but  as  a  divine  revelation ;  as 
the  very  words  of  God.  The  Deity  is  supposed  to  speak  in 
every  instance.  ' '  We  have  sent  thee  down  the  book  of  truth, 
confirming  the  scripture  which  was  revealed  before  it,  and 
preserving  the  same  in  its  purity."  J 

The  law  of  Moses,  it  was  said,  had  for  a  time  been  the  guide 
and  rule  of  human  conduct.  At  the  coming  of  Jesus  Christ  it 
was  superseded  by  the  Gospel ;  both  were  now  to  give  place 
to  the  Koran,  which  was  more  full  and  explicit  than  the  pre- 
ceding codes,  and  intended  to  reform  the  abuses  which  had 
crept  into  them  through  the  negligence  or  the  corruptions  of 
their  professors.  It  was  the  completion  of  the  law ;  after  it 
there  would  be  no  more  divine  revelations.  Mahomet  was  the 
last,  as  he  was  the  greatest,  of  the  line  of  prophets  sent  to 
make  known  the  will  of  God. 

The  unity  of  God  was  the  corner-stone  of  this  reformed  re- 
ligion. "There  is  no  God  but  God,"  was  its  leading  dogma. 
Hence  it  received  the  name  of  the  religion  of  Islam,  §  an  Ara- 
bian word,  implying  submission  to  God.  To  this  leading 
dogma  was  added,  ' '  Mahomet  is  the  prophet  of  God ;"  an  ad- 
dition authorized,  as  it  was  maintained,  by  the  divine  annun- 


*  Koran,  chap.  ii. 

+  Derived  from  the  Arabic  word  Kora,  to  read  or  teach. 

t  Koran,  ch.  v. 

§  Some  etymologists  derive  Islam  from  Salem  or  Aslama,  which  signifies  salva- 
tion. The  Christians  form  from  it  the  term  Islamism.  and  the  Jews  have  varied  it 
into  Ismailism,  which  they  intend  as  a  reproach,  and  an  allusion  to  the  origin  of  the 
Arabs  as  descendants  of  Ishmael. 

From  Islam  the  Arabians  drew  the  terms  Moslem  or  Muslem,  and  Musulman,  a 
professor  of  the  faith  of  Islam.  These  terms  are  in  the  singular  number  and  make 
Musliman  in  the  dual,  and  Muslimen  in  the  plural.  The  French  and  some  other 
nations  follow  the  idioms  of  their  own  languages  in  adopting  or  translating  the 
Arabic  terms,  and  form  the  plural  by  the  addition  of  the  letters;  writing  Musul- 
man and  Musulmans.  A  few  English  writers,  of  whom  Gibbon  is  the  chief,  have 
imitated  them,  imagining  that  they  were  following  the  Arabian  usage.  Most  Eng- 
lish authors,  however,  follow  the  idiom  of  their  own  language,  writing  Moslem  and 
Moslems,  Musulman  and  Musulmen;  this  usage  is  also  the  more  harmonious. 


50  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

ciation,  and  important  to  procure  a  ready  acceptation  of  his 
revelations. 

Besides  the  unity  of  God,  a  belief  was  inculcated  in  his 
angels  or  ministering  spirits;  in  his  prophets;  in  the  resur- 
rection of  the  body;  in  the  last  judgment  and  a  future  state  of 
rewards  and  punishments,  and  in  predestination.  Much  of 
the  Koran  may  be  traced  to  the  Bible,  the  Mishnu,  and  the 
Talmud  of  the  Jews,*  especially  its  wild  though  often  beauti- 
ful traditions  concerning  the  angels,  the  prophets,  the  patri- 
archs, and  the  good  and  evil  genii.  He  had  at  an  early  age 
imbibed  a  reverence  for  the  Jewish  faith,  his  mother,  it  is  sug- 
gested, having  been  of  that  religion. 

The  system  laid  down  in  the  Koran,  however,  was  essen- 
tially founded  on  the  Christian  doctrines  inculcated  in  the 
New  Testament ;  as  they  had  been  expounded  to  him  by  the 
Christian  sectarians  of  Arabia.  Our  Saviour  was  to  be  held 
in  the  highest  reverence  as  an  inspired  prophet,  the  greatest 
that  had  been  sent  before  the  time  of  Mahomet,  to  reform  the 
law ;  but  all  idea  of  his  divinity  was  rejected  as  impious,  and 
the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  was  denounced  as  an  outrage  on  the 
unity  of  God.  Both  were  pronounced  errors  and  interpola- 
tions of  the  expounders;  and  this,  it  will  be  observed,  was  the 
opinion  of  some  of  the  Arabian  sects  of  Christians. 

The  worship  of  saints  and  the  introduction  of  images  and 
paintings  representing  them,  were  condemned  as  idolatrous 
lapses  from  the  pure  faith  of  Christ,  and  such,  we  have  already 
observed,  were  the  tenets  of  the  Nestorians,  with  whom  Maho- 
met is  known  to  have  had  much  communication. 

All  pictures  representing  living  things  were  prohibited.  Ma- 
homet used  to  say  that  the  angels  would  not  enter  a  house  in 
which  there  were  such  pictures,  and  that  those  who  made  them 
would  be  sentenced,  in  the  next  world,  to  find  souls  for  them, 
or  be  punished. 

Most  of  the  benignant  precepts  of  our  Saviour  were  incorpo- 
rated in  the  Koran.     Frequent  almsgiving  was  enjoined  as  an 


*  The  Mishnu  of  the  Jews,  like  the  Sonna  of  the  Mahometans,  is  a  collection  of 
traditions  forming  the  Oral  law.  It  was  compiled  in  the  second  century  by  Judah 
Hakkodish,  a  learned  Jewish  Rabbi,  during  the  reign  of  Antoninus  Pius,  the  Roman 
Emperor. 

The  Jerusalem  Talmud  and  the  Babylonish  Talmud  are  both  commentaries  on 
the  Mishnu.  The  former  was  compiled  at  Jerusalem,  about  three  hundred  yeara 
after  Christ,  and  the  latter  in  Babylonia,  about  two  centuries  later.  The  Mishnu  is 
the  most  ancient  record  possessed  hy  the  Jews  except  the  Bible. 


MAHOMET  AND  JUS  SUCCESSORS.  51 

imperative  duty,  and  the  immutable  law  of  right  and  wrong, 
" Do  unto  another  as  thou  wouldst  he  should  do  unto  thee," 
was  given  for  the  moral  conduct  of  the  faithful. 

"Deal  not  unjustly  with  others,"  says  the  Koran,  "  and  ye 
shall  not  he  dealt  with  unjustly.  If  there  he  any  debtor  under 
a  difficulty  of  paying  his  debt,  let  his  creditor  wait  until  it  be 
easy  for  him  to  do  it;  but  if  he  remit  it  in  alms,  it  will  be  better 
for  him." 

Mahomet  inculcated  a  noble  fairness  and  sincerity  in  dealing. 
"  Oh  merchants!"  would  he  say,  "  falsehood  and  deception  are 
apt  to  prevail  in  traffic,  purify  it  therefore  with  alms ;  give 
something  in  charity  as  an  atonement ;  for  God  is  incensed  by 
decef  j  in  dealing,  but  charity  appeases  his  anger.  He  who  sells 
a  defective  thing,  concealing  its  defect,  will  provoke  the  anger 
of  God  and  the  curses  of  the  angels. 

"Take  not  advantage  of  the  necessities  of  another  to  buy 
things  at  a  sacrifice :  rather  relieve  his  indigence. 

"  Feed  the  hungry,  visit  the  sick,  and  free  the  captive  if  con- 
fined unjustly. 

' '  Look  not  scornfully  upon  thy  fellow  man ;  neither  walk  the 
earth  with  insolence ;  for  God  loveth  not  the  arrogant  and  vain- 
glorious. Be  moderate  in  thy  pace,  and  speak  with  a  moder- 
ate tone ;  for  the  most  ungrateful  of  all  voices  is  the  voice  of 
asses."* 

Idolatry  of  all  kinds  was  strictly  forbidden ;  indeed  it  was 
what  Mahomet  held  in  most  abhorrence.  Many  of  the  religious 
usages,  however,  prevalent  since  time  immemorial  among  the 
Arabs,  to  which  he  had  been  accustomed  from  infancy,  and 


*  The  following  words  of  Mahomet,  treasured  up  by  one  of  his  disciples,  appear  to 
have  been  suggested  by  a  passage  in  Matthew  25  :  35-45: 

"  Verily,  God  will  say  at  the  day  of  resurrection,  '  Oh  sons  of  Adam!  I  wgs  sick, 
and  ye  did  not  visit  me.'  Then  they  will  say,  '  How  could  we  visit  thee?  for  thou 
art  the  Lord  of  the  universe,  and  art  free  from  sickness.'  And  God  will  reply, 
'Knew  ye  not  that  such  a  one  of  my  servants  was  sick,  and  ye  did  not  visit  him?  Had 
you  visited  that  servant,  it  would  have  been  counted  to  you  as  righteousness.'  And 
God  will  say,  '  Oh  sons  of  Adam !  I  asked  you  for  food,  and  ye  gave  it  me  not.'  And 
the  sons  of  Adam  will  say,  '  How  could  we  give  thee  food,  seeing  thou  art  the  sus- 
tainer  of  the  universe,  and  art  free  from  hunger? '  And  God  will  say,  '  Such  a  one 
of  my  servants  asked  you  for  bread,  and  ye  refused  it.  Had  you  given  him  to  eat. 
ye  would  have  received  your  reward  from  me.'  And  God  will  say.  'Oh  sons  of 
Adam!  I  asked  you  for  water,  and  ye  gave  it  me  not.'  They  will  reply,  'Oh,  our 
supporter!  How  could  we  give  thee  water,  seeintr  thou  art  the  sustainer  of  the 
universe,  and  not  subject  to  thirst? '  And  God  will  say,  '  Such  a  one  of  my  servants 
asked  you  for  water,  and  ye  did  not  give  it  to  him.  Had  j'e  done  so,  ye  would  have 
received  your  reward  from  me,.'  " 


52  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

which  were  not  incompatible  with  the  doctrine  of  the  unity  of 
God,  were  still  retained.  Such  was  the  pilgrimage  to  Mecca, 
including  all  the  rights  connected  with  the  Caaba,  the  well  of 
Zem  Zem,  and  other  sacred  places  in  the  vicinity ;  apart  from 
any  worship  of  the  idols  by  which  they  had  been  profaned. 

The  old  Arabian  rite  of  prayer,  accompanied  or  rather  pre- 
ceded by  ablution,  was  still  continued.  Prayers  indeed  were 
enjoined  at  certain  hours  of  the  day  and  night ;  they  were  sim- 
ple in  form  and  phrase,  addressed  directly  to  the  Deity  with 
certain  inflections,  or  at  times  a  total  prostration  of  the  body, 
and  with  the  face  turned  toward  the  Kebla,  or  point  of  adora 
tion. 

At  the  end  of  each  prayer  the  following  verse  from  the  second 
chapter  of  the  Koran  was  recited.  It  is  said  to  have  great 
beauty  in  the  original  Arabic,  and  is  engraved  on  gold  and  sil- 
ver ornaments,  and  on  precious  stones  worn  as  amulets.  ' '  God ! 
There  is  no  God  but  He,  the  living,  the  ever  living ;  he  sleepeth 
not,  neither  doth  he  slumber.  To  him  belongeth  the  heavens, 
and  the  earth,  and  aU  that  they  contain.  Who  shall  intercede 
with  him  unless  by  his  permission?  He  knoweth  the  past  and 
the  future,  but  no  one  can  comprehend  anything  of  his  knowl- 
edge but  that  which  he  revealeth.  His  sway  extendeth  over 
the  heavens  and  the  earth,  and  to  sustain  them  both  is  no  bur- 
den to  him.    He  is  the  High,  the  Mighty !" 

Mahomet  was  strenuous  in  enforcing  the  importance  and 
efficacy  of  prayer.  "Angels,"  said  he,  "  come  among  you  both 
by  night  and  day;  after  which  those  of  the  night  ascend  to 
heaven,  and  God  asks  them  how  they  left  bis  creatures.  YvTe 
found  them,  say  they,  at  their  prayers,  and  we  left  them  at 
their  prayers. " 

The  doctrines  in  the  Koran  respecting  the  resurrection  and 
final  judgment,  were  in  some  respects  similar  to  those  of 
the  Christian  religion,  but  were  mixed  up  with  wild  notions 
derived  from  other  sources;  while  the  joys  of  the  Moslem 
heaven,  though  partly  spiritual,  were  clogged  and  debased  by 
the  sensualities  of  earth,  and  infinitely  below  the  ineffable 
purity  and  spiritual  blessedness  of  the  heaven  promised  by  our 
Saviour. 

Nevertheless,  the  description  of  the  last  day,  as  contained  in 
the  eighty-first  chapter  of  the  Koran,  and  which  must  have 
been  given  by  Mahomet  at  the  outset  of  his  mission  at  Mecca, 
as  one  of  the  first  of  his  revelations,  partakes  of  sublimity. 

"In  the  name  of  the  all  merciful  God !  a  day  shall  come  when 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  53 

the  sun  will  be  shrouded,  and  the  stars  will  fall  from  the 
heavens. 

"When  the  caniels  about  to  foal  will  be  neglected,  and  wild 
beasts  will  herd  together  through  fear. 

' '  When  the  waves  of  the  ocean  will  boil,  and  the  souls  of  the 
dead  again  be  united  to  the  bodies. 

"  When  the  female  infant  that  has  been  buried  alive  will  de- 
mand, for  what  crime  was  I  sacrificed?  and  the  eternal  books 
will  be  laid  open. 

"When  the  heavens  will  pass  away  like  a  scroll,  and  hell  will 
burn  fiercely;  and  the  joys  of  paradise  will  be  made  manifest. 

' '  On  that  day  shall  eveiy  soul  make  known  that  which  it 
hath  performed. 

"Verily,  I  swear  to  you  by  the  stars  which  move  swiftly 
and  are  lost  in  the  brightness  of  the  sun,  and  by  the  darkness 
of  the  night,  and  by  the  dawning  of  the  day,  these  are  not  the 
words  of  an  evil  spirit,  but  of  an  angel  of  dignity  and  power, 
who  possesses  the  confidence  of  Allah,  and  is  revered  by  the 
angels  under  his  command.  Neither  is  your  companion,  Ma- 
homet, distracted.  He  beheld  the  celestial  messenger  in  the 
light  of  the  clear  horizon,  and  the  words  revealed  to  him  are 
intended  as  an  admonition  unto  all  creatures." 

Note.— To  exhibit  the  perplexed  maze  of  controversial  doctrines  from  which 
Mahomet  had  to  acquire  his  notions  of  the  Christian  faith,  we  subjoin  the  leading 
points  of  the  jarring  sects  of  oriental  Christians  alluded  to  in  the  foregoing  article; 
all  of  which  have  been  pronounced  heretical  or  schismatic. 

The  Sabellians,  so  called  from  Sabellius,  a  Libyan  priest  of  the  third  century, 
believed  in  the  unity  of  God,  and  that  the  Trinity  expressed  but  three  different 
states  or  relations.  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  all  forming  but  one  substance,  as 
a  man  consists  of  body  and  soul. 

The  Arians,  from  Arius,  an  ecclesiastic  of  Alexandria  in  the  fourth  century, 
affirmed  Christ  to  be  the  Son  of  God,  but  distinct  from  him  and  inferior  to  him, 
and  denied  the  Holy  Ghost  to  be  God. 

The  Nestorians,  from  Nestorius,  bishop  of  Constantinople  in  the  fifth  century, 
maintained  that  Christ  had  two  distinct  natures,  divine  and  human;  that  Mary  was 
only  his  mother,  and  Jesus  a  man,  and  that  it  was  an  abomination  to  style  her,  as 
was  the  custom  of  the  church,  the  Mother  of  God. 

The  Monophysites  maintained  the  single  nature  of  Christ,  as  their  name  betokens. 
They  affirmed  that  he  was  combined  of  God  and  man,  so  mingled  and  united  as  to 
form  but  one  nature. 

The  Eutychians.  from  Eutyches,  abbot  of  a  convent  in  Constantinople  in  the  fifth 
century,  were  a  branch  of  the  Monophysites,  expressly  opposed  to  the  Nestorians. 
They  denied  the  double  nature  of  Christ,  declaring  that  he  was  entirely  God  previ- 
ous to  the  incarnation,  and  entirely  man  during  the  incarnation. 

The  Jacobites,  from  Jacobus,  bishop  of  Edessa,  in  Syria,  in  the  sixth  century, 
were  a  very  numerous  branch  of  the  Monophysites,  varying  but  little  from  the 
Eutychians.    Most  of  the  Christian  tribes  of  Arabs  were  Jacobites. 

The  Mariamites,  or  worshippers  of  Mary,  regarded  the  Trinity  as  consisting  oi 
lod  the  Father,  God  the  Ron,  and  God  the  Virgin  Mary. 


54  MAHOMET  AND  UIS  SUCCESSORS. 

The  Collyridians  were  a  sect  of  Arabian  Christians,  composed  chiefly  of  females. 
They  worshipped  the  Virgin  Mary  as  possessed  of  divinity,  and  made  offerings  to 
her  of  a  twisted  cake,  called  collyris,  whence  they  derived  their  name. 

The  Naz&roeans,  or  Nazarenes,  were  a  sect  of  Jewish  Christians,  who  considered 
Christ  as  the  Messiah,  as  born  of  a  Virgin  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  as  possessing 
something  of  a  divine  nature;  but  they  conformed  in  all  other  respects  to  the  rites 
and  ceremonies  of  the  Mosaic  law. 

The  Ebionites,  from  Ebion,  a  converted  Jew  who  lived  in  the  first  century,  were 
also  a  sect  of  judaizing  Christians,  little  differing  from  the  Nazaraeans.  They  be- 
lieved Christ  to  be  a  pure  man,  the  greatest  of  the  prophets,  but  denied  that  he  had 
any  existence  previous  to  being  born  of  the  Virgin  Mary.  This  sect,  as  well  as  that 
of  the  Nazaraeans,  had  many  adherents  in  Arabia. 

Many  other  sects  might  be  enumerated,  such  as  the  Corinthians,  Maronites,  and 
Marcionites,  who  took  their  names  from  learned  and  zealous  leaders;  and  the  Do- 
cetes  and  Gnostics,  who  were  subdivided  into  various  sects  of  subtle  enthusiasts. 
Some  of  these  asserted  the  immaculate  purity  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  affirming  that 
her  conception  and  delivery  were  effected  like  the  transmission  of  the  rays  of  light 
through  a  pane  of  glass,  without  impairing  her  virginity;  an  opinion  still  main- 
tained strenuously  in  substance  by  Spanish  Catholics. 

Most  of  the  Docetes  asserted  that  Jesus  Christ  was  of  a  nature  entirely  divine ; 
that  a  phantom,  a  mere  form  without  substance,  was  crucified  by  the  deluded  Jews, 
and  that  the  crucifixion  and  resurrection  were  deceptive  mystical  exhibitions  at 
Jerusalem  for  the  benefit  of  the  human  race. 

The  Carpocratians,  Basilidians,  and  Valentinians,  named  after  three  Egyptian 
controversialists,  contended  that  Jesus  Christ  was  merely  a  wise  and  virtuous 
mortal,  the  son  of  Joseph  and  Mary,  selected  by  God  to  reform  and  instruct  man- 
kind; but  that  a  divine  nature  was  imparted  to  him  at  the  maturity  of  his  age,  and 
period  of  his  baptism,  by  St.  John.  The  former  part  of  this  creed,  which  is  that  of 
the  Ebionites,  has  been  revived,  and  is  professed  by  some  of  the  Unitarian  Chris- 
tians, a  numerous  and  increasing  sect  of  Protestants  of  the  present  day. 

It  is  sufficient  to  glance  at  these  dissensions,  which  we  have  not  arranged  in 
chronological  order,  but  which  convulsed  the  early  Christian  church,  and  continued 
to  prevail  at  the  era  of  Mahomet,  to  acquit  him  of  any  charge  of  conscious 
blasphemy  in  the  opinions  he  inculcated  concerning  the  nature  and  mission  of  our 
Saviour. 


CHAPTEE  IX. 

RIDICULE  CAST  ON  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  DOCTRINES — DEMAND  FOR 
MIRACLES— CONDUCT  OF  ABU  TALEB — VIOLENCE  OF  THE  KORE- 
ISHITES  — MAHOMET'S  DAUGHTER  ROKAIA,  WITH  HER  UNCLE 
OTHMAN,  AND  A  NUMBER  OF  DISCIPLES  TAKE  REFUGE  IN  ABYS- 
SINIA— MAHOMET  IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  ORKHAM — HOSTILITY  OF 
ABU  JAHL;    HIS  PUNISHMENT. 

The  greatest  difficulty  with  which  Mahomet  had  to  contend 
at  the  outset  of  his  prophetic  career  was  the  ridicule  of  his 
opponents.  Those  who  had  known  him  from  his  infancy — 
who  had  seen  him  a  boy  about  the  streets  of  Mecca,  and  after- 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  55 

ward  occupied  in  all  the  ordinary  concerns  of  life,  scoffed  at 
his  assumption  of  the  apostolic  character.  They  pointed 
with  a  sneer  at  him  as  he  passed,  exclaiming,  "Behold  the 
grandson  of  Abd  al  Motalleb,  who  pretends  to  know  what  is 
going  on  in  heaven!"  Some  who  had  witnessed  his  fits  of 
mental  excitement  and  ecstasy  considered  him  insane ;  others 
declared  that  he  was  possessed  with  a  devil,  and  some  charged 
him  with  sorcery  and  magic. 

When  he  walked  the  streets  he  was  subject  to  those  jeers 
and  taunts  and  insults  which  the  vulgar  are  apt  to  vent  upon 
men  of  eccentric  conduct  and  unsettled  mind.  If  he  attempted 
to  preach,  his  voice  was  drowned  by  discordant  noises  and 
ribald  songs;  nay,  dirt  was  thrown  upon  him  when  he  was 
praying  in  the  Caaba. 

Nor  was  it  the  vulgar  and  ignorant  alone  who  thus  insulted 
him.  One  of  his  most  redoubtable  assailants  was  a  youth 
named  Amru;  and  as  he  subsequently  made  a  distinguished 
figure  in  Mahometan  history,  we  woidd  impress  the  circum- 
stances of  this,  his  first  appearance,  upon  the  mind  of  the 
reader.  He  was  the  son  of  a  courtesan  of  Mecca,  who  seems  to 
have  rivalled  in  fascination  the  Phrynes  and  Aspasias  of 
Greece,  and  to  have  numbered  some  of  the  noblest  of  the  land 
among  her  lovers.  When  she  gave  birth  to  this  chdd,  she 
mentioned  several  of  the  tribe  of  Koreish  who  had  equal  claims 
to  the  paternity.  The  infant  was  declared  to  have  most 
resemblance  to  Aass,  the  oldest  of  her  admirers,  whence,  in 
addition  to  his  name  of  Amru,  he  received  the  designation  of 
Ibn  al  Aass.  the  son  of  Aass. 

Nature  had  lavished  her  choicest  gifts  upon  this  natural 
child,  as  if  to  atone  for  the  blemish  of  his  birth.  Though 
young,  he  was  already  one  of  the  most  popular  poets  of  Ara- 
bia, and  equally  distinguished  for  the  pungency  of  his  satirical 
effusions  and  the  captivating  sweetness  of  his  serious  lays. 

When  Mahomet  first  announced  his  mission,  this  youth  as- 
sailed him  with  lampoons  and  humorous  madrigals;  which, 
falling  in  with  the  poetic  taste  of  the  Arabs,  were  widely  circu- 
lated, and  proved  greater  impediments  to  the  growth  of  Is- 
lamism  than  the  bitterest  persecution. 

Those  who  were  more  serious  in  their  opposition  demanded 
of  Mahomet  supernatural  proofs  of  what  he  asserted.  "Moses 
and  Jesus,  and  the  rest  of  the  prophets,"  said  they,  "wrought 
miracles  to  prove  the  divinity  of  their  missions.  If  thou  art 
indeed  a  prophet,  greater  than  they,  work  the  like  miracles." 


56  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

The  reply  of  Mahomet  may  be  gathered  from  his  own  words 
in  the  Koran.  ' '  What  greater  miracle  could  they  have  than 
the  Koran  itself:  a  book  revealed  by  means  of  an  unlettered 
man;  so  elevated  in  language,  so  incontrovertible  in  argument, 
that  the  united  skill  of  men  and  devils  could  compose  nothing 
comparable.  What  greater  proof  could  there  be  that  it  came 
from  none  but  God  himself  ?    The  Koran  itself  is  a  miracle." 

They  demanded,  however,  more  palpable  evidence ;  miracles 
addressed  to  the  senses;  that  he  should  cause  the  dumb  to 
speak,  the  deaf  to  hear,  the  blind  to  see,  the  dead  to  rise ;  or 
that  he  should  work  changes  in  the  face  of  nature :  cause  foun- 
tains to  gush  forth ;  change  a  sterile  place  into  a  garden,  with 
palm-trees  and  vines  and  running  streams ;  cause  a  palace  of 
gold  to  rise,  decked  with  jewels  and  precious  stones ;  or  ascend 
by  a  ladder  into  heaven  in  their  presence.  Or,  if  the  Koran 
did  indeed,  as  he  affirmed,  come  down  from  heaven,  that  they 
might  see  it  as  it  descended,  or  behold  the  angels  who  brought 
it ;  and  then  they  would  believe. 

Mahomet  replied  sometimes  by  arguments,  sometimes  by  de- 
nunciations. He  claimed  to  be  nothing  more  than  a  man  sent 
by  God  as  an  apostle.  Had  angels,  said  he,  walked  familiarly 
on  earth,  an  angel  had  assuredly  been  sent  on  this  mission;  but 
woeful  had  been  the  case  of  those  who,  as  in  the  present  in- 
stance, doubted  his  word.  They  would  not  have- been  able,  as 
with  me,  to  argue,  and  dispute,  and  take  time  to  be  convinced ; 
their  perdition  would  have  been  instantaneous.  ' '  God, "  added 
he,  "  needs  no  angel  to  enforce  my  mission.  He  is  a  sufficient 
witness  between  you  and  me.  Those  whom  he  shall  dispose  to 
be  convinced  will  truly  believe ;  those  whom  he  shall  permit  to 
remain  in  error  will  find  none  to  help  their  unbelief .  On  the 
day  of  resurrection  they  will  appear  blind,  and  deaf,  and  dumb, 
and  grovelling  on  their  faces.  Their  abode  will  be  in  the  eter- 
nal flames  of  Jehennam.  Such  will  be  the  reward  of  their  un- 
belief. 

"You  insist  on  miracles.  God  gave  to  Moses  the  power  of 
working  miracles.  What.was  the  consequence?  Pharaoh  dis- 
regarded his  miracles,  accused  him  of  sorcery,  and  sought  to 
drive  him  and  his  people  from  the  land;  but  Pharaoh  was 
drowned,  and  with  him  all  his  host.  Would  ye  tempt  God  to 
miracles,  and  risk  the  punishment  o£  Pharaoh?" 

It  is  recorded  by  Al  Maalem,  an  Arabian  writer,  that  some  of 
Mahomet's  disciples  at  one  time  joined  with  the  multitude  in 
this  cry  for  miracles,  ani  besought  him  to  prove,  at  once,  the 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  57 

divinity  of  his  mission,  by  turning  the  hill  of  Safa  into  gold. 
Being  thus  closely  urged  he  hetook  himself  to  prayer;  and 
having  finished,  assured  his  followers  that  the  angel  Gabriel 
had  appeared  to  him,  and  informed  him  that,  should  God 
grant  his  prayer,  and  work  the  desired  miracle,  all  who  dis- 
believed it  would  be  exterminated.  In  pity  to  the  multitude, 
therefore,  who  appeared  to  be  a  stiff-necked  generation,  he 
would  not  expose  them  to  destruction :  so  the  hill  of  Safa  was 
permitted  to  remain  in  its  pristine  state. 

Other  Moslem  writers  assert  that  Mahomet  departed  from 
his  self-prescribed  rule,  and  wrought  occasional  miracles,  when 
he  found  his  hearers  unusually  slow  of  belief.  Thus  we  are 
told  that,  at  one  time,  in  presence  of  a  multitude,  he  called  to 
him  a  bull,  and  took  from  his  horns  a  scroll  containing  a  chap- 
ter of  the  Koran,  just  sent  down  from  heaven.  At  another 
time,  while  discoursing  in  public,  a  white  dove  hovered  over 
him,  and,  alighting  on  his  shoulder,  appeared  to  whisper  in  his 
ear ;  being,  as  he  said,  a  messenger  from  the  Deity.  On  an- 
other occasion  he  ordered  the  earth  before  him  to  be  opened, 
when  two  jars  w^ere  found,  one  filled  with  honey,  the  other 
with  milk,  which  he  pronounced  emblems  of  the  abundance 
promised  by  heaven,  to  all  who  should  obey  his  law. 

Christian  writers  have  scoffed  at  these  miracles ;  suggesting 
that  the  dove  had  been  tutored  to  its  task,  and  sought  grains 
of  wheat  which  it  had  been  accustomed  to  find  in  the  ear  of 
,  Mahomet ;  that  the  scroll  had  previously  been  tied  to  the  horns 
of  the  bull,  and  the  vessels  of  milk  and  honey  deposited  in  the 
ground.  The  truer  course  woidd  be  to  discard  these  miracu- 
lous stories  altogether,  as  fables  devised  by  mistaken  zealots ; 
and  such  they  have  been  pronounced  by  the  ablest  of  the  Mos- 
lem commentators. 

There  is  no  proof  that  Mahomet  descended  to  any  artifices  of 
the  kind  to  enforce  his  doctrines  or  establish  his  apostolic 
claims.  He  appears  to  have  relied  entirely  on  reason  and  elo- 
quence, and  to  have  been  supported  by  religious  enthusiasm  in 
this  early  and  dubious  stage  of  his  career.  His  earnest  attacks 
upon  the  idolatry  which  had  vitiated  and  superseded  the  primi- 
tive worship  of  the  Caaba,  began  to  have  a  sensible  effect,  and 
alarmed  the  Koreishites.  They  urged  Abu  Taleb  to  sfience  his 
nephew  or  to  send  him  away ;  but  finding  their  entreaties  un- 
availing, they  informed  the  old  man  that  if  this  pretended 
prophet  and  his  followers  persisted  in  their  heresies,  they 
should  pay  for  them  with  their  lives. 


58  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

Abu  Taleb  hastened  to  inform  Mahomet  of  these  menaces, 
imploring  him  not  to  provoke  against  himself  and  family  such 
numerous  and  powerful  foes. 

The  enthusiastic  spirit  of  Mahomet  kindled  at  the  words. 
"  Oh  my  uncle !"  exclaimed  he,  "  though  they  should  array  the 
sun  against  me  on  my  right  hand,  and  the  moon  on  my  left, 
yet,  until  God  should  command  me,  or  should  take  me  hence, 
would  I  not  depart  from  my  purpose." 

He  was  retiring  with  dejected  countenance,  when  Abu  Taleb 
called  him  back.  The  old  man  was  as  yet  unconverted,  but 
he  was  struck  with  admiration  of  the  undaunted  firmness 
of  his  nephew,  and  declared  that,  preach  what  he  might,  he 
would  never  abandon  him  to  his  enemies.  Feeling  that  of  him- 
self he  could  not  yield  sufficient  protection,  he  called  upon  the 
other  descendants  of  Haschem  and  Abd  al  Motalleb  to  aid  in 
shielding  their  kinsman  from  the  persecution  of  the  rest  of  the 
tribe  of  Koreish ;  and  so  strong  is  the  family  tie  among  the 
Arabs,  that  though  it  was  protecting  him  in  what  they  con- 
sidered a  dangerous  heresy,  they  all  consented  excepting  his 
uncle,  Abu  Lahab. 

The  animosity  of  the  Koreishites  became  more  and  more 
virulent,  and  proceeded  to  personal  violence.  Mahomet  was 
assailed  and  nearly  strangled  in  the  Caaba,  and  was  rescued 
with  difficulty  by  Abu  Beker,  who  himself  suffered  personal 
injury  in  the  affray.  His  immediate  family  became  objects  of 
hatred,  especially  his  daughter  Eokaia  and  her  husband,  Oth- 
man  Ibn  Affan.  Such  of  his  disciples  as  had  no  powerful 
friends  to  protect  them  were  in  peril  of  their  lives.  Full  of 
anxiety  for  their  safety,  Mahomet  advised  them  to  leave  his 
dangerous  companionship  for  the  present,  and  take  refuge  in 
Abyssinia.  The  narrowness  of  the  Red  Sea  made  it  easy  to 
reach  the  African  shore.  The  Abyssinians  were  Nestorian 
Christians,  elevated  by  their  religion  above  their  barbarous 
neighbors.  Their  najashee  or  king  was  reputed  to  be  tolerant 
and  just.  With  him  Mahomet  trusted  his  daughter  and  his 
fugitive  disciples  would  find  refuge. 

Othman  Ibn  Affan  was  the  leader  of  this  httle  band  of  Mos- 
lems, consisting  of  eleven  men  and  four  women.  They  took 
the  way  by  the  sea-coast  to  Jodda,  a  port  about  two  days'  jour- 
ney to  the  east  of  Mecca,  where  they  found  two  Abyssinian 
vessels  at  anchor,  in  which  they  embarked,  and  sailed  for  the 
land  of  refuge. 

This  event,  which  happened  in  the  fifth  year  of  the  mission 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  59 

of*  Mahomet,  is  called  the  first  Hegira  or  Flight,  to  distinguish 
it  from  the  second  Hegira,  the  flight  of  the  prophet  himself 
from  Mecca  to  Medina.  The  kind  treatment  experienced  by 
the  fugitives  induced  others  of  the  same  faith  to  follow  their 
example,  imtil  the  number  of  Moslem  refugees  in  Abyssinia 
amounted  to  eighty -three  men  and  eighteen  women,  besides 
children. 

The  Koreishites  finding  that  Mahomet  was  not  to  be  silenced, 
and  was  daily  making  converts,  passed  a  law  banishing  all  who 
should  embrace  his  faith.  Mahomet  retired  before  the  storm, 
and  took  refuge  in  the  house  of  a  disciple  named  Orkham, 
situated  on  the  hill  of  Safa.  This  hill,  as  has  already  been 
mentioned,  was  renowned  in  Arabian  tradition  as  the  one  on 
which  Adam  and  Eve  were  permitted  to  come  once  more  to- 
gether, after  the  long  solitary  wandering  about  the  earth 
which  followed  their  expulsion  from  paradise.  It  was  likewise 
connected  in  tradition  with  the  fortunes  of  Hagar  and  Ishmael. 

Mahomet  remained  for  a  month  in  the  house  of  Orkham, 
continuing  his  revelations  and  drawing  to  him  sectaries  from 
various  parts  of  Arabia.  The  hostility  of  the  Koreishites  fol- 
lowed him  to  his  retreat.  Abu  Jahl,  an  Arab  of  that  tribe, 
sought  him  out,  insulted  him  with  opprobrious  language,  and 
even  personally  maltreated  him.  The  outrage  was  reported 
to  Hamza,  an  uncle  of  Mahomet,  as  he  returned  to  Mecca  from 
hunting.  Hamza  was  no  proselyte  to  Islamism,  but  he  was 
pledged  to  protect  his  nephew.  Marching  with  his  bow  un- 
strung in  his  hand  to  an  assemblage  of  the  Koreishites,  where 
Abu  Jahl  was  vaunting  his  recent  triumph,  he  dealt  the  boaster 
a  blow  over  the  head  that  inflicted  a  grievous  wound.  The 
kinsfolk  of  Abu  Jahl  rushed  to  his  assistance,  but  the  brawler 
stood  in  awe  of  the  vigorous  arm  and  fiery  spirit  of  Hamza, 
and  sought  to  pacify  him.  "Let  him  alone,"  said  he  to  his 
kinsfolk;  "in  truth  I  have  treated  his  nephew  very  roughly." 
He  alleged  in  palliation  of  his  outrage  the  apostasy  of  Mahomet ; 
but  Hamza  was  not  to  be  appeased.  "  Well!"  cried  he,  fiercely 
and  scornfully,  "I  also  do  not  believe  in  your  gods  of  stone; 
can  you  compel  me  ?"  Anger  produced  in  his  bosom  what 
reasoning  might  have  attempted  in  vain.  He  forthwith  de- 
clared himself  a  convert;  took  the  oath  of  adhesion  to  the 
prophet,  and  became  one  of  the  most  zealous  and  valiant  cham- 
pions of  the  new  faith. 


60  M A11Q MET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 


CHAPTER  X. 

OMAR  IBN  AL  KHATTAB,  NEPHEW  OF  ABU  JAHL,  UNDERTAKES  TO 
REVENGE  HIS  UNCLE  BY  SLAYING  MAHOMET— HIS  WONDERFUL 
CONVERSION  TO  THE  FAITH -MAHOMET  TAKES  REFUGE  IN  A 
CASTLE  OF  ABU  TALEB— ABU  SOFIAN,  AT  THE  HEAD  OF  THE 
RIVAL  BRANCH  OF  KOREISHITES,  PERSECUTES  MAHOMET  AND 
HIS  FOLLOWERS— OBTAINS  A  DECREE  OF  NON-INTERCOURSE  WITH 
THEM— MAHOMET  LEAVES  HIS  RETREAT  AND  MAKES  CONVERTS 
DURING  THE  MONTH  OF  PILGRIMAGE— LEGEND  OF  THE  CON- 
VERSION OF  HABIB  THE  WISE. 

The  hatred  of  Abu  Jahl  to  the  prophet  was  increased  by  the 
severe  punishment  received  at  the  hands  of  Hamza.  He  had 
a  nephew  named  Omar  Ibn  al  Khattab ;  twenty-six  years  of 
age;  of  gigantic  stature,  prodigious  strength,  and  great  cour- 
age. His  savage  aspect  appalled  the  bold,  and  his  very  walk- 
ing-staff struck  more  terror  into  beholders  than  another  man's 
sword.  Such  are  the  words  of  the  Arabian  historian,  Abu 
Abdallah  Mohamed  Ibn  Omal  Alwakedi,  and  the  subsequent 
feats  of  this  warrior  prove  that  they  were  scarce  chargeable 
with  exaggeration. 

Instigated  by  his  uncle  Abu  Jahl,  this  fierce  Arab  undertook 
to  penetrate  to  the  retreat  of  Mahomet,  who  was  still  in  the 
house  of  Orkham,  and  to  strike  a  poniard  to  his  heart.  The 
Koreishites  are  accused  of  having  promised  him  one  hundred 
camels  and  one  thousand  ounces  of  gold  for  this  deed  of  blood; 
but  this  is  improbable,  nor  did  the  vengeful  nephew  of  Abu 
Jahl  need  a  bribe. 

As  he  was  on  his  way  to  the  house  of  Orkham  he  met  a 
Koreishite,  to  whom  he  imparted  his  design.  The  Koreishite 
was  a  secret  convert  to  Islamism,  and  sought  to  turn  him  from 
his  bloody  errand.  ' '  Before  you  slay  Mahomet, "  said  he,  ' '  and 
draw  upon  yourself  the  vengeance  of  his  relatives,  see  that 
your  own  are  free  from  heresy."  "Are  any  of  mine  guilty  of 
backsliding?"  demanded  Omar  with  astonishment.  "Even 
so,"  was  the  reply;  "thy  sister  Amina  and  her  husband  Seid." 

Omar  hastened  to  the  dwelling  of  his  sister,  and,  entering  it 
abruptly,  found  her  and  her  husband  reading  the  Koran.  Seid 
attempted  to  conceal  it,  but  his  confusion  convinced  Omar  of 


MAHOMET  AND  JUS  SUCCESSORS.  61 

the  truth  of  the  accusation,  and  heightened  his  fury.  In  his 
rage  he  struck  Seid  to  the  earth,  placed  his  foot  upon  his  breast, 
and  would  have  plunged  his  sword  into  it,  had  not  his  sister 
interposed.  A  blow  on  the  face  bathed  her  visage  in  blood. 
"Enemy  of  Allah!"  sobbed  Amina,  "dost  thou  strike  me  thus 
for  believing  in  the  only  true  God?  In  despite  of  thee  and  thy 
violence,  I  will  persevere  in  the  true  faith.  Yes,"  added  she 
with  fervor,  "  'There  is  no  God  but  God,  and  Mahomet  is  his 
prophet;  "and  now,  Omar,  finish  thy  work!" 

Omar  paused,  repented  of  his  violence,  and  took  his  foot 
from  the  bosom  of  Seid. 

"  Show  me  the  writing,"  said  he.  Amina,  however,  refused 
to  let  him  touch  the  sacred  scroll  until  he  had  washed  his 
hands.  The  passage  which  he  read  is  said  to  have  been  the 
twentieth  chapter  of  the  Koran,  which  thus  begins : 

"  In  the  name  of  the  most  merciful  God !  We  have  not  sent 
down  the  Koran  to  inflict  misery  on  mankind,  but  as  a  moni- 
tor, to  teach  him  to  believe  in  the  true  God,  the  creator  of  the 
earth  and  the  lofty  heavens. 

"The  all  merciful  is  enthroned  on  high,  to  him  belongeth 
whatsoever  is  in  the  heavens  above,  and  in  the  earth  beneath, 
and  in  the  regions  under  the  earth. 

"Dost  thou  utter  thy  prayers  with  a  loud  voice?  know  that 
there  is  no  need.  God  knoweth  the  secrets  of  thy  heart ;  yea, 
that  which  is  most  hidden. 

"Verily,  I  am  God;  there  is  none  beside  me.  Serve  me, 
serve  none  other.     Offer  up  thy  prayer  to  none  but  me." 

The  words  of  the  Koran  sank  deep  into  the  heart  of  Omar. 
He  read  farther,  and  was  more  and  more  moved,  but  when 
he  came  to  the  parts  treating  of  the  resurrection  and  of  judg- 
ment his  conversion  was  complete. 

He  pursued  his  way  to  the  house  of  Orkham,  but  with  an 
altered  heart.  Knocking  humbly  at  the  door,  he  craved  ad- 
mission. "  Come  in,  son  of  al  Khattab,"  exclaimed  Mahomet, 
"  What  brings  thee  hither?" 

"  I  come  to  enroll  my  name  among  the  believers  of  God  and 
his  prophet. "  So  saying,  he  made  the  Moslem  profession  of 
faith. 

He  was  not  content  until  his  conversion  was  publicly 
known.  At  his  request  Mahomet  accompanied  him  instantly 
to  the  Caaba,  to  perform  openly  the  rites  of  Islamism.  Omar 
walked  on  the  left  hand  of  the  prophet,  and  Hamza  on  the 
right,  to  protect  him  from  injury  and  insult,  and  they  were 


62  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

followed  by  upward  of  forty  disciples.  They  passed  in  open 
day  through  the  streets  of  Mecca,  to  the  astonishment  of  its 
inhabitants.  Seven  times  did  they  make  the  circuit  of  the 
Caaba,  touching  each  time  the  sacred  black  stone,  and  com- 
plying with  all  the  other  ceremonials.  The  Koreishites  re- 
garded this  procession  with  dismay,  but  dared  not  approach 
nor  molest  the  prophet,  being  deterred  by  the  looks  of  those 
terrible  men  of  battle,  Hamza  and  Omar;  who,  it  is  said, 
glared  upon  them  like  two  lions  that  had  been  robbed  of  their 
young. 

Fearless  and  resolute  in  everything,  Omar  went  by  himself 
the  next  day  to  pray  as  a  Moslem  in  the  Caaba,  in  open  defi- 
ance of  the  Koreishites.  Another  Moslem,  who  entered  the 
temple,  was  interrupted  in  his  worship,  and  rudely  treated; 
but  no  one  molested  Omar,  because  he  was  the  nephew  of  Abu 
Jahl.  Omar  repaired  to  his  uncle.  "I  renounce  thy  protec- 
tion," said  he.  "I  will  not  be  better  off  than  my  fellow-believ- 
ers." From  that  time  he  cast  his  lot  with  the  followers  of 
Mahomet,  and  was  one  of  his  most  strenuous  defenders. 

Such  was  the  wonderful  conversion  of  Omar,  afterward  the 
most  famous  champion  of  the  Islam  faith.  So  exasperated 
were  the  Koreishites  by  this  new  triumph  of  Mahomet,  that 
his  uncle,  Abu  Taleb,  feared  they  might  attempt  the  life  of  his 
nephew,  either  by  treachery  or  open  violence.  At  his  earnest 
entreaties,  therefore,  the  latter,  accompanied  by  some  of  his 
principal  disciples,  withdrew  to  a  kind  of  castle,  or  stronghold, 
belonging  to  Abu  Taleb,  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  city. 

The  protection  thus  given  by  Abu  Taleb,  the  head  of  the 
Haschemites,  and  by  others  of  his  line,  to  Mahomet  and  hi3 
followers,  although  differing  from  them  in  faith,  drew  on  them 
the  wrath  of  the  rival  branch  of  the  Koreishites,  and  produced 
a  schism  in  the  tribe.  Abu  Sofian,  the  head  of  that  branch, 
availed  himself  of  the  heresies  of  the  prophet  to  throw  dis- 
credit, not  merely  upon  such  of  his  kindred  as  had  embraced 
his  faith,  but  upon  the  whole  line  of  Haschem,  which,  though 
dissenting  from  his  doctrines,  had,  through  mere  clannish 
feelings,  protected  him.  It  is  evident  the  hostility  of  Abu 
Sofian  arose,  not  merely  from  personal  hatred  or  religious 
scruples,  but  fro?n  family  feud.  Ho  was  ambitious  of  trans- 
ferring to  his  own  line  the  honors  of_the  city  so  long  engrossed 
by  the  Haschemites.  The  last  measure  of  the  kind-hearted 
Abu  Taleb,  in  placing  Mahomet  beyond  the  reach  of  persecu- 
tion, and  giving  him  a  castle  as  a  refuge,  was  seized  upon  by 


MAHOMET  AND   HIS  SUCCESSOR*.  63 

Abu  Sofian  and  his  adherents,  as  a  pretext  for  a  general  ban  of 
the  rival  line.  They  accordingly  issued  a  decree,  forbidding 
the  rest  of  the  tribe  of  Koreish  from  intermarrying,  or  holding 
any  intercourse,  oven  of  bargain  or  sale,  with  the  Haschem- 
ites,  until  they  should  deliver  up  their  kinsman,  Mahomet, 
for  punishment.  This  decree,  which  took  place  in  the  seventh 
year  of  what  is  jelled  the  mission  of  the  prophet,  was  written 
on  parchment  and  hung  up  in  the  Caaba.  It  reduced  Ma- 
homet and  his  disciples  to  great  straits,  being  almost  famished 
at  times  in  the  stronghold  in  which  they  had  taken  refuge. 
The  fortress  was  also  beleaguered  occasionally  by  the  Koreish- 
ites,  to  enforce  the  ban  in  all  its  rigor,  and  to  prevent  the  pos- 
sibility of  supplies. 

The  annual  season  of  pilgrimage,  however,  when  hosts  of 
pilgrims  repair  from  all  parts  of  Arabia  to  Mecca,  brought 
transient  relief  to  tho  persecuted  Moslems.  During  that  sacred 
season,  according  to  immemorial  law  and  usage  among  the 
Arabs,  all  hostilities  were  suspended,  and  warring  tribes  met 
in  temporary  peace  to  worship  at  the  Caaba.  At  .such  times 
Mahomet  and  his  disciples  would  venture  from  their  strong- 
hold and  return  to  Mecca,  Protected  also  by  the  immunity  of 
the  holy  month,  Mahomet  would  mingle  among  the  pilgrims 
and  preach  and  pray:  propound  his  doctrines,  and  proclaim 
his  revelations.  In  this  way  he  made  many  converts,  who,  on 
their  return  to  their  several  homes,  carried  with  them  the  seeds 
of  the  new  faith  to  distant  regions.  Among  these  converts 
were  occasionally  the  princes  or  heads  of  tribes,  whose  exam- 
ple had  an  influence  on  their  adherents.  Arabian  legends  give 
a  pompous  and  extravagant  account  of  the  conversion  of  one 
of  these  princes;  which,  as  it  was  attended  by  some  of  the 
most  noted  miracles  recorded  of  Mahomet,  may  not  he  un- 
worthy of  an  abbreviated  insertion. 

The  prince  in  question  was  Habib  Don  Malec,  surnamed  the 
"Wise  on  account  of  his  vast  knowledge  and  erudition ;  for  he 
is  represented  as  deeply  versed  in  magic  and  the  sciences,  and 
acquainted  with  all  religions,  to  their  very  foundations,  hav- 
ing read  all  that  had  been  written  concerning  them,  and  also 
acquired  practical  information,  for  he  had  belonged  to  them 
all  by  turns,  having  been  Jew,  Christian,  and  one  of  the  Magi. 
It  is  true,  he  had  had  more  than  usual  time  for  his  studies  and 
experience,  having,  according  to  Arabian  legend,  attained  to 
the  age  of  one  hundred  and  forty  years.  He  now  came  to 
Mecca  at  the  head  of  a  powerful  host  of  twenty  thousand  men. 


G4  MAHOMET  AND  EI&  SVCOESSOm. 

bringing  with  him  a  youthful  daughter,  Satiha,  whom  he  must 
have  begotten  in  a  ripe  old  age ;  and  for  whom  he  was  putting 
up  prayers  at  the  Caaba,  she  having  been  struck  dumb  and 
deaf,  aiid  blind,  and  deprived  of  the  use  of  her  limbs. 

Abu  Sofian  and  Abu  Jahl,  according  to  the  legend,  thought 
the  presence  of  this  very  powerful,  very  idolatrous,  and  very 
wise  old  prince,  at  the  head  of  so  formidable  a  host,  a  favor- 
able opportunity  to  effect  the  ruin  of  Mahomet.  They  accord- 
ingly informed  Habib  the  Wise  of  the  heresies  of  the  pretended 
prophet,  and  prevailed  upon  the  venerable  prince  to  summon 
him  into  his  presence  at  his  encampment  in  the  VaUey  of 
Flints,  there  to  defend  his  doctrines,  in  the  hope  that  his 
obstinacy  in  error  would  draw  upon  him  banishment  or  death. 

The  legend  gives  a  magnificent  account  of  the  issuing  forth 
of  the  idolatrous  Koreishites,  in  proud  array,  on  horseback 
and  on  foot,  led  by  Abu  Sofian  and  Abu  Jahl,  to  attend  the 
grand  inquisition  in  the  Valley  of  Flints :  and  of  the  oriental 
state  in  which  they  were  received  by  Habib  the  Wise,  seated 
under  a  tent  of  crimson,  on  a  throne  of  ebony,  inlaid  with 
ivory  and  sandalwood  and  covered  with  plates  of  gold. 

Mahomet  was  in  the  dwelling  of  Cadijah  when  he  received  a 
summons  to  this  formidable  tribunal.  Cadijah  was  loud  in  her 
expressions  of  alarm,  and  his  daughters  hung  about  his  neck, 
weeping  and  lamenting,  for  they  thought  him  going  to  certain 
death ;  but  he  gently  rebuked  their  fears,  and  bade  them  trust 
in  Allah. 

Unlike  the  ostentatious  state  of  his  enemies,  Abu  Sofian  and 
Abu  Jahl,  he  approached  the  scene  of  trial  in  simple  guise, 
clad  in  a  white  garment,  with  a  black  turban,  and  a  mantle 
which  had  belonged  to  his  grandfather  Abd  al  Motalleb,  and 
was  made  of  the  stuff  of  Aden.  His  hair  floated  below  his 
shoulders,  the  mysterious  fight  of  prophecy  beamed  from  his 
countenance;  and  though  he  had  not  anointed  his  beard,  nor 
used  any  perfumes,  excepting  a  little  musk  and  camphor  for 
the  hair  of  Ins  upper  lip,  yet  wherever  he  passed  a  bland  odor 
diffused  itself  around,  being,  say  the  Arabian  writers,  the  fra- 
grant emanations  from  his  person. 

He  was  preceded  by  the  zealous  Abu  Beker,  clad  in  a  scar- 
let vest  and  a  white  turban,  with  his  mantle  gathered  up 
under  his  arms,  so  as  to  display  his~scarlet  slippers. 

A  silent  awe,  continues  the  legend,  fell  upon  the  vast  assem- 
blage as  the  prophet  approached.  Not  a  murmur,  not  a  whis- 
per was  to  be  heard.     The  very  brute  animals  were  charmed 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  65 

to  silence ;  and  the  neighing  of  the  steed,  the  bellowing  of  the 
camel,  and  the  braying  of  the  ass  were  mute. 

The  venerable  Habib  received  him  graciously :  his  first  ques- 
tion was  to  the  point.  ' '  They  tell  thou  dost  pretend  to  be  a 
prophet  sent  from  God?    Is  it  so?" 

"Even  so,"  replied  Mahomet.  "Allah  has  sent  me  to  pro- 
claim the  veritable  faith." 

"Good,"  rejoined  the  wary  sage,  "but  every  prophet  has 
given  proof  of  his  mission  by  signs  and  miracles.  Noah  had 
his  rainbow;  Solomon  his  mysterious  ring;  Abraham  the. fire 
of  the  furnace,  which  became  cool  at  his  command ;  Isaac  the 
ram,  which  was  sacrificed  in  his  stead;  Moses  his  wonder- 
working rod,  and  Jesus  brought  the  dead  to  life,  and  appeased 
tempests  with  a  word.  If,  then,  thou  art  really  a  prophet, 
give  us  f\  miracle  in  proof." 

The  adherents  of  Mahomet  trembled  for  him  when  they 
heard  this  request,  and  Abu  Jahl  clapped  his  hands  and  ex- 
tolled the  sagacity  of  Habib  the  Wise.  But  the  prophet 
rebuked  him  with  scorn.  "Peace !  dog  of  thy  race !"  exclaimed 
he;  "disgrace  of  thy  kindred,  and  of  thy  tribe."  He  then 
calmly  proceeded  to  execute  the  wishes  of  Habib. 

The  first  miracle  demanded  of  Mahomet  was  to  reveal  what 
Habib  had  within  his  tent,  and  why  he  had  brought  it  to 
Mecca. 

Upon  this,  says  the  legend,  Mahomet  bent  toward  the  earth 
and  traced  figures  upon  the  sand.  Then  raising  his  head,  he 
replied,  "Oh  Habib!  thou  hast  brought  hither  thy  daughter, 
Satiha,  deaf  and  dumb,  and  lame  and  blind,  in  the  hope  of 
obtaining  relief  of  Heaven.  Go  to  thy  tent ;  speak  to  her,  and 
hear  her  reply,  and  know  that  God  is  all  powerful." 

The  aged  prince  hastened  to  his  tent.  His  daughter  met  him 
with  light  step  and  extended  arms,  perfect  in  all  her  facul- 
ties, her  eyes  beaming  with  joy,  her  face  clothed  with  smiles, 
and  more  beauteous  than  the  moon  in  an  unclouded  night. 

The  second  miracle  demanded  by  Habib  was  still  more  diffi- 
cult. It  was  that  Mahomet  should  cover  the  noontide  heaven 
with  supernatural  darkness,  and  cause  the  moon  to  descend 
and  rest  upon  the  top  of  the  Caaba. 

The  prophet  performed  this  miracle  as  easily  as  the  first.  At 
his  summons,  a  darkness  blotted  out  the  whole  light  of  day. 
The  moon  was  then  seen  straying  from  her  course  and  wander- 
ing about  the  firmament.  By  the  irresistible  power  of  the 
prophet,  she  was  drawn  from  the  heavens  and  rested  on  the 


QQ  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

top  of  the  Caaba.  She  then  performed  seven  circuits  about  it, 
after  the  manner  of  the  pilgrims,  and  having  made  a  profound 
reverence  to  Mahomet,  stood  before  him  with  lambent  "waver- 
ing motion,  like  a  flaming  sword;  giving  him  the  salutation  of 
peace,  and  hailing  him  as  a  prophet. 

Not  content  with  this  miracle,  pursues  the  legend,  Mahomet 
compelled  the  obedient  luminary  to  enter  by  the  right  sleeve 
of  his  mantle,  and  go  out  by  the  left ;  then  to  divide  into  two 
parts,  one  of  which  went  toward  the  east,  and  the  other 
toward  the  west,  and  meeting  in  the  centre  of  the  firmament, 
reunited  themselves  into  a  round  and  glorious  orb. 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  Habib  the  Wise  was  convinced,  and 
converted  by  these  miracles,  as  were  also  four  hundred  and 
seventy  of  the  inhabitants  of  Mecca.  Abu  Jahl,  however,  was 
hardened  in  unbelief,  exclaiming  tnat  all  was  illusion  and  en- 
chantment produced  by  the  magic  of  Mahomet. 

Note. — The  miracles  here  recorded  are  not  to  bo  found  in  the  pages  of  the  accu- 
rate Abulfeda,  nor  are  they  maintained  by  any  of  the  graver  of  the  Moslem  writers; 
but  they  exist  in  tradition,  and  are  set  forth  with  great  prolixity  by  apocryphal  au- 
thors, who  insist  that  they  are  alluded  to  in  the  fifty-fourth  chapter  of  the  Koran. 
They  are  probably  as  true  as  many  other  of  the  wonders  related  of  the  prophet.  It 
will  be  remembered  that  he  himself  claimed  but  one  miracle,  "  the  Koran." 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  BAN  OF  NON-INTERCOURSE  MYSTERIOUSLY  DESTROYED  — 
MAHOMET  ENABLED  TO  RETURN  TO  MECCA — DEATH  OF  ABU 
TALEB;  OF  CADIJAH — MAHOMET  BETROTHS  HIMSELF  TO  AYE- 
SHA— MARRIES  SAWDA— THE  KOREISHITES  RENEW  THEIR  PER- 
SECUTION— MAHOMET  SEEKS  AN  ASYLUM  IN  TAYEF— HIS  EX- 
PULSION THENCE — VISITED  BY  GENII  IN  THE  DESERT  OF 
NAELAH. 

Three  years  had  elapsed  since  Mahomet  and  his  disciples 
took  refuge  in  the  castle  of  Abu  Taleb.  The  ban  or  decree  still 
existed  in  the  Caaba,  cutting  them  off  from  all  intercourse 
with  the  rest  of  their  tribe.  The  sect,  as  usual,  increased  un- 
der persecution.  Many  joined  it  in  Mecca;  murmurs  arose 
against  the  unnatural  feud  engendered  among  the  Koreishites, 
and  Abu  Sofian  was  made  to  blush  for  the  lengths  to  which  he 
had  carried  his  hostility  against  some  of  his  kindred. 


MAHOMET  AND   JUS  SUCCESSORS.  07 

All  at  once  it  was  discovered  that  the  parchment  in  the  Caaba, 
on  which  the  decree  had  been  written,  was  so  substantially 
destroyed  that  nothing  of  the  writing  remained  but  the  initial 
words,  "In  thy  name,  oh  Almighty  God!"  The  decree  was, 
therefore,  declared  to  be  annulled,  and  Mahomet  and  his  fol- 
lowers were  permitted  to  return  to  Mecca  unmolested.  The 
mysterious  removal  of  this  legal  obstacle  has  been  considered 
by  pious  Moslems  another  miracle  wrought  by  supernatural 
agency  in  favor  of  the  prophet ;  though  unbelievers  have  sur- 
mised that  the  document,  which  was  becoming  embarrassing  in 
its  effects  to  Abu  Sofian  himself,  was  secretly  destroyed  by 
mortal  hands. 

The  return  of  Mahomet  and  his  disciples  to  Mecca  was  fol- 
lowed by  important  conversions,  both  of  inhabitants  of  the 
city  and  of  pilgrims  from  afar.  The  chagrin  experienced  by 
the  Koreishites  from  the  growth  of  this  new  sect  was  soothed 
by  tidings  of  victories  of  the  Persians  over  the  Greeks,  by 
which  they  conquered  Syria  and  a  part  of  Egypt.  The  idola- 
trous Koreishites  exulted  in  the  defeat  of  the  Christian  Greeks, 
whoso  faith,  being  opposed  to  the  worship  of  idols,  they  as- 
similated to  that  preached  by  Mahomet.  The  latter  replied  to 
their  taunts  and  exultations  by  producing  the  thirtieth  chapter 
of  the  Koran,  opening  with  these  words:  "The  Greeks  have 
been  overcome  by  the  Persians,  but  they  shall  overcome  the 
latter  in  the  course  of  a  few  years." 

The  zealous  and  believing  Abu  Beker  made  a  wager  of  ten 
camels  that  this  prediction  would  be  accomplished  within  three 
years.  ' '  Increase  the  wager,  but  lengthen  the  time, "  whispered 
Mahomet.  Abu  Beker  staked  one  hundred  camels,  but  made 
the  time  nine  years.  The  prediction  was  verified,  and  the 
wager  won.  This  anecdote  is  confidently  cited  by  Moslem 
doctors  as  a  proof  that  the  Koran  came  down  from  heaven, 
and  that  Mahomet  possessed  the  gift  of  prophecy.  The  whole, 
if  true,  was  no  doubt  a  shrewd  guess  into  futurity,  suggested 
by  a  knowledge  of  the  actual  state  of  the  warring  powers. 

Not  long  after  his  return  to  Mecca,  Mahomet  was  summoned 
to  close  the  eyes  of  his  uncle,  Abu  Taleb,  then  upward  of  four- 
score years  of  age,  and  venerable  in  character  as  in  person. 
As  the  hour  of  death  drew  nigh,  Mahomet  exhorted  his  uncle 
to  make  the  profession  of  faith  necessary,  according  to  the 
Islam  creed,  to  secure  a  blissful  resurrection. 

A  spark  of  earthly  pride  lingered  in  the  breast  of  the  dying 
patriarch.     ' '  Oh  son  of  my  brother !"  replied  he,  ' '  should  I  re" 


63  MAUOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

peat  those  -words,  the  Koreishites  would  say,  I  did  so  through 
fear  of  death.'" 

Abulfeda,  the  historian,  insists  that  Abu  Taleb  actually  died 
in  the  faith.  Al  Abbas,  he  says,  hung  over  the  bed  of  his  ex- 
piring brother,  and  perceiving  his  lips  to  move,  approached  his 
ear  to  catch  his  dying  words.  They  were  the  wished-f or  confes- 
sion. Others  affirm  that  his  last  words  were,  "I  die  in  the 
faith  o'f  Abd  al  Motalleb."  Commentators  have  sought  to 
reconcile  the  two  accounts  by  asserting  that  Abd  al  Motalleb, 
in  his  latter  days,  renounced  the  worship  of  idols,  and  believed 
in  the  unity  of  God. 

Scarce  three  days  had  elapsed  from  the  death  of  the  vener- 
able Abu  Taleb,  when  Cadijah,  the  faithful  and  devoted  wife 
of  Mahomet,  likewise  sank  into  the  grave.  She  was  sixty -five 
years  of  age.  Mahomet  wept  bitterly  at  her  tomb,  and  clothed 
himself  in  mourning  for  her,  and  for  Abu  Taleb,  so  that  this 
year  was  called  the  year  of  mourning.  He  was  comforted  in 
his  affliction,  says  the  Arabian  author,  Abu  Horaira,  by  an 
assurance  from  the  angel  Gabriel  that  a  silver  palace  was 
allotted  to  Cadijah  in  Paradise,  as  a  reward  for  her  great  faith 
and  her  early  services  to  the  cause. 

Though  Cadijah  had  been  much  older  than  Mahomet  at  the 
time  of  their  marriage,  and  past  the  bloom  of  years  when 
women  are  desirable  in  the  East,  and  though  the  prophet  was 
noted  for  an  amorous  temperament,  yet  he  is  said  to  have 
remained  true  to  her  to  the  last,  nor  ever  availed  himself  of  the 
Arabian  law,  permitting  a  plurality  of  wives,  to  give  her  a 
rival  in  his  house.  When,  however,  she  was  laid  in  the  grave, 
and  the  first  transport  of  his  grief  had  subsided,  he  sought  to 
console  himself  for  her  loss  by  entering  anew  into  wedlock, 
and  henceforth  indulged  in  a  plurality  of  wives.  He  permit- 
ted, by  his  law,  four  wives  to  each  of  his  followers;  but  did 
not  limit  himself  to  that  number;  for  he  observed  that  a 
prophet,  being  peculiarly  gifted  and  privileged,  was  not  bound 
to  restrict  himself  to  the  same  laws  as  ordinary  mortals. 

His  first  choice  was  made  within  a  month  after  the  death  of 
Cadijah,  and  fell  upon  a  beautiful  child  named  Ayesha,  the 
daughter  of  his  faithful  adherent,  Abu  Beker.  Perhaps  he 
sought  by  this  alliance  to  grapple  Abu  Beker  still  more  strongly 
to  his  side ;  he  being  one  of  the  bravest  and  most  popular  of 
his  tribe.  Ayesha,  however,  was  but  seven  years  of  age,  and, 
though  females  soon  bloom  and  ripen  in  those  eastern  climes, 
she  was  yet  too  young  to  enter  into  the  married  state.     He 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  69 

was  merely  betrothed  to  her,  therefore,  and  postponed  their 
nuptials  for  two  years,  during  which  time  he  caused  her  to  bo 
carefully  instructed  in  the  accomplishments  proper  to  an 
Arabian  maiden  of  distinguished  rank. 

Upon  this  wife,  thus  chosen  in  the  very  blossom  of  her  years, 
the  prophet  doted  more  passionately  than  upon  any  of  those 
whom  he  subsequently  married.  All  these  had  been  previously 
experienced  in  wedlock;  Ayesha,  he  said,  was  the  only  one 
who  came  a  pure  unspotted  virgin  to  his  arms. 

Still,  that  he  might  not  be  without  due  solace  while  Ayesha 
was  attaining  the  marriageable  age,  he  took  as  a  wife  Sawda, 
the  widow  of  Sokran,  one  of  his  followers.  She  had  been  nurse 
to  his  daughter  Fatima,  and  was  one  of  the  faithful  who  fled 
into  Abyssinia  from  the  early  persecutions  of  the  people  of 
Mecca.  It  is  pretended  that,  while  in  exile,  she  had  a  mysteri- 
ous intimation  of  the  future  honor  which  awaited  her ;  for  she 
dreamt  that  Mahomet  laid  his  head  upon  her  bosom.  She 
recounted  the  dream  to  her  husband  Sokran,  who  interpreted 
it  as  a  prediction  of  his  speedy  death,  and  of  her  marriage 
with  the  prophet. 

The  marriage,  whether  predicted  or  not,  was  one  of  mere 
expediency.  Mahomet  never  loved  Sawda  with  the  affection 
he  manifested  for  his  other  wives.  He  would  even  have  put 
her  away  in  after  years,  but  she  implored  to  be  allowed  the 
honor  of  stfll  calling  herself  his  wife ;  proffering  that,  whenever 
it  should  come  to  her  turn  to  share  the  marriage  bed,  she 
would  relinquish  her  right  to  Ayesha.  Mahomet  consented  to 
an  arrangement  which  favored  his  love  for  the  latter,  and 
Sawda  continued,  as  long  as  she  lived,  to  be  nominally  his 
wife. 

Mahomet  soon  became  sensible  of  the  loss  he  had  sustained 
in  the  death  of  Abu  Taleb,  who  had  been  not  merely  an  affec- 
tionate relative,  but  a  steadfast  and  powerfid  protector,  from 
his  great  influence  in  Mecca,  At  his  death  there  was  no  one 
to  check  and  counteract  the  hostilities  of  Abu  Sofian  and  Abu 
Jahl,  who  soon  raised  up  such  a  spirit  of  persecution  among 
the  Koreishites  that  Mahomet  found  it  unsafe  to  continue  in 
his  native  place.  He  set  out,  therefore,  accompanied  by  his 
freedman  Zeid,  to  seek  a  refuge  at  Tayef,  a  small  walled  town, 
about  seventy  miles  from  Mecca,  inhabited  by  the  Thakifites, 
or  Arabs  of  the  tribe  of  Thakeef.  It  was  one  of  the  favored 
places  of  Arabia,  situated  among  vineyards  and  gardens. 
Here  grew  peaches  and  plums,  melons  and  pomegranates :  fign. 


70  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

blue  and  green,  the  nebeek-tree  producing  the  lotus,  and  pahn- 
trees  with  their  clusters  of  green  and  golden  fruit.  So  fresh 
were  its  pastures  and  fruitful  its  fields,  contrasted  with  the 
sterility  of  the  neighboring  deserts,  that  the  Arabs  fabled  it  to 
have  originally  been  a  part  of  Syria,  broken  off  and  floated 
hither  at  the  time  of  the  deluge. 

Mahomet  entered  the  gates  of  Tayef  with  some  degree  of 
confidence,  trusting  for  protection  to  the  influence  of  his  uncle 
Al  Abbas,  who  had  possessions  there.  He  could  not  have 
chosen  a  worse  place  of  refuge.  Tayef  was  one  of  the  strong- 
holds of  idolatry.  Here  was  maintained  in  all  its  force  the 
worship  of  El  Lat,  one  of  the  female  idols  already  mentioned. 
Her  image  of  stone  was  covered  with  jewels  and  precious 
stones,  the  offerings  of  her  votaries ;  it  was  believed  to  be  in- 
spired with  life,  and  the  intercession  of  El  Lat  was  implored  as 
one  of  the  daughters  of  God. 

Mahomet  remained  about  a  month  in  Tayef,  seeking  in  vain 
to  make  proselytes  among  its  inhabitants.  When  he  attempt- 
ed to  preach  his  doctrines,  his  voice  was  drowned  by  clamors. 
More  than  once  be  was  wounded  by  stones  thrown  at  him, 
and  which  the  faithful  Zeid  endeavored  in  vain  to  ward  off. 
So  violent  did  the  popular  fury  become  at  last  that  he  was 
driven  from  the  city,  and  even  pursued  for  some  distance  be- 
yond the  walls  by  an  insulting  rabble  of  slaves  and  children. 

Thus  driven  ignominiously  from  his  hoped-for  place  of 
refuge,  and  not  daring  to  return  openly  to  his  native  city,  he 
remained  in  the  desert  until  Zeid  should  procure  a  secret 
asylum  for  him  among  his  friends  in  Mecca.  In  this  extrem- 
ity he  had  one  of  those  visions  or  supernatural  visitations 
which  appear  always  to  have  occurred  in  lonely  or  agitated 
moments,  when  we  may  suppose  him  to  have  been  in  a  state 
of  mental  excitement.  In  was  after  the  evening  prayer,  he 
says,  in  a  solitary  place  in  the  valley  of  Naklah,  between 
Mecca  and  Tayef.  He  was  reading  the  Koran,  when  he  was 
overheard  by  a  passing  company  of  Gins  or  Genii.  These  are 
spiritual  beings,  some  good,  others  bad,  and  liable  like  man  to 
future  rewards  and  punishments.  t(  Hark!  give  ear!"  said  the 
Genii  one  to  the  other.  They  paused  and  listened  as  Maho- 
met continued  to  read.  "  Verily,"  said  they  at  the  end,  "we 
have  heard  an  admirable  discourse,  jvhich  directeth  unto  the 
right  institution;  wherefore  we  believe  therein." 

This  spiritual  visitation  consoled  Mahomet  for  his  expulsion 
from  Tayef,  showing  that  though  he  and  his  doctrines  might 


MAHOMET  AM)  EI8  8UGCE8B0R8.  71 

be  rejected  by  men,  tbey  were  held  in  reverence  by  spiritual 
intelligences.  At  least,  so  we  may  infer  from,  the  mention  he 
makes  of  it  in  the  forty- sixth  and  seventy -second  chapters  of 
the  Koran.  Thenceforward  he  declared  liimself  sent  for  the 
conversion  of  these  genii  as  well  as  of  the  human  race. 

Note.— The  belief  in  genii  was  prevalent  throughout  the  East,  long  before  the 
time  of  Mahomet.  They  were  supposed  to  haunt  solitary  places,  particularly 
toward  nightfall;  a  superstition  congenial  to  the  habits  and  notions  of  the  inhabi- 
tants of  lonely  and  desert  countries.  The  Arabs  supposed  every  valley  and  barren 
waste  to  have  its  tribe  of  genii,  who  wero  subject  to  a  dominant  spirit,  and  roamed 
forth  at  night  to  beset  the  pilgrim  and  the  traveller.  Whenever,  therefore,  they 
entered  a  lonely  valley  toward  the  close  of  evening,  they  used  to  supplicate  the 
presiding  spirit  or  lord  of  the  place  to  protect  them  from  the  evil  genii  under  his 
command. 

Those  columns  of  dust  raised  by  whirling  eddies  of  wind,  and  which  sweep  across 
the  desert,  are  supposed  to  be  caused  by  some  evil  genius  or  sprite  of  gigantic 
size. 

The  serpents  which  occasionally  infest  houses  were  thought  to  be  often  genii, 
some  infidels  und  pome  believers.  Mahomet  cautioned  his  followers  to  be  slow  to 
kill  a  house  serpent.  "  Warn  him  to  depart;  if  he  do  not  obey,  then  kill  him,  for  it 
is  a  sign  that  he  is  a  mere  reptile  or  an  infidel  genius." 

It  is  fabled  that  in  earlier  times  the  genii  had  admission  to  heaven,  but  were  ex- 
pelled on  account  of  their  meddling  propensities.  They  have  ever  since  been  of  a 
curious  and  prying  nature,  often  attempting  to  clamber  up  to  the  constellations; 
thence  to  peep  into  heaven,  and  see  and  overhear  what  is  going  on  there.  They 
are,  however,  driven  thence  by  angels  with  flaming  swords;  and  those  meteors 
called  shooting  stars  are  supposed  by  Mahometans  to  be  darted  by  the  guardian 
angels  at  these  intrusive  genii. 

Other  legends  pretend  that  the  earth  was  originally  peopled  by  these  genii, 
but  they  rebelled  against  the  Most  High,  and  usurped  terrestrial  dominion,  which 
they  maintained  for  two  thousand  years.  At  length,  Azazil,  or  Lucifer,  was  sent 
against  them,  and  defeated  them,  overthrowing  their  mighty  king  Gian  ben  Gian, 
the  founder  of  the  pyramids,  whose  magic  buckler  of  talismanic  virtue  fell  subse- 
quently into  the  hands  of  king  Solomon  the  Wise,  giving  him  power  over  the  spells 
and  charms  of  magicians  and  evil  genii.  The  rebel  spirits,  defeated  and  humili- 
ated, were  driven  into  an  obscure  corner  of  the  earth.  Then  it  was  that  God 
created  man,  with  less  dangerous  faculties  and  powers,  and  gave  him  the  world  for 
a  habitation. 

The  ansrels,  according  to  Moslem  .lotions,  were  created  from  bright  gems;  the 
genii  from  fire  without  smoke,  and  Adam  from  clay. 

Mahomet,  when  in  the  seventy-second  chapter  of  the  Koran  he  alludes  to  the 
visitation  of  the  genii  in  the  valley  of  Naklah,  makes  them  give  the  following  frank 
account  of  themselves: 

"We  formerly  attempted  to  pry  into  what  was  transacting  in  heaven,  but  we 
found  the  same  guarded  by  angels  with  flaming  darts;  and  we  sat  on  some  of  the 
seats  thereof  to  hear  the  discourse  of  its  inhabitants;  but  whoso  listeneth  now  finds 
a  flame  prepared  to  guard  the  celestial  confines.  There  are  some  among:  us  who 
are  Moslems,  and  there  are  others  who  swerve  from  righteousness.  Whoso  em- 
braceth  Islamism  seeketh  the  true  direction;  but  those  who  swerve  from  righteous- 
ness shall  be  fuel  for  the  fire  of  Jehennam." 


72  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

NIGHT  JOURNEY  OF  THE  PROPHET  FROM  MECCA  TO  JERUSALEM. 
AND  THENCE  TO  THE  SEVENTH  HEAVEN. 

An  asylum  being  provided  for  Mahomet  in  the  house  of 
Mutem  Ibn  Adi,  one  of  his  disciples,  he  ventured  to  return  to 
Mecca.  The  supernatural  visitation  of  genii  in  the  valley  of 
Naklah  was  soon  followed  by  a  vision  or  revelation  far  more 
extraordinary,  and  which  has  ever  since  remained  a  theme  of 
comment  and  conjecture  among  devout  Mahometans.  "Vve 
allude  to  the  famous  night  journey  to  Jerusalem,  and  thence 
to  the  seventh  heaven.  The  particulars  of  it,  though  given  as 
if  in  the  very  words  of  Mahomet,  rest  merely  on  tradition; 
some,  however,  cite  texts  corroborative  of  it,  scattered  here 
and  there  in  the  Koran. 

We  do  not  pretend  to  give  this  vision  or  revelation  in  its 
amplitude  and  wild  extravagance,  but  will  endeavor  to  seize 
upon  its  most  essential  features. 

The  night  on  which  it  occurred  is  described  as  one  of  the 
darkest  and  most  awfully  silent  that  had  ever  been  known. 
There  was  no  crowing  of  cocks  nor  barking  of  dogs ;  no  howl- 
ing of  wild  beasts  nor  hooting  of  owls.  The  very  waters  ceased 
to  murmur,  and  the  winds  to  whistle;  all  nature  seemed 
motionless  and  dead.  In  the  mid  watches  of  the  night  Ma- 
homet was  roused  by  a  voice,  crying,  ' '  Awake,  thou  sleeper !" 
The  angel  Gabriel  stood  before  him.  His  forehead  was  clear 
and  serene,  his  complexion  white  as  snow,  his  hair  floated  on 
his  shoulders ;  he  had  wings  of  many  dazzling  hues,  and  his 
robes  were  sown  with  pearls  and  embroidered  with  gold. 

He  brought  Mahomet  a  white  steed  of  wonderful  form  and 
quahties,  unlike  any  animal  he  had  ever  seen ;  and  in  truth  it 
differs  from  any  animal  ever  before  described.  It  had  a 
human  face,  but  the  cheeks  of  a  horse;  its  eyes  were  as  ja- 
cinths and  radiant  as  stars.  It  had  eagle's  wings  all  glittering 
with  rays  of  light ;  and  its  whole  form  was  resplendent  with 
gems  and  precious  stones.  It  was  a  female,  and  from  its  daz- 
zling splendor  and  incredible  velocity  was  called  Al  Borak,  or 
Lightning. 


MAHOMET  AND  MS  SUCCESSORS.  73 

Mahomet  prepared  to  mount  this  supernatural  steed,  but  as 
he  extended  his  hand,  it  drew  back  and  reared. 

"Be  still,  oh  Borak !"  said  Gabriel;  "respect  the  prophet  of 
God.  Never  wert  thou  mounted  by  mortal  man  more  honored 
of  Allah." 

"  Oh  Gabriel!"  replied  Al  Borak,  who  at  this  time  was  mi- 
raculously endowed  with  speech ;  "did  not  Abraham  of  old,  the 
friend  of  God,  bestride  me  when  he  visited  his  son  Ishmael? 
Oh  Gabriel!  is  not  this  the  mediator,  the  intercessor,  the 
author  of  the  profession  of  faith?" 

"Even  so,  oh  Borak,  this  is  Mahomet  Ibn  Abdallah,  of  one 
of  the  tribes  of  Arabia  the  Happy,  and  of  the  true  faith.  He  is 
chief  of  the  sons  of  Adam,  the  greatest  of  the  divine  legates, 
the  seal  of  the  prophets.  All  creatures  must  have  his  interces- 
sion before  they  can  enter  paradise.  Heaven  is  on  his  right 
hand,  to  be  the  reward  of  those  who  believe  in  him :  the  fire  of 
Jehennam  is  on  his  left  band,  into  which  all  shall  be  thrust 
who  oppose  his  doctrines." 

"Oh  Gabriel!"  entreated  Al  Borak;  "by  the  faith  existing 
between  thee  and  him,  prevail  on  him  to  intercede  for  me  at 
the  day  of  the  resurrection." 

"Be  assured,  oh  Borak !"  exclaimed  Mahomet,  " that  through 
my  intercession  thou  shalt  enter  paradise. " 

No  sooner  had  he  uttered  these  words  than  the  animal  ap- 
proached and  submitted  to  be  mounted,  then  rising  with  Ma- 
homet on  its  back,  it  soared  aloft  far  above  the  mountains  of 
Mecca. 

As  they  passed  like  lightning  between  heaven  and  earth, 
Gabriel  cried  aloud,  "Stop,  oh  Mahomet!  descend  to  the  earth, 
and  make  the  prayer  with  two  inflections  of  the  body." 

They  alighted  on  the  earth,  and  having  made  the  prayer — 

"Oh  friend  and  well  beloved  of  my  soxu,"  said  Mahomet, 
"  why  dost  thou  command  me  to  pray  in  this  place?" 

' '  Because  it  is  Mount  Sinai,  on  which  God  communed  with 
Moses." 

Mounting  aloft,  they  again  passed  rapidly  between  heaven 
and  earth,  until  Gabriel  called  out  a  second  time,  "Stop,  oh 
Mahomet!  descend  and  make  the  prayer  with  two  inflections." 

They  descended,  Mahomet  prayed,  and  again  demanded, 
"Why  didst  thou  command  me  to  pray  in  this  place?" 

"  Because  it  is  Bethlehem,  where  Jesus  the  Son  of  Mary  was 
born. " 

They  resumed  their  course  through  the  air,  until  a  voice  was 


74  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

heard  on  the  right,  exclaiming,  "Oh  Mahomet,  tarry  a  mo- 
ment, that  I  may  speak  to  thee;  of  all  created  beings  I  am 
most  devoted  to  thee." 

But  Borak  pressed  forward,  and  Mahomet  forbore  to  tarry, 
for  he  felt  that  it  was  not  with  him  to  stay  his  course,  but  with 
God,  the  all-powerful  and  glorious. 

Another  voice  was  now  heard  on  the  left,  calling  on  Mahomet 
in  like  words  to  tarry ;  but  Borak  still  pressed  forward,  and 
Mahomet  tarried  not.  He  now  beheld  before  him  a  damsel  of 
ravishing  beauty,  adorned  with  all  the  luxury  and  riches  of 
the  earth.  She  beckoned  him  with  alluring  smiles:  "  Tarry  a 
moment,  oh  Mahomet,  that  1  may  talk  with  thee.  I,  who,  of 
all  beings,  am  the  most  devoted  to  thee."  But  still  Borak 
pressed  on,  and  Mahomet  tarried  not ;  considering  that  it  was 
not  with  him  to  stay  his  course,  but  with  God  the  all-powerful 
and  glorious. 

Addressing  himself,  however,  to  Gabriel,  "What  voices  are 
those  I  have  heard?"  said  he;  "and  what  damsel  is  this  who 
has  beckoned  to  me?" 

"The  first,  oh  Mahomet,  was  the  voice  of  a  Jew;  hadst  thou 
listened  to  him,  all  thy  nation  would  have  been  won  to  Juda- 
ism. 

' '  The  second  was  the  voice  of  a  Christian ;  hadst  thou  lis- 
tened to  him,  thy  people  would  have  inclined  to  Christianity. 

"  The  damsel  was  the  world,  with  all  its  riches,  its  vanities, 
and  allurements ;  hadst  thou  listened  to  her,  thy  nation  would 
have  chosen  the  pleasures  of  this  life,  rather  than  the  bliss  of 
eternity,  and  all  would  have  been  doomed  to  perdition." 

Continuing  their  aerial  course,  they  arrived  at  the  gate  of 
the  holy  temple  at  Jerusalem,  where,  alighting  from  Al  Borak, 
Mahomet  fastened  her  to  the  rings  where  the  prophets  before 
him  had  fastened  her.  Then  entering  the  temple  he  found 
there  Abraham,  and  Moses,  and  Isa  (Jesus),  and  many  more  of 
the  prophets.  After  he  had  prayed  in  company  with  them  for 
a  time,  a  ladder  of  light  was  let  down  from  heaven,  until  the 
lower  end  rested  on  the  Shakra,  or  foundation  stone  of  the 
sacred  house,  being  the  stone  of  Jacob.  Aided  by  the  angel 
Gabriel,  Mahomet  ascended  this  ladder  with  the  rapidity  of 
lightning. 

Being  arrived  at  the  first  heaven,  Gabriel  knocked  at  the 
gate.  Who  is  there?  was  demanded  from  within.  Gabinel. 
Who  is  with  thee?  Mahomet.  Has  he  received  his  mission? 
He  has.    Then  he  is  welcome !  and  the  gate  was  opened. 


MAHOMET  AMJ  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  75 

This  first  heaven  was  cf  pure  silver;  and  in  its  resplendent 
vault  the  stars  are  suspended  by  chains  of  gold.  In  each  star 
an  angel  is  placed  sentinel,  to  prevent  the  demons  from  scaling 
the  sacred  abodes.  As  Mahomet  entered  an  ancient  man  ap- 
proached him,  and  Gabriel  said,  "Here  is  thy  father  Adam, 
pay  him  reverence."  Mahomet  did  so,  and  Adam  embraced 
him,  calling  him  the  greatest  among  his  children,  and  the  first 
among  the  prophets. 

In  this  heaven  were  innumerable  animals  of  all  kinds,  which 
Gabriel  said  were  angels,  who,  under  these  forms,  interceded 
with  Allah  for  the  various  races  of  animals  upon  earth. 
Among  these  was  a  cock  of  dazzling  whiteness,  and  of  such 
marvellous  height  that  his  crest  touched  the  second  heaven, 
though  five  hundred  years'  journey  above  the  first.  This  won- 
derful bird  saluted  the  ear  of  Allah  each  morning  with  his 
melodious  chant.  All  creatures  on  earth,  save  man,  aro 
awakened  by  his  voice,  and  all  the  fowls  of  his  kind  chant  hal- 
lelujahs in  emulation  cf  his  note.* 

They  now  ascended  to  the  second  heaven.  Gabriel,  as 
before,  knocked  at  the  gate;  the  same  questions  and  replies 
were  exchanged ;  the  door  opened  and  they  entered, 

This  heaven  was  all  of  polished  steel,  and  dazzling  splendor. 
Here  they  found  Noah,  who,  embracing  Mahomet,  hailed  him 
as  the  greatest  among  the  prophets. 

Arrived  at  the  third  heaven,  they  entered  with  the  same 
ceremonies.  It  was  all  studded  with  precious  stones,  and  too 
brilliant  for  mortal  eyes.  Here  was  seated  an  angel  of  immea- 
surable height,  whose  eyes  were  seventy  thousand  days'  jour- 
ney apart.    He  had  at  his  command  a  hundred  thousand  batta- 


*  There  are  three  to  which,  say  the  Moslem  doctors,  God  always  lends  a  willing 
ear:  the  voice  of  him  who  reads  the  Koran;  of  him  who  prays  for  pardon;  and  of 
this  cock  who  crows  to  the  glory  of  the  Most  High.  When  the  last  day  is  near, 
they  add,  Allah  will  bid  this  bird  to  close  his  wings  and  chant  no  more.  Then  all 
the  cocks  on  earth  will  cease  to  crow,  and  their  silence  wiii  be  a  sign  that  the  great 
day  of  judgment  is  impending. 

The  Reverend  Dr.  Humphrey  Prideaux,  Dean  of  Norwich,  in  his  Life  of  Mahomet, 
accuses  him  of  having  stolen  this  wonderful  cock  from  the  tract  Cava  Bartha  of 
the  Babylonish  Talmud,  "  wherein,"  says  he,  "  we  have  a  story  of  such  a  prodi- 
gious bird,  called  Zig,  which,  standing  with  his  feet  on  the  earth,  reacheth  up  to 
the  heavens  with  his  head,  and  with  the  spreading  of  his  wings  darkeneth  the  whole 
orb  of  the  sun,  and  causeth  a  total  eclipse  thereof.  This  bird  the  Chaldee  para- 
phrast  on  the  Psalms  says  Is  a  cock,  and  that  he  crows  before  the  Lord;  and  the 
Ohaldpe  paraphrast  on  Job  tells  us  of  his  crowing  every  morning  before  the  Lord, 
pad  that  God  giveth  him  wisdom  for  that  purpose." 


76  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

Kons  of  armed  men.     Before  him  was  spread  a  vast  book,  in 
which  he  was  continually  writing  and  blotting  out. 

"This,  oh  Mahomet,"  said  Gabriel,  "is  Azrael,  the  angel  of 
death,  who  is  in  the  confidence  of  Allah.  In  the  book  before 
him  he  is  continually  writing  the  names  of  those  who  are  to  be 
born,  and  blotting  out  the  names  of  those  who  have  lived 
their  allotted  time,  and  who,  therefore,  instantly  die. " 

They  now  mounted  to  the  fourth  heaven,  formed  of  the 
finest  silver.  Among  the  angels  who  inhabited  it  was  one  five 
hundred  days'  journey  in  height.  His  countenance  was  trou- 
bled, and  river?  of  tears  ran  from  his  eyes.  "This,"  said 
Gabriel,  ' '  is  the  angel  of  tears,  appointed  to  weep  over  the  sins 
of  the  children  of  men,  and  to  predict  the  evils  which  await 
them. " 

The  fifth  heaven  was  of  the  finest  gold.  Here  Mahomet  was 
received  by  Aaron  with  embraces  and  congratulations  The 
avenging  angel  dwells  in  this  heaven,  and  presides  over  the 
element  of  fire.  Of  all  the  angels  seen  by  Mahomet,  he  was 
the  most  hideous  and  terrific.  His  visage  seemed  of  copper, 
and  was  covered  with  wens  and  warts.  His  eyes  flashed  light- 
ning, and  he  grasped  a  flaming  lance.  He  sat  on  a  throne  sur- 
rounded by  flames,  and  before  him  was  a  heap  of  red-hot 
chains.  Were  he  to  alight  upon  earth  in  his  true  form,  the 
mountains  would  be  consumed,  the  seas  dried  up,  and  all  the 
inhabitants  would  die  with  terror.  To  him,  and  the  angels  his 
ministers,  is  intrusted  the  execution  of  divine  vengeance  on 
infidels  and  sinners. 

Leaving  this  awful  abode,  they  mounted  to  the  sixth  heaven, 
composed  of  a  transparent  stone,  called  Hasala,  which  may  be 
rendered  carbuncle.  Here  was  a  great  angel,  composed  half  of 
snow  and  half  of  fire ;  yet  the  snow  melted  not,  nor  was  the 
fire  extinguished.  Around  him  a  choir  of  lesser  angels  con- 
tinually exclaimed,  "Oh  Allah!  who  hast  united  snow  and 
fire,  unite  all  thy  faithful  servants  in  obedience  to  thy  law." 

'  This,"  said  Gabriel,  "  is  the  guardian  angel  of  heaven  and 
earth.  It  is  he  who  dispatches  angels  unto  individuals  of  thy 
nation,  to  incline  them  in  favor  of  thy  mission,  and  call  them 
to  the  service  of  God ;  and  he  will  continue  to  do  so  until  the 
day  of  resurrection." 

Here  was  the  prophet  Musa  (Moses),  who,  however,  instead 
of  welcoming  Mahomet  with  joy,  as-the  other  prophets  had 
done,  shed  tears  at  sight  of  him. 

"Wherefore  dost  thou  weep?"  inquired  Mahomet.    " Because 


MAHOMET  AND  JUS  SUCCESSORS.  77 

I  behold  a  successor  who  is  destined  to  conduct  more  of  his 
nation  into  paradise  than  ever  I  could  of  the  backsliding  chil- 
dren of  Israel. " 

Mounting  hence  to  the  seventh  heaven,  Mahomet  was  re- 
ceived by  the  patriarch  Abraham.  This  blissful  abode  is 
formed  of  divine  light,  and  of  such  transcendent  glory  that  the 
tongue  of  man  cannot  describe  it.  One  of  its  celestial  inhabi- 
tants will  suffice  to  give  an  idea  of  the  rest.  He  surpassed  the 
whole  earth  in  magnitude,  and  had  seventy  thousand  heads; 
each  head  seventy  thousand  mouths;  each  mouth  seventy 
thousand  tongues ;  each  tongue  spoke  seventy  thousand  differ- 
ent languages,  and  all  these  were  incessantly  employed  in 
chanting  the  praises  of  the  Most  High. 

While  contemplating  this  wonderful  being  Mahomet  was 
suddenly  transported  aloft  to  the  lotus-tree,  called  Sedrat, 
which  flourishes  on  the  right  hand  of  the  invisible  throne  of 
Allah.  The  branches  of  this  tree  extend  wider  than  the  dis- 
tance between  the  sun  and  the  earth.  Angels  more  numerous 
than  the  sands  of  the  sea-shore,  or  of  the  beds  of  all  the 
streams  and  rivers,  rejoice  beneath  its  shade.  The  leaves  re- 
semble the  ears  of  an  elephant ;  thousands  of  immortal  birds 
sport  among  its  brances,  repeating  the  sublime  verses  of  the 
Koran.  Its  fruits  are  milder  than  milk  and  sweeter  than 
honey.  If  all  the  creatures  of  God  were  assembled,  one  of 
these  fruits  would  be  sufficient  for  their  sustenance.  Each 
seed  encloses  a  houri,  or  celestial  virgin,  provided  for  the  feli- 
city of  true  believers.  From  this  tree  issue  four  rivers ;  two 
flow  into  the  interior  of  paradise,  two  issue  beyond  it,  and 
become  the  Nile  and  Euphrates. 

Mahomet  and  his  celestial  guide  now  proceeded  to  Al  Mainour, 
or  the  House  of  Adoration,  formed  of  red  jacinths  or  rubies, 
and  surrounded  by  innumerable  lamps,  perpetually  burning. 
As  Mahomet  entered  the  portal,  three  vases  were  offered  him, 
one  containing  wine,  another  milk,  and  the  third  honey.  He 
took  and  drank  of  the  vase  containing  milk. 

"  Well  hast  thou  done ;  auspicious  is  thy  choice, "  exclaimed 
Gabriel.  "  Hadst  thou  drunk  of  the  wine,  thy  people  had  all 
gone  astray." 

The  sacred  house  resembles  in  form  the  Caaba  at  Mecca,  and 
is  perpendicularly  above  it  in  the  seventh  heaven.  It  is  visited 
every  day  by  seventy  thousand  angels  of  the  highest  order. 
They  were  at  this  very  time  making  their  holy  circuit,  and 
Mahomet,  joining  with  them,  walked  round  it  seventimes. 


78  MAHOMET  AND   HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

Gabriel  could  go  no  farther.  Mahomet  now  traversed,  quicker 
than  thought,  an  immense  space;  passing  through  two  regions 
of  dazzling  light,  and  one  of  profound  darkness.  Emerging 
from  this  utter  gloom,  he  was  filled  with  awe  and  terror  at 
finding  himself  in  the  presence  of  Allah,  and  but  two  bow- 
shots from  his  throne.  The  face  of  the  Deity  was  covered 
with  twenty  thousand  veils,  for  it  would  have  annihilated  man 
to  look  upon  its  glory.  He  put  forth  his  hands,  and  placed  one 
upon  the  breast  and  the  other  upon  the  shoulder  of  Mahomet, 
who  felt  a  freezing  chill  penetrate  to  his  heart  and  to  the  very 
marrow  of  his  bones.  It  was  followed  by  a  feeling  of  ecstatic 
bliss,  while  a  sweetness  and  fragrance  prevailed  around,  which 
none  can  understand  but  those  who  have  been  in  the  divine 
presence. 

Mahomet  now  received  from  the  Deity  himself,  many  of  the 
doctrines  contained  in  the  Koran ;  and  fifty  prayers  were  pre- 
scribed as  the  daily  duty  of  all  true  believers. 

When  he  descended  from  the  divine  presence  and  again  met 
with  Moses,  the  latter  demanded  what  Allah  had  required. 
"  That  I  should  make  fifty  prayers  every  day." 

"And  thinkest  thou  to  accomplish  such  a  task?  I  have  made 
the  experiment  before  thee.  I  tried  it  with  the  children  of 
Israel,  but  in  vain ;  return,  then,  and  beg  a  diminution  of  the 
task." 

Mahomet  returned  accordingly,  and  obtained  a  diminution 
of  ten  prayers ;  but  when  he  related  his  success  to  Moses,  the 
latter  made  the  same  objection  to  the  daily  amount  of  forty. 
By  his  advice  Mahomet  returned  repeatedly,  until  the  number 
was  reduced  to  five. 

Moses  still  objected.  "Thinkest  thou  to  exact  five  prayers 
daily  from  thy  people?  By  Allah!  I  have  had  experience  with 
the  children  of  Israel,  and  such  a  demand  is  vain ;  return,  there- 
fore, and  entreat  still  further  mitigation  of  the  task. " 

" No, "  replied  Mahomet,  "I  have  already  asked  indulgence 
until  I  am  ashamed."  With  these  words  he  saluted  Moses  and 
departed. 

By  the  ladder  of  light  he  descended  to  the  temple  of  Jerusa- 
lem, where  he  found  Borak  fastened  as  he  had  left  her,  and 
mounting,  was  borne  back  in  an  instant  to  the  place  whence 
he  had  first  been  taken. 

This  account  of  the  vision,  or  nocturnal  journey,  is  chiefly 
according  to  the  words  of  the  historians  Abulfeda,  Al  Bokhari, 
and  Abu  Horeira,  and  is  given  more  at  large  in  the  Life  of  Ma- 


UAflOMh'T  AND   HIS  SUCCESSORS.  70 

hornet  by  Gagnier.  The  journey  itself  has  given  rise  to  endless 
commentaries  and  disputes  among  the  doctors.  Some  affirm 
that  it  was  no  more  than  a  dream  or  vision  of  the  night,  and 
support  their  assertion  by  a  tradition  derived  from  Ayesha,  the 
wife  of  Mahomet,  who  declared  that,  on  the  night  in  question, 
his  body  remained  perfectly  still,  and  it  was  only  in  spirit  that 
he  made  his  nocturnal  journey.  In  giving  this  tradition,  how- 
ever, they  did  not  consider  that  at  the  time  the  journey  was 
said  to  have  taken  place,  Ayesha  was  still  a  child,  and,  though 
espoused,  had  not  become  the  wife  of  Mahomet. 

Others  insist  that  he  made  the  celestial  journey  bodily,  and 
that  the  whole  was  miraculously  effected  in  so  short  a  space  of 
time,  that,  on  his  return,  he  was  able  to  prevent  the  complete 
overturn  of  a  vase  of  water  which  the  angel  Gabriel  had  struck 
with  his  wing  on  his  departure. 

Others  say  that  Mahomet  only  pretended  to  have  made  the 
nocturnal  journey  to  the  temple  of  Jerusalem,  and  that  the 
subsequent  ascent  to  heaven  was  a  vision.  According  to  Ah- 
med ben  Joseph,  the  noctxirnal  visit  to  the  temple  was  testified 
by  the  patriarch  of  Jerusalem  himself.  "At  the  time,"  says 
he,  ' '  that  Mahomet  sent  an  envoy  to  the  emperor  Heraclius,  at 
Constantinople,  inviting  him  to  embrace  Isiamism,  the  patri- 
arch was  in  the  presence  of  the  emperor.  The  envoy  having 
related  the  nocturnal  journey  of  the  prophet,  the  patriarch 
was  seized  with  astonishment,  and  informed  the  emperor  of  a 
circumstance  coinciding  with  the  narrative  of  the  envoy.  '  It 
is  my  custom,'  said  he,  '  never  to  retire  to  rest  at  night  until  I 
have  fastened  every  door  of  the  temple.  On  the  night  here 
mentioned,  I  closed  them  according  to  my  custom,  but  there 
was  one  which  it  was  impossible  to  move.  Upon  this,  I  sent 
for  the  carpenters,  who,  having  inspected  the  door,  declared 
that  the  lintel  over  the  portal,  and  the  edifice  itself,  had  settled 
to  such  a  degree  that  it  was  out  of  their  power  to  close  the 
door.  I  was  obliged,  therefore,  to  leave  it  open.  Early  in  the 
morning  at  the  break  of  day  I  repaired  thither,  and  behold, 
the  stone  placed  at  the  corner  of  the  temple  was  perforated, 
and  there  were  vestiges  of  the  place  where  Al  Borak  had  been 
fastened.  Then,  said  I,  to  those  present,  this  portal  would  not 
have  remained  fixed  unless  some  prophet  had  been  here  to 
pray.'" 

Traditions  go  on  to  say  that  when  Mahomet  narrated  his 
nocturnal  joitrney  to  a  large  assembly  in  Mecca,  many  mar- 
velled yet  believed,  some  were  perplexed  with  doubt, 'but  the 


80  MAHOMRT  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

Koreishites  laughed  it  to  scorn.  ' '  Thou  say  est  that  thou  hast 
been  to  the  temple  of  Jerusalem,"  said  Abu  Jahl;  "  prove  the 
truth  of  thy  words  by  giving  a  description  of  it." 

For  a  moment  Mahomet  was  embarrassed  by  the  demand, 
for  he  had  visited  the  temple  in  the  night,  when  its  form  was 
not  discernible;  suddenly,  however,  the  angel  Gabriel  stood  by 
his  side,  and  placed  before  his  eyes  an  exact  type  of  the  sacred 
edifice,  so  that  he  was  enabled  instantly  to  answer  the  most 
minute  questions. 

The  story  still  transcended  the  belief  even  of  some  of  Ms 
disciples,  untd  Abu  Beker,  seeing  them  wavering  in  their  faith, 
and  in  danger  of  backsliding,  roundly  vouched  for  the  truth  of 
it ;  in  reward  for  which  support,  Mahomet  gave  him  the  title  of 
At  Seddek,  or  the  Testifier  to  the  Truth,  by  which  he  was 
thenceforth  distinguished. 

As  we  have  already  observed,  this  nocturnal  journey  rests 
almost  entirely  upon  tradition,  though  some  of  its  circum- 
stances are  vaguely  alluded  to  in  the  Koran.  The  whole  may 
be  a  fancifid  superstructure  of  Moslem  fanatics  on  one  of 
those  visions  or  ecstasies  to  which  Mahomet  was  prone,  and 
the  relation  of  which  caused  him  to  be  stigmatised  by  the 
Koreishites  as  a  madman. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

MAHOMET  MAKES  CONVERTS  OP  PILGRIMS  FROM  MEDINA— DETER- 
MINES TO  FLY  TO  THAT  CITY — A  PLOT  TO  SLAY  HIM — HIS 
MIRACULOUS  ESCAPE— HIS  HEGIRA,  OR  FLIGHT— HIS  RECEP- 
TION AT  MEDINA. 

The  fortunes  of  Mahomet  were  becoming  darker  and  darker 
in  his  native  place.  Cadi j ah,  his  original  benefactress,  the 
devoted  companion  of  his  solitude  and  seclusion,  the  zealous 
believer  in  his  doctrines,  was  in  her  grave;  so  also  was  Abu 
Taleb,  once  his  faithful  and  efficient  protector.  Deprived  of 
the  sheltering  influence  of  the  latter,  Mahomet  had  become, 
in  a  manner,  an  outlaw,  in  Mecca ;  obliged  to  conceal  himself, 
and  remain  a  burden  on  the  hospitality  of  those  whom  Ms 
own  doctrines  had  involved  in  persecution.  If  worldly 
advantage  had  been  his  object,  how  had  it  been  attained? 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  81 

Upward  of  ten  years  had  elapsed  since  first  he  announced  his 
prophetic  mission;  ten  long  years  of  enmity,  trouble,  and 
misfortune.  Still  he  persevered,  and  now,  at  a  period  of  life 
when  men  seek  to  enjoy  in  repose  the  fruition  of  the  past, 
rather  than  risk  all  in  new  schemes  for  the  future,  we  find 
him,  after  having  sacrificed  ease,  fortune,  and  friends,  pre- 
pared to  give  up  home  and  country  also,  rather  than  his 
religious  creed. 

As  soon  as  the  privileged  time  of  pilgrimage  arrived,  he 
emerged  once  more  from  his  concealment,  and  mingled  with 
the  multitude  assembled  from  all  parts  of  Arabia.  His 
earnest  desire  was  to  find  some  powerful  tribe,  or  the  inhabi- 
tants of  some  important  city,  capable  and  willing  to  receive 
him  as  a  guest,  and  protect  him  in  the  enjoyment  and  propa- 
gation of  his  faith. 

His  quest  was  for  a  time  unsuccessful.  Those  who  had 
come  to  worship  at  the  Caaba  drew  back  from  a  man  stigma- 
tized as  an  apostate;  and  the  worldly-minded  were  unwilling 
to  befriend  one  proscribed  by  the  powerful  of  his  native  place. 

At  length,  as  he  was  one  day  preaching  on  the  hill  Al 
Akaba,  a  little  to  the  north  of  Mecca,  he  drew  the  attention  of 
certain  pilgrims  from  the  city  of  Yathreb.  This  city,  since 
called  Medina,  was  about  two  hundred  and  seventy  miles 
north  of  Mecca.  Many  of  its  inhabitants  were  Jews  and 
heretical  Christians.  The  pilgrims  in  question  were  pure 
Arabs  of  the  ancient  and  powerful  tribe  of  Khazradites,  and 
in  habits  of  friendly  intercourse  with  the  Xeneedites  and 
Naderites,  two  Jewish  tribes  inhabiting  Mecca  who  claimed  to 
be  of  the  sacerdotal  line  of  Aaron.  The  pilgrims  had  often 
heard  their  Jewish  friends  explain  the  mysteries  of  their  faith, 
and  talk  of  an  expected  Messiah.  They  were  moved  by  the 
eloquence  of  Mahomet,  and  struck  with  the  resemblance  of 
his  doctrines  to  those  of  tbe  Jewish  law ;  insomuch  that  when 
they  heard  him  proclaim  himself  a  prophet,  sent  by  heaven  to 
restore  the  ancient  faith,  they  said,  one  to  another,  "Surely 
phis  must  be  the  promised  Messiah  of  which  we  have  been 
told."  The  more  they  listened,  the  stronger  became  their 
persuasion  of  the  fact,  until  in  the  end  they  avowed  their 
conviction,  and  made  a  final  profession  of  the  faith. 

As  the  Khazradites  belonged  to  one  of  the  most  powerfid 
tribes  of  Yathreb,  Maho'met  sought  to  secure  their  protection, 
and  proposed  to  accompany  them  on  their  return;  but  they 
informed  him  that  they  were  at  deadly  feud  with  the  Awsites, 


82  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

another  powerful  tribe  of  that  city,  and  advised  him  to  defer 
his  coming  until  they  should  be  at  peace.  He  consented ;  but 
on  the  return  home  of  the  pilgrims,  he  sent  with  them  Musab 
Ibn  Omeir,  one  of  the  most  learned  and  able  of  his  disciples, 
with  instructions  to  strengthen  them  in  the  faith,  and  to 
preach  it  to  their  townsmen.  Thus  were  the  seeds  of  Islam- 
ism  first  sown  in  the  city  of  Medina.  For  a  time  they  thrived 
but  slowly.  Musab  was  opposed  by  the  idolaters,  and  his  life 
threatened;  but  he  persisted  in  his  exertions,  and  gradually 
made  converts  among  the  principal  inhabitants.  Among 
these  were  Saad  Ibn  Maads,  a  prince  or  chief  of  the  Awsites, 
and  Osaid  Ibn  Hodheir,  a  man  of  great  authority  in  the  city. 
Numbers  of  the  Moslems  of  Mecca  also,  driven  away  by 
persecution,  took  refuge  in  Medina,  and  aided  in  propagating 
the  new  faith  among  its  inhabitants,  until  it  found  its  way 
into  almost  every  household. 

Feeling  now  assured  of  being  able  to  give  Mahomet  an 
asylum  in  the  city,  upward  of  seventy  of  the  converts  of 
Medina,  led  by  Musab  Ibn  Omen,  repaired  to  Mecca  with  the 
pilgrims  in  the  holy  month  of  the  thirteenth  year  of  "the 
mission,"  to  invite  him  to  take  up  his  abode  in  their  city. 
Mahomet  gave  them  a  midnight  meeting  on  the  hill  Al  Akaba. 
His  uncle  Al  Abbas,  who,  like  the  deceased  Abu  Taleb,  took 
an  affectionate  interest  in  his  welfare,  though  no  convert  to 
his  doctrines,  accompanied  him  to  this  secret  conference, 
which  he  feared  might  lead  him  into  danger.  He  entreated 
the  pilgrims  from  Medina  not  to  entice  his  nephew  to  their 
city  until  more  able  to  protect  him :  warning  them  that  their 
open  adoption  of  the  new  faith  would  bring  all  Arabia  in  arms 
against  them.  His  warnings  and  entreaties  were  in  vain :  a 
solenm  compact  Avas  made  between  the  parties.  Mahomet 
demanded  that  they  should  abjure  idolatry,  and  worship  the 
one  true  God  openly  and  fearlessly.  For  himself  he  exacted 
obedience  in  weal  and  woe ;  and  for  the  disciples  who  might 
accompany  him,  protection;  even  such  as  they  would  render 
to  their  own  wives  and  children.  On  these  terms  he  offered 
to  bind  himself  to  remain  among  them,  to  be  the  friend  of 
their  friends,  the  enemy  of  their  enemies.  ' '  But,  should  we 
perish  in  your  cause,"  asked  they,  "what  will  be  our  reward?" 
"Paradise!"  replied  the  prophet. 

The  terms  were  accepted;  the  emissaries  from  Medina 
placed  then.'  hands  in  the  hands  of  Mahomet,  and  swore  to 
abide  by  the  compact.     The  latter  then  singled  out  twelve 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  83 

from  among  them,  whom  he  designated  as  his  apostles;  in 
imitation,  it  is  supposed,  of  the  example  of  our  Saviour,  Just 
then  a  voice  was  heard  from  the  summit  of  the  hill,  denounc- 
ing them  as  apostates,  and  menacing  them  with  punishment. 
The  sound  of  this  voice,  heard  in  the  darkness  of  the  night, 
inspired  temporary  dismay.  "It  is  the  voice  of  the  fiend 
Iblis,"  said  Mahomet  scornfully;  "he  is  the  foe  of  God:  fear 
him  not. "  It  was  probably  the  voice  of  some  spy  or  eaves 
•dropper  of  the  Koreishites ;  for  the  very  next  morning  they 
manifested  a  knowledge  of  what  had  taken  place  in  the  night ; 
and  treated  the  new  confederates  with  great  harshness  as  they 
were  departing  from  the  city. 

It  was  this  early  accession  to  the  faith,  and  this  timely  aid 
proffei'ed  and  subsequently  afforded  to  Mahomet  and  his  dis- 
ciples, which  procured  for  the  Moslems  of  Medina  the  appella- 
tion of  Ansarians,  or  auxiliaries,  by  which  they  were  afterward 
distinguished. 

After  the  departure  of  the  Ansarians,  and  the  expiration  of 
the  holy  month,  the  persecutions  of  the  Moslems  were  resumed 
with  increased  virulence,  insomuch  that  Mahomet,  seeing  a 
crisis  was  at  hand,  and  being  resolved  to  leave  the  city, 
advised  his  adherents  generally  to  provide  for  their  safety.  For 
himself,  he  still  lingered  in  Mecca  with  a  few  devoted  followers. 

Abu  Sofian,  his  implacable  foe,  was  at  this  time  governor  of 
the  city.  He  was  both  incensed  and  alarmed  at  the  spreading 
growth  of  the  new  faith,  and  held  a  meeting  of  the  chief  of  the 
Koreishites  to  devise  some  means  of  effectually  putting  a  stop 
to  it.  Some  advised  that  Mahomet  should  be  banished  the 
city;  but  it  was  objected  that  he  might  gain  ether  tribes  to  his 
interest,  or  perhaps  the  people  of  Medina,  and  return  at  then 
head  to  take  his  revenge.  Others  proposed  to  wall  him  up  in 
a  dungeon,  and  supply  him  with  food  until  he  died ;  but  it  was 
surmised  that  his  friends  might  effect  his  escape.  All  these 
objections  were  raised  by  a  violent  and  pragmatical  old  man, 
a  stranger  from  the  province  of  Nedja,  who,  say  the  Moslem 
writers,  was  no  other  than  the  devil  in  disguise,  breathing  his 
malignant  spirit  into  those  present.  At  length  it  was  declared 
by  Abu  Jahl,  that  the  only  effectual  check  on  the  growing  evil 
was  to  put  Mahomet  to  death.  To  this  all  agreed,  and  as  a 
means  of  sharing  the  odium  of  the  deed,  and  withstanding  the 
vengeance  it  might  awaken  among  the  relatives  of  the  victim, 
it  was  arranged  that  a  member  of  each  family  should  plunge 
his  sword  into  the  bodv  of  Mahomet. 


84  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

It  is  to  thi3  conspiracy  that  allusion  is  made  in  the  eighth 
chapter  of  the  Koran.  "And  call  to  mind  how  the  unbelievers 
plotted  against  thee,  that  they  might  either  detain  thee  in 
"bonds,  or  put  thee  to  death,  or  expel  thee  the  city ;  hut  God 
laid  a  plot  against  them;  and  God  is  the  best  layer  of  plots." 

In  fact,  by  the  time  the  murderers  arrived  before  the  dwell- 
ing of  Mahomet,  he  was  apprised  of  the  impending  danger. 
As  usual,  the  warning  is  attributed  to  the  angel  Gabriel,  but 
it  is  probable  it  was  given  by  some  Koreishite,  less  bloody- 
minded  than  Ms  confederates.  It  came  just  in  time  to  save 
Mahomet  from  the  hands  of  his  enemies.  They  paused  at 
his  door,  but  hesitated  to  enter.  Looking  through  a  crevice 
they  beheld,  as  they  thought,  Mahomet  wrapped  in  his  green 
mantle,  and  lying  asleep  on  his  couch.  They  waited  for  a 
while,  consulting  whether  to  fall  on  him  while  sleeping,  or 
wait  until  he  should  go  forth.  At  length  they  burst  open 
the  door  and  rushed  toward  the  couch.  The  sleeper  started 
up :  but,  instead  of  Mahomet,  Ali  stood  before  them.  Amazed 
and  confounded,  they  demanded,  "Whei*e  is  Mahomet?"  "I 
know  not,"  replied  Ali  sternly,  and  walked  forth;  nor  did  any 
one  venture  to  molest  him.  Enraged  at  the  escape  of  their 
victim,  however,  the  Koreishites  proclaimed  a  reward  of  a 
hundred  camels  to  any  one  who  should  bring  them  Mahomet 
alive  or  dead. 

Divers  accounts  are  given  of  the  mode  in  which  Mahomet 
made  his  escape  from  the  house  after  the  faithful  Ali  had 
wrapped  himself  in  his  mantle  and  taken  his  place  upon  the 
couch.  The  most  miraculous  account  is,  that  he  opened  the 
door  silently,  as  the  Koreishites  stood  before  it,  and,  scatter- 
ing a  handful  of  dust  in  the  air,  cast  such  blindness  upon  them 
that  he  walked  through  the  midst  of  them  without  being  per- 
ceived. This,  it  is  added,  is  confirmed  by  the  verse  of  the  30th 
chapter  of  the  Koran :  ' '  We  have  thrown  blindness  upon  them, 
that  they  shall  not  see." 

The  most  probable  account  is,  that  he  clambered  over  the 
wall  in  the  rear  of  the  house,  by  the  help  of  a  servant,  who 
bent  his  back  for  hirn  to  step  upon  it. 

He  repaired  immediately  to  the  house  of  Abu  Beker,  and 
they  arranged  for  instant  flight.  It  was  agreed  that  they 
should  take  refuge  in  a  cave  in  Mount  Tbor,  about  an  hour's 
distance  from  Mecca,  and  wait  there  until  they  could  proceed 
safely  to  Medina :  and  in  the  mean  time  the  children  of  Abu 
Beker  should  secretly  bring  them  food.     They  left  Mecca  while 


MAHOMET  AND  JUS  SUCCESSORS.  85 

it  was  yot  dark,  making  their  way  on  foot  by  the  light  of  the 
stars,  and  the  day  dawned  as  they  found  themselves  at  the 
foot  of  Mount  Thor.  Scarce  were  they  within  the  cave  when 
they  heard  the  sound  of  pursuit.  Abu  Beker,  though  a  brave 
man,  quaked  with  fear.  "  Our  pursuers,"  said  he,  "are  many, 
and  we  are  but  two."  "Nay,"  replied  Mahomet,  "there  is  a 
third ;  God  is  with  us !"  And  here  the  Moslem  writers  relate  a 
miracle,  dear  to  the  minds  of  all  true  believers.  By  the  time, 
say  they,  that  the  Koreishites  reached  the  mouth  of  the 
cavern,  an  acacia-tree  had  sprung  up  before  it,  in  the  spread- 
ing branches  of  which  a  pigeon  had  made  its  nest,  and  laid  its 
eggs,  and  over  the  whole  a  spider  had  woven  its  web.  When 
the  Koreishites  beheld  these  signs  of  undisturbed  quiet,  they 
concluded  that  no  one  coidd  recently  have  entered  the  cavern ; 
so  they  turned  away,  and  pursued  their  search  in  another 
direction. 

Whether  protected  by  miracle  or  not,  the  fugitives  remained 
for  three  days  undiscovered  in  the  cave,  and  Asama,  the 
daughter  of  Abu  Beker,  brought  them  food  in  the  dusk  of  the 
evenings. 

On  the  fourth  day,  when  they  presumed  the  ardor  of  pursuit 
had  abated,  the  fugitives  ventured  forth,  and  set  out  for 
Medina,  on  camels  which  a  servant  of  Aub  Beker  had  brought 
in  the  night  for  them.  Avoiding  the  main  road  usually  taken 
by  the  caravans,  they  bent  their  course  nearer  to  the  coast  of 
the  Bed  Sea.  They  had  not  proceeded  far,  however,  before 
they  were  overtaken  by  a  troop  of  horse  headed  by  Soraka  Ibn 
Malec.  Abu  Beker  was  again  dismayed  by  the  number  of 
their  pursuers ;  but  Mahomet  repeated  the  assurance,  ' '  Be  not 
troubled;  Allah  is  with  us."  Soraka  was  a  grim  warrior,  with 
shagged  iron  gray  locks  and  naked  sinewy  arms  rough  with 
hair.  As  he  overtook  Mahomet,  his  horse  reared  and  fell  with 
him.  His  superstitious  mind  was  struck  with  it  as  an  evil 
sign.  Mahomet  perceived  the  state  of  his  feelings,  and  by  an 
eloquent  appeal  wrought  upon  him  to  such  a  degree  that 
Soraka,  filled  with  awe,  entreated  his  forgiveness,  and  turning 
back  with  his  troop  suffered  him  to  proceed  on  his  way  un- 
molested. 

The  fugitives  continued  their  journey  without  further  inter- 
ruption, until  they  arrived  at  Koba,  a  hill  about  two  miles 
from  Medina.  It  was  a  favorite  resort  of  the  inhabitants  of 
the  city,  and  a  place  to  which  they  sent  their  sick  and  infirm, 
for  the  air  was  pure  and  salubrious.     Hence,  too,  the  city  was 


80  MAHOMET  AND  BIS  SUVChSbORS. 

supplied  with  rru.it ;  the  hill  and  its  environs  being  covered 
witn  vineyards,  and  with  groves  of  the  date  and  lotus ;  with 
gardens  producing  citrons,  oranges,  pomegranates,  figs,  peaches, 
and  apricots;  and  being  irrigated  with  limpid  streams. 

On  arriving  at  this  fruitful  spot,  Al  Kaswa,  the  camel  of 
Mahomet,  crouched  on  her  knees,  and  would  go  no  further. 
The  prophet  interpreted  it  as  a  favorable  sign,  and  determined 
to  remain  at  Koba,  and  prepare  for  entering  the  city.  The 
place  where  his  camel  knelt  is  still  pointed  out  by  pious  Mos- 
lems, a  mosque  named  Al  Takwa  having  been  built  there  to 
commemorate  the  circumstance.  Some  affirm  that  it  was 
actually  founded  by  the  prophet.  A  deep  well  is  also  shown  in 
the  vicinity,  beside  which  Mahomet  reposed  under  the  shade 
of  the  trees,  and  into  which  he  dropped  his  seal  ring.  It  is 
believed  stdl  to  remain  there,  and  has  given  sanctity  to  the 
well,  the  waters  of  which  are  conducted  by  subterraneous  con- 
duits to  Medina.  At  Koba  he  remained  four  days,  residing  in 
the  house  of  an  Awsite  named  Coithum  Ibn  Hadem.  While 
at  this  village  he  was  joined  by  a  distinguished  chief,  Boreida 
Ibn  Hoseib,  with  seventy  followers,  all  of  the  tribe  of  Sahara. 
These  made  profession  of  faith  between  the  hands  of  Maho- 
met. 

Another  renowned  proselyte  who  repaired  to  the  prophet  at 
this  village,  was  Salman  al  Parsi  (or  the  Persian).  He  is  said 
to  have  been  a  native  of  a  small  place  near  Ispahan,  and  that, 
on  passing  one  day  by  a  Christian  church,  he  was  so  much 
struck  by  the  devotion  of  the  people,  and  the  solemnity  of  the 
worship,  that  he  became  disgusted  with  the  idolatrous  faith  in 
which  be  had  been  brought  up.  He  afterward  wandered  about 
the  east,  from  city  to  city,  and  convent  to  convent,  in  quest  of 
a  religion,  until  an  ancient  monk,  full  of  years  and  infirmities, 
told  him  of  a  prophet  who  had  arisen  in  Arabia  to  restore  the 
pure  faith  of  Abraham. 

This  Salman  rose  to  power  in  after  years,  and  was  reputed 
by  the  unbelievers  of  Mecca  to  have  assisted  Mahomet  in  com- 
piling his  doctrine.  This  is  alluded  to  in  the  sixteenth  chapter 
of  the  Koran:  "Verily,  the  idolaters  say,  that  a  certain  man 
assisted  to  compose  the  Koran ;  but  the  language  of  this  man  is 
Ajami  for  Persian),  and  the  Koran  is  indited  in  the  pure  Ara- 
bian tongue. "  * 


*  The  renowned  and  learned  Humphrey  Piideaux.  Doctor  of  Divinity  and  Dean 
of  Norwich,  in  his  Life  of  Mahomet,  confounds  this  Salman  the  Persian  with  Ab- 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  87 

The  Moslems  of  Mecca,  who  had  taken  refuge  some  time  be- 
fore in  Medina,  hearing  that  Mahomet  was  at  hand,  came  forth 
to  meet  him  at  Koba;  among  these  was  the  early  convert 
Talha,  and  Zobeir,  the  nephew  of  Cadijah.  These,  seeing  the 
travel-stained  garments  of  Mahomet  and  Abu  Eeker,  gave 
them  white  mantles,  with  which  to  make  their  entrance  into 
Medina.  Numbers  of  the  Ansarians,  or  auxiliaries,  of  Medina, 
who  had  made  their  compact  with  Mahomet  in  the  preceding 
year,  now  hastened  to  renew  their  vow  of  fidelity. 

Learning  from  them  that  the  number  of  proselytes  in  the 
city  was  rapidly  augmenting,  and  that  there  was  a  general  dis- 
position to  receive  him  favorably,  he  appointed  Friday,  the 
Moslem  sabbath,  the  sixteenth  day  of  the  month  Rabi,  for  his 
public  entrance. 

Accordingly  on  the  morning  of  that  day  he  assembled  all 
his  followers  to  prayer ;  and  after  a  sermon,  in  which  he  ex- 
pounded the  main  principles  of  his  faith,  he  mounted  his 
camel  Al  Kaswa,  and  set  forth  for  that  city,  which  was  to  be- 
come renowned  in  after  ages  as  his  city  of  refuge. 

Boreida  Ibn  al  Hoseib,  with  his  seventy  horsemen  of  the 
tribe  of  Saham,  accompanied  him  as  a  guard.  Some  of  the  dis- 
ciples took  turns  to  hold  a  canopy  of  palm-leaves  over  his  head, 
and  by  his  side  rode  Abu  Beker.  "  Oh  apostle  of  God!"  cried 
Boreida,  "thoushalt  not  enter  Medina  without  a  standard;" 
so  saying,  he  unfolded  his  turban,  and  tying  one  end  of  it  to 
the  point  of  his  lance,  bore  it  aloft  before  the  prophet. 

The  city  of  Medina  was  fair  to  approach,  being  extolled  for 
beauty  of  situation,  salubrity  of  climate,  and  fertility  of  soil ; 
for  the  luxuriance  of  its  palm-trees,  and  the  fragrance  of  its 
shrubs  and  flowers.  At  a  short  distance  from  the  city  a  crowd 
of  new  proselytes  to  the  faith  came  forth  in  sun  and  dust  to 
meet  the  cavalcade.  Most  of  them  had  never  seen  Mahomet, 
and  paid  reverence  to  Abu  Beker  through  mistake ;  but  tbe 
latter  put  aside  the  screen  of  palm-leaves,  and  pointed  out 
the  real  object  of  homage,  who  was  greeted  with  loud  accla- 
mations. 

In  this  way  did  Mahomet,  so  recently  a  fugitive  from  his 
native  city,  with  a  price  upon  his  head,  enter  Medina,  more  as 
a  conqueror  in  triumph,  than  an  exile  seeking  an  asylum.     He 


dallah  Ibn  Salan,  a  learned  Jew:  by  some  called  Abdias  Ben  Salan  in  the  Hebrew 
dialect,  and  by  others  Abdallah  Sa.len :  who  is  accused  by  Christian  writers  of 
assisting  Mahomet  in  fabricating  his  revelations. 


88  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

alighted  at  the  house  of  a  Khazradite,  named  Abu  Ayub,  a 
devout  Moslem,  to  whom  moreover  he  was  distantly  related ; 
here  he  was  hospitably  received,  and  took  up  his  abode  in  the 
basement  story. 

Shortly  after  his  arrival  he  was  joined  by  the  faithful  Ah, 
who  had  fled  from  Mecca,  and  journeyed  on  foot,  hiding  him- 
self in  the  day  and  travelling  only  at  night,  lest  he  should  fall 
into  the  hands  of  the  Koreishites.  He  arrived  weary  and  way- 
worn, his  feet  bleeding  with  the  roughness  of  the  journey. 

Within  a  few  days  more  came  Ayesha,  and  the  rest  of  Abu 
Beker's  household,  together  with  the  family  of  Mahomet,  con- 
ducted  by  his  faithful  freedman  Zeid,  and  by  Abu  Beker's  ser- 
vant Abdallah. 

Such  is  the  story  of  the  memorable  Hegira,  or  "  Flight  of  the 
prophet"— the  era  of  the  Arabian  kalendar,  from  which  time 
is  calculated  by  all  true  Moslems:  it  corresponds  to  the  622d 
year  of  the  Christian  era. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

MOSLEMS  IN  MEDINA,  MOHADJERINS  AND  ANSARIANS— THE  TARTY 
OP  ABDALLAH  IBN  OBBA  AND  THE  HYPOCRITES— MAHOMET 
BUILDS  A  MOSQUE,  PREACHES,  MAKES  CONVERTS  AMONG  THE 
CHRISTIANS— THE  JEWS  SLOW  TO  BELIEVE — BROTHERHOOD 
ESTABLISHED  BETWEEN  FUGITIVES   AND   ALLIES. 

Mahomet  soon  found  himself  at  the  head  of  a  numerous  and 
powerful  sect  in  Medina ;  partly  made  up  of  those  of  his  disciples 
who  had  fled  from  Mecca,  and  were  thence  called  Mohadjerins 
or  Fugitives,  and  partly  of  inhabitants  of  the  place,  who  on 
joining  the  faith  were  called  Ansarians  or  Auxiliaries.  Most  of 
these  latter  were  of  the  powerful  tribes  of  the  Awsites  and 
Khazradites,  which,  though  descended  from  two  brothers,  Al 
Aws  and  Al  Khazraj,  had  for  a  hundred  and  twenty  years  dis- 
tracted Medina  by  their  inveterate  and  mortal  feuds,  but  had 
now  become  united  in  the  bonds  of  faith.  With  such  of  these 
tribes  as  did  not  immediately  adopt  his  doctrines  he  made  a 
covenant. 

The  Khazradites  were  very  much  under  the  sway  of  a 
prince  or  chief,  named  Abdallah  Ibn  Obba;  who,  it  is  said, 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  89 

was  on  the  point  of  being  made  king,  when  the  arrival  of  Ma- 
homet and  the  excitement  caused  by  his  doctrines  gave  the 
popular  feeling  a  new  direction.  Abdallah  was  stately  in  per- 
son, of  a  graceful  demeanor,  and  ready  and  eloquent  tongue ; 
he  professed  great  friendship  for  Mahomet,  and  with  several 
companions  of  his  own  type  and  character,  used  to  attend  the 
meetings  of  the  Moslems.  Mahomet  was  captivated  at  first  by 
their  personal  appearance,  their  plausible  conversation,  and 
their  apparent  deference ;  but  he  found  in  the  end  that  Abdal- 
lah was  jealous  of  his  popularity  and  cherished  secret  animos- 
ity against  him,  and  that  his  companions  were  equally  false  in 
their  pretended  friendship ;  hence,  he  stamped  them  with  the 
name  of  "The  Hypocrites."  Abdallah  Ibn  Obba  long  con- 
tinued his  political  rival  in  Medina. 

Being  now  enabled  publicly  to  exercise  his  faith  and  preach 
his  doctrines,  Mahomet  proceeded  to  erect  a  mosque.  The 
place  chosen  was  a  grave-yard  or  burying-ground,  shaded  by 
date-trees.  He  is  said  to  have  been  guided  in  his  choice  by 
what  he  considered  a  favorable  omen ;  his  camel  having  knelt 
opposite  to  this  place  on  his  public  entry  into  the  city.  The 
dead  were  removed,  and  the  trees  cut  down  to  make  way  for 
the  intended  edifice.  It  was  simple  in  form  and  structure, 
suited  to  the  unostentatious  religion  which  he  professed,  and 
to  the  scanty  and  precarious  means  of  its  votaries.  The  walls 
were  of  earth  and  brick ;  the  trunks  of  the  palm-trees  recently 
felled,  served  as  pillars  to  support  the  roof,  which  was  framed 
of  their  branches  and  thatched  with  their  leaves.  It  was  about 
a  hundred  ells  square,  and  had  three  doors ;  one  to  the  south, 
where  the  Kebla  was  afterward  established,  another  called  the 
gate  of  Gabriel,  and  the  third  the  gate  of  Mercy.  A  part  of 
the  edifice,  called  Soffat,  was  assigned  as  a  habitation  to  such 
of  the  believers  as  were  without  a  home. 

Mahomet  assisted  with  his  own  hands  in  the  construction  of 
this  mosque.  With  all  his  foreknowledge,  he  little  thought 
that  he  was  building  his  own  tomb  and  monument ;  for  in  that 
edifice  his  remains  are  deposited.  It  has  in  after  times  been 
repeatedly  enlarged  and  beautified,  but  still  bears  the  name 
Mesjed  al  Nebi  (the  Mosque  of  the  Prophet),  from  having  been 
founded  by  his  hands.  He  was  for  some  time  at  a  loss  in  what 
manner  his  followers  should  be  summoned  to  their  devotions ; 
whether  with  the  sound  of  trumpets  as  among  the  Jews,  or  by 
lighting  fires  on  high  places,  or  by  the  striking  of  timbrels. 
While  in  this  perplexity  a  form  of  words  to  be  cried  aloud  was 


90  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

suggested  by  Abdallah,  the  son  of  Zeid.  who  declared  that  it 
was  revealed  to  him  in  a  vision.  It  was  instantly  adopted  by 
Mahomet,  and  such  is  given  as  the  origin  of  the  following  sum- 
mons, which  is  to  this  day  heard  from  the  lofty  mhiarcts 
throughout  the  East,  calling  the  Moslems  to  the  place  of  wor- 
ship :  "  God  is  great !  God  is  great !  There  is  no  God  but  God. 
Mahomet  is  the  apostle  of  God.  Come  to  prayers!  come  to 
prayers!  God  is  great!  God  is  great!  There  is  no  God  but 
God."  To  which  at  dawn  of  day  is  added  the  exhortation, 
"  Prayer  is  better  than  sleep !    Prayer  is  better  than  sleep !" 

Everything  in  this  humble  mosque  was  at  first  conducted 
with  great  simplicity.  At  night  it  was  lighted  up  by  splinters 
of  the  date-tree ;  and  it  was  some  time  before  lamps  and  oil 
were  introduced.  The  prophet  stood  on  the  ground  and 
preached,  leaning  with  his  back  against  the  trunk  of  one  of 
the  date-trees,  which  served  as  pillars.  He  afterward  had  a 
pidpit  or  tribune  erected,  to  which  he  ascended  by  three  steps, 
so  as  to  be  elevated  above  the  congregation.  Tradition  asserts, 
that  when  he  first  ascended  this  pulpit,  the  deserted  date-tree 
uttered  a  groan ;  whereupon,  as  a  consolation,  he  gave  it  the 
choice  either  to  be  transplanted  to  a  garden  again  to  flourish, 
or  to  be  transferred  to  paradise,  there  to  yield  fruit,  in  after 
life,  to  true  believers.  The  date-tree  wisely  chose  the  latter, 
and  was  subsequently  buried  beneath  the  pulpit,"  there  to  await 
its  blissful  resurrection. 

Mahomet  preached  and  prayed  in  the  pulpit,  sometimes 
sitting,  sometimes  standing  and  leaning  on  a  staff.  His  pre- 
cepts as  yet  were  all  peaceful  and  benignant,  inculcating  devo- 
tion to  God  and  humanity  to  man.  He  seems  to  have  emu- 
lated for  a  time  the  benignity  of  the  Christian  faith.  "He 
who  is  not  affectionate  to  God's  creatures,  and  to  his  own 
children,"  would  he  say,  "  God  will  not  be  affectionate  to  him. 
Every  Moslem  who  clothes  the  naked  of  his  faith,  will  be 
clothed  by  Allah  in  the  green  robes  of  paradise." 

In  one  of  his  traditional  sermons,  transmitted  by  his  dis- 
ciples, is  the  following  apologue  on  the  subject  of  charity: 
"When  God  created  the  earth  it  shook  and  trembled,  imtil  he 
put  mountains  upon  it,  to  make  it  firm.  Then  the  angels 
asked,  'Oh,  God,  is  there  anything  of  thy  creation  stronger 
than  these  mountains?'  And  God  replied,  'Iron  is  stronger 
than  the  mountains;  for  it  breaks  them.'  '  And  is  there  any- 
thing of  thy  creation  stronger  than  iron?'  'Yes;  fire  is 
stronger  than  iron,  for  it  melts  it.'     '  Is  there  anything  of  thy 


WAEOMtST  A]\'J)   HIS  SUCCESSORS.  91 

creation  stronger  than  fire?'  'Yes;  water,  for  it  quenches 
fire.'  'Oh  Lord,  is  there  anything  of  thy  creation  stronger 
than  water?'  'Yes,  wind;  for  it  overcomes  water  and  piits  it 
in  motion.'  'Oh,  our  Sustainer!  is  there  anything  of  thy  crea- 
tion stronger  than  wind?'  'Yes,  a  good  man  giving  alms;  if 
he  give  with  his  right  hand  and  conceal  it  from  his  left,  he 
overcomes  all  things.'  " 

His  definition  of  charity  embraced  the  wide  circle  of  kind- 
ness. Every  good  act,  he  would  say,  is  charity.  Your  smiling 
in  your  brother's  face  is  charity;  an  exhortation  of  your  fel- 
low-man to  virtuous  deeds  is  equal  to  alms-giving ;  your  put- 
ting a  wanderer  in  the  right  road  is  charity ;  your  assisting  the 
blind  is  charity ;  your  removing  stones  and  thorns  and  other 
obsti-uctions  from  the  road  is  charity;  your  giving  water  to 
the  thirsty  is  charity. 

"  A  man's  true  wealth  hereafter  is  the  good  he  does  in  this 
world  to  his  fellow-man.  "When  he  dies,  people  will  say,  What 
property  has  he  left  behind  him?  But  the  angels,  who  examine 
him  in  the  grave,  will  ask,  '  What  good  deeds  hast  thou  sent 
before  thee?'" 

"  Oh  prophet!"  said  one  of  his  disciples,  "my  mother,  Omm- 
Sad,  is  dead ;  what  is  the  best  alms  I  can  send  for  the  good  of 
her  soul?"  ''Water!"  replied  Mahomet,  bethinking  himself  of 
the  panting  heats  of  the  desert.  ' '  Dig  a  well  for  her,  and  give 
water  to  the  thirsty."  The  man  digged  a  well  in  his  mother's 
name,  and  said,  "This  well  is  for  my  mother,  that  its  rewards 
may  reach  her  soul." 

Charity  of  the  tongue  also,  that  most  important  and  least 
cultivated  of  charities,  was  likewise  earnestly  inculcated  by 
Mahomet.  Abu  Jaraiya,  an  inhabitant  of  Basrah,  coming  to 
Medina,  and  being  persuaded  of  the  apostolical  office  of  Ma- 
homet, entreated  him  some  great  rule  of  conduct.  ' '  Speak 
evil  of  no  one,"  answered  the  prophet.  "From  that  time," 
says  Abu  Jaraiya,  ' '  I  never  did  abuse  any  one,  whether  free- 
man or  slave." 

The  rules  of  Islamism.  extended  to  the  courtesies  of  life. 
Make  a  salam  (or  salutation)  to  a  house  on  entering  and  leav- 
ing it.  Beturn  the  salute  of  friends  and  acquaintances,  and 
wayfarers  on  the  road.  He  who  rides  must  be  the  first  to 
make  the  salute  to  him  who  walks ;  he  who  walks  to  him  who 
is  sitting ;  a  small  party  to  a  large  party,  and  the  young  to  the 
old. 

On  the  arrival  of  Mahomet  at  Medina,  some  of  the  Christians 


92  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

of  the  city  promptly  enrolled  themselves  among  his  followers; 
they  were  probably  of  those  sectarians  who  held  to  the  human 
nature  of  Christ,  and  found  nothing  repugnant  in  Islamism; 
which  venerated  Christ  as  the  greatest  among  the  prophets. 
The  rest  of  the  Christians  resident  there  showed  but  little  hos- 
tility to  the  new  faith,  considering  it  far  better  than  the  old 
idolatry.  Indeed,  the  schisms  and  bitter  dissensions  among 
the  Christians  of  the  East  had  impaired  their  orthodoxy, 
weakened  then*  zeal,  and  disposed  them  easily  to  be  led  away 
by  new  doctrines. 

The  Jews,  of  which  there  were  rich  and  powerful  families  in 
Medina  and  its  vicinity,  showed  a  less  favorable  disposition. 
With  some  of  them  Mahomet  made  covenants  of  peace,  and 
trusted  to  gain  them  in  time  to  accept  him  as  their  promised 
Messiah  or  prophet.  Biassed,  perhaps  unconsciously,  by  such 
views,  he  had  modelled  many  of  his  doctrines  on  the  dogmas 
of  their  religion,  and  observed  certain  of  their  fasts  and  ordi- 
nances. He  allowed  such  as  embraced  Islamism  to  continue  in 
the  observance  of  their  Sabbath,  and  of  several  of  the  Mosaic 
laws  and  ceremonies.  It  was  the  custom  of  the  different  relig- 
ions of  the  East,  to  have  each  a  Eebla  or  sacred  point  toward 
which  they  turned  their  faces  in  the  act  of  adoration ;  the  Sa- 
beans  toward  the  north  star;  the  Persian  fire- worshippers 
toward  the  east,  the  place  of  the  rising  sun ;  the  Jews  toward 
their  holy  city  of  Jerusalem.  Hitherto  Mahomet  had  pre- 
scribed nothing  of  the  kind ;  but  now,  out  of  deference  to  the 
Jews,  he  made  Jerusalem  the  Kebla,  toward  which  all  Moslems 
were  to  turn  their  faces  when  in  prayer. 

While  new  converts  were  daily  made  among  the  inhabi- 
tants of  Medina,  sickness  and  discontent  began  to  prevail 
among  the  fugitives  from  Mecca.  They  were  not  accustomed 
to  the  climate ;  many  suffered  from  fevers,  and  in  their  sick- 
ness and  debility  languished  after  the  home  whence  they  were 
exiled. 

To  give  them  a  new  home,  and  link  them  closely  with  their 
new  friends  and  allies,  Mahomet  established  a  brotherhood  be- 
tween fifty-four  of  them  and  as  many  of  the  inhabitants  of 
Medina.  Two  persons  thus  linked  together  were  pledged  to 
stand  by  each  other  in  weal  and  woe ;  it  was  a  tie,  which  knit 
their  interests  more  closely  even  than  that  of  kindred,  for  they 
were  to  be  heirs  to  each  other  in  preference  to  blood  relations. 

This  institution  was  one  of  expediency,  and  lasted  only  until 
the  new  comers  had  taken  firm  root  in  Medina;  extended 


MAHOMET  AND  U1S  SUCCESSORS.  93 

merely  to  those  of  the  people  of  Mecca  who  had  fled  from  per- 
secution ;  and  is  alluded  to  in  the  following  verse  of  the  eighth 
chapter  of  the  Koran:  "  They  who  have  believed  and  have  fled 
their  country,  and  employed  their  substance  and  their  persons 
in  fighting  for  the  faith,  and  they  who  have  given  the  prophet 
a  refuge  among  them,  and  have  assisted  him,  these  shall  be 
deemed  the  one  nearest  of  kin  to  the  other." 

In  this  shrewd  but  simple  way  were  laid  the  foundations  of 
that  power  which  was  soon  to  attain  stupendous  strength,  and 
to  shake  the  mightiest  empires  of  the  world. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


MARRIAGE     OF     MAHOMET     WITH     AYESHA— OF    HIS    DAUGHTER 
FATIMA  WITH   ALI — THEIR  HOUSEHOLD  ARRANGEMENTS. 

The  family  relations  of  Mahomet  had  been  much  broken  up 
by  the  hostility  brought  upon  him  by  his  religious  zeal.  His 
daughter  Eokaia  was  still  an  exile  with  her  husband,  Othman 
Ibn  Affan,  in  Abyssinia ;  his  daughter  Zeinab  had  remained  in 
Mecca  with  her  husband,  A.bul  Aass,  who  was  a  stubborn 
opposer  of  the  new  faith.  The  family  with  Mahomet  in  Medina 
consisted  of  his  recently  wedded  wife  Sawda,  and  Fatima,  and 
Urn  Colthum,  daughters  of  his  late  wife  Cadijah.  He  had  a 
heart  prone  to  affection,  and  subject  to  female  influence,  but 
he  had  never  entertained  much  love  for  Sawda;  and  though  he 
always  treated  her  with  kindness,  he  felt  the  want  of  some  one 
to  supply  the  place  of  his  deceased  wife  Cadijah. 

"Oh  Omar,"  said  he  one  day,  "the  best  of  man's  treasures  is 
a  virtuous  woman,  who  acts  by  God's  orders,  and  is  obedient 
and  pleasing  to  her  husband:  he  regards  her  personal  and 
mental  beauties  with  delight ;  when  he  orders  her  to  do  any- 
thing she  obeys  him ;  and  when  he  is  absent  she  guards  his  right 
in  property  in  honor." 

He  now  turned  his  eyes  upon  his  betrothed  spouse  Ayesha, 
the  beautiful  daughter  of  Abu  Beker.  Two  years  had  elapsed 
since  they  were  betrothed,  and  she  had  now  attained  her  ninth 
year ;  an  infantine  age,  it  would  seem,  though  the  female  form 
is  wonderfully  precocious  in  the  quickening  climates  of  the 
East.  Their  nuptials  took  place  a  few  months  after  their 
arrival  in  Medina,  and  were  celebrated  with  great  simplicity : 


94  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

the  wedding  supper  was  of  milk,  and  the  dowry  of  the  bride 
was  twelve  okk  of  silver. 

The  betrothing  of  Fatima,  his  youngest  daughter,  with  his 
loyal  disciple  Ali,  followed  shortly  after,  and  their  marriage  at 
a  somewhat  later  period.  Fatima  was  between  fifteen  and  six- 
teen years  of  age,  of  great  beauty,  and  extolled  by  Arabian 
writers  as  one  of  the  four  perfect  women  with  whom  Allah  has 
deigned  to  bless  the  earth.  The  age  of  Ali  was  about  twenty- 
two. 

Heaven  and  earth,  say  the  Moslem  writers,  joined  in  paying 
honor  to  these  happy  espousals.  Medina  resounded  with  fes- 
tivity, and  blazed  with  illuminations,  and  the  atmosphere  was 
laden  with  aromatic  odors.  As  Mahomet,  on  the  nuptial  night, 
conducted  his  daughter  to  her  bridegroom,  heaven  sent  down  a 
celestial  pomp  to  attend  her :  on  her  right  hand  was  the  arch- 
angel Gabriel,  on  her  left  was  Michael,  and  she  was  followed 
by  a  train  of  seventy  thousand  angels,  who  all  night  kept 
watch  round  the  mansion  of  the  youthful  pair. 

Such  are  the  vaunting  exaggerations  with  which  Moslem 
writers  are  prone  to  overlay  every  event  in  the  history  of  the 
prophet,  and  destroy  the  real  grandeur  of  his  career,  which 
consists  in  its  simplicity.  A  more  reliable  account  states  that 
the  wedding  feast  was  of  dates  and  olives ;  that  the  nuptial 
couch  was  a  sheep-skin;  that  the  portion  of  the  bride  consisted 
of  two  skirts,  one  head-tire,  two  silver  armlets,  one  leathern 
pillow  stuffed  with  palm-leaves,  one  beaker  or  drinking  cup, 
one  hand-mill,  two  large  jars  for  water,  and  one  pitcher.  All 
this  was  in  unison  with  the  simplicity  of  Arab  housekeeping, 
and  with  the  circumstances  of  the  married  couple;  and  to 
raise  the  dowry  required  of  him,  Ali,  it  is  said,  had  to  sell 
several  camels  and  some  shirts  of  mail. 

The  style  of  living  of  the  prophet  himself  was  not  superior  to 
that  of  his  disciple.  Ayesha,  speaking  of  it  in  after  years,  ob- 
served: "For  a  whole  month  together  we  did  not  light  a  fire 
to  dress  victuals ;  our  food  was  nothing  but  dates  and  water, 
unless  any  one  sent  us  meat.  The  peo]:>le  of  the  prophet's 
household  never  got  wheat  bread  two  successive  days. " 

His  food,  in  general,  was  dates  and  barley-bread,  with  milk 
and  honey.  He  swept  his  chamber,  lit  his  fire,  mended  his 
clothes,  and  was,  in  fact,  his  owir  servant.  For  each  of  his 
two  wives  he  provided  a  separate  house  adjoining  the  mosque. 
He  resided  with  them  by  turns,  but  Avesha  ever  remained  his 
favorite. 


MA1I0MKT  AKD  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  95 

Mahomet  has  been  extolled  by  Moslem  writers  for  the  chas- 
tity of  his  early  life;  and  it  is  remarkable  that,  with  all  the 
plurality  of  wives  indidged  in  by  the  Arabs,  and  which  he  per- 
mitted himself  in  subsequent  years,  and  with  all  that  constitu- 
tional fondness  which  he  evinced  for  the  sex,  he  remained  sin- 
gle in  his  devotion  to  Cadijah  to  her  dying  day,  never  giving 
her  a  rival  in  his  house  nor  in  his  heart.  Even  the  fresh  aiM 
budding  charms  of  Ayesha,  which  soon  assumed  such  empire 
over  him,  could  not  obliterate  the  deep  and  mingled  feeling  of 
tenderness  and  gratitude  for  his  early  benefactress.  Ayesha 
was  piqued  one  day  at  hearing  him  indulge  in  these  fond  recol- 
lections: "  Oh  apostle  of  God,"  demanded  the  youthful  beauty, 
"was  not  Cadijah  stricken  in  years?  Has  not  Allah  given 
thee  a  better  wife  in  her  stead?" 

"Never  !"  exclaimed  Mahomet,  with  an  honest  burst  of  feel- 
ing— "never  did  God  give  me  a  better!  When  I  was  poor,  she 
enriched  me ;  when  I  was  pronounced  a  liar,  she  believed  in 
me ;  when  I  was  opposed  by  all  the  world,  she  remained  true 
to  me!" 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


THE    SWORD    ANNOUNCED    AS    THE    INSTRUMENT   OP  FAITH— FIRST 
FORAY  AGAINST  THE   KOREISniTES— SURPRISAL  OF  A  CARAVAN. 

We  come  now  to  an  important  era  in  the  career  of  Mahomet. 
Hitherto  he  had  relied  on  argument  and  persuasion  to  make 
proselytes,  enjoining  the  same  on  his  disciples.  His  exhorta- 
tions to  them  to  bear  with  patience  and  long-suffering  the  vio- 
lence of  their  enemies,  almost  emulated  the  meek  precept  of 
our  Saviour,  "if  they  smite  thee  on  the  one  cheek,  turn  to 
'them  the  other  also."  He  now  arrived  at  a  point  whei*e  he 
completely  diverged  from  the  celestial  spirit  of  the  Christian 
doctrines,  and  stamped  his  religion  with  the  alloy  of  fallible 
mortality.  His  human  nature  was  not  capable  of  maintaining 
the  sublime  forbearance  he  had  hitherto  inculcated.  Thirteen 
years  of  meek  endurance  had  been  rewarded  by  nothing  but 
aggravated  injury  and  insult.  His  greatest  persecutors  had 
been  those  of  his  own  tribe,  the  Koreishites.  especially  those 
of  the  rival  line  of  Abd  Schems,  whose  vindictive  chief,  Abu 
Bofian.  had  now  the  sway  of  Mecca.     By  their  virulent  hos- 


90  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

tility  his  fortunes  had  been  blasted ;  his  family  degraded,  im- 
poverished, and  dispersed,  and  he  himself  driven  into  exile. 
All  this  he  might  have  continued  to  bear  with  involuntary 
meekness,  had  not  the  means  of  retaliation  unexpectedly 
sprung  up  within  his  reach.  He  had  come  to  Medina  a  fugi- 
tive seeking  an  asylum,  and  craving  merely  a  quiet  homo. 
In  a  little  while,  and  probably  to  his  own  surprise,  he  found 
an  army  at  his  command :  for  among  the  many  converts  daily 
made  in  Medina,  the  fugitives  nocking  to  him  from  Mecca,  and 
proselytes  from  the  tribes  of  the  desert,  were  men  of  resolute 
spirit,  skilled  in  the  use  of  arms,  and  fond  of  partisan  warfare. 
Human  passions  and  mortal  resentments  were  awakened  by 
this  sudden  accession  of  power.  They  mingled  with  that  zeal 
for  religious  reform,  which  was  still  his  predominant  motive. 
In  the  exaltations  of  his  enthusiastic  spirit  he  endeavored  to 
persuade  himself,  and  perhaps  did  so  effectually,  that  the 
power  thus  placed  within  his  reach  was  intended  as  a  means 
of  eff  ectmg  his  great  purpose,  and  that  he  was  called  upon  by 
divine  command  to  use  it.  Such  at  least  is  the  purport  of  the 
memorable  manifesto  which  he  issued  at  this  epoch,  and  which 
changed  the  whole  tone  and  fortunes  of  his  faith. 

' '  Different  prophets, "  said  he,  ' '  have  been  sent  by  God  to 
illustrate  his  different  attributes:  Moses  his  clemency  and 
providence;  Solomon  his  wisdom,  majesty,  and  glory;  Jesus 
Christ  his  righteousness,  omniscience,  and  power— his  righte- 
ousness by  purity  of  conduct ;  his  omniscience  by  the  knowl- 
edge he  displayed  of  the  secrets  of  all  hearts ;  his  power  by  the 
miracles  he  wrought.  None  of  these  attributes,  however,  have 
been  sufficient  fo^enforce  conviction,  and  even  the  miracles  of 
Moses  and  Jesus  have  been  treated  with  unbelief.  I,  therefore, 
the  last  of  the  prophets,  am  sent  with  the  sword !  Let  those 
who  promulgate  my  faith  enter  into  no  argument  nor  discus- 
sion, but  slay  all  who  refuse  obedience  to  the  law.  Whoever 
fights  for  the  true  faith,  whether  he  fall  or  conquer,  will  as- 
suredly receive  a  glorious  reward  " 

"The  sword,"  added  he,  "is  the  Key  of  heaven  and  hell;  all 
who  draw  it  in  the  cause  of  the  faith  will  be  rewarded  with 
temporal  advantages;  every  drop  shed  of  their  blood,  every 
peril  and  hardship  endured  by  them,  will  be  registered  on  high 
as  more  meritorious  than  even  fasting  or  praying.  If  they  fall 
in  battle  their  sins  will  at  once  be  blotted  out,  and  they  will  be 
transported  to  paradise,  there  to  revel  in  eternal  pleasures  in 
the  arms  of  black-eyed  houris.'1 


MAHOMET  AND  JUS  SUCCESSORS.  07 

Predestination  was  brought  to  aid  these  belligerent  doctrines. 
Every  event,  according  to  the  Koran,  was  predestined  from 
eternity,  and  could  not  be  avoided.  No  man  could  die  sooner 
or  later  than  his  allotted  hour,  and  when  ifc  arrived  it  would  be 
the  same,  whether  the  angel  of  death  should  find  him  in  the 
quiet  of  his  bed,  or  amid  the  storm  of  battle. 

Such  were  the  doctrines  and  revelations  which  converted 
Islamism  of  a  sudden  from  a  religion  of  meekness  and  philan- 
thropy, to  one  of  violence  and  the  sword.  They  were  pecu- 
liarly acceptable  to  the  Ai^abs,  harmonizing  with  their  habits, 
and  encouraging  their  predatory  propensities.  Virtually  pi- 
rates of  the  desert,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that,  after  this 
open  promulgation  of  the  Religion  of  the  Sword,  they  should 
flock  in  crowds  to  the  standard  of  the  prophet.  Still  no  vio- 
lence was  authorized  by  Mahomet  against  those  who  shoidd 
persist  in  unbelief,  provided  they  shoidd  readily  submit  to  his 
temporal  sway,  and  agree  to  pay  tribute ;  and  here  we  see  the 
first  indication  oi  worldly  ambition  and  a  desire  for  temporal 
dominion  dawning  upon  his  mind.  Still  it  will  be  found  that 
the  tribute  thus  exacted  was  subsidiary  to  his  ruling  passion, 
and  mainly  expended  by  him  in  the  extension  of  the  faith. 

The  first  warlike  enterprises  of  Mahomet  betray  the  lurking 
resentment  we  have  noted.  They  were  directed  against  the 
caravans  of  Mecca,  belonging  to  his  implacable  enemies  the 
Koreishites.  The  three  first  were  headed  by  Mahomet  in  per- 
son, but  without  any  material  residt.  The  fourth  was  con- 
fided to  a  Moslem,  named  Abdallah  Ibn  Jasch ;  who  was  sent 
out  with  eight  or  ten  resolute  followers  on  the  road  toward 
South  Arabia.  As  it  was  now  the  holy  month  of  Radjab, 
sacred  from  violence  and  rapine,  Abdallah  had  sealed  orders, 
not  to  be  opened  until  the  third  day.  These  orders  were 
vaguely  yet  significantly  worded.  Abdallah  was  to  repair  to 
the  valley  of  Naklah,  between  Mecca  and  Tayef  (the  same  in 
which  Mahomet  had  the  revelation  of  the  Genii),  where  he 
was  to  watch  for  an  expected  caravan  of  the  Koreishites. 
"Perhaps,"  added  the  letter  of  instructions,  shrewdly — "per- 
haps thou  mayest  be  able  to  bring  us  some  tidings  of  it." 

Abdallah  understood  the  true  meaning  of  the  letter,  and 
acted  up  to  it.  Arriving  in  the  valley  of  Naklah,  he  descried 
the  caravan,  consisting  of  several  camels  laden  with  merchan- 
dise, and  conducted  by  four  men.  Following  it  at  a  distance, 
he  sent  one  of  his  men,  disguised  as  a  pilgrim,  to  overtake  it. 
From  the  words  of  the  latter,  the  Koreishites  supposed  his 


98  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

companions  to  be  like  himself,  pilgrims  bound  to  Mecca.  Be- 
sides, it  was  the  month  of  Radjah,  when  the  desert  might  be 
travelled  in  security.  Scarce  had  they  come  to  a  halt,  how- 
ever, when  Abdallah  and  his  comrades  fell  on  them,  killed  one, 
and  took  two  prisoners ;  the  fourth  escaped.  The  victors  then 
returned  to  Medina  with  their  prisoners  and  booty. 

All  Medina  was  scandalized  at  this  breach  of  the  holy 
month.  Mahomet,  finding  that  he  had  ventured  too  far,  pre- 
tended to  be  angry  with  Abdallah,  and  refused  to  take  the 
share  of  the  booty  offered  to  him.  Confiding  in  the  vagueness 
of  his  instructions,  he  insisted  that  he  had  not  commanded 
Abdallah  to  shed  blood,  or  commit  any  violence  during  the 
holy  month. 

The  clamor  stdl  continuing,  and  being  echoed  by  the  Kore- 
ishites  of  Mecca,  produced  the  following  passage  of  the  Koran : 

' '  They  will  ask  thee  concerning  the  sacred  month,  whether 
they  may  make  war  therein.  Answer:  To  war  therein  is 
grievous ;  but  to  deny  God.  to  bar  the  path  of  God  against  his 
people,  to  drive  true  believers  from  his  holy  temple,  and  to 
worship  idols,  are  sins  far  more  grievous  than  to  kill  in  the 
holy  months.'- 

-  Having  thus  proclaimed  divine  sanction  for  the  deed,  Maho- 
met no  longer  hesitated  to  take  his  share  of  the  booty.  He 
delivered  one  of  the  prisoners  on  ransom ;  the  other  embraced 
Islamism. 

The  above  passage  of  the  Koran,  however  satisfactory  it 
may  have  been  to  devout  Moslems,  will  scarcely  serve  to  ex- 
culpate their  prophet  in  the  eyes  of  the  profane.  The  expedi- 
tion of  Abdallah  Ibn  Jasch  was  a  sad  practical  illustration  of 
the  new  religion  of  the  sword.  It  contemplated  not  merely  an 
act  of  plunder  and  revenge,  a  venial  act  in  the  eyes  of  Arabs, 
and  justified  by  the  new  doctrines  by  being  exercised  against 
the  enemies  of  the  faith,  but  an  outrage  also  on  the  holy 
month,  that  period  sacred  from  time  immemorial  against  vio- 
lence and  bloodshed,  and  which  Mahomet  himself  professed  to 
hold  in  reverence.  The  craft  and  secrecy  also  with  which  the 
whole  was  devised  and  conducted,  the  sealed  letter  of  instruc- 
tions to  Abdallah,  to  be  opened  only  at  the  end  of  three  days, 
at  the  scene  of  projected  outrage,  and  couched  in  language 
vague,  equivocal,  yet  sufficiently  significant  to  the  agent— all 
were  in  direct  opposition  to  the  conduct  of  Mahomet  in  the 
earlier  part  of  his  career,  when  he  dared  openly  to  pursue  the 
path  of  duty,  ' '  though  the  sun  should  be  arrayed  against  him 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS,  gcj 

on  the  right  hand,  and  the  moon  on  the  left;"  all  showed  that 
he  was  conscious  of  the  turpitude  of  the  act  he  was  authoriz- 
ing. His  disavowal  of  the  violence  committed  by  Abdallah, 
yet  his  bringing  the  Koran  to  his  aid  to  enable  him  to  profit  by 
it  with  impunity,  give  still  darker  shades  to  this  transaction ; 
which  altogether  shows  how  immediately  and  widely  he  went 
wrong  the  moment  he  departed  from  the  benevolent  spirit  of 
Christianity,  which  he  at  first  endeavored  to  emulate.  World- 
ly passions  and  worldly  interests  were  fast  getting  the  ascend- 
ency over  that  religious  enthusiasm  which  first  inspired  him. 
As  has  well  been  observed,  "the  first  drop  of  blood  shed  in  his 
name  in  the  Holy  Week  displayed  him  a  man  in  whom  the 
slime  of  earth  had  quenched  the  holy  flame  of  prophecy." 


-CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE    BATTLE    OF    BEDER. 

In  the  second  year  of  the  Hegira.  Mahomet  received  intelli- 
gence that  his  arch  foe,  Abu  Sofian,  with  a  troop  of  thirty 
horsemen,  was  conducting  back  to  Mecca  a  caravan  of  a  thou- 
sand camels,  laden  with  the  merchandise  of  Syria.  Their 
route  lay  through  the  country  of  Medina,  between  the  range 
of  mountains  and  the  sea.  Mahomet  determined  to  intercept 
them.  About  the  middle  of  the  month  Ramadhan,  therefore, 
he  sallied  forth  with  three  hundred  and  fourteen  men.  of 
whom  eighty-three  were  Mohadjerins,  or  exiles  from  Mecca; 
sixty-one  Awsites,  and  a  hundred  and  seventy  Khazradites. 
Each  troop  had  its  own  banner.  There  were  but  two  horses  in 
this  little  army,*  but  there  were  seventy  fleet  camels,  which 
the  troop  mounted  by  turns,  so  as  to  make  a  rapid  march, 
without  much  fatigue. 

Othman  Ibn  Affan.  the  son-in-law  of  Mahomet,  was  now  re- 
turned with  his  wife  Rokaia  from  their  exile  in  Abyssinia,  and 

*  "The  Arabs  of  the  desert,"  says  Burckbardt,  "  are  not  rich  in  horses.  Among 
the  great-  tribes  "a  the  Red  Sea,  between  Akaba  and  Mecca,  and  to  the  south  and 
south-east  of  Mecca,  as  far  as  Yemen,  horses  are  very  scarce,  especialby  among 
those,  of  the  mountainous  districts.  The  settled  inhabitants  of  Hedjaz  and  Yemen 
are  not  much  in  the  habit  of  keeping  horses.  The  tribes  most  rich  in  horses  are 
those  who  dwell  in  the  comparatively  fertile  plains  of  Mesopotamia,  on  the  banks 
of  the  river  Euphrates,  and  on  the  Sj'rian  plains." — Burchhardt,  ii.  50. 


ICO  MAHOMET  AND  U1S  SUCCESSORS. 

would  have  joined  the  enterpi'ise,  hut  his  wife  was  ill  almost 
unto  death,  so  that  he  was  obliged  reluctantly  to  remain  in 
Medina. 

Mahomet  for  a  while  took  the  main  road  to  Mecca,  then 
leaving  it  to  the  left,  turned  toward  the  Red  Sea  and  entered  a 
fertile  valley,  watered  by  the  brook  Beder.  Here  he  laid  in 
wait  near  a  ford,  over  which  the  caravans  were  accustomed  to 
pass.  He  caused  his  men  to  dig  a  deep  trench,  and  to  divert 
the  water  therein,  so  that  they  might  resort  thither  to  slake 
their  thirst,  out  of  reach  of  the  enemy. 

In  the  mean  time  Abu  Sofian,  having  received  early  intel- 
ligence that  Mahomet  had  sallied  forth  to  waylay  him  with  a 
superior  force,  dispatched  a  messenger  named  Omair,  on  a  fleet 
dromedary,  to  summon  instant  relief  from  Mecca.  The  mes- 
senger arrived  at  the  Caaba  haggard  and  breathless.  Abu 
Jahl  mounted  the  roof  and  sounded  the  alarm.  All  Mecca  was 
in  confusion  and  consternation.  Henda,  the  wife  of  Abu  Sofian, 
a  woman  of  a  fierce  and  intrepid  nature,  called  upon  her  father 
Otha,  her  brother  Al  Walid,  her  uncle  Shaiba,  and  all  the  war- 
riors of  her  kindred,  to  arm  and  hasten  to  the  relief  of  her  hus- 
band. The  brothers,  too,  of  the  Koreishite  slain  by  Abdallah 
Ibn  Jasch,  in  the  valley  of  Naklah,  seized  their  weapons  to 
avenge  his  death.  Motives  of  interest  were  mingled  with 
eagerness  for  vengeance,  for  most  of  the  Koreishites  had  pro- 
perty embarked  in  the  caravan.  In  a  little  while  a  force  of 
one  hundred  horse  and  seven  hundred  camels  hurried  forward 
on  the  road  toward  Syria.  It  wTas  led  by  Abu  Jahl,  now  three- 
score and  ten  years  of  age,  a  veteran  warrior  of  the  desert,  who 
still  retained  the  fire  and  almost  the  vigor  and  activity  of 
youth,  combined  with  the  rancor  of  old  age. 

While  Abu  Jahl,  with  his  forces,  wras  hurrying  on  in  one 
direction,  Abu  Sofian  was  approaching  in  another.  On  arriv- 
ing at  the  region  of  danger,  he  preceded  his  caravan  a  con- 
siderable distance,  carefully  regarding  every  track  and  foot- 
print. At  length  he  came  upon  the  track  of  the  little  army  of 
Mahomet.  He  knew  it  from  the  size  of  the  kernels  of  the 
dates,  which  the  troops  had  throw^n  by  the  wayside  as  they 
marched — those  of  Medina  being  remarkable  for  their  small- 
ness.  On  such  minute  signs  do  the  Arabs  depend  in  tracking 
their  foes  through  the  deserts.  _ 

Observing  the  course  Mahomet  had  taken,  Abu  Sofian 
changed  his  route,  and  passed  along  the  coast  of  the  Eed  Sea 
until  he  considered  himself  out  of  danger.    He  then  sent  an- 


MAHOMET  AND  U1S  SUCCESSORS.  101 

other  messenger  to  meet  any  Koreishites  that  might  have  sal- 
lied forth,  and  to  let  them  know  that  the  caravan  was  safe, 
and  they  might  return  to  Mecca. 

The  messenger  met  the  Koreishites  when  in  full  march.  On 
hearing  that  the  caravan  was  safe,  they  came  to  a  halt  and 
held  council.  Some  were  for  pushing  forward  and  inflicting  a 
signal  punishment  on  Mahomet  and  Ins  followers ;  others  were 
for  turning  back.  In  this  dilemma  they  sent  a  scout  to  recon- 
noitre the  enemy.  He  brought  back  woid  that  they  were 
about  three  hundred  strong ;  this  increased  the  desire  of  those 
who  were  for  battle.  Others  remonstrated.  "  Consider,"  said 
they,  "these  are  men  who  have  nothing  to  lose;  they  have 
nothing  but  their  swords ;  not  one  of  them  will  fall  without 
slaying  his  man.  Besides,  we  have  relatives  among  them;  if 
we  conquer,  we  will  not  be  able  to  look  each  other  in  the  face, 
having  slain  each  other's  relatives."  These  words  were  pro- 
ducing their  effect,  but  the  brothers  of  the  Koreishite  who  had 
been  slain  in  the  valley  of  Naklah  were  instigated  by  Abu  Jahl 
to  cry  for  revenge.  That  fiery  old  Arab  seconded  their  appeal. 
"  Forward !"  cried  he ;  "  let  us  get  water  from  the  brook  Beder 
for  the  feast  with  which  we  shall  make  merry  over  the  escape 
of  our  caravan."  The  main  body  of  the  troops,  therefore, 
elevated  their  standards  and  resumed  their  march,  though  a 
considerable  number  turned  back  to  Mecca. 

The  scouts  of  Mahomet  brought  him  notice  of  the  approach 
of  this  force.  The  hearts  of  some  of  bis  followers  failed  them; 
they  had  come  forth  in  the  expectation  of  little  fighting  and 
much  plunder,  and  were  dismayed  at  the  thoughts  of  such  an 
overwhelming  host ;  but  Mahomet  bade  them  be  of  good  cheer, 
for  Allah  had  promised  him  an  easy  victory. 

The  Moslems  posted  themselves  on  a  rising  ground,  with 
water  at  the  foot  of  it.  A  hut,  or  shelter  of  the  branches  of 
trees,  had  been  hastily  erected  on  the  summit  for  Mahomet, 
and  a  dromedary  stood  before  it,  on  which  he  might  fly  to 
Medina  in  case  of  defeat. 

The  vanguard  of  the  enemy  entered  the  valley  panting  with 
thirst,  and  hastened  to  the  stream  for  drink ;  but  Hamza,  the 
uncle  of  Mahomet,  set  upon  them  with  a  number  of  his  men, 
and  slew  the  leader  with  his  own  hand.  Only  one  of  the  van- 
guard escaped,  who  was  afterward  converted  to  the  faith. 

The  main  body  of  the  enemy  now  approached  with  sound 
of  trumpet.  Three  Koreishite  warriors  advancing  in  front, 
defied  the  bravest  of  the  Moslems  to  equal  combat.     Two  of 


MAHOMET  ASD  HIS  SUCCESS 

ge  ehafl  re  Otha.  the  father-in-law  of  Abu  Sofian, 

and  Al  Waiid.  his  brother-in-law.     The  third  challenger 

:ba.  the  brother  of  Otha.     These  it  will  be  recollected  had 
been  instigated  to  sally  forth  from  _  .  by  Henda.  the  ' 

of  Abu  Sofian.     They  were  all  men  of  rank  in  their  tribe. 
H  :       warriors  of  Medina  stepped  forward  and  accept 
ir  challenge:   but  Let  the  renegades  of 

our  own  city  of  advance,  if  they  dare."'    Upon 

Hamza  and  AIL  the  uncle  and  cousin  of  Mahomet,  and  Obeidah 
Ibn  al  Eareth.  undertook  the  fight,     After  a  fierce  and  o) 
nate      otest   Hamza  and  Ali  each  -  .    nist     They 

the  aid  of  Obeidah.  who  w  -  wood 

and:.  me  by  Otha.  "the  K  and 

bore  away  their  associate,  but  he  presently  died  of  hi-  wounds. 
The  1  w  became  general.  aware  of  the 

inf-  r  number  at  first  me:        -    od  on  the 

niainteining  their  position  on  the  rie    *  g     und.  and  gall- 
■  with  flights  of  arro  they  sc  ight  to 

-  -tream  belo".     Mahomet 

remained  in  his  hut  on  the  hill.  accomj»anied  by  Abu  Beker. 
and  ea:  gaged  in  prayer.    In  the  of  the  battle 

he  had  a  paroxysm,  or  fell  into  a  kind  of  trance.     Cemir.. 
himself,  he  red  that  God  in  a  vision  had  promised  him. 

hing  out  of  tl.  he  caught  up  a  handful 

of  dust  and  cast  it  into  the  air  toward  xclaim- 

-  '  .iit  upon  their  fa    --.       Then  orde: 

t  j  charge  down  upon  the  enemy :  ' '  Fight,  and 
I  be;  "  the  gates  of  paradise  are  under  the  shade 
V   find  instant  admission  who  falls 
fighting  for  the  f 

In  the  shock  of  h  Abu  JahL  who  * 

his  horse  into  the  thickest  of  the  eonfti  t  ]  i  a 

blow  of  a  -  ~ar  in  the  thigh  which  brought  him  to  the 

.ulahT  nd  put  hi-  :   o*  upon  his  breast, 

—  imprecations  and 

red  his  head  from  his  body. 

nty  remai. 
a  the  field,  and  nearly  the  same  number  were  taken 
prt  Four*  whose  names  remain 

on  record  as  mar*  :he  faith. 

-ily  to  be  a         nted  foi  on  natural 
-.     -~  being  fresh  and  unwearied,  and  hav- 
ing the  advantage  of  a  risi  :  _      md.  and  a  supply  of  water; 


MAHOMET  AND   HIS  SUCCESSORS.  1Q3 

while  the  Koreishites  were  fatigued  by  a  hasty  march,  parched 
with  thirst,  and  diminished  in  force,  by  the  loss  of  numbers 
who  had  turned  back  to  Mecca.  Moslem  writers,  however, 
attribute  this  early  triumph  of  the  faith  to  supernatural 
agency.  When  Mahomet  scattered  dust  in  the  air.  say  they, 
three  thousand  angelic  warriors  in  white  and  yellow  turbans, 
and  long  dazzling  robes,  and  mounted  on  black  and  white 
steeds,  came  rushing  like  a  blast,  and  swept  the  Koreishites 
before  them.  Nor  is  this  affirmed  on  Moslem  testimony  alone, 
but  given  on  the  word  of  an  idolater,  a  peasant  who  was  at- 
tending sheep  on  an  adjacent  hill.  "  I  was  with  a  companion, 
a  cousin,"  said  the  peasant,  "upon  the  fold  of  the  mountain, 
watching  the  conflict,  and  waiting  to  join  with  the  conquerors 
and  share  the  spoil.  Suddenly  we  beheld  a  great  cloud  sailing 
toward  us,  and  within  it  were  the  neighing  of  steeds  and  bray- 
ing of  trumpets.  As  it  approached,  squadrons  of  angels  sallied 
forth,  and  we  heard  the  terrific  voice  of  the  archangel  as  he 
urged  his  mare  Haizum.  '  Speed !  speed !  oh  Haizum !  *  At 
which  awful  sound  the  heart  of  my  companion  burst  with 
terror,  and  he  died  on  the  spot;  and  I  had  well  nigh  shared  his 
fate."* 

When  the  conflict  was  over.  Abdallah  Ibn  Masoud  brought 
the  head  of  Abu  Jahl  to  Mahomet,  who  eyed  the  grisly  trophy 
with  exultation,  exclaiming,  '"This  man  was  the  Pharaoh  of 
our  nation.'"  The  true  name  of  this  veteran  warrior  was  Amru 
Ibn  Hasham.  The  Koreishites  had  given  him  the  name  of 
Abu  Thoem.  or  Father  of  Wisdom,  on  account  of  his  sagacity. 
The  Moslems  had  changed  it  to  Abu  Jahl.  Father  of  Folly. 
The  latter  appellation  has  adhered  to  him  in  history,  and  he  is, 
never  mentioned  by  true  believers  without  the  ejaculation, 
'•  May  he  be  accursed  of  God'." 

The  Moslems  who  had  fallen  in  battle  were  honorably  in- 
terred; as  to  the  bodies  of  the  Koreishites.  they  were  contemp- 


*  This  miraculous  aid  is  repeatedly  mentioned  in  the  Korpn.  e.g.: 
"  God  had  already  given  you  the  victory  at  Beder.  when  ye  were  inferior  in  num- 
ber. When  thou  saidst  unto  the  faithful.  Is  it  not  enough  for  you  that  your  Lord 
should  assist  you  with  three  thousand  ansrels.  sent  down  from  heaven?  Verily,  if 
ye  persevere,  and  fear  God,  and  your  enemies  come  upon  you  suddenly,  your 
Lord  will  assist  you  with  five  thousand  angels,  distinguished  by  their  hoi-ses  and 
attire. 

"O  true  believers,  ye  slew  it  <'..  se  who  were  slain  at  Beder  yourselves,  but  God 
slew  them.  Neither  didst  thou.  O  Mahomet,  east  the  gravel  into  their  eyes,  when 
thou  didst  seem  to  east  it;  but  God  east  it."— -Sale's  Koran,  chap.  lii. 


104  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

tuously  thrown*  into  a  pit  which  had  been  digged  for  them. 
The  question  was  how  to  dispose  of  the  prisoners.  Omar  was 
for  striking  off  their  heads ;  but  Abu  Beker  advised  that  they 
should  be  given  up  on  ransom.  Mahomet  observed  that  Omar 
was  like  Noah,  who  prayed  for  the  destruction  of  the  guilty 
by  the  deluge ;  but  Abu  Beker  was  like  Abraham,  who  inter- 
ceded for  the  guilty.  He  decided  on  the  side  of  mercy.  But 
two  of  the  prisoners  were  put  to  death ;  one,  named  Nadhar, 
for  having  ridiculed  the  Koran  as  a  collection  of  Persian  tales 
and  fables ;  the  other,  named  Okba,  for  the  attempt  upon  the 
life  of  Mahomet  when  he  first  preached  in  the  Caaba,  and 
when  he  was  rescued  by  Abu  Beker.  Several  of  the  prisoners 
who  were  poor  were  liberated  on  merely  making  oath  never 
again  to  take  up  arms  against  Mahomet  or  his  followers.  The 
rest  were  detained  until  ransoms  should  be  sent  by  their 
friends. 

Among  the  most  important  of  the  prisoners  was  Al  Abbas, 
the  uncle  of  Mahomet.  He  had  been  captured  by  Abu  Yaser, 
a  man  of  small  stature.  As  the  bystanders  scoffed  at  the  dis- 
parity of  size,  Al  Abbas  pretended  that  he  really  had  surren- 
dered to  a  horseman  of  gigantic  size,  mounted  on  a  steed  the 
like  of  which  he  had  never  seen  before.  Abu  Yaser  would 
have  steadily  maintained  the  truth  of  his  capture,  but  Maho- 
met, willing  to  spare  the  humiliation  of  his  uncle,  intimated 
that  the  captor  had  been  aided  by  the  angel  Gabriel. 

Al  Abbas  would  have  excused  himself  from  paying  ransom, 
alleging  that  he  was  a  Moslem  hi  heart,  and  had  only  taken 
part  in  the  battle  on  compulsion;  but  his  excuse  did  not  avail. 
It  is  thought  by  many  that  he  really  had  a  secret  understand- 
ing with  his  nephew,  and  was  employed  by  him  as  a  spy  in 
Mecca,  both  before  and  after  the  battle  of  Beder. 

Another  prisoner  of  great  importance  to  Mahomet  was  Abul 
Aass,  the  husband  of  his  daughter  Zeinab.  The  prophet  would 
fain  have  drawn  his  son-in-law  to  him  and  enrolled  him  among 
his  disciples,  but  Abul  Aass  remained  stubborn  in  unbelief. 
Mahomet  then  offered  to  set  him  at  liberty  on  condition  of  his 
returning  to  him  his  daughter.  To  this  the  infidel  agreed,  and 
Zeid,  the  faithful  freedman  of  the  prophet,  was  sent  with  sev- 
eral companions  to  Mecca,  to  bring  Zeinab  to  Medina ;  in  the 
mean  time  her  husband,  Abul  Aasspremained  a  hostage  for 
the  fulfilment  of  the  compact. 

Before  the  army  returned  to  Medina  there  was  a  division  of 
the  spoil;  for,  though  the  caravan  of  Abu  Sofian  had  escaped, 


MAHOMET  AJVD  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  10S 

yet  considerable  booty  of  weapons  and  camels  bad  been  taken 
in  the  battle,  and  a  large  sum  of  money  would  accrue  from  the 
ransom  of  the  prisoners.  On  this  occasion  Mahomet  ordered 
that  the  whole  should  be  equally  divided  among  all  the  Mos- 
lems engaged  in  the  enterprise ;  and  though  it  was  a  long- 
established  custom  among  the  Arabs  to  give  a  fourth  part  of 
the  booty  to  the  chief,  yet  he  contented  himself  with  the  same 
share  as  the  rest.  Among  the  spoil  which  fell  to  his  lot  was  a 
famous  sword  of  admirable  temper,  called  Dhul  Fakar,  or  the 
Piercer.  He  ever  afterward  bore  it  when  in  battle;  and  his 
son-in-law,  Ali,  inherited  it  at  his  death. 

This  equal  distribution  of  the  booty  caused  great  murmurs 
among  the  troops.  Those  who  had  borne  the  brunt  of  the 
fight,  and  had  been  most  active  in  taking  the  spoil,  complained 
that  they  had  to  share  alike  with  those  who  had  stood  aloof 
from  the  affray,  and  with  the  old  men  who  had  remained  to 
guard  the  camp.  The  dispute,  observes  Sale,  resembles  that 
of  the  soldiers  of  David  in  relation  to  spoils  taken  from  the 
Amalekites;  those  who  had  been  in  the  action  insisting  that 
they  who  tarried  by  the  stuff  should  have  no  share  of  the  spoil. 
The  decision  was  the  same — that  they  should  share  alike 
(1  Samuel  30:  21-25).  Mahomet,  from  his  knowledge  of  Bible 
history,  may  have  been  guided  by  this  decision.  The  division 
of  the  spoils  was  an  important  point  to  settle,  for  a  leader 
about  to  enter  on  a  career  of  predatory  warfare.  Fortunately, 
he  had  a  timely  revelation  shortly  after  his  return  to  Mecca, 
regulating  for  the  future  the  division  of  all  booty  gained  in 
fighting  for  the  faith. 

Such  are  the  particulars  of  the  famous  battle  of  Beder,  the 
first  victory  of  the  Saracens  under  the  standard  of  Mahomet ; 
inconsiderable,  perhaps,  in  itself,  but  stupendous  in  its  results; 
being  the  commencement  of  a  career  of  victories  winch  changed 
the  destinies  of  the  world. 


105  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

DEATH  OF  THE  PROPHET'S  DAUGHTER  ROKAIA — RESTORATION  OF 
HIS  DAUGHTER  ZEINAB — EFFECT  OF  THE  PROPHET'S  MALEDIC- 
TION ON  ABU  LAHAB  AND  HIS  FAMILY — FRANTIC  RAGE  OF  HEN- 
DA,  THE  WIFE  OF  ABU  SOFIAN— MAHOMET  NARROWLY  ESCAPES 
ASSASSINATION— EMBASSY  OF  THE  KOREISHITES— THE  KING  OF 
ABYSSINIA. 

Mahomet  returned  in  triumph  to  Medina  with  the  spoils  and 
prisoners  taken  in  his  first  battle.  His  exultation,  however, 
was  checked  by  domestic  grief.  Rokaia,  his  beloved  daughter, 
so  recently  restored  from  exile,  was  no  more.  The  messenger 
who  preceded  Mahomet  with  tidings  of  his  victory  met  the 
funeral  train  at  the  gate  of  the  city,  bearing  her  body  to  the 
tomb. 

The  affliction  of  the  prophet  was  soothed  shortly  afterward 
by  the  arrival  from  Mecca  of  his  daughter  Zeinab,  conducted 
by  the  faithful  Zeid.  The  mission  of  Zeid  had  been  attended 
with  difficulties.  The  people  of  Mecca  were  exasperated  by 
the  late  defeat,  and  the  necessity  of  ransoming  the  prisoners. 
Zeid  remained,  therefore,  without  the  walls,  and  sent  in  a 
message  to  Kenanah,  the  brother  of  Abul  Aass,  informing  him 
of  the  compact,  and  appointing  a  place  where  Zeinab  should 
be  delivered  into  his  hands.  Kenanah  set  out  to  conduct  her 
thither  in  a  litter.  On  the  way  he  was  beset  by  a  throng  of 
Koreiskites,  determined  to  prevent  the  daughter  of  Mahomet 
from  being  restored  to  him.  In  the  confusion  one  Habbar  Ibn 
Aswad  made  a  thrust  at  the  litter  with  a  lance,  which,  had  not 
Kenanah  parried  it  with  his  bow,  might  have  proved  fatal  to 
Zeinab.  Abu  Sofian  was  attracted  to  the  place  by  the  noise 
and  tumult,  and  rebuked  Kenanah  for  restoring  Mahomet's 
daughter  thus  publicly,  as  it  might  be  construed  into  a  weak 
concession;  Zeinab  was  taken  back,  therefore,  to  her  home, 
and  Kenanah  delivered  her  up  secretly  to  Zeid  in  the  course 
of  the  following  night. 

Mahomet  was  so  exasperated  at  hearing  of  the  attack  on  his 
daughter  that  he  ordered  whoever  should  take  Habbar,  to 
burn  him  alive.  When  his  rage  had  subsided,  he  modified  this 
command.     "It  is  for  God  alone,"  said  he,  "to  punish  man 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  107 

with  fire.     If  taken,  let  Habbar  be  put  to  death  with  the 
sword." 

The  recent  triumph  of  the  Moslems  at  Beder  struck  the 
Koreishites  of  Mecca  with  astonishment  and  mortification. 
The  man  so  recently  driven  a  fugitive  from  their  walls  had 
suddenly  started  up  a  powerful  foe.  Several  of  their  brave;!, 
and  most  important  men  had  fallen  beneath  his  sword;  others 
were  his  captives,  and  awaited  a  humiliating  ransom.  Abu 
Lahab,  the  uncle  of  Mahomet,  and  always  his  vehement  op- 
poser,  had  been  unable,  from  illness,  to  take  the  field,  lie 
died  a  few  days  after  hearing  of  the  victory,  his  death  being 
hastened  by  the  exasperation  of  his  spirits.  Pious  Moslems, 
however,  attribute  it  to  the  curse  pronounced  by  Mahomet 
aforetime  on  him  and  his  family,  when  he  raised  his  hand  to 
hurl  a  stone  at  the  prophet  on  the  hill  of  Sal'a.  That  curse, 
say  they,  fell  heavily  also  on  his  son  Otho,  who  had  repudiated 
the  prophet's  daughter  Rokaia ;  he  was  torn  to  pieces  by  a  lion, 
in  the  presence  of  a  whole  caravan,  when  on  a  journey  to 

Syria. 

By  no  one  was  the  recent  defeat  at  Beder  felt  so  severely  as 
by  Abu  Sofian.  He  reached  Mecca  in  safety  with  his  caravan, 
it  is  true;  but  it  was  to  hear  of  the  triumph  of  the  man  he 
detested,  and  to  find  his  home  desolate.  His  wife  Henda  met 
him  with  fi  antic  lamentations  for  the  death  of  her  father,  her 
uncle,  and  her  brother.  Ra^e  mingled  with  her  grief,  and  she 
cried  night  and  day  for  vengeance  on  Hamza  and  Ali,  by 
whose  hands  they  had  fallen. * 

Abu  Sofian  summoned  two  hundred  fleet  horsemen,  each 
with  a  sack  of  meal  at  his  saddle-bow,  the  scanty  provisions  of 
rrn  Arab  for  a  foray;  as  he  sallied  forth  he  vowed  neither  to 
anoint  his  head,  perfume  his  beard,  nor  approach  a  female, 
until  he  had  met  Mahomet  face  to  face.    Scouring  the  country 


*  It  is  a  received  law  among:  all  the  Arabs,  that  whoever  sheds  the  blood  of  a  man. 
owes  blood  on  that  account  to  the  family  of  the  slain  person.  This  ancient  'aw  s 
sanctioned  by  the  Koran.  "  O  true  believers,  the  law  of  retaliation  is  ordained  to 
yon  for  the  slain :  the  free  shall  die  for  the  free."  The  Blood  revenue,  or  Thar,  as  it 
is  termed  m  Arabic,  is  claimed  by  the  relatives  of  all  who  have  been  killed  in  open 
war.  and  not  merely  of  the  actual  homicide,  but  of  all  his  relations.  For  those 
killed  in  wars  between  two  tribes,  the  price  of  blood  is  required  from  the  persons 
■who  were  known  to  have  actually  killed  them. 

The  Arab  regards  this  blood  revenue  as  one  of  his  most  sacred  rirhts.  as  well  as 
dutips:  no  earthly  consideration  could  induce  him  to  give  it  up.  He  has  a  prover- 
bial savins-.  ''Were  hell-fire  to  be  my  lot,  I  would  not  relinquish  the  Thar. "'— See 
Burclchardt,  v.  i.  314,  Notes. 


108  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

to  within  three  miles  of  the  gates  of  Medina,  he  slew  two  of 
the  prophet's  followers,  ravaged  the  fields,  and  burned  the 
date-trees. 

Mahomet  sallied  forth  to  meet  him  at  the  head  of  a  superior 
force.  Abu  Sofian,  regardless  of  his  vow,  did  not  await  his 
approach,  but  turned  bridle  and  fled.  His  troop  clattered 
after  him,  throwing  off  their  sacks  of  meal  in  the  hurry  of 
their  flight;  whence  this  scampering  affair  was  derisively 
called  "The  war  of  the  meal  sacks." 

Moslem  writers  record  an  imminent  risk  of  the  prophet 
while  yet  in  the  field  on  this  occasion.  He  was  one  day  sleep- 
ing alone  at  the  foot  of  a  tree,  at  a  distance  from  his  camp, 
when  he  was  awakened  by  a  noise,  and  beheld  Durthur,  a 
hostile  warrior,  standing  over  him  with  a  drawn  sword.  "  Oh 
Mahomet,"  cried  he,  "  who  is  there  now  to  save  thee?"  "God !" 
replied  the  prophet.  Struck  with  conviction,  Durthur  let  fall 
his  sword,  which  was  instantly  seized  upon  by  Mahomet. 
Brandishing  the  weapon,  he  exclaimed  in  turn,  "  Who  is  there 
now  to  save  thee,  oh  Durthur?"  "Alas,  no  one  ["replied  the 
soldier.  "  Then  learn  from  me  to  be  merciful."  So  saying,  he 
returned  the  sword.  The  heart  of  the  warrior  was  overcome ; 
he  acknowledged  Mahomet  as  the  prophet  of  God,  and  em- 
braced the  faith." 

As  if  the  anecdote  were  not  sufficiently  marvellous,  other 
devout  Moslems  affirm  that  the  deliverance  of  Mahomet  was 
through  the  intervention  of  the  angel  Gabriel,  who,  at  the 
moment  Durthur  was  about  to  strike,  gave  him  a  blow  on  the 
breast  with  his  invisible  hand,  which  caused  him  to  let  fall  his 
swTord. 

About  this  time  the  Koreishites  of  Mecca  bethought  them- 
selves of  the  relatives  and  disciples  of  Mahomet  who  had  taken 
refuge  from  there  persecutions  in  Abyssinia,  most  of  whom 
still  remained  there  under  the  protection  of  the  Najashee  or 
Abyssinian  king.  To  this  potentate  the  Koreishites  sent  an 
embassy  to  obtain  the  persons  of  the  fugitives.  One  of  the 
ambassadors  was  Abdallah  Ibn  Rabia;  another  was  Amru  Ibn 
Al  Aass,  the  distinguished  poet  who  had  assailed  Mahomet  at 
the  outset  of  his  mission  with  lampoons  and  madrigals.  Ho 
was  now  more  matured  in  years,  and  as  remarkable  for  his 
acute  sagacity  as  for  his  poetic  talents.  He  was  still  a  re- 
doubtable opponent  of  the  faith  of  Islam,  of  which  in  after 
years  he  was  to  prove  one  of  the  bravest  and  most  distin- 
guished champions. 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  109 

Amvu  and  Abdallah  opened  their  embassy  in  the  oriental 
style  by  the  parade  of  rich  presents,  and  then  requested,  in 
the  name  of  the  Koreish  authorities  of  Mecca,  that  the  fugi- 
tives might  be  delivered  up  to  them.  The  king  was  a  just  man, 
and  summoned  the  Moslems  before  him  to  explain  this  new 
and  dangerous  heresy  of  which  they  were  accused.  Among 
their  number  was  Giafar,  or  Jaafar,  the  son  of  Abu  Taleb,  and 
brother  of  Ali,  consequently  the  cousin  of  Mahomet.  He  was 
a  man  of  persuasive  eloquence  and  a  most  prepossessing  ap- 
pearance. He  stood  forth  on  this  occasion,  and  expounded 
the  doctrines  of  Islam  with  zeal  and  power.  The  king,  who, 
as  has  been  observed,  was  a  Nestorian  Christian,  found  these 
doctrines  so  similar  in  many  respects  to  those  of  his  sect,  and 
so  opposed  to  the  gross  idolatry  of  the  Koreishites,  that,  so  far 
from  giving  up  the  fugitives,  he  took  them  more  especially 
into  favor  and  protection,  and  returning  to  Amru  and  Ab- 
dallah the  presents  they  had  brought,  dismissed  them  from  his 
court. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

GROWING  POWER  OF  MAHOMET  — HIS  RESENTMENT  AGAINST  THE 
JEWS— INSULT  TO  AN  ARAB  DAMSEL  BY  THE  JEWISH  TRIBE  OF 
KAINOKA— A  TUMULT — THE  BENI  KAINOKA  TAKE  REFUGE  IN 
THEIR  CASTLE— SUBDUED  AND  PUNISHED  BY  CONFISCATION  AND 
BANISHMENT — MARRIAGE  OF  OTHMAN  TO  THE  PROPHET'S  DAUGH- 
TER OMM  KOLTHUM  AND   OF  THE   PROPHET   TO   HAFZA. 

The  battle  of  Beder  had  completely  changed  the  position  of 
Mahomet;  he  was  now  a  triumphant  chief  of  a  growing  power. 
The  idolatrous  tribes  of  Ai'abia  were  easily  converted  to  a 
faith  which  flattered  their  predatory  inclinations  with  the 
hope  of  spoil,  and  which,  after  all,  professed  but  to  bring  them 
back  to  the  primitive  religion  of  their  ancestors ;  the  first  cav- 
alcade, therefore,  which  entered  the  gates  of  Medina  with  the 
plunder  of  a  camp  made  converts  of  almost  all  its  heathen 
inhabitants,  and  gave  Mahomet  the  control  of  the  city.  His 
own  tone  now  became  altered,  and  he  spoke  as  a  lawgiver  and 
a  sovereign.  The  first  evidence  of  this  change  of  feeling  was 
in  his  treatment  of  the  Jews,  of  whom  there  were  three  prin- 
cipal and  powerful  families  in  Medina. 


HO  MAUOMin'  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

All  the  concessions  made  by  him  to  that  stiff-necked  race 
had  proved  fruitless ;  they  not  only  remained  stubborn  in  un- 
belief, but  treated  him  and  his  doctrines  with  ridicule.  Assma, 
the  daughter  of  Merwan,  a  Jewish  poetess,  wrote  satires 
against  him.  She  was  put  to  death  by  one  of  his  fanatic  dis- 
ciples. Abu  Afak,  an  Israelite,  one  hundred  and  twenty  years 
of  age,  was  likewise  slain  for  indulging  in  satire  against  the 
prophet.  Kaab  Ibn  Aschraf,  another  Jewish  poet,  repaired  to 
Mecca,  after  the  battle  of  Beder,  and  endeavored  to  stir  up  the 
Koreishites  to  vengeance,  reciting  verses  in  which  he  extolled 
the  virtues  and  bewailed  the  death  of  those  of  their  tribe  who 
had  fallen  in  the  battle.  Such  was  his  infatuation  that  he  re- 
cited these  verses  in  public,  on  Ms  return  to  Medina,  and  in 
the  presence  of  some  of  the  prophet's  adherents  who  were 
related  to  the  slain.  Stung  by  this  invidious  hostility,  Ma- 
homet one  day  exclaimed  in  his  anger,  ' '  Who  will  rid  me  of 
this  son  of  Aschraf?"  Within  a  few  days  afterward  Kaab 
paid  for  his  poetry  with  his  life,  being  slain  by  a  zealous  An- 
sarian  of  the  Awsite  tribe. 

An  event  at  length  occurred  which  caused  the  anger  of  Ma- 
homet against  the  Jews  to  break  out  in  open  hostility.  A 
damsel  of  one  of  the  pastoral  tribes  of  Arabs  who  brought 
milk  to  the  city  was  one  day  in  the  quarter  inhabited  by  the 
Beni  Kainoka,  or  children  of  Kainoka,  one  of  the  three  princi- 
pal Jewish  families.  Here  she  was  accosted  by  a  number  of 
young  Israelites,  who  having  heard  her  beauty  extolled,  be- 
sought her  to  uncover  her  face.  The  damsel  refused  an  act 
contrary  to  the  laws  of  propriety  among  her  people.  A  young 
goldsmith,  whose  shop  was  hard  by,  secretly  fastened  the  end 
of  her  veil  to  the  bench  on  which  she  was  sitting,  so  that  when 
she  rose  to  depart  the  garment  remained,  and  her  face  was 
exposed  to  view.  Upon  this  there  was  laughter  and  scoffing 
among  the  young  Israelites,  and  the  damsel  stood  in  the  midst 
confounded  and  abashed.  A  Moslem  present,  resenting  the 
shame  put  upon  her,  drew  his  sword,  and  thrust  it  through 
the  body  of  the  goldsmith ;  he  in  his  turn  was  instantly  slain 
by  the  Israelites.  The  Moslems  from  a  neighboring  quarter 
flew  to  arms,  the  Beni  Kainoka  did  the  same,  but  being  infe- 
rior in  numbers,  took  refuge  in  a  stronghold.  Mahomet  inter- 
fered to  quell  the  tumult;  but,  being  generally  exasperated 
against  the  Israelites,  insisted  that  "the  offending  tribe  should 
forthwith  embrace  the  faith.  They  pleaded  the  treaty  which 
he  had  made  with  them  on  his  coming  to  Medina,  by  which 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  m 

they  were  allowed  the  enjoyment  of  their  religion;  but  he  was 
not  to  be  moved.  For  some  time  the  Beni  Kainoka  refused  to 
yield,  and  remained  obstinately  shut  up  in  their  stronghold ; 
but  famine  compelled  them  to  surrender.  Abdallah  Ibn  Obba 
Solul,  the  leader  of  the  Khazradites,  who  was  a  protector  of 
this  Jewish  tribe,  interfered  in  their  favor,  and  prevented 
their  being  put  to  the  sword;  but  their  wealth  and  effects  were 
confiscated,  and  they  were  banished  to  Syria,  to  the  number 
of  seven  hundred  men. 

The  arms  and  riches  accruing  to  the  prophet  and  his  follow- 
ers from  tins  confiscation  were  of  great  avail  in  the  ensuing 
wars  of  the  faith.  Among  the  weapons  which  fell  to  the  share 
of  Mahomet  are  enumerated  three  swords :  Medham,  the  Keen ; 
al  Batter,  the  Trenchant,  and  Hatef,  the  Deadly.  Two  lances, 
al  Monthari,  the  Disperser,  and  al  Monthawi,  the  Destroyer. 
A  cuirass  of  silver,  named  al  Fadha,  and  another  named  al 
Saadia,  said  to  have  been  given  by  Said  to  David,  when  about 
to  encounter  Goliath.  There  was  a  bow,  too,  called  al  Calum, 
or  the  Strong,  but  it  did  not  answer  to  its  name,  for  in  the  first 
battle  in  which  the  prophet  used  it  he  drew  it  with  such  force 
that  he  broke  it  in  pieces.  In  general  he  used  the  Arabian 
kind  of  bow,  with  appropriate  arrows  and  lances,  and  forbade 
his  followers  to  use  those  of  Persia. 

Mahomet  now  sought  no  longer  to  conciliate  the  Jews ;  on 
the  contrary,  they  became  objects  of  his  religious  hostility.  He 
revoked  the  regulation  by  Avhich  ho  had  made  Jerusalem  the 
Kebla  or  point  of  prayer,  and  established  Mecca  in  its  place ; 
toward  which,  ever  since,  the  Mahometans  turn  their  faces 
when  performing  their  devotions. 

The  death  of  the  prophet's  daughter  Rokaia  had  been  prop- 
erly deplored  by  her  husband  Othman.  To  console  the  latter 
for  his  loss,  Omar,  his  brother  in  arms,  offered  him,  in  the 
course  of  the  year,  his  daughter  Hafza  for  wife.  She  was  the 
widow  of  Hobask,  a  Suhamite,  eighteen  years  of  age,  and  of 
tempting  beauty,  yet  Othman  declined  the  match.  Omar  was 
indignant  at  what  he  conceived  a  slight  to  his  daughter  and  to 
himself,  and  complained  of  it  to  Mahomet.  "Be  not  grieved, 
Omar,"  replied  the  prophet,  'a  better  wife  is  destmed  for  Oth- 
man, and  a  better  husband  for  thy  daughter."  He  in  effect 
gave  his  own  daughter  Omm  Kolthum  to  Othman,  and  took 
the  fair  Hafza  to  wife  himself.  By  these  politic  alliances  he 
grappled  both  Othman  and  Omar  more  strongly  to  his  side, 
while  he  gratified  his  own  inclinations  for  female  beauty. 


112  MAHOMET  AND  UIS  SUCCESSORS, 

Hafza,  next  to  Ayesha,  was  the  most  favored  of  his  wives ;  and 
was  intrusted  with  the  coffer  containing  the  chapters  and 
verses  of  the  Koran  as  they  were  revealed. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

HENDA  INCITES  ABU  S0FIAN  AND  THE  KOREISHITES  TO  REVENGE 
THE  DEATH  OF  HER  RELATIONS  SLAIN  IN  THE  BATTLE  OP 
BEDER— THE  KOREISHITES  SALLY  FORTH,  FOLLOWED  BY  HENDA 
AND  HER  FEMALE  COMPANIONS— BATTLE  OF  OHOD —FEROCIOUS 
TRIUMPH  OF  HENDA— MAHOMET  CONSOLES  HIMSELF  BY  MARRY- 
ING HEND,    THE  DAUGHTER  OF  OMEYA. 

As  the  power  of  Mahomet  increased  in  Medina,  the  hostility 
of  the  Koreishites  in  Mecca  augmented  in  virulence.  Abu  So- 
fian  held  command  in  the  sacred  city,  and  was  incessantly 
urged  to  warfare  by  his  wife  Henda,  whose  fierce  spirit  could 
take  no  rest,  until  "blood  revenge"  had  been  wreaked  on  those 
by  whom  her  father  and  brother  had  been  slain.  Akrema, 
also,  a  son  of  Abu  Jahl.  and  who  inherited  his  father's  hatred 
of  the  prophet,  clamored  for  vengeance.  In  the  third  year  of 
the  Hegira,  therefore,  the  year  after  the  battle  of  Beder,  Abu 
Sofian  took  the  field  at  the  head  of  three  thousand  men.  most 
of  them  Koreishites,  though  there  were  also  Arabs  of  the  tribe? 
of  Kanana  and  Tehama.  Seven  hundred  were  armed  with 
corselets,  and  two  hundred  were  horsemen.  Akrema  was  one 
of  the  captains,  as  was  also  Khaled  Ibn  al  Waled,  a  warrior  of 
indomitable  valor,  who  afterward  rose  to  great  renown.  The 
banners  were  borne  in  front  by  the  race  of  Abd  al  Dar,  a  branch 
of  the  tribe  of  Koreish,  who  had  a  hereditary  right  to  the  fore- 
most place  in  council,  the  foremost  rank  in  battle,  and  to  bear 
the  standard  in  the  advance  of  the  army. 

In  the  rear  of  the  host  followed  the  vindictive  Henda,  with 
fifteen  principal  women  of  Mecca,  relatives  of  those  slain  in  the 
battle  of  Beder;  sometimes  filling  the  air  with  wailings  and 
lamentations  for  the  dead,  at  other  times  animating  the  troops 
with  the  sound  of  timbrels  and  warlike  chants.  As  they  passed 
through  the  village  of  Abwa,  where  Amina  the  mother  of  Ma- 
homet was  interred,  Henda  was  with  difficulty  prevented  from 
tearing  the  mouldering  bones  out  of  the  grave. 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  H3 

Al  Abbas,  the  uncle  of  Mahomet,  who  still  resided  in  Mecca, 
and  was  considered  hostile  to  the  new  faith,  seeing  that  destruc- 
tion threatened  his  nephew  should  that  army  come  upon  him 
by  surprise,  sent  secretly  a  swift  messenger  to  inform  him  of 
his  danger.  Mahomet  was  at  the  village  of  Koba  when  the 
message  reached  him.  He  immediately  hastened  back  to  Me- 
dina, and  called  a  council  of  his  principal  adherents.  Repre- 
senting the  insufficiency  of  their  force  to  take  the  field,  he  gave 
it  as  his  opinion  that  they  should  await  an  attack  in  Medina, 
where  the  very  women  and  children  could  aid  them  by  hurling 
stones  from  the  house-tops.  The  elder  among  his  followers 
joined  in  his  opinion ;  but  the  young  men,  of  heady  valor  at  all 
times,  and  elated  by  the  late  victory  at  Beder,  cried  out  for  a 
fair  fight  in  the  open  field. 

Mahomet  yielded  to  their  clamors,  but  his  forces,  when  mus- 
tered, were  scarce  a  thousand  men;  one  hundred  only  had 
cuirasses,  and  but  two  were  horsemen.  The  hearts  of  those  re^ 
cently  so  clamorous  to  sally  forth  now  misgave  them,  and  they 
would  fain  await  the  encounter  within  the  walls.  "No,"  re- 
plied Mahomet,  ' '  it  becomes  not  a  prophet  when  once  he  has 
drawn  the  sword  to  sheathe  it ;  nor  when  once  he  has  advanced, 
to  turn  back,  until  God  has  decided  between  him  and  the  foe." 
So  saying,  he  led  forth  his  army.  Part  of  it  was  composed  of 
Jews  and  Khazradites,  led  by  Abdallah  Ibn  Obba  Solul.  Ma- 
homet declined  the  assistance  of  the  Jews,  unless  they  embraced 
the  faith  of  Islam,  and  as  they  refused,  he  ordered  them  back 
to  Medina,  upon  which  their  protector,  Abdallah,  turned  back 
also  with  his  Khazradites,  thus  reducing  the  army  to  about 
seven  hundred  men. 

"With  this  small  force  Mahomet  posted  himself  upon  the  hill 
of  Ohod,  about  six  miles  from  Medina.  His  position  was  partly 
defended  by  rocks  and  the  asperities  of  the  hill,  and  archers 
were  stationed  to  protect  him  in  flank  and  rear  from  the  at- 
tacks of  cavalry.  He  Avas  armed  with  a  helmet  and  two  shirts 
of  mail.  On  his  sword  was  engraved,  "Fear  brings  disgrace; 
forward  lies  honor.  Cowardice  saves  no  man  from  his  fate." 
As  he  was  not  prone  to  take  an  active  part  in  battle,  he  confided 
his  sword  to  a  brave  warrior,  Abu  Dudjana,  who  swore  to 
wield  it  as  long  as  it  had  edge  and  temper.  For  himself,  he,  as 
usual,  took  a  commanding  stand  whence  he  might  overlook  the 
field. 

The  Koreishites,  confident  in  their  numbers,  came  marching  to 
the  foot  of  the  hill  with  banners  flying.   Abu  Sofian  led  the  cen- 


114  MAHOMET  AM)  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

tre ;  there  were  a  hundred  horsemen  on  each  wing ;  the  left  com- 
manded hy  Akrema,  the  son  of  Abu  Jahl,  the  right  by  Khaled 
Ibn  al  Waled.  As  they  advanced,  Henda  and  her  companions 
struck  their  timbrels  and  chanted  their  war  song,  shrieking  out 
at  intervals  the  names  of  those  who  had  been  slain  in  the  battle 
of  Beder.  ' '  Courage,  sons  of  Abd  al  Dar !"  cried  they  to  the 
standard-bearers.  "Forward  to  the  fight!  close  with  the  foe! 
strike  home  and  spare  not.  Sharp  be  your  swords  and  pitiless 
your  hearts !" 

Mahomet  restrained  the  impatience  of  his  troops,  ordering 
them  not  to  commence  the  fight,  but  to  stand  firm  and  main- 
tain their  advantage  of  the  rising  ground.  Above  all,  the  arch- 
ers were  to  keep  to  their  post,  let  the  battle  go  as  it  might,  lest 
the  cavalry  should  fall  upon  his  rear. 

The  horsemen,  of  the  left  wing,  led  by  Akrema,  now  at- 
tempted to  take  the  Moslems  in  flank,  but  were  repulsed  by  the 
archprs,  and- retreated  in  confusion.  Upon  this  Hamza  set  up 
the  Moslem  war-cry,  Amit !  amit !  (Death !  death !)  and  rushed 
down  with  his  forces  upon  the  centre.  Abu  Dudjana  was  at 
his  right  hand,  armed  with  the  sword  of  Mahomet  and  hav- 
ing a  red  band  round  his  head,  on  which  was  written,  ' '  Help 
comes  from  God !  victory  is  ours !" 

The  enemy  was  staggered  by  the  shock.  Abu  Dudjana 
dashed  into  the  midst  of  them,  dealing  deadly  blows  on  every 
side,  and  exclaiming,  "The  sword  of  God  and  his  prophet!" 
Seven  standard-bearers,  of  the  race  of  Abd  el  Dar,  were,  one 
after  the  other,  struck  down,  and  the  centre  began  to  yield. 
The  Moslem  archers,  thinking  the  victory  secure,  forgot  the 
commands  of  Mahomet,  and  leaving  their  post,  dispersed  in 
quest  of  spoil,  crying  "Booty!  booty!"  Upon  this  Khaled,  ral- 
lying the  horse,  got  possession  of  the  ground  abandoned  by  the 
archers,  attacked  the  Moslems  in  rear,  put  some  to  flight,  and 
threw  the  rest  in  confusion.  In  the  midst  of  the  confusion  a 
horseman,  Obbij  Ibn  Chalaf  by  name,  pressed  through  the 
throng,  crying,  "Where  is  Mahomet?  There  is  no  safety  while 
he  lives."  But  Mahomet,  seizing  a  lance  from  an  attendant, 
thrust  it  through  the  throat  of  the  idolater,  who  fell  dead  from 
his  horse.  "Thus,"  says  the  pious  Al  Jannabi,  "  died  this 
enemy  of  God,  who,  some  years  before,  had  menaced  the  pro- 
phet, saying,  'I  shall  find  a  day  to.  slay  thee.'  'Have  a  care,' 
was  the  reply ;  '  if  it  please  Allah,  thou  thyself  shall  fall  be- 
neath my  hand.' " 

In  the  midst  of  the  melec  a  stone  from  a  sling  struck  Maho- 


MAHOMET  AND  MS  SUCCESSORS.  H5 

met  on  the  moutn,  cutting  his  lip  and  knocking  out  one  of  his 
front  teeth ;  he  was  wounded  in  the  face  also  by  an  arrow,  the 
iron  head  of  which  remained  in  the  wound-  Hamza,  too,  while 
slaying  a  Korcishite,  was  transfixed  by  the  lance  of  Waksa,  an 
Ethiopian  slave,  who  had  been  promised  his  freedom  if  he 
should  revenge  the  death  of  his  master,  slain  by  Hamza  in  the 
battle  of  Beder.  Mosaab  Ibn  Omair,  also,  who  bore  the  stand- 
ard  of  Mahomet,  was  laid  low,  but  Ali  seized  the  sacred  ban- 
ner, and  bore  it  aloft  amid  the  storm  of  battle. 

As  Mosaab  resembled  the  prophet  in  person,  a  shout  was  put 
up  by  the  enemy  that  Mahomet  was  slam.  The  Koreishites 
were  inspired  with  redoubled  ardor  at  the  sound ;  the  Moslems 
fled  in  despair,  bearing  with  them  Abu  Beker  and  Omar,  who 
were  wounded.  Raab,  the  son  of  Malek,  however,  beheld  Ma- 
homet lying  among  the  wounded  in  a  ditch,  and  knew  him  by 
his  armor.  "  Oh  believers !"  cried  he,  "  the  prophet  of  God  yet 
lives.  To  the  rescue!  to  the  rescue!"  Mahomet  was  drawn 
forth  and  borne  up  the  hill  to  the  summit  of  a  rock,  where  the 
Moslems  prepared  for  a  desperate  defence.  The  Koreishites, 
however,  thinking  Mahomet  slain,  forbore  to  pursue  them,  con- 
tenting themselves  with  plundering  and  mutilating  the  dead. 
Henda  and  her  female  companions  were  foremost  in  the  savage 
work  of  vengeance ;  and  the  ferocious  heroine  sought  to  tear 
out  and  devour  the  heart  of  Hamza.  Abu  Sofian  bore  a  part 
of  the  mangled  body  upon  his  lance,  and  descending  the  hill 
in  triumph,  exclaimed  exultingly,  "War  has  its  vicissitudes. 
The  battle  of  Ohod  succeeds  to  the  battle  of  Beder." 

The  Koreishites  having  withdrawn,  Mahomet  descended 
from  the  rock  and  visited  the  field  of  battle.  At  sight  of  the 
body  of  his  uncle  Hamza,  so  brutally  mangled  and  mutilated, 
he  vowed  to  inflict  like  outrage  on  seventy  of  the  enemy  when 
in  his  power.  His  grief,  we  are  told,  was  soothed  by  the  angel 
Gabriel,  who  assured  him  that  Hamza  was  enregistered  an  in- 
habitant of  the  seventh  heaven,  by  the  title  of  "The  lion  of 
God  and  of  his  prophet." 

The  bodies  of  the  slain  were  interred  two  and  two,  and  three 
and  three,  in  the  places  where  they  had  fallen.  Mahomet  for- 
bade his  followers  to  mourn  for  the  dead  by  cutting  off  their 
hair,  rending  their  garments,  and  the  other  modes  of  lamenta- 
tion usual  among  the  Arabs ;  but  he  consented  that  they  should 
weep  for  the  dead,  as  tears  relieve  the  overladen  heart. 

The  night  succeeding  the  battle  was  one  of  great  disquie- 
tude,  lest  the  Koreishites  should  make  another  attack,   or 


116  MAHOMET  AND  1118  SUCCESSORS. 

should  surprise  Medina.  On  the  following  day  he  marched 
in  the  direction  of  that  city,  hovering  near  the  enemy,  and 
on  the  return  of  night  lighting  numerous  watch-fires.  Abu 
Sofian,  however,  had  received  intelligence  that  Mahomet  was 
still  alive.  He  felt  himself  too  weak  to  attack  the  city,  there- 
fore, while  Mahomet  was  in  the  field,  and  might  come  to  its 
assistance,  and  he  feared  that  the  latter  might  be  reinforced  by 
its  inhabitants,  and  seek  him  with  superior  numbers.  Con- 
tenting himself,  therefore,  with  the  recent  victory,  he  made  a 
truce  with  the  Moslems  for  a  year,  and  returned  in  triumph  to 
Mecca. 

Mahomet  sought  consolation  for  this  mortifying  defeat  by 
taking  to  himself  another  wife,  Hend,  the  daughter  of  Omeya, 
a  man  of  great  influence.  She  was  a  widow,  and  had,  with  her 
husband,  been  among  the  number  of  the  fugitives  in  Abyssinia. 
She  was  now  twenty-eight  years  of  age,  and  had  a  son  named 
Salma,  whence  she  was  commonly  called  Omm  Samoa,  or  the 
Mother  of  Salma.  Being  distinguished  for  grace  and  beauty, 
she  had  been  sought  by  Abu  Beker  and  Omar,  but  without  suc- 
cess. Even  Mahomet  at  first  met  with  difficulty.  "Alas!"  said 
she,  "what  happiness  can  the  prophet  of  God  expect  with  me? 
I  am  no  longer  young;  I  have  a  son,  and  I  am  of  a  jealous  dis- 
position. "  "As  to  thy  age, "  replied  Mahomet,  ' '  thou  art  much 
younger  than  I.  As  to  thy  son,  I  will  be  a  father  to  him ;  as 
to  thy  jealous  disposition,  I  will  pray  Allah  to  root  it  from  thy 
heart." 

A  separate  dwelling  was  prepared  for  the  bride,  adjacent  to 
the  mosque.  The  household  goods,  as  stated  by  a  Moslem 
writer,  consisted  of  a  sack  of  barley,  a  hand-mill,  a  pan,  and  a 
pot  of  lard  or  butter.  Such  were  as  yet  the  narrow  means  of 
the  prophet;  or  rather,  such  the  frugality  of  his  habits  and 
the  simplicity  of  Arab  life. 


JStAEOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  117 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

TREACHERY  OF  CERTAIN  JEWISH  TRIBES;  THEIR  PUNISHMENT — 
DEVOTION  OF  THE  PROPHET'S  FREEDMAN  ZEID ;  DIVORCES  HIS 
BEAUTIFUL  WIFE  ZEINAB,  THAT  SHE  MAY  BECOME  THE  WIFE 
OF  THE   PROPHET. 

The  defeat  of  Mahomet  at  the  battle  of  Ohod  acted  for  a  time 
unfavorably  to  his  cause  among  some  of  the  Arab  and  Jewish 
tribes,  as  was  evinced  by  certain  acts  of  perfidy.  The  inhabi- 
tants of  two  towns,  Aclhal  and  Kara,  sent  a  deputation  to  him, 
professing  an  inclination  to  embrace  the  faith,  and  requesting 
missionaries  to  teach  them  its  doctrines.  He  accordingly  sent 
six  disciples  to  accompany  the  deputation ;  but  on  the  journey, 
while  reposing  by  tbe  brook  Eadje  within  the  boundaries  of 
the  Hodseitites,  the  deputies  fell  upon  the  unsuspecting  Mos- 
lems, slew  four  of  them,  and  carried  the  other  two  to  Mecca, 
where  they  gave  them  up  to  the  Koreishites,  who  put  them  to 
death. 

A  similar  act  of  treachery  was  practised  by  the  people  of  the 
province  of  Nadjed.  Pretending  to  be  Moslems,  they  sought 
succor  from  Mahomet  against  their  enemies.  He  sent  a  number 
of  his  followers  to  then1  aid,  who  were  attacked  by  the  Beni 
Suleim  or  Suleimites,  near  the  brook  Manna,  about  four  days' 
journey  from  Medina,  and  slain  almost  to  a  man.  One  of  the 
Moslems,  Arnru  Ibn  Omeya,  escaped  the  carnage  and  made  for 
Medina.  On  the  way  he  met  two  unarmed  Jews  of  the  Beni 
Amir;  either  mistaking  these  for  enemies,  or  provoked  to 
wanton  rage  by  the  death  of  liis  comrades,  he  fell  upon  them 
and  slew  them.  The  tribe,  who  were  at  peace  with  Mahomet, 
called  upon  him  for  redress.  He  referred  the  matter  to  the 
mediation  of  another  Jewish  tribe,  the  Beni  Nadher,  who  had 
rich  possessions  and  a  castle,  called  Zohra,  within  three  miles 
of  Medina.  This  tribe  had  engaged  by  treaty,  when  he  came  a 
fugitive  from  Mecca,  to  maintain  a  neutrality  between  him 
and  his  opponents.  The  chief  of  this  tribe  being  now  applied 
to  as  a  mediator,  invited  Mahomet  to  an  interview.  He  went, 
accompanied  by  Abu  Beker,  Omar,  Ah,  and  a  few  others.  A 
repast  was  spread  in  the  open  air  before  the  mansion  of  the 
chief.    Mahomet,  however,  received  private  information  that 


118  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

he  had  been  treacherously  decoyed  hither  and  was  to  be  slain 
as  he  sat  at  the  repast :  it  is  said  that  he  was  to  be  crushed  by 
a  millstone,  flung  from  the  terraced  roof  of  the  house.  With- 
out intimating  his  knowledge  of  the  treason,  he  left  the  com- 
pany abruptly,  and  hastened  back  to  Medina. 

His  rage  was  now  kindled  against  the  whole  race  of  Nadher, 
and  he  ordered  them  to  leave  the  country  within  ten  days  on 
pain  of  death.  They  would  have  departed,  but  Abdallah  the 
Khazradite  secretly  persuaded  them  to  stay  by  promising 
them  aid.  He  failed  in  his  promise.  The  Beni  Nadher,  thus 
disappointed  by  the  "Chief  of  the  Hypocrites,"  shut  them- 
selves up  in  their  castle  of  Zohra,  where  they  were  besieged  by 
Mahomet,  who  cut  down  and  burned  the  date- trees,  on  which 
they  depended  for  supplies.  At  the  end  of  six  days  they 
capitulated,  and  were  permitted  to  depart,  each  with  a  camel 
load  of  effects,  arms  excepted.  Some  were  banished  to  Syria, 
others  to  Khaibar,  a  strong  Jewish  city  and  fortress,  distant 
several  days'  journey  from  Medina.  As  the  tribe  was  wealthy, 
there  was  great  spoil,  which  Mahomet  took  entirely  to  him- 
self. His  followers  demurred  that  this  was  contrary  to  the 
law  of  partition  revealed  in  the  Koran ;  but  he  let  them  know 
that,  according  to  another  revelation,  all  booty  gained,  like 
the  present,  without  striking  a  blow,  was  not  won  by  man,  but 
was  a  gift  from  God,  and  must  be  delivered  over  to  the  pro- 
phet to  be  expended  by  him  in  good  works,  and  the  relief  of 
orphans,  of  the  poor,  and  the  traveller.  Mahomet  in  effect  did 
not  appropriate  it  to  his  own  benefit,  but  shared  it  among  the 
Mohadjerins,  or  exiles  from  Mecca;  two  Nadherite  Jews  who 
had  embraced  Islamism,  and  two  or  three  Ansarians  or  Auxi- 
liaries of  Medina,  who  had  proved  themselves  worthy,  and 
were  poor. 

We  forbear  to  enter  into  details  of  various  petty  expeditions 
of  Mahomet  about  this  time,  one  of  which  extended  to  the 
neighborhood  of  Tabuk,  on  the  Syrian  frontier,  to  punish  a 
horde  which  had  plundered  the  caravans  of  Medina.  These 
expeditions  were  checkered  in  their  results,  though  mostly 
productive  of  booty,  which  now  began  to  occupy  the  minds  of 
the  Moslems  almost  as  much  as  the  propagation  of  the  faith. 
The  spoils  thus  suddenly  gained  may  have  led  io  riot  and  de- 
bauchery, as  we  find  a  revelation^  of  the  passage  of  the  Koran, 
forbidding  wine  and  games  of  hazard,  those  fruitful  causes  of 
strife  and  insubordination  in  predatory  camps. 

During  this  period  of  his  career  Mahomet  in  more  than  one 


MAHOMET  AM)   JUS  SUCCESSORS.  jjg 

instance  narrowly  escaped  falling  by  the  hand  of  an  assassin. 
He  himself  is  charged  with  the  use  of  insidious  means  to  rid 
himself  of  an  enemy;  for  it  is  said  that  he  sent  Amru  Ibn 
Omeya  on  a  secret  errand  to  Mecca,  to  assassinate  Abu  Sofian, 
but  that  the  plot  was  discovered,  and  the  assassin  only 
escaped  by  rapid  flight.  The  charge,  however,  is  not  well 
substantiated,  and  is  contrary  to  his  general  character  and 
conduct. 

If  Mahomet  had  relentless  enemies,  he  had  devoted  friends, 
an  instance  of  which  we  have  in  the  case  of  his  freedman  and 
adopted  son  Zeid  Ibn  Horeth.  He  had  been  one  of  the  first 
converts  to  the  faith,  and  one  of  its  most  valiant  champions. 
Mahomet  consulted  him  on  all  occasions,  and  employed  him  in 
his  domestic  concerns.  One  day  he  entered  his  house  with  the 
freedom  with  which  a  father  enters  the  dwelling  of  a  son. 
Zeid  was  absent,  but  Zeinab  his  wife,  whom  he  had  recently 
married,  was  at  home.  She  was  the  daughter  of  Djasch,  of 
the  country  of  Kaiba,  and  considered  the  fairest  of  her  tribe. 
In  the  privacy  of  home  she  had  laid  aside  her  veil  and  part  of 
her  attire,  so  that  her  beauty  stood  revealed  to  the  gaze  of 
Mahomet  on  his  sudden  entrance.  He  could  not  refrain  from 
expressions  of  wonder  and  admiration,  to  which  she  made  no 
reply,  but  repeated  them  all  to  her  husband  on  his  return. 
Zeid  knew  the  amorous  susceptibility  of  Mahomet,  and  saw 
that  he  had  been  captivated  by  the  beauty  of  Zeinab.  Hasten- 
ing after  him.  he  offered  to  repudiate  his  wife;  but  the  pro- 
phet forbade  it  as  contrary  to  the  law.  The  zeal  of  Zeid  was 
not  to  be  checked;  he  loved  his  beautiful  wife,  but  he  vene- 
rated the  prophet,  and  he  divorced  himself  without  delay. 
When  the  requisite  term  of  separation  had  elapsed,  Mahomet 
accepted,  with  gratitude,  this  pious  sacrifice.  His  nuptials 
with  Zeinab  surpassed  in  splendor  all  his  other  marriages. 
His  doors  were  thrown  open  to  all  comers:  they  were  feasted 
with  the  flesh  of  sheep  and  lambs,  with  cakes  of  barley,  with 
honey,  and  fruits,  and  favorite  beverages;  so  they  ate  and 
drank  their  fill  and  then  departed — railing  against  the  divorce 
as  shameful,  and  the  marriage  as  incestuous. 

At  this  critical  juncture  was  revealed  that  part  of  the  thirty- 
third  chapter  of  the  Koran,  distinguishing  relatives  by  adop- 
tion from  relatives  by  blood,  according  to  which  there  was  no 
sin  in  marrying  one  who  had  been  the  wife  of  an  adopted  son. 
This  timely  revelation  pacified  the  faithful ;  but,  to  destroy  all 
shadow  of  a  scruple,  Mahomet  revoked  his  adoption,  and  di- 


120  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

rected  Zeid  to  resume  his  original  appellation  of  Ibn  Hareth, 
after  his  natural  father.  The  beautiful  Zeinab,  however, 
boasted  thenceforth  a  superiority  over  the  other  wives  of  the 
prophet  on  the  score  of  the  revelation,  alleging  that  her  mar- 
riage was  ordained  by  heaven.* 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

EXPEDITION  OP  MAHOMET  AGAINST  THE  BENI  MOSTALEK —  HE 
ESPOUSES  BARRA,  A  CAPTIVE — TREACHERY  OP  ABDALLAH  IBN 
OBBA  —  AYESHA  SLANDERED  —  HER  VINDICATION  —  HER  INNO- 
CENCE  PROVED  BY  A  REVELATION. 

Among  the  Arab  tribes  which  ventured  to  take  up  arms 
against  Mahomet  after  his  defeat  at  Ohod,  were  the  Beni  Mos- 
talek,  a  powerful  race  of  Koreishite  origin.  Mahomet  received 
intelligence  of  their  being  assembled  in  warlike  guise  under 
their  prince  Al  Hareth,  near  the  wells  of  Moraisi,  in  the  terri- 
tory of  Kedaid,  and  within  five  miles  of  the  Red  Sea.  He 
immediately  took  the  field  at  the  head  of  a  chosen  band  of 
the  faithful,  accompanied  by  numbers  of  the  Khazradites,  led 
by  their  chief  Abdallah  Ibn  Obba.  By  a  rapid  movement  he 
surprised  the  enemy ;  Al  Hareth  was  killed  at  the  onset  by  the 
flight  shot  of  an  arrow;  his  troops  fled  in  confusion  after  a 
brief  resistance,  in  which  a  few  were  slain.  Two  hundred 
prisoners,  five  thousand  sheep,  and  one  thousand  camels  were 
the  fruits  of  this  easy  victory.  Among  the  captives  was  Barra, 
the  daughter  of  Al  Hareth,  and  wife  to  a  young  Arab  of  her 
kin.  In  the  division  of  the  spoil  she  fell  to  the  lot  of  Thabet 
Ibn  Reis,  who  demanded  a  high  ransom.  The  captive  ap- 
pealed to  Mahomet  against  tins  extortion,  and  prayed  that  the 
ransom  might  be  mitigated.  The  prophet  regarded  her  with 
syes  of  desire,  for  she  was  fair  to  look  upon.  "I  can  serve 
thee  better,"  said  he,  "than  by  abating  thy  ransom:  be  my 
wife."  The  beautiful  Barra  gave  ready  consent ;  her  ransom 
was  paid  by  the  prophet  to  Thabet;  her  kindred  were  liberated 
by  the  Moslems,  to  whose  lot  they  had  fallen ;  most  of  them 


*  This  was  Mahomet's  second  wife  of  the  name  of  Zci.ia.bi  the  first,  who  had  died 
Some  time  previous,  was  the  daughter  of  Chuzeima. 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  121 

embraced  the  faith,  and  Barra  became  the  wife  of  Mahomet 
after  his  return  to  Medina. 

After  the  battle  the  troops  crowded  round  the  wells  of  Mo- 
raisi  to  assuage  then*  thirst.  In  the  press  a  quarrel  rose  be- 
tween some  of  the  Mohadjerins,  or  exiles  of  Mecca,  and  the 
Khazradites,  in  which  one  of  the  latter  received  a  blow.  His 
comrades  rushed  to  revenge  the  insult,  and  blood  would  have 
been  shed  but  for  the  interference  of  Mahomet.  The  Khazra- 
dites remained  incensed,  and  other  of  the  people  of  Medina  made 
common  cause  with  them.  Abdallah  Ibn  Obba,  eager  to  take 
advantage  of  every  circumstance  adverse  to  the  rising  power 
of  Mahomet,  drew  his  kindred  and  townsfolk  apart.  "Be- 
hold," said  he,  "the  insults  you  have  brought  upon  yourselves 
by  harboring  these  fugitive  Koreishites.  You  have  taken  them 
to  your  houses  and  given  them  your  goods,  and  now  they  turn 
upon  and  maltreat  you.  They  would  make  themselves  your 
masters  even  in  your  own  house ;  but  by  Allah,  when  we  re- 
turn to  Medina,  we  will  see  which  of  us  is  strongest." 

Secret  word  was  brought  to  Mahomet  of  this  seditious  speech. 
Omar  counselled  him  at  once  to  make  way  with  Abdallah ;  but 
the  prophet  feared  to  excite  the  vengeance  of  the  kindred  and 
adherents  of  the  powerful  Khazradite.  To  leave  no  time  for 
mutiny,  he  set  off  immediately  on  the  homeward  march,  al- 
though it  was  in  the  heat  of  the  day,  and  continued  on  through- 
out the  night,  nor  halted  until  the  following  noon,  when  the 
wearied  soldiery  pared  for  nothing  but  repose. 

On  arriving  at  Medina,  he  called  Abdallah  to  account  for  his 
seditious  expressions.  He  flatly  denied  them,  pronouncing  the 
one  who  had  accused  him  a  liar.  A  revelation  from  heaven, 
however,  established  the  charge  against  him  and  his  adherents. 
"These  are  the  men,"  says  the  Koran,  "who  say  to  the  in- 
habitants of  Medina,  do  not  bestow  anything  on  the  refugees 
who  are  with  the  apostle  of  God,  that  they  may  be  compelled 
to  separate  from  him.  They  say,  verily,  if  we  return  to  Me- 
dina, the  worthier  will  expel  thence  the  meaner.  God  curse 
them!  how  are  they  turned  aside  from  the  truth." 

Some  of  the  friends  of  Abdallah,  convinced  by  this  revela- 
tion, advised  him  to  ask  pardon  of  the  prophet ;  but  he  spurned 
their  counsel.  "You  have  already,"  said  he,  "persuaded  me 
to  give  this  man  my  countenance  and  friendship,  and  now 
you  would  have  me  put  myself  beneath  his  very  feet. " 

Nothing  could  persuade  him  that  Mahomet  was  not  an  idola- 
ter at  heart,  and  his  revelations  all  imposture  and  deceit.     He 


122  MAHOMET  AND  MS  SUCCESSORS. 

considered  him,  however,  a  formidable  rival,  and  sought  in 
every  way  to  injure  and  annoy  him.  To  this  implacable  hos- 
tility is  attributed  a  scandalous  story  which  he  propagated 
about  Ayesha,  the  favorite  wife  of  the  prophet. 

It  was  the  custom  with  Mahomet  always  to  have  one  of  his 
wives  with  him,  on  his  military  expeditions,  as  companion  and 
solace ;  she  was  taken  by  lot,  and  on  the  recent  occasion  the 
lot  had  fallen  on  Ayesha.  She  travelled  in  a  litter,  inclosed 
by  curtains,  and  borne  on  the  back  of  a  camel,  which  was  led 
by  an  attendant.  On  the  return  homeward,  the  army,  on  one 
occasion,  coming  to  a  halt,  the  attendants  of  Ayesha  were  as- 
tonished to  find  the  litter  empty.  Before  they  had  recovered 
from  their  surprise,  she  arrived  on  a  camel,  led  by  a  youthful 
Arab  named  Safwan  Ibn  al  Moattel.  This  circumstance  hav- 
ing come  to  the  knowledge  of  Abdaliah,  he  proclaimed  it  to  the 
world  after  his  return  to  Medina,  affirming  that  Ayesha  had 
been  guilty  of  wantonness  with  the  youthful  Safwan. 

The  story  was  eagerly  caught  up  and  circulated  by  Hamna, 
the  sister  of  the  beautiful  Zeinab,  whom  Mahomet  had  re- 
cently espoused,  and  who  hoped  to  benefit  her  sister  by  the 
downfall  of  her  deadly  rival  Ayesha;  it  was  echoed  also  by 
Mistah,  a  kinsman  of  Abu  Beker,  and  was  celebrated  in  satiri- 
cal verses  by  a  poet  named  Hasan. 

It  was  some  time  before  Ayesha  knew  of  the  scandal  thus 
circulating  at  her  expense.  Sickness  had  confined  her  to  the 
house  on  her  return  to  Medina,  and  no  one  ventured  to  tell  her 
of  what  she  was  accused.  She  remarked,  however,  that  the 
prophet  was  stern  and  silent,  and  no  longer  treated  her  with 
his  usual  tenderness.  On  her  recovery  she  heard  with  con- 
sternation the  crime  alleged  against  her,  and  protested  her 
innocence.     The  following  is  her  version  of  the  story. 

The  army  on  its  homeward  march  had  encamped  not  far 
from  Medina,  when  orders  were  given  in  the  night  to  march. 
The  attendants,  as  usual,  brought  a  camel  before  the  tent  of 
Ayesha,  and  placing  the  litter  on  the  ground,  retired  until  she 
could  take  her  seat  within  it.  As  she  was  about  to  enter  she 
missed  her  necklace,  and  returned  into  the  tent  to  seek  it.  In 
the  mean  time  the  attendants  lifted  the  litter  upon  the  camel 
and  strapped  it  fast,  not  perceiving  that  it  was  empty;  she 
being  slender  and  of  little  weight.  When  she  returned  from 
seeking  the  necklace,  the  camel  was  gone,  and  the  army  was 
on  the  march;  whereupon  she  wrapped  herself  in  her  mantle 
and  sat  down,   trusting  that,    when  her  absence  fihould   bo 


MAHOMET  AND  I11S  SUCCESSORS.  ]0;j 

discovered,   sonie  persons  would  be  sent  back    in    quest  of 
her. 

While  thus  seated,  Safwan  Ibn  al  Moattel,  the  young  Arab, 
being  one  of  the  rear-guard,  came  up,  and,  recognizing  her,  ac- 
costed her  with  the  usual  Moslem  salutation.  "  To  God  Ave  be- 
long, and  to  God  we  must  return !  Wife  of  the  prophet,  why 
dost  thou  remain  behind?" 

Ayesha  made  no  reply,  but  drew  her  veil  closer  over  her  face. 
Safwan  then  alighted,  aided  her  to  mount  the  camel,  and,  tak- 
ing the  bridle,  hastened  to  rejoin  the  army.  The  sun  had 
risen,  however,  before  he  overtook  it,  just  without  the  walls  of 
Medina. 

This  account,  given  by  Ayesha,  and  attested  by  Safwan  Ibn  al 
Moattel,  was  satisfactory  to  her  parents  and  particular  friends, 
but  was  scoffed  at  by  Abdallah  and  Ms  adherents,  "  the  Hypo- 
crites." Two  parties  thus  arose  on  the  subject,  and  great  strife 
ensued.  As  to  Ayesha,  she  shut  herself  up  within  her  dwell- 
ing, refusing  all  food,  and  weeping  day  and  night  in  the  bitter- 
ness of  her  soul. 

Mahomet  was  sorely  troubled  in  mind,  and  asked  counsel  of 
Ali  in  his  perplexity.  The  latter  made  light  of  the  affair,  ob- 
serving that  his  misfortune  was  the  frequent  lot  of  man.  The 
prophet  was  but  little  consoled  by  this  suggestion.  He  re- 
mained separated  from  Ayesha  for  a  month;  but  his  heart 
yearned  toward  her ;  not  merely  on  account  of  her  beauty,  but 
because  he  loved  her  society.  In  a  paroxysm  of  grief,  he  fell 
into  one  of  those  trances  which  unbelievers  have  attributed  to 
epilepsy ;  in  the  course  of  which  he  received  a  seasonable  reve- 
lation, which  will  be  found  in  a  chapter  of  the  Koran.  It  was 
to  this  effect. 

They  who  accuse  a  reputable  female  of  adultery,  and  produce 
not  four  witnesses  of  the  fact,  shall  be  scourged  with  fourscore 
stripes,  and  their  testimony  rejected.  As  to  those  who  have 
made  the  charge  against  Ayesha,  have  they  produced  four  wit- 
nesses thereof?  If  they  have  not,  they  are  bars  in  the  sight  of 
God.  Let  them  receive,  therefore,  the  punishment  of  their 
crime. 

The  innocence  of  the  beautiful  Ayesha  being  thus  miracu- 
lously made  manifest,  the  prophet  took  her  to  his  bosom  with 
augmented  affection.  Nor  was  he  slow  in  dealing  the  pre- 
scribed castigation,  It  is  true  Abdallah  Ibn  Obba  was  too  pow- 
erful a  personage  to  be  subjected  to  the  scourge,  but  it  fell  the 
heavier  on  the  shoulders  of  his  fellow  calumniators.     The  poet 


124  MAHOMET  AKD  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

Hasan  was  cured  for  some  time  of  his  propensity  to  make  sa- 
tirical verses,  nor  could  Hamna,  though  a  female  and  of  great 
personal  charms,  escape  the  infliction  of  stripes ;  for  Mahomet 
observed  that  such  beauty  should  have  been  accompanied  by  a 
gentler  nature. 

The  revelation  at  once  convinced  the  pious  Ali  of  the  purity 
of  Ayesha;  but  she  never  forgot  nor  forgave  that  he  had 
doubted;  and  the  hatred  thus  implanted  in  her  bosom  was 
manifested  to  his  great  detriment  in  many  of  the  most  impor- 
tant concerns  of  his  after  life. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  MOAT — BRAVERY  OF  SAAD  IBN  MOAD — DE- 
FEAT OF  THE  KOREISHITES — CAPTURE  OF  THE  JEWISH  CASTLE 
OF  KORAIDA — SAAD  DECIDES  AS  TO  THE  PUNISHMENT  OF  THE 
JEWS — MAHOMET  ESPOUSES  REHANA,  A  JEWISH  CAPTIVE— HIS 
LIFE  ENDANGERED  BY  SORCERY;  SAVED  BY  A  REVELATION  OF 
THE  ANGEL  GABRIEL. 

During  the  year  of  truce  which  succeeded  the  battle  of  Ohod, 
Abu  Sofian,  the  restless  chief  of  the  Koreishites,  formed  a  con- 
federacy with  the  Arab  tribe  of  Ghatafan  and  other  tribes  of 
the  desert,  as  well  as  with  many  of  the  Jews  of  the  race  of 
Nadher,  whom  Mahomet  had  driven  from  their  homes.  The 
truce  being  ended,  he  prepared  to  march  upon  Medina,  with 
these  confederates,  their  combined  forces  amounting  to  ten 
thousand  men. 

Mahomet  had  early  intelligence  of  the  meditated  attack,  but 
his  late  reverse  at  Ohod  made  him  wary  of  taking  the  field 
against  such  numbers;  especially  as  he  feared  the  enemy  might 
have  secret  allies  in  Medina ;  where  he  distrusted  the  Jewish 
inhabitants  and  the  Hypocrites,  the  partisans  of  Abdallah  Ibn 
Obba,  who  were  numerous  and  powerful. 

Great  exertions  were  now  made  to  put  the  city  in  a  state  of 
defence.  Salman  the  Persian,  who  had  embraced  the  faith,  ad- 
vised that  a  deep  moat  should  be^  digged  at  some  distance  be- 
yond the  wall,  on  the  side  on  which  the  enemy  would  approach. 
This  mode  of  defence,  hitherto  unused  in  Arabia,  was  eagerly 
adopted  by  Mahomet,  who  set  a  great  number  of  men  to  dig 


MAHOMET  AND  11  IS  SUCCESSORS.  125 

the  moat,  and  even  assisted  personally  in  the  iabor.  Many 
miracles  are  recorded  of  him  during  the  progress  of  this  work. 
At  one  time,  it  is  said,  he  fed  a  great  multitude  from  a  single 
basket  of  dates,  which  remained  full  after  all  were  satisfied. 
At  another  time  he  feasted  a  thousand  men  upon  a  roasted 
lamb  and  a  loaf  of  barley  bread ;  yet  enough  remained  for  all 
his  fellow-laborers  in  the  moat.  Nor  must  we  omit  to  note  the 
wonderful  blows  which  he  gave  to  a  rock  with  an  iron  mallet, 
Striking  off  sparks  which  in  one  direction  lighted  up  all  Yemen, 
or  Arabia  the  Happy ;  in  another  revealed  the  imperial  palace 
at  Constantinople ;  and  in  a  third  illumined  the  towers  of  the 
royal  residence  of  Persia— all  signs  and  portents  of  the  future 
conquests  of  Islam. 

Scarcely  was  the  moat  completed  when  the  enemy  appeared 
in  great  force  on  the  neighboring  hills.  Leaving  Ibn  Omm 
Mactum,  a  trusty  officer,  to  command  in  the  city,  and  keep  a 
vigilant  eye  on  the  disaffected,  Mahomet  sallied  forth  with 
three  thousand  men,  whom  he  formed  in  battle  array,  having 
the  deep  moat  in  front.  Abu  Sofian  advanced  confidently  with 
his  combined  force  of  Koreishites  and  Ghatafanites,  but  was 
unexpectedly  checked  by  the  moat,  and  by  a  galling  fire  from 
the  Moslems  drawn  up  beyond  it.  The  enemy  now  encamped ; 
the  Koreishites  in  the  lower  part  of  the  valley,  and  the  Ghatafa- 
nites in  the  upper ;  and  .for  some  days  the  armies  remained  on 
each  side  of  the  moat,  keeping  up  a  distant  combat  with  slings 
and  stones  and  flights  of  arrows. 

In  the  mean  time  spies  brought  word  to  Mahomet  that  a  Jew- 
ish tribe,  the  Beni  Koraida,  who  had  a  strong  castle  near  the 
city,  and  had  made  a  covenant  of  peace  with  him,  were  hi 
secret  league  with  the  enemy.  He  now  saw  the  difficulty  with 
his  scanty  forces  to  man  the  whole  extent  of  the  moat;  to 
guard  against  a  perfidious  attack  from  the  Koraidites,  and  to 
maintain  quiet  in  the  city  where  the  Jews  must  have  secret 
confederates.  Summoning  a.  council  of  war  he  consulted  with 
his  captains  on  the  policy  of  bribing  the  Ghatafanites  to  a  sepa- 
rate peace  by  offering  them  a  third  of  the  date-harvest  of  Me- 
dina. Upon  this,  Saad  Ibn  Moad,  a  stout  leader  of  the  Awsites 
of  Medina,  demanded:  "Do  you  propose  this  by  the  command 
of  Allah,  or  is  it  an  idea  of  your  own?"  "If  it  had  been  a  com- 
mand of  Allah,"  replied  Mahomet,  "  I  should  never  have  asked 
your  advice.  I  see  you  pressed  by  enemies  on  every  side,  and 
I  seek  to  break  their  confederacy."  "  Oh  prophet  of  God!"  re- 
joined Saad,  "  when  wo  were  fellow -idolaters  with  these  people 


126  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

of  Ghatafan,  they  got  none  of  our  dates  without  paying  for 
them ;  and  shall  we  give  them  up  gratuitously  now  that  we  are 
of  the  true  faith,  and  led  by  thee?  No,  by  Allah !  if  they  want 
our  dates  they  must  win  them  with  their  swords  I" 

The  stout  Saad  had  his  courage  soon  put  to  the  proof.  A 
prowling  party  of  Koreishite  horsemen,  among  whom  was 
Akrema,  the  son  of  Abu  Jahl,  and  Amru,  uncle  of  Mahomet's 
first  wife  Cadi j ah,  discovered  a  place  where  the  moat  was 
narrow,  and  putting  spurs  to  their  steeds  succeeded  in  leap- 
ing over,  followed  by  some  of  their  comrades.  They  then 
challenged  the  bravest  of  the  Moslems  to  equal  combat.  The 
challenge  was  accepted  by  Saad  Ibn  Moad,  by  Ali,  and  several 
of  their  companions.  Ali  had  a  close  combat  with  Amru; 
they  fought  on  horseback  and  on  foot,  until,  grappling  with 
each  other,  they  rolled  in  the  dust.  In  the  end  Ali  was 
victorious,  and  slew  his  foe.  The  general  conflict  was  main- 
tained with  great  obstinacy ;  several  were  slain  on  both  sides, 
and  Saad  Ibn  Moad  was  severely  wounded.  At  length  the 
Koreishites  gave  way,  and  spurred  their  horses  to  recross  the 
moat.  The  steed  of  one  of  them,  Nawfal  Ibn  Abdallah,  leaped 
short ;  his  rider  was  assailed  with  stones  wbile  in  the  moat, 
and  defied  the  Moslems  to  attack  him  with  nobler  weapons. 
In  an  instant  Ali  sprang  down  into  the  moat,  and  Nawfal  soon 
fell  beneath  his  sword.  Ali  then  joined  his  companions  in 
pursuit  of  the  retreating  foe,  and  wounded  Akrema  with  a 
javelin.  This  skirmish  was  dignified  with  the  name  of  the 
battle  of  the  Moat. 

Mahomet,  still  unwilling  to  venture  a  pitched  battle,  sent 
Rueim,  a  secretly  converted  Arab  of  tbe  tribe  of  Ghatafan,  to 
visit  the  camps  of  the  confederates  and  artfully  to  sow  dissen- 
sions among  them.  Rueim  first  repaired  to  the  Koraidites, 
with  whom  he  was  in  old  habits  of  friendship.  "What  folly 
is  this,"  said  he,  "to  suffer  yourselves  to  be  drawn  by  the 
Koreishites  of  Mecca  into  their  quarrel.  Bethink  you  how 
different  is  your  situation  from  theirs.  If  defeated,  they  have 
only  to  retreat  to  Mecca,  and  be  secure.  Their  allies  from  the 
desert  will  also  retire  to  their  distant  homes,  and  you  will  be 
left  to  bear  the  whole  brunt  of  the  vengeance  of  Mahomet  and 
the  people  of  Medina.  Before  you  make  common  cause  with 
them,  therefore,  let  them  pledge  themselves  and  give  hostages, 
never  to  draw  back  until  they  have  broken  the  power  of 
Mahomet." 

He  then  went  to  the  Koreishites  and  the  tribe  of  Ghatafan, 


MAHOMET  AJS'D   HIS  SUCCESSORS.  J  21 

and  warned  them  against  confiding  in  the  Jews  of  Koraida, 
who  intended  to  get  hostages  from  them,  and  deliver  them  up 
into  the  hands  of  Mahomet. 

The  distrust  thus  artfully  sown  among  the  confederates  soon 
produced  its  effects.  Abu  Sofian  sent  word  on  Friday  even- 
ing, to  the  Koraidites,  to  be  ready  to  join  next  morning  in  a 
general  assault.  The  Jews  replied  that  the  following  day  was 
their  Sabbath,  on  which  they  coidd  not  engage  in  battle;  at 
the  same  time  they  declined  to  join  in  any  hostile  act,  unless 
their  allies  should  give  hostages  to  stand  by  them  to  the  end. 

The  Koreishites  and  Ghatafanites  were  now  convinced  of  the 
perfidy  of  the  Koraidites,  and  dared  not  venture  upon  the 
meditated  attack,  lest  these  should  fall  upon  them  in  the  rear. 
While  they  lay  idly  in  their  camp  a  cold  storm  came  on,  with 
drenching  rain  and  sweeping  blasts  from  the  desert.  Their 
tents  were  blown  down;  their  camp-fires  were  extinguished; 
in  the  midst  of  the  uproar  the  alarm  was  given  that  Mahomet 
had  raised  the  storm  by  enchantment,  and  was  coming  upon 
them  with  his  forces.  All  now  Avas  panic  and  confusion.  Aim 
Sofian,  finding  all  efforts  vain  to  pi^oduce  order,  mounted  his 
camel  in  despair,  and  gave  the  word  to  retreat.  The  con- 
federates hurried  off  from  the  scene  of  tumult  and  terror,  the 
Koreishites  toward  Mecca,  the  others  to  their  homes  in  the 
desert. 

Abu  Sofian,  in  rage  and  mortification,  wrote  a  letter  to 
Mahomet,  upbraiding  him  with  his  cowardice  in  lurking 
behind  a  ditch,  a  thing  unknown  in  Arabian  warfare;  and 
threatening  to  take  his  revenge  on  some  future  day,  when 
they  might  meet  in  open  fight,  as  in  the  field  of  Ohod.  Maho- 
met hurled  back  a  defiance,  and  predicted  that  the  day  was 
approaching  when  he  would  break  in  pieces  the  idols  of  the 
Koreishites. 

The  invaders  having  disappeared,  Mahomet  turned  to  take 
vengeance  on  the  Beni  Koraida,  who  shut  themselves  up  in 
their  castle,  and  withstood  a  siege  of  many  days.  At  ler!:' 
pinched  by  famine,  they  implored  the  intercession  of  their 
ancient  friends  and  protectors,  the  Awsites.  The  latter 
entreated  the  prophet  to  grant  these  Hebrews  the  same 
terms  ho  had  formerly  granted  to  the  Beni  Kainoka.  at  the 
prayer  of  Abdallah  the  Khazradite.  Mahomet  reflected  a 
moment,  and  offered  to  leave  their  fate  to  the  decision  of 
Saad  Ibn  Moad,  the  Awsite  chief.  The  Koraidites  gladly 
agreed,   knowing   him  to  have  been  formerly  their  friend. 


128  MAUOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

They  accordingly  surrendered  themselves  to  the  number  of 
eeven  hundred  and  were  conducted  in  chains  to  Medina. 
Unfortunately  for  them,  Saad  considered  their  perfidious 
league  with  the  enemy  as  one  cause  of  the  recent  hostility. 
He  was  still  smarting  with  the  wound  received  in  the  battle 
of  the  Moat,  and  in  his  moments  of  pain  and  anger  had  re- 
peatedly prayed  that  his  life  might  be  spared  to  see  ven- 
geance wreaked  on  the  Koraidites.  Such  was  the  state  of 
his  feelings  when  summoned  to  decide  upon  their  fate. 

Being  a  gross,  luil-blooded  man,  he  was  with  difficulty 
helped  upon  an  ass,  propped  up  by  a  leathern  cushion,  and 
supported  in  his  seat  until  he  arrived  at  the  tribunal  of  justice. 
Before  ascending  it,  he  exacted  an  oath  from  all  present  to 
abide  by  his  decision.  The  Jews  readily  took  it,  anticipating 
a  favorable  sentence.  No  sooner  was  lie  helped  into  the  tri- 
bunal, than,  extending  his  hand,  he  condemned  the  men  to 
death,  the  women  and  children  to  slavery,  and  their  effects  to 
be  shared  among  the  victors. 

The  wretched  Jews  looked  aghast,  but  there  was  no  appeal. 
They  were  conducted  to  a  public  place  since  called  the  Market 
of  the  Koraidites,  where  great  graves  had  been  digged.  Into 
these  they  were  compelled  to  descend,  one  by  one,  their  prince 
Hpya  Ibn  Ahktab  among  the  number,  and  were  successively 
put  to  death.  Thus  the  prayer  of  Saad  Ibn  Moad  for  ven- 
geance on  the  Koraidites  was  fully  gratified.  He  witnessed 
the  execution  of  the  men  he  had  condemned,  but  such  was  his 
excitement  that  his  wound  broke  out  afresh,  and  he  died 
shortly  afterward. 

In  the  Castle  of  Koraida  was  found  a  great  quantity  of  pikes, 
lances,  cuirasses,  and  other  armor;  and  its  lands  were  covered 
with  flocks,  and  herds,  and  camels.  In  dividing  the  spoil  each 
foot  soldier  had  one  lot,  each  horseman  three;  two  for  his 
horse  and  one  for  himself.  A  fifth  part  of  the  whole  waf-  set 
apart  for  the  prophet. 

The  most  precious  prize  in  the  eyes  of  Mahomet  was  Rihana, 
daughter  of  Simeon,  a  wealthy  and  powerful  Jew,  and  the 
most  beautiful  female  of  her  tribe.  He  took  her  to  himself, 
and,  having  converted  her  to  the  faith,  added  her  to  the  num- 
ber of  his  wives.  _ 

But,  though  thus  susceptible  of  the  charms  of  the  Israelitish 
women,  Mahomet  became  more  and  more  vindictive  in  his 
hatred  of  the  men ;  no  longer  putting  faith  in  their  covenants, 
and  suspecting  them  on  the  most  insidious  attempts  upon  his 


MAHOMET  AND  MS  SUCCESSORS.  129 

life.  Moslem  writers  attribute  to  the  spells  of  Jewish  sorcerers 
a  long  and  languishing  illness,  with  which  he  was  afflicted 
about  this  time,  and  which  seemed  to  defy  ah  remedy.  They 
describe  the  very  charm  by  which  it  was  produced.  It  was 
prepared,  say  they,  by  a  Jewish  necromancer  from  the  moun- 
tains, aided  by  his  daughters,  who  were  equally  skilled  in  the 
diabolic  art.  They  formed  a  small  waxen  effigy  of  Mahomet ; 
wound  round  it  some  of  his  hair,  and  thrust  through  it  eleven 
needles.  They  then  made  eleven  knots  in  a  bow-string,  blow- 
ing with  their  breaths  on  each;  and,  winding  a  string  round 
the  effigy,  threw  the  whole  into  a  well. 

Under  the  influence  of  this  potent  spell  Mahomet  wasted 
away,  until  his  friend,  the  angel  Gabriel,  revealed  the  secret 
to  him  in  a  vision.  On  awaking  he  sent  Ali  to  the  well,  where 
the  image  was  discovered.  When  it  was  brought  to  Mahomet, 
continues  the  legend,  he  repeated  over  it  the  two  last  chapters 
of  the  Koran,  which  had  been  communicated  to  him  in  the 
recent  vision.  They  consist  of  eleven  verses,  and  are  to  the 
following  purport. 

In  the  name  of  the  all  merciful  G-od !  I  will  fly  for  refuge  to 
the  Lord  of  the  light  of  day. 

That  he  may  deliver  me  from  the  danger  of  beings  and 
things  created  by  himself. 

From  the  dangers  of  the  darksome  night,  and  of  the  moon 
when  in  eclipse. 

From  the  danger  of  sorcerers,  who  tie  knots  and  blow  on 
them  with  their  breath. 

From  the  danger  of  the  envious,  who  devise  deadly  harm. 

I  will  fly  for  refuge  to  Allah,  the  Lord  of  men. 

To  Allah,  the  King  of  men. 

To  Allah,  the  God  of  men. 

That  he  may  deliver  mo  from  the  evil  spirit  who  flies  at  the 
mention  of  his  holy  name. 

Who  suggests  evil  thoughts  into  the  hearts  of  the  children 
of  men. 

And  from  the  evil  Genii  and  men  who  deal  in  magic. 

At  the  repetition  of  each  one  of  these  verses,  says  the  legend. 
a  knot  of  the  bowstring  came  loose,  a  needle  fell  from  the 
effigy,  and  Mahomet  gained  strength.  At  the  end  of  the 
eleventh  verse  he  rose,  renovated  in  health  and  vigor,  as  one 
restored  to  freedom  after  having  been  bound  with  cords. 

The  two  final  chapters  of  the  Koran,  which  comprise  th^se 
verses,  are  entitled  the  amulets,  and  considered  by  the  super- 


130  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

Btitious  Moslems  effectual  talismans  against  sorcery  and  magic 

charms. 

The  conduct  of  Mahomet  in  the  affair  narrated  in  this  chap- 
ter has  been  censured  as  weak  and  vacillating,  and  deficient  in 
military  decision,  and  his  measures  as  wanting  in  true  great- 
ness of  mind,  and  the  following  circumstances  are  adduced  to 
support  these  charges.  When  threatened  with  violence  from 
without,  and  perfidy  from  within,  he  is  for  bribing  a  part  of 
his  confederate  foes  to  a  separate  peace ;  but  suffers  himself  to 
be,  in  a  manner,  hectored  out  of  this  crafty  policy  by  Saad  Ibn 
Moad;  yet,  subsequently,  he  resorts  to  a  scheme  still  more 
subtle  and  crafty,  by  which  he  sows  dissension  among  his 
enemies.  Above  all,  his  conduct  toward  the  Jews  has  been 
strongly  reprobated.  His  referring  the  appeal  of  the  Beni 
Koraida  for  mercy,  to  the  decision  of  one  whom  he  knew  to 
be  bent  on  their  destruction,  has  been  stigmatized  as  cruel 
mockery ;  and  the  massacre  of  those  unfortunate  men  in  the 
market-place  of  Medina  is  pronounced  one  of  the  darkest  pages 
of  his  history.  In  fact,  his  conduct  toward  this  race  from  the 
time  that  he  had  power  in  his  hands  forms  an  exception  to  the 
general  tenor  of  bis  disposition,  which  was  forgiving  and 
humane.  He  may  have  been  especially  provoked  against 
them  by  proofs  of  treachery  and  deadly  rancor  on  their  part ; 
but  we  see  in  this,  as  in  other  parts  of  his  policy  in  this  part  of 
his  career,  instances  of  that  worldly  alloy  which  at  times  was 
debasing  his  spirit,  now  that  he  had  become  the  Apostle  of  the 
Sword. 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 


MAHOMET  UNDERTAKES  A  PILGRIMAGE  TO  MECCA— EVADES  KIIA- 
LED  AND  A  TROOP  OF  HORSE  SENT  AGAINST  HIM— ENCAMPS 
NEAR  MECCA— NEGOTIATES  WITH  THE  KOREISHITES  FOR  PER- 
MISSION TO  ENTER  AND  COMPLETE  HIS  PILGRIMAGE— TREATY 
FOR  TEN  YEARS,  BY  WHICH  HE  IS  PERMITTED  TO  MAKE  A 
YEARLY  VISIT  OF  THREE  DAYS — HE  RETURNS  TO  MEDINA. 

Six  years  had  now  elapsed  since  the  flight  of  Mahomet  from 
Mecca.  As  that,  city  was  sacred  in  the  eyes  of  the  Arabs  and 
their  great  point  of  pilgrimage,  his  long  exile  from  it,  and  his 
open  warfare  with  the  Koreishites,   who  had  charge  of  the 


MMIOVKT  ANB  niS  SUCCESSORS.  121 

Caaba,  prejudiced  him  in  the  opinion  of  many  of  the  tribes, 
and  retarded  the  spread  of  his  doctrines.  His  followers,  too, 
who  had  accompanied  him  in  his  flight,  languished  once  more 
to  see  their  native  home,  and  there  was  danger  of  their  faith 
becoming  enfeebled  under  a  protracted  exile. 

Mahomet  felt  more  and  more  the  importance  of  linking  the 
sacred  city  with  his  religion,  and  maintaining  the  ancient 
usages  of  his  race.  Besides,  he  claimed  but  to  be  a  reformer, 
anxious  to  restore  the  simplicity  and  purity  of  the  patriarchal 
faith.  The  month  Doul  Kaada  was  at  hand,  the  month  of  pil- 
grimage, when  there  was  a  truce  to  warfare,  and  enemies 
might  meet  in  peace  within  the  holy  boundaries.  A  timely 
vision  assured  Mahomet  that  he  and  his  followers  might  safely 
avail  themselves  of  the  protection  of  this  venerable  custom  to 
revisit  the  ancient  shrines  of  Arabian  worship.  The  revelation 
was  joyfully  received  by  his  followers,  and  in  the  holy  month 
he  set  forth  for  Medina  on  his  pilgrimage,  at  the  head  of  four- 
teen hundred  men,  partly  Mohadjerms  or  Fugitives,  and 
partly  Ansarians  or  Auxiliaries.  They  took  with  them 
seventy  camels  to  be  slam  in  sacrifice  at  the  Caaba.  To 
manifest  publicly  that  they  came  in  peace  and  not  in  war, 
they  halted  at  Dsu  Huleifa,  a  village  about  a  day's  journey 
from  Medina,  where  they  laid  aside  all  their  weapons,  except- 
ing their  sheathed  swords,  and  thence  continued  on  in  pilgrim 
garb. 

In  the  mean  time  a  confused  rumor  of  this  movement  had 
reached  Mecca.  The  Eoreishites,  suspecting  hostilities,  sent 
forth  Khalcd  Ibn  Waled  with  a  powerful  troop  of  horse,  to 
take  post  in  a  valley  about  two  days'  journey  from  Mecca,  and 
check  the  advance  of  the  Moslems. 

Mahomet,  hearing  that  the  main  road  was  thus  barred 
against  him,  took  a  rugged  and  difficult  route  through  the  de- 
files of  the  mountains,  and,  avoiding  Khaled  and  his  forces, 
descended  into  the  plain  near  Mecca,  where  he  encamped  at 
Hodeiba,  within  the  sacred  boundaries.  Hence  he  sent  assur- 
ances to  the  Koreishites  cf  his  peaceable  intentions,  and  claimed 
the  immunities  and  rights  of  pilgrimage. 

Envoys  from  the  Koreishites  visited  his  camp  to  make  ob- 
servations. They  were  struck  with  the  reverence  with  which 
he  was  regarded  by  his  followers.  The  water  with  which  he  per- 
formed his  ablutions  became  sanctified ;  a  hair  falling  from  his 
head,  or  the  paring  of  a  nail,  Avas  caught  up  as  a  precious  relic. 
One  of  the  envoys  in  the  course  of  conversation,  unconsciously 


132  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

touched  the  flowing  heard  of  the  prophet ;  he  was  thrust  hack 
by  the  disciples,  and  warned  of  the  impiety  of  the  act.  In 
making  his  report  to  the  Koreishites  on  his  return,  "I  have 
seen  the  king  of  Persia  and  the  emperor  of  Constantinople 
surrounded  by  their  courts,"  said  he,  "  but  never  did  I  behold 
a  sovereign  so  revered  by  his  subjects,  as  is  Mahomet  by  his 
followers." 

The  Koreishites  were  the  more  loath  to  admit  into  their  city 
an  adversary  to  their  sect,  so  formidable  in  his  influence  over 
the  minds  and  affections  of  his  fellow-men.  Mahomet  sent  re- 
peated missions  to  treat  for  a  safe  access  to  the  sacred  shrines, 
but  in  vain.  Othman  Ibn  Affan,  his  son-in-law,  was  his  last 
envoy.  Several  days  elapsed  without  his  return,  and  it  was 
rumored  that  he  was  slain.  Mahomet  determined  to  revenge 
his  fall.  Standing  under  a  tree,  and  summoning  his  people 
around  him,  he  exacted  an  oath  to  defend  him  even  to  the  death. 
and  never  to  desert  the  standard  of  the  faith.  This  ceremony 
is  known  among  Mahometans  by  the  name  of  the  Spontaneous 
Inauguration. 

The  reappearance  of  Othman  in  the  camp  restored  tranquil- 
lity. He  was  accompanied  by  Solhail,  an  ambassador  from  the 
Koreishites,  to  arrange  a  treaty  of  peace.  They  perceived  the 
impolicy  of  warring  with  a  man  whose  power  was  incessantly 
increasing,  and  who  was  obeyed  with  such  fanatic  devotion. 
The  treaty  proposed  was  for  ten  years,  during  which  time  Ma- 
homet and  his  adherents  were  to  have  free  access  to  Mecca  as 
pilgrims,  there  to  remain,  three  days  at  a  time,  in  the  exercise 
of  their  religious  rites.  The  terms  were  readily  accepted,  and 
Ali  was  employed  to  draw  up  the  treaty.  Mahomet  dictated 
the  words.  ' '  Write, "  said  he,  ' '  these  are  the  conditions  of  peace 
made  by  Mahomet  the  apostle  of  God."  "  Hold !"  cried  SolhaiJ, 
the  ambassador ;  ' '  had  I  believed  thee  to  be  the  apostle  of  God, 
I  should  never  have  taken  up  arms  against  thee.  Write,  there- 
fore, simply  thy  name,  and  the  name  of  thy  father. "  Mahomet 
was  fain  to  comply,  for  he  felt  he  was  not  sufficiently  in  force 
at  this  moment  to  contend  about  forms;  so  he  merely  denomi- 
nated himself  in  the  treaty,  Mahomet  Ibn  Abdallah  (Mahomet 
the  son  of  Abdallah),  an  abnegation  which  gave  some  little 
scandal  to  his  followers.  Their  discontent  was  increased  when 
he  ordered  them  to  shave  their  heads,  and  to  sacrifice  on  the 
spot  the  camels  brought  to  be  offered  up  at  the  Caaba,  as  it 
showed  he  had  not  the  intention  of  entering  Mecca,  these  rites 
being  properly  done  at  the  conclusion  of  the  ceremonials  of 


MAHOMET  AND   HIS  SUCCESSORS.  jgg 

pilgrimage.  They  reminded  him  of  his  vision  which  promised 
a  safe  entrance  of  the  sacred  city;  he  replied,  that  the  present 
treaty  was  an  earnest  of  its  fulfilment,  which  would  assuredly 
take  place  on  the  following  year.  With  this  explanation  they 
had  to  content  themselves;  and  having  performed  the  cere- 
mony, and  made  the  sacrifice  prescribed,  the  camp  was  broken 
up,  and  the  pilgrim  host  returned,  somewhat  disappointed  and 
dejected,  to  Medina. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

EXPEDITION  AGAINST  THE  CITY  OF  KHAIBAR;  SIEGE— EXPLOITS 
OF  MAHOMET'S  CAPTAINS— BATTLE  OF  ALI  AND  MARHAB — STORM- 
ING OF  THE  CITADEL— ALI  MAKES  A  BUCKLER  OF  THE  GATE  — 
CAPTURE  OF  THE  PLACE— MAHOMET  POISONED;  HE  MARRIES 
SAFIYA,    A  CAPTIVE ;   ALSO   OMM  HABIBA,  A  WIDOW. 

To  console  his  followers  for  the  check  their  religious  devotion 
had  experienced  at  Mecca,  Mahomet  now  set  on  foot  an  expe- 
dition calculated  to  gratify  that  love  of  plunder,  which  began 
to  rival  fanaticism  in  attaching  them  to  his  standard. 

About  five  days'  journey  to  the  northeast  of  Medina  was  situ- 
ated the  city  of  Khaibar,  and  its  dependent  territory.  It  was 
inhabited  by  Jews,  who  had  grown  wealthy  by  commerce  as 
well  as  agriculture.  Their  rich  domain  was  partly  cultivated 
with  grain,  and  planted  with  groves  of  palm-trees ;  partly  de- 
voted to  pasturage  and  covered  with  flocks  and  herds ;  and  it 
was  fortified  by  several  castles.  So  venerable  was  its  antiquity 
that  Abulfeda,  the  Arabian  historian,  assures  us  that  Moses, 
after  the  passage  of  the  Red  Sea,  sent  an  army  against  the 
Amalekites,  inhabiting  Gothreb  (Medina),  and  the  strong  city 
of  Khaibar. 

This  region  had  become  a  place  of  refuge  for  the  hostile  Jews, 
driven  by  Mahomet  from  Medina  and  its  environs,  and  for  all 
c"iose  who  had  made  themselves  obnoxious  to  his  vengeance. 
These  circumstances,  together  with  its  teeming  wealth,  pointed 
it  out  as  a  fit  and  ripe  object  for  that  warfare  which  he  had 
declared  against  all  enemies  of  the  faith. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  seventh  year  of  the  Hegira,  he  de- 
parted on  an  expedition  against  Khaibar,  at  the  head  of  twelve 
hundred  foot  and  two  hundred  horse,  accompanied  by  Abu 


134  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS 

Beker,  by  Ali,  by  Omar,  and  other  of  bis  principal  officers.  He 
bad  two  standards ;  one  represented  tbe  sun,  the  other  a  black 
eagle ;  which  last  became  famous  in  after  years  as' the  standard 
of  Khaled. 

Entering  the  fertile  territory  of  Kha'ibar,  he  began  his  war- 
fare by  assailing  the  inferior  castles  with  which  it  was  studded. 
Some  of  these  capitulated  without  making  resistance ;  in  which 
cases,  bemg  considered  "gifts  from  God,"  the  spoils  went  to 
the  prophet,  to  be  disposed  of  by  him  in  the  way  before  men- 
tioned. Others  of  more  strength,  and  garrisoned  by  stouter 
hearts,  had  to  be  taken  by  storm. 

After  the  capture  of  these  minor  fortresses,  Mahomet  ad- 
vanced against  the  city  of  Kha'ibar.  It  was  strongly  defended 
by  outworks,  and  its  citadel,  Al  Kamus,  built  on  a  steep  rock, 
was  deemed  impregnable,  insomuch  that  Kenana  Ibn  al  Rabi, 
the  chief  or  king  of  the  nation,  had  made  it  the  depository  of 
all  his  treasures. 

The  siege  of  this  city  was  the  most  important  enterprise  the 
Moslems  had  yet  undertaken.  When  Mahomet  first  came  in 
sight  of  its  strong  and  frowning  walls,  and  its  rock-built  cita- 
del, he  is  said  to  have  put  up  the  following  prayer : 

' '  Oh  Allah !  Lord  of  the  seven  heavens,  and  of  all  things 
which  they  cover!  Lord  of  the  seven  earths,  and  all  which 
they  sustain !  Lord  of  the  evil  spirits,  and  of  all  whom  they 
lead  astray !  Lord  of  the  winds,  and  of  all  whom  they  scatter 
and  disperse!  We  supplicate  thee  to  deliver  into  our  hands 
this  city,  and  all  that  it  contains,  and  the  riches  of  all  its  lands. 
To  thee  we  look  for  aid  against  this  people,  and  against  all  the 
perils  by  which  we  are  environed." 

To  give  more  solemnity  to  his  prayers,  he  chose  as  bis  place 
of  worship  a  great  rock,  in  a  stony  place  called  Mansela,  and, 
during  all  the  time  that  he  remained  encamped  before  Khaibar, 
made  daily  seven  circuits  round  it,  as  are  made  round  the 
Caaba.  A  mosque  was  erected  on  this  rock  in  after  times  in 
memorial  of  this  devout  ceremonial,  and  it  became  an  object  of 
veneration  to  all  pious  Moslems. 

The  siege  of  the  citadel  lasted  for  some  time,  and  tasked  the 
skill  and  patience  of  Mahomet  and  his  troops,  as  yet  but  little 
practised  in  the  attack  of  fortified  places.  They  suffered  too 
from  want  of  provisions,  for  the  Arabs  in  their  hasty  expedi- 
tions seldom  burden  themselves  with  supplies,  and  the  Jews  on 
their  approach  had  laid  waste  tbe  level  country,  and  destroyed 
the  palm-trees  round  their  capital. 


MAHOMET  AND  Ills  SUCCESSORS.  [35 

Mahomet  directed  the  attacks  in  person ;  the  besiegers  pro- 
tected themselves  by  trenches,  and  brought  battering-rams  to 
play  upon  the  walls ;  a  breach  was  at  length  effected,  but  for 
several  days  every  attempt  to  enter  was  vigorously  repelled. 
Abu  Beker  at  one  time  led  the  assault,  bearing  the  standard  of 
the  prophet ;  but,  after  fighting  with  great  bravery,  was  com- 
pelled to  retreat.  The  next  attack  was  headed  by  Omar  Ibn 
Khattab,  who  fought  until  the  close  of  day  with  no  better 
success.  A  third  attack  was  led  by  Ah,  whom  Mahomet  armed 
with  his  own  scimetar,  called  Dhu'l-Fakar,  or  the  Trenchant. 
On  confiding  to  his  hands  the  sacred  banner,  he  pronounced 
him  "  a  man  who  loved  God  and  his  prophet;  and  whom  God 
and  his  prophet  loved.  A  man  who  knew  not  fear,  nor  ever 
turned  his  back  upon  a  foe." 

And  here  it  may  be  well  to  give  a  traditional  account  of  the 
person  and  character  of  Ali.  He  was  of  the  middle  height,  but 
robust  and  square,  and  of  prodigious  strength.  He  had  a 
smiling  countenance,  exceedingly  florid,  with  a  bushy  beard. 
He  was  distinguished  for  an  amiable  disposition,  sagacious 
intellect,  and  religious  zeal,  and,  from  his  undaunted  courage, 
was  surnarned  the  Lion  of  God. 

Arabian  writers  dwell  with  fond  exaggeration  on  the  exploits 
at  Khaibar  of  this  their  favorite  hero.  He  was  clad,  they  say, 
in  a  scarlet  vest,  over  which  was  buckled  a  cuirass  of  steel. 
Scrambling  with  his  followers  up  the  great  heap  of  stones  and 
rubbish  in  front  of  the  breach,  he  planted  his  standard  on  the 
top,  determined  never  to  recede  until  the  citadel  was  taken. 
The  Jews  sallied  forth  to  drive  down  the  assailants.  In  the 
conflict  which  ensued,  Ali  fought  hand  to  hand  with  the  Jew- 
ish commander,  Al  Hareth,  whom  he  slew.  The  brother  of 
the  slain  advanced  to  revenge  his  death.  He  was  of  gigantic 
stature,  with  a  double  cuirass,  a  double  turban,  wound  round 
a  helmet  of  proof,  in  front  of  which  sparkled  an  immense  dia- 
mond. He  had  a  sword  girt  to  each  side,  and  brandished  a 
three-pronged  spear,  like  a  trident.  The  warriors  measured 
each  other  with  the  eye,  and  accosted  each  other  in  boasting 
oriental  style. 

"I."  said  the  Jew,  "am  Marhab,  armed  at  all  points,  and 
terrible  in  battle." 

"And  I  am  Ali,  whom  his  mother,  at  his  birth,  surnarned 
Al  Haidara  (the  rugged  lion)." 

The  Moslem  writers  make  short  work  of  the  Jewish  cham- 
pion.    He  made  a  thrust  at  Ali  with  his  three-pronged  lance, 


136  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

but  it  was  dexterously  parried,  and  before  be  could  recover 
himself,  a  blow  from  the  scimetar  Dhu'l-Fakar  divided  his 
buckler,  passed  through  the  helm  of  proof,  through  doubled 
turban  and  stubborn  skull,  cleaving  Ins  head  even  to  his  teeth. 
His  gigantic  form  fell  lifeless  to  the  earth. 

The  Jews  now  retreated  into  the  citadel,  and  a  general  as- 
sault took  place.  In  the  heat  of  the  action  the  shield  of  Ali 
was  severed  from  his  arm,  leaving  his  body  exposed ;  wrench- 
ing a  gate,  however,  from  its  hinges,  he  used  it  as  a  buckler 
through  the  remainder  of  the  fight.  Abu  Eafe,  a  servant  of 
Mahomet,  testifies  to  the  fact.  "I  afterward,"  says  he,  "ex- 
amined this  gate  in  company  with  seven  men,  and  all  eight  of 
us  attempted  in  vain  to  wield  it."* 

The  citadel  being  captured,  every  vault  and  dungeon  was 
ransacked  for  the  wealth  said  to  be  deposited  there  by  Kenana, 
the  Jewish  prince.  None  being  discovered,  Mahomet  de- 
manded of  him  where  he  had  concealed  his  treasure.  He 
declared  that  it  had  all  been  expended  in  the  subsistence  of  his 
troops,  and  in  preparations  for  defence.  One  of  his  faithless 
subjects,  however,  revealed  the  place  where  a  great  amount 
had  been  hidden.  It  did  not  equal  the  expectations  of  the 
victors,  and  Kenana  was  put  to  the  torture  to  reveal  the  rest 
of  his  supposed  wealth.  He  either  could  not  or  would  not 
make  further  discoveries,  so  he  was  delivered  up  to  the  ven- 
geance of  a  Moslem,  whose  brother  he  had  crushed  to  death 
by  a  piece  of  millstone  hurled  from  the  wall,  and  who  struck 
off  his  head  with  a  single  blow  of  his  sabre. t 

While  in  the  citadel  of  Khaibar,  Mahomet  came  near  falling 
a  victim  to  Jewish  vengeance.  Demanding  something  to  eat, 
a  shoulder  of  lamb  was  set  before  him.  At  the  first  mouthful 
he  perceived  something  unusual  in  the  taste,  and  spat  it  forth, 
but  instantly  felt  acute  internal  pain.  One  of  his  followers, 
named  Baschar,  who  had  eaten  more  freely,  fell  down  and  ex- 
pired in  convulsions.  All  now  was  confusion  and  consterna- 
tion :  on  diligent  inquiry,  it  was  found  that  the  lamb  had  been 


*  This  stupendous  feat  is  recorded  by  the  historian  Abulleda,  c.  24.  "  Abu  Rafe." 
observes  Gibbon,  '•  was  an  eye-witness;  but  \vho_will  be  witness  for  Abu  Rafe?" 
We  join  with  the  distinguished  historian  in  his  doubt;  yet  if  we  scrupulously  ques- 
tion the  testimony  of  an  eye  witness,  what  will  become  of  history? 

t  The  Jews  inhabiting  the  tract  of  country  called  Khaibar  are  still  known  in 
Arabia  by  the  name  of  Beni  Kheibar,  They  are  divided  into  three  tribes,  under- 
independent  Sheikhs,  the  Beni  Messiad,  Beni  Schahan,  and  Beni  Anaesse.  They 
are  accused  of  pillaging  the  caravans.— Kiebuhr,  v.  ii.  p.  43. 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  137 

cooked  by  Zai'nab,  a  female  captive,  niece  to  Marhab,  tho 
gigantic  warrior  slain  by  Ali.  Being  brought  before  Mahomet, 
and  charged  with  having  infused  poison  into  the  viand,  she 
boldly  avowed  it,  vindicating  it  as  a  justifiable  revenge  for 
the  ills  he  had  brought  upon  her  tribe  and  her  family.  "I 
thought,"  said  she,  "if  thou  wert  indeed  a  prophet,  thou 
wouldst  discover  thy  danger;  if  but  a  chieftain,  thou  wouldst 
fall,  and  we  should  be  delivered  from  a  tyrant." 

Arabian  writers  are  divided  as  to  the  fate  of  this  heroine 
According  to  some,  she  was  delivered  up  to  the  vengeance  of 
the  relatives  of  Baschar,  who  had  died  of  the  poison.  Accord- 
ing to  others,  her  beauty  pleaded  in  her  behalf,  and  Mahomet 
restored  her  unharmed  to  her  family.   . 

The  same  writers  seldom  permit  any  remarkable  event  of 
Mahomet's  life  to  pass  without  a  miracle.  In  tho  present 
instance,  they  assure  us  that  the  poisoned  shoulder  of  lamb  be- 
came miraculously  gifted  with  speech,  and  warned  Mahomet 
of  his  danger.  If  so,  it  was  rather  slow  of  speech,  for  he  had 
imbibed  sufficient  poison  to  injure  his  constitution  throughout 
the  remainder  of  his  life,  affecting  him  often  with  paroxysms 
of  pain ;  and  in  his  last  moments  he  complained  that  the  veins 
of  his  heart  throbbed  with  the  poison  of  Khaibar.  He  experi- 
enced kinder  treatment  at  the  hands  of  Safiya  (or  Sophia), 
another  female  captive,  who  had  still  greater  motives  for  ven- 
geance than  Zainab ;  for  she  was  the  recently  espoused  wife  of 
Kenana,  who  had  just  been  sacrificed  for  his  wealth,  and  she 
was  the  daughter  of  Hoya  Ibn  Akhtab,  prince  of  the  Beni 
Koraida,  who,  Avith  seven  hundred  of  his  people,  had  been  put 
to  death  in  the  square  of  Medina,  as  has  been  related. 

This  Safiya  was  of  great  beauty ;  it  is  not  surprising,  there 
fore,  that  she  should  find  instant  favor  in  the  eyes  of  Mahomet, 
and  that  he  should  seek,  as  usual,  to  add  her  to  his  harem ;  but 
it  may  occasion  surprise  that  she  should  contemplate  such  a  lot 
with  complacency.  Moslem  writers,  however,  explain  this  by 
assuring  us  that  she  was  supernaturally  prepared  for  the  event. 

While  Mahomet  was  yet  encamped  before  the  city,  and  carry- 
ing on  the  siege,  she  had  a  vision  of  the  night,  in  which  the  sun 
descended  from  the  firmament  and  nestled  in  her  bosom.  On 
recounting  her  dream  to  her  husband  Kenana  in  the  morning, 
he  smote  her  011  the  face,  exclaiming,  "Woman,  you  speak  in 
parables  of  this  Arab  chief  who  has  come  against  us. " 

The  vision  of  Safiya  was  made  true,  for  having  converted  her 
with  all  decent  haste  to  the  faith  of  Islam,  Mahomet  took  her 


138  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

to  wife  before  he  left  Khai'bar.  Their  nuptials  took  place  on 
the  homeward  march,  at  Al  Sahba,  where  the  army  halted  for 
three  days.  Abu  Ayub,  one  of  the  prophet's  most  ardent  dis- 
ciples and  marshal  of  his  household,  patrolled  around  the  nup- 
tial tent  throughout  the  night,  sword  in  hand.  Safiya  was 
one  of  the  most  favored  wives  of  Mahomet,  whom  she  survived 
for  forty  years  of  widowhood. 

Besides  the  marriages  of  affection  which  we  have  recorded, 
the  prophet,  about  this  time,  made  another  of  policy.  Shortly 
after  his  return  to  Medina  he  was  gladdened  by  the  arrival, 
from  Abyssinia,  of  the  residue  of  the  fugitives.  Among  these 
was  a  comely  Avidow,  thirty  years  of  age,  whose  husband,  Ab- 
dallah,  had  died  while  in  exile.  She  was  generally  known  by 
the  name  of  Omm  Habiba,  the  mother  of  Habiba,  from  a 
daughter  to  whom  she  had  given  birth.  This  widow  was  the 
daughter  of  Mahomet's  arch  enemy,  Abu  Sofian;  and  the 
prophet  conceived  that  a  marriage  with  the  daughter  might 
soften  the  hostility  of  the  father;  a  politic  consideration, 
which  is  said  to  have  been  either  suggested  or  sanctioned  by  a 
revelation  of  a  chapter  of  the  Koran. 

When  Abu  Sofian  heard  of  the  espousals,  "By  heaven,"  ex- 
claimed he,  ' '  this  camel  is  so  rampant  that  no  muzzle  can 
restrain  him." 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 


MISSIONS  TO    VARIOUS  PRINCES ;    TO  HERACLIUS ;    TO  KH0SRU  II. ; 
TO  THE  PREFECT  OF  EOYPT— THEIR  RESULT. 

During  the  residue  of  the  year  Mahomet  remained  at 
Medina,  sending  forth  his  trusty  disciples,  by  this  time  experi- 
enced captains,  on  various  military  expeditions;  by  which 
refractory  tribes  were  rapidly  brought  into  subjection.  His 
views  as  a  statesman  widened  as  his  territories  increased. 
Though  he  professed,  in  cases  of  necessity,  to  propagate  his 
religion  by  the  sword,  he  was  not  neglectful  of  the  peaceful 
measures  of  diplomacy,  and  sent  eiiyoys  to  various  princes 
and  potentates,  whose  dominions  bordered  on  his  political 
horizon,  urging  them  to  embrace  the  faith  of  Islam ;  which  was, 
in  effect,  to  acknowledge  him,  through  his  apostolic  office, 
their  superior. 


MAHOMET  ASD   TILS  SUCCESSORS.  139 

Two  of  the  most  noted  of  these  missions  were  to  Khosrn  II., 
king  of  Persia,  and  Heraclius,  the  Roman  emperor,  at  Constan- 
tinople. The  wars  between  the  Romans  and  the  Persians,  for 
the  dominion  of  the  East,  which  had  prevailed  from  time  to 
time  through  several  centuries,  had  been  revived  by  these  two 
potentates  with  varying  fortunes,  and  for  several  years  past 
had  distracted  the  eastern  world.  Countries  had  been  overrun 
by  either  power;  states  and  kingdoms  had  changed  hands 
under  alternate  invasions,  and  according  to  the  conquests  and 
defeats  of  the  warring  parties.  At  one  time  Khosru  with  three 
armies,  one  vauntingly  called  the  Fifty  Thousand  Golden 
Spears,  had  wrested  Palestine,  Cappadoeia,  Armenia,  and 
several  other  great  and  wealthy  provinces  from  the  Roman 
emperor;  had  made  himself  master  of  Jerusalem,  and  carried 
off  the  Holy  Cross  to  Persia ;  had  invaded  Africa,  conquered 
Libya  and  Egypt,  and  extended  his  victories  even  to  Carthage. 

In  the  midst  of  his  triumphant  career,  a  Moslem  envoy 
arrived  bearing  him  a  letter  from  Mahomet.  Khosru  sent  for 
his  secretary  or  interpreter,  and  ordered  him  to  read  it.  The 
tetter  began  as  follows: 

"In  the  name  of  the  most  merciful  God!  Mahomet,  son  of 
Abdallah,  and  apostle  of  God,  to  Khosru,  king  of  Persia, " 

"What!"  cried  Khosru,  starting  up  in  haughty  indignation, 
"does  one  who  is  my  slave  dare  to  put  his  name  first  in  writ- 
ing to  me?"  So  saying-,  he  seized  the  letter  and  tore  it  in  pieces 
without  seeking  to  know  its  contents.  He  then  wrote  to  his 
viceroy  in  Yemen,  saying,  "I  am  told  there  is  in  Medina  a 
madman,  of  the  tribe  of  Koreish,  who  pretends  to  be  a  prophet. 
Restore  him  to  his  senses ;  or  if  you  cannot,  send  me  his  head." 

When  Mahomet  was  told  how  Khosru  had  torn  his  letter, 
" Even  so,"  said  he,  "shall  Allah  rend  his  empire  in  pieces." 

The  letter  from  the  prophet  to  Heraclius  was  more  favorably 
received,  reaching  him  probably  during  his  reverses.  It  was 
signed  in  characters  of  silver,  Mahomet  Azzarel,  Mahomet  the 
messenger  of  God,  and  invited  the  emperor  to  renounce  Chris- 
tianity, and  embrace  the  faith  of  Islam.  Heraclius,  we  are 
told,  deposited  the  epistle  respectfully  upon  his  pillow,  treated 
the  envoy  with  distinction,  and  dismissed  him  with  magnifi- 
cent presents.  Engrossed,  however,  by  his  Persian  wars,  he 
paid  no  further  attention  to  this  mission,  from  one  whom  he 
probably  considered  a  mere  Arab  fanatic ;  nor  attached  suffi- 
cient importance  to  his  military  operations,  which  may  have 
appeared  mere  predatory  forays  of  the  wild  tribes  of  the  desert, 


140  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

Another  mission  of  Mahomet  was  to  the  Mukowkis,  or 
governor  of  Egypt,  who  had  originally  been  sent  there  by 
Heraclius  to  collect  tribute ;  but  who,  availing  himself  of  the 
confusion  produced  by  the  wars  between  the  Romans  and  Per- 
sians, had  assumed  sovereign  power,  and  nearly  thrown  off  all 
allegiance  to  the  emperor.  He  received  the  envoy  with  signal 
honor,  but  evaded  a  direct  reply  to  the  invitation  to  embrace 
the  faith,  observing  that  it  was  a  grave  matter  requiring  much 
consideration.  In  the  mean  time  he  sent  presents  to  Mahomet 
of  precious  jewels;  garments  of  Egyptian  linen;  exquisite 
honey  and  butter ;  a  white  she-ass,  called  Yaf  ur ;  a  white  mule, 
called  Daldal,  and  a  fleet  horse  called  Lazlos,  or  the  Prancer. 
The  most  acceptable  "of  his  presents,  however,  were  two  Coptic 
damsels,  sisters,  called  Mariyah  (or  Mary),  and  Shiren. 

The  beauty  of  Mariyah  caused  great  perturbation  in  the 
mind  of  the  prophet.  He  would  fain  have  made  her  his  con- 
cubine, but  was  impeded  by  his  own  law  in  the  seventeenth 
chapter  of  the  Koran,  ordaining  that  fornication  should  be 
punished  with  stripes. 

He  was  relieved  from  his  dilemma  by  another  revelation 
revoking  the  law  in  regard  to  himself  alone,  allowing  him 
intercourse  with  his  handmaid.  It  remained  in  full  force, 
however,  against  all  other  Moslems.  Still,  to  avoid  scandal, 
and  above  all,  not  to  excite  the  jealousy  of  hiswives,  he  carried 
on  his  intercourse  with  the  beautiful  Mariyah  in  secret ;  which 
may  be  one  reason  why  she  remained  long  a  favorite. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

MAHOMET'S    PILGRIMAGE  TO  MECCA;    HIS    MARRIAGE  WITH  MAIM- 
A — KHALED  IBN  AL  WALED  AND  AMRU  IBN  AL  A  ASS  BECOME 

! -IIOSELYTES. 

The  time  had  now  arrived  when,  by  treaty  with  the  Koreish- 
ites,  Mahomet  and  his  followers  were  permitted  to  make  a 
pilgrimage  to  Mecca,  and  pass  three  days  unmolested  at  the 
sacred  shrines.  He  departed  accordingly  with  a  numerous  and 
well-armed  host,  and  seventy  camels  for  sacrifices.  His  old 
adversaries  would  fain  have  impeded  his  progress,  but  they 
were  overawed,  and  on  his  approach  withdrew  silently  to  the 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  141 

neighboring  hills.  On  entering  the  bounds  of  Mecca,  the 
pilgrims,  according  to  compact  and  usage,  laid  aside  all  their 
warlike  accoutrements  excepting  their  swords,  which  they 
carried  sheathed. 

Great  was  their  joy  on  beholding  once  more  the  walls  and 
towers  of  the  sacred  city.  They  entered  the  gates  in  pilgrim 
garb,  with  devout  and  thankful  hearts,  and  Mahomet  per- 
formed all  the  ancient  and  customary  rites,  with  a  zeal  and 
devotion  which  gratified  beholders,  and  drew  to  him  many 
converts.  When  he  had  complied  with  all  the  ceremonials  he 
threw  aside  the  Irani  or  pilgrim's  garb,  and  withdrew  to  Sarif, 
a  hamlet  two  leagues  distant,  and  without  the  sacred  bounda- 
ries. Here  he  had  a  ceremonial  of  a  different  kind  to  perform, 
but  one  in  which  he  was  prone  to  act  with  unfeigned  devotion. 
It  was  to  complete  his  marriage  with  Maim  una,  the  daughter 
of  Al  Hareth,  the  Helalite.  He  had  become  betrothed  to  her 
on  his  arrival  at  Mecca,  but  had  postponed  the  nuptials  untd 
after  he  had  concluded  the  rites  of  pilgrimage.  This  was 
doubtless  another  marriage  of  policy,  for  Maimuna  was  fifty- 
one  years  of  age,  and  a  widow,  but  the  connection  gained  him 
two  powerful  proselytes.  One  was  Khalei  Ibn  al  Waled,  a 
nephew  of  the  widow,  an  intrepid  warrior  Avho  had  come  near 
destroying  Mahomet  at  the  battle  of  Ohod.  He  now  became 
one  of  the  most  victorious  champions  of  Islamism,  and  by  his 
prowess  obtained  the  appellation  of  "  The  Sword  of  God." 

The  other  proselyte  was  Khaled's  friend  Amru  Ibn  al  Aass, 
the  same  who  assailed  Mahomet  with  poetry  and  satire  at  the 
commencement  of  his  prophetic  career;  who  had  been  an 
ambassador  from  the  Koreishites  to  the  king  of  Abyssinia,  to 
obtain  the  surrender  of  the  fugitive  Moslems,  and  who  was 
henceforth  destined  with  his  sword  to  carry  victoriously  into 
foreign  lands  the  faith  he  had  once  so  strenuously  opposed. 

Note.— Maimuna  was  the  last  spouse  of  the  prophet,  and,  old  as  she  was  at  her 
marriage,  survived  all  his  other  wives.  She  died  many  years  after  him,  in  a  pavi- 
lion at  Serif,  under  the  same  tree  in  th^>  shade  of  which  her  nuptial  tent  had  been 
pitched,  and  was  there  interred.  The  pious  historian,  Al  Jannabi,  who  styles  him- 
self '•  a  poor  servant  of  Allah,  hoping  for  the  pardon  of  his  sins  through  the  mercy 
of  God,"  visited  her  tomb  on  returning  from  a  piltrrimnge  to  Mecca,  in  the  year  of 
the  Hegira%3,  A.n.  1555.  "  I  saw  there."  said  h>\  -'ado::;,-  of  black  mnrble  erected 
in  memory  of  Maimuna,  on  the  very  spot  on  w  Inch  the  apostle  of  God  had  reposed 
with  her.  God  knows  the  truth !  and  also  the  reason  of  Che  I  Jack  color  of  the  stone. 
There  is  a  place  of  ablution,  and  an  oratory ;  but  the  building  has  fallen  to  decay.'' 


142  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

A  MOSLEM    ENVOY  SLAIN  IN   SYRIA— EXPEDITION  TO  AVENGE  HIS 
DEATH — BATTLE   OF  MUTA— ITS  RESULTS. 

Among  the  different  missions  which  had  been  sent  by 
Mahomet  beyond  the  bounds  of  Arabia  to  invite  neighboring 
princes  to  embrace  his  religion,  was  one  to  the  governor  of 
J3osra,  the  great  mart  on  the  confines  of  Syria,  to  which  he  had 
made  his  first  caravan  journey  in  the  days  of  his  youth. 
Syria  had  been  alternately  under  Roman  and  Persian  domina- 
tion, but  was  at  that  time  subject  to  the  emperor,  though  prob- 
ably in  a  great  state  of  confusion.  The  envoy  of  Mahomet  was 
slain  at  Muta,  a  town  about  three  days'  journey  eastward  from 
Jerusalem.  The  one  who  slew  him  was  an  Arab  of  the  Chris- 
tian tribe  of  Gassan,  and  son  to  Shorhail,  an  emir,  who  gov- 
erned Muta  in  the  name  of  Heraclius. 

To  revenge  the  death  of  his  legate,  and  to  insure  respect  to 
his  envoys  in  future,  Mahomet  prepared  to  send  an  army  of 
three  thousand  men  against  the  offending  city.  It  was  a  mo- 
mentous expedition,  as  it  might,  for  the  first  time,  bring  the 
arms  of  Islam  in  collision  with  those  of  the  Roman  Empire ; 
but  Mahomet  presumed  upon  his  growing  power,  the  energy  of 
his  troops,  and  the  disordered  state  of  Syrian  affairs.  The 
command  was  intrusted  to  his  freedman  Zeid,  who  had  given 
such  signal  proof  of  devotion  in  surrendering  to  him  his 
beautiful  wife  Zeinab.  Several  chosen  officers  were  associated 
with  him.  One  was  Mahomet's  cousin  Jaafai,  son  of  Abu 
Taleb,  and  brother  of  Ali,  fche  same  who,  by  his  eloquence,  had 
vindicated  the  doctrines  of  Islam  before  the  king  of  Abyssinia, 
and  defeated  the  Koreish  embassy.  He  was  now  in  the  prime 
of  life,  and  noted  for  great  courage  and  manly  beauty.  An- 
other  of  the  associate  officers  was  Abdallah  Ibn  Eawaha,  the 
poet,  but  who  had  signalized  himself  in  arms  as  well  as  poetry. 
A  third  was  the  new  proselyte  Ehaled,  who  joined  the  expedi- 
tion as  a  volunteer,  being  eager  to  prove  by  Ms  swoj'd  the 
sincerity  of  his  conversion. 

The  orders  to  Zeid  were  to  march  rapidlv,  so  as  to  come  upon 
Muta  by  surprise,  to  summon  the  inhabitants  to  embrace  the 
faith,  and  to  treat  them  with  lenity.    Women,  children,  monks. 


MA  HOME!   AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  143 

and  the  blind  were  to  be  spared  at  all  events ;  nor  were  any 
houses  to  be  destroyed,  nor  trees  cut  down. 

The  little  army  sallied  from  Medina  in  the  full  confidence  of 
coming  upon  the  enemy  unawares.  On  their  march,  however, 
they  learned  that  a  greatly  superior  force  of  Romans,  or  rather 
Greeks  and  Arabs,  was  advancing  to  meet  them.  A  council  of 
war  was  called.  Some  were  for  pausing,  and  awaiting  further 
orders  from  Mahomet;  but  Abdallah,  the  poet,  was  for  pushing 
fearlessly  forward  without  regard  to  numbers.  ' '  We  fight  for 
the  faith!"  cried  he;  "if  we  fall,  paradise  is  our  reward.  On, 
then,  to  victory  or  martyrdom!" 

All  caught  a  spark  of  the  poet's  fire,  or  rather,  fanaticism. 
They  met  the  enemy  near  Muta,  and  encountered  them  with 
fury  rather  than  valor.  In  the  heat  of  the  conflict  Zeid  re- 
ceived a  mortal  wound.  The  sacred  banner  was  falling  from 
his  grasp,  but  was  seized  and  borne  aloft  by  Jaafar.  The 
battle  thickened  round  him,  for  the  banner  was  the  object  of 
fierce  contention.  He  defended  it  with  desperate  valor.  The 
hand  by  which  he  held  it  was  struck  off ;  he  grasped  it  with 
the  other.  That,  too,  was  severed;  he  embraced  it  with  his 
bleeding  arms.  A  blow  from  a  scimetar  cleft  his  skull;  he 
sank  dead  upon  the  field,  still  clinging  to  the  standard  of  the 
faith,  Abdallah  the  poet  next  reared  the  banner;  but  he  too 
fell  beneath  the  sword.  Khaled,  the  new  convert,  seeing  the 
three  Moslem  leaders  slain,  now  grasped  the  fatal  standard, 
but  in  his  hand  it  remained  aloft.  His  voice  rallied  the  waver- 
ing Moslems ;  his  powerful  arm  cut  its  way  through  the  thick- 
est of  the  enemy.  If  his  own  account  may  be  credited,  and  he 
was  one  whose  deeds  needed  no  exaggeration,  nine  scimetars 
were  broken  in  his  hand  by  the  fury  of  the  blows  given  by  him 
in  this  deadly  conflict. 

Night  separated  the  combatants.  In  the  morning  Khaled, 
whom  the  army  acknowledged  as  their  commander,  proved 
himself  as  wary  as  he  was  valiant.  By  dint  of  marches  and 
counter-marches  he  presented  his  forces  in  so  many  points  of 
view  that  the  enemy  were  deceived  as  to  his  number,  and  sup- 
posed he  had  received  a  strong  reinforcement.  At  his  first 
charge,  therefore,  they  retreated ;  their  retreat  soon  became  a 
flight,  in  which  they  were  pursued  with  great  slaughter. 
Khaled  then  plundered  their  camp,  in  which  was  found  great 
booty.  Among  the  slain  in  the  field  of  battle  was  found  the 
body  of  Jaafar,  covered  with  wounds,  but  all  in  front.  Out  of 
rpspect  to  hic'valor,  and  to  his  relationship  with  the  prophet, 


144  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSOBS. 

Khaled  ordered  that  his  corpse  should  not  be  buried  on  the 
spot,  but  borne  back  for  honorable  interment  at  Medina. 

The  army,  on  its  return,  though  laden  with  spoil,  entered  the 
city  more  like  a  funeral  train  than  a  triumphant  pageant,  and. 
■was  received  with  mingled  shouts  and  lamentations.  While 
the  people  rejoiced  in  the  success  of  their  arms,  they  mourned 
the  loss  of  three  of  their  favorite  generals.  All  bewailed  the 
fate  of  Jaafar,  brought  home  a  ghastly  corpse  to  that  city 
whence  they  had  so  recently  seen  him  sally  forth  in  all  the 
pride  of  valiant  manhood,  the  admiration  of  every  beholder. 
He  had  left  behind  him  a  beautiful  wife  and  infant  son.  The 
heart  of  Mahomet  was  touched  by  her  affliction.  He  took  the 
orphan  child  in  his  arms  and  bathed  it  with  his  tears.  But 
most  he  was  affected  when  he  beheld  the  young  daughter  of  his 
faithful  Zeid  approaching  him.  He  fell  on  her  neck  and  wept 
in  speechless  emotion.  A  bystander  expressed  surprise  that  he 
should  give  way  to  tears  for  a  death  which,  according  to  Mos- 
lem doctrine,  was  but  a  passport  to  paradise.  "  Alas !"  replied 
the  prophet,  "  these  are  the  tears  of  friendship  for  the  loss  of  a 
friend!" 

The  obsequies  ot  Jaafar  were  performed  on  the  third  day 
after  the  arrival  of  the  army.  By  that  time  Mahomet  had  re- 
covered his  self-possession,  and  was  again  the  prophet.  He 
gently  rebuked  the  passionate  lamentations  of  the  multitude, 
taking  occasion  to  inculcate  one  of  the  most  politic  and  consol- 
atory doctrines  of  his  creed.  "  Weep  no  more,"  said  he,  " over 
the  death  of  this  my  brother.  In  place  of  the  two  hands  lost 
in  defending  the  standard  of  the  faith,  two  wings  have  been 
given  him  to  bear  him  to  paradise ;  there  to  enjoy  the  endless 
delights  insured  to  all  believers  who  fall  in  battle." 

It  was  in  consequence  of  the  prowess  and  generalship  dis- 
played by  Khaled  in  this  perilous  fight  that  he  was  honored  by 
Mahomet  with  the  appellation  of  "The  Sword  of  God,"  by 
which  he  was  afterward  renowned. 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  145 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

DESIGNS  UPON  MECCA — MISSION  OF  ABU  SOFIAN— ITS  RESULT. 

Mahomet,  by  force  either  of  arms  or  eloquence,  had  now  ac- 
quired dominion  over  a  great  number  of  the  Arabian  tribes.  He 
had  many  thousand  warriors  under  his  command ;  sons  of  the 
desert,  inured  to  hunger,  thirst,  and  the  scorching  rays  of  the 
sxm,  and  to  whom  war  was  a  sport  rather  than  a  toil.  He  had 
corrected  their  intemperance,  disciplined  their  valor,  and  sub- 
jected them  to  rule.  Repeated  victories  had  given  them  con- 
fidence in  themselves  and  in  their  leader,  whose  standard  they 
followed  with  the  implicit  obedience  of  soldiers  and  the  blind 
fanaticism  of  disciples. 

The  views  of  Mahomet  expanded  with  his  means,  and  a  grand 
enterprise  now  opened  upon  his  mind.  Mecca,  his  native  city, 
the  abode  of  his  family  for  generations,  the  scene  of  his  hap- 
piest years,  was  still  in  the  hands  of  his  implacable  foes.  The 
Caaba,  the  object  of  devotion  and  pilgrimage  to  all  the  children 
of  Ishmael,  the  shrine  of  his  earliest  worship,  was  still  pro- 
faned by  the  emblems  and  rites  of  idolatry.  To  plant  the 
standard  of  the  faith  on  the  walls  of  his  native  city,  to  rescue 
the  holy  bouse  from  profanation,  restore  it  to  the  spiritual 
worship  of  the  one  true  God,  and  make  it  the  rallying  point  of 
Islamism,  formed  now  the  leading  object  of  his  ambition. 

The  treaty  of  peace  existing  with  the  Koreishites  was  an  im- 
pediment to  any  military  enterprise :  but  some  casual  feuds 
and  skirmishings  soon  gave  a  pretext  for  charging  them  with 
having  violated  the  treaty  stipulations.  The  Koreishites  had 
by  this  time  learned  to  appreciate  and  dread  the  rapidly  in- 
creasing powder  of  the  Moslems,  and  were  eager  to  explain 
away,  or  atone  for,  the  quarrels  and  misdeeds  of  a  few  heed- 
less individuals.  They  even  prevailed  on  their  leader,  Abu 
Sofian,  to  repair  to  Medina  as  ambassador  of  peace,  trusting 
that  he  might  have  some  influence  with  the  prophet  through 
his  daughter  Omm  Habiba. 

It  was  a  sore  trial  to  this  haughty  chief  to  come  almost  a 
suppliant  to  the  man  whom  he  had  scoffed  at  as  an  impostor, 
and  treated  with  inveterate  hostility ;  and  his  proud  spirit  was 
doomed  to  still  farther  mortification,  for  Mahomet,  judging 


146  MAHOMET  AND  BIS  SUCCESSORS. 

from  his  errand  of  the  weakness  of  bis  party,  and  being  se- 
cretly bent  on  war,  vouchsafed  him  no  reply. 

Eepressing  his  rage,  Abu  Sofian  sought  the  intermediation  of 
Abu  Beker,  of  Omar,  and  Ah;  but  they  all  rebuked  and  re- 
pulsed him;  for  they  knew  the  secret  wishes  of  Mahomet. 
He  next  endeavored  to  secure  the  favor  of  Fatima,  the  daugh- 
ter of  Mahomet  and  wife  of  Ah,  by  flattering  a  mother's 
pride,  entreating  her  to. let  her  son  Hasan,  a  child  but  six 
years  old,  be  his  protector;  but  Fatima  answered  haughtily, 
"My  son  is  too  young  to  be  a  protector;  and  no  protection  can 
avail  against  the  will  of  the  prophet  of  God.';  Even  his  daugh- 
ter, Omm  Habiba,  the  wife  of  Mahomet,  on  whom  Abu  Sofian 
had  calculated  for  influence,  added  to  his  mortification,  for  on 
his  offering  to  seat  himself  on  a  mat  in  her  dwelling,  she  has- 
tily folded  it  up,  exclaiming,  "It  is  the  bed  of  the  prophet 
of  God,  and  too  sacred  to  be  made  the  resting-place  of  an 
idolater.'' 

The  cup  of  humiliation  was  full  to  overflowing,  and  in  the 
bitterness  of  his  heart  Abu  Sofian  cursed  his  daughter.  He 
now  turned  again  to  Ali,  beseeching  his  advice  in  the  desperate 
state  of  his  embassy. 

"  I  can  advise  nothing  better."  replied  Ali,  "than  for  thee  to 
promise,  as  the  head  of  the  Koreishites,  a  continuance  of  thy 
protection ;  and  then  to  return  to  thy  home. " 

"But  thinkest  thou  that  promise  will  be  of  any  avail?" 

"I  think  not,*'  replied  Ali  dryly;  "but  I  know  not  to  the 
contrary." 

In  pursuance  of  this  advice,  Abu  Sofian  repaired  to  the 
mosque,  and  made  public  declaration,  in  behalf  of  the  Koreish- 
ites. that  on  their  part  the  treaty  of  peace  should  be  faith- 
fully maintained;  after  which  he  returned  to  Mecca,  deeply 
humiliated  by  the  imperfect  result  of  his  mission.  He  was  re- 
ceived with  scoffs  by  the  Koreishites,  who  observed  that  his 
declaration  of  peace  availed  nothing  without  the  concurrence 
of  Mahomet. 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  '  147 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

SURPRISE  AND  CAPTURE  OF  MECCA. 

Mahomet  now  prepared  for  a  secret  expedition  to  take  Mecca 
by  surprise.  His  allies  were  summoned  from  all  quarters  to 
Medina;  but  no  intimation  was  given  of  the  object  he  had  in 
view.  All  the  roads  leading  to  Mecca  were  barred  to  prevent 
any  intelligence  of  his  movements  being  carried  to  the  Koreish- 
ites.  With  all  his  precautions  the  secret  came  near  being 
discovered.  Among  his  followers,  fugitives  from  Mecca,  was 
one  named  Hateb,  whose  family  had  remained  behind,  and 
were  without  connections  or  friends  to  take  an  interest  in 
their  welfare.  Hateb  now  thought  to  gain  favor  for  them 
among  the  Koreishites,  by  betraying  the  plans  of  Mahomet. 
He  accordingly  wrote  a  letter  revealing  the  intended  enter- 
prise, and  gave  it  in  charge  to  a  singing  woman,  named  Sara, 
a  Haschemite  slave,  Avho  undertook  to  carry  it  to  Mecca. 

She  was  already  on  the  road  when  Mahomet  was  apprised  of 
the  treachery.  Ali  and  five  others,  well  mounted,  were  sent 
in  pursuit  of  the  messenger.  They  soon  overtook  her,  but 
searched  her  pei*son  in  vain.  Most  of  them  would  have  given 
up  the  search  and  turned  back,  but  Ali  was  confident  that 
the  prophet  of  God  could  not  be  mistaken  nor  misinformed. 
Drawing  his  scimetar,  he  swore  to  strike  off  the  head  of  the 
messenger,  unless  the  letter  were  produced.  The  threat  was 
effectual.     She  drew  forth  the  letter  from  among  her  hair. 

Hateb,  on  being  taxed  with  his  perfidy,  acknowledged  it,  but 
pleaded  his  anxiety  to  secure  favor  for  his  destitute  family, 
and  his  certainty  that  the  letter  woidd  be  harmless,  and  of 
no  avail  against  the  purposes  of  the  apostle  of  God.  Omar 
spurned  at  his  excuses,  and  wrould  have  struck  off  his  head ; 
but  Mahomet,  calling  to  mind  that  Hateb  had  fought  bravcly 
in  support  of  the  faith  in  the  battle  of  the  Beder,  admitted  his 
excuses  and  forgave  him. 

The  prophet  departed  with  ten  thousand  men  on  this  mo- 
mentous enterprise.  Omar,  who  had  charge  of  regulating  the 
march  and  appointing  the  encampments,  led  the  army  by 
lonely  passes  of  the  mountains ;  prohibiting  the  sound  of  atta- 
bal  or  trumpet,  or  anything  else  that  could  betray  their  move- 


148  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

merits.  While  on  the  march  Mahomet  was  joined  by  his 
uncle  Al  Abbas,  who  had  come  forth  with  his  family  from 
Mecca,  to  rally  under  the  standard  of  the  faith.  Mahomet  re- 
ceived him  graciously,  yet  with  a  hint  at  his  tardiness.  "Thou 
art  the  last  of  the  emigrants,"  said  he,  "as  I  am  the  last  of 
the  prophets."  Al  Abbas  sent  his  family  forward  to  Medina, 
while  he  turned  and  accompanied  the  expedition.  The  army 
reached  the  valley  of  Marr  Azzahran,  near  to  the  sacred  city, 
without  being  discovered.  It  was  nightfall  when  they  silently 
pitched  their  tents,  and  now  Omar  for  the  first  time  permitted 
them  to  light  their  watchfires. 

In  the  mean  time,  though  Al  Abbas  had  joined  the  standard 
of  the  faith  in  all  sincerity,  yet  he  was  sorely  disquieted  at 
seeing  his  nephew  advancing  against  Mecca  with  such  a  pow- 
erful force  and  such  hostile  intent,  and  feared  the  entire  de- 
struction of  the  Koreishites,  unless  they  could  be  persuaded  in 
time  to  capitulate.  In  the  dead  of  the  night  he  mounted  Ma- 
homet's white  mule  Fadda,  and  rode  forth  to  reconnoitre.  In 
skirting  the  camp  he  heard  the  tramp  of  men  and  sound  of 
voices.  A  scouting  party  were  bringing  in  two  prisoners  cap- 
tured near  the  city.  Al  Abbas  approached,  and  found  the 
captives  to  be  Abu  Sofian  and  one  of  his  captains.  They  were 
conducted  to  the  watchfire  of  Omar,  who  recognized  Abu 
Sofian  by  the  light.  "  God  be  praised,"  cried  he,  "that  I  have 
such  an  enemy  in  my  hands,  and  without  conditions."  His 
ready  scimetar  might  have  given  fatal  significance  to  his 
words,  had  not  Al  Abbas  stepped  forward  and  taken  Abu 
Sofian  under  his  protection,  until  the  will  of  the  prophet 
should  be  known.  Omar  rushed  forth  to  ascertain  that  will, 
or  rather  to  demand  the  life  of  the  prisoner ;  but  Al  Abbas, 
taking  the  latter  up  behind  him,  put  spurs  to  his  mule,  and 
was  the  first  to  reach  the  tent  of  the  prophet,  followed  hard  by 
Omar,  clamoring  for  the  head  of  Abu  Sofian. 

Mahomet  thus  beheld  in  his  power  his  inveterate  enemy,  who 
had  driven  him  from  his  home  and  country,  and  persecuted 
his  family  and  friends ;  but  he  beheld  in  him  the  father  of  his 
wife  Omm  Habiba,  and  felt  inclined  to  clemency.  He  post- 
poned all  decision  in  the  matter  until  morning,  giving  Abu 
Sofian  in  charge  of  Al  Abbas. 

When  the  captain  was  brought  before  him  on  the  following 
day,  "Well,  Abu  Sofian,"  cried  he,  "is  it  not  at  length  time 
to  know  that  there  is  no  other  God  but  God?" 

"That  I  already  knew,"  replied  Abu  Sofian. 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  \4Q 

"  Good !  and  is  it  not  time  for  thee  to  acknowledge  me  as  the 
apostle  of  God?" 

"Dearer  art  thou  tome  than  my  father  and  my  mother," 
replied  Abu  Sofian,  using  an  oriental  phrase  of  compliment ; 
"but  I  am  not  yet  prepared  to  acknowledge  thee  a  prophet." 

"Out  upon  thee!"  cried  Omar,  "testify  instantly  to  the 
truth,  or  thy  head  shall  be  severed  from  thy  body." 

To  these  threats  were  added  the  counsels  and  entreaties  of  Al 
Abbas,  who  showed  himself  a  real  friend  in  need.  The  rancor 
of  Abu  Sofian  had  already  been  partly  subdued  by  the  unex- 
pected mildness  of  Mahomet ;  so,  making  a  merit  of  necessity, 
he  acknowledged  the  divinity  of  his  mission ;  furnishing  an  il- 
lustration of  the  Moslem  maxim,  "  To  convince  stubborn  unbe- 
lievers there  is  no  argument  like  the  sword." 

Having  now  embraced  the  faith,  Abu  Sofian  obtained  favor- 
able  terms  for  the  people  of  Mecca,  in  case  of  their  submission. 
None  were  to  be  harmed  who  should  remain  quietly  in  their 
houses ;  or  should  take  refuge  in  the  houses  of  Abu  Sofian  and 
Hakim ;  or  under  the  banner  of  Abu  Kawaiha. 

That  Abu  Sofian  might  take  back  to  the  city  a  proper  idea  of 
the  force  brought  against  it,  he  was  stationed  with  Al  Abbas 
at  a  narrow  defile  where  the  whole  army  passed  in  review.  As 
the  various  Arab  tribes  marched  by  with  their  different  arms 
and  ensigns,  Al  Abbas  explained  the  name  and  country  of 
each.  Abu  Sofian  was  surprised  at  the  number,  discipline,  and 
equipment  of  the  troops ;  for  the  Moslems  had  been  rapidly  im- 
proving in  the  means  and  art  of  war ;  but  when  Mahomet  ap- 
proached, in  the  midst  of  a  chosen  guard,  armed  at  all  points 
and  glittering  with  steel,  his  astonishment  passed  all  bounds. 
"There  is  no  withstanding  this !"  cried  he  to  Al  Abbas,  with  an 
oath — "  truly  thy  nephew  wields  a  mighty  power." 

"  Even  so,"  replied  the  other;  "return  then  to  thy  people; 
provide  for  their  safety,  and  warn  them  not  to  oppose  the 
apostle  of  God." 

Abu  Sofian  hastened  back  to  Mecca,  and  assembling  the  in- 
habitants, told  them  of  the  mighty  host  at  hand,  led  on  by  Ma- 
homet ;  of  the  favorable  terms  offered  in  case  of  their  submis- 
sion, and  of  the  vanity  of  all  resistance.  As  Abu  Sofian  had 
been  the  soul  of  the  opposition  to  Mahomet  and  his  doctrines, 
his  words  had  instant  effect  in  producing  acquiescence  in  an 
event  which  seemed  to  leave  no  alternative.  The  greater  part 
of  the  inhabitants,  therefore,  prepared  to  witness,  without  re- 
sistance, the  entry  of  the  prophet. 


150  MAHOMET  AXD  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

Mahomet,  in  the  mean  time,  who  knew  not  what  resistance 
he  might  meet  with,  made  a  careful  distribution  of  his  forces  as 
he  approached  the  city.  While  the  main  body  marched  direct- 
ly forward,  strong  detachments  advanced  over  the  hills  on  each 
side.  To  Ali,  who  commanded  a  large  body  of  cavalry,  was 
confided  the  sacred  banner,  which  he  was  to  plant  on  Mount 
Hadjun,  and  maintain  it  there  until  joined  by  the  prophet. 
Express  orders  were  given  to  all  the  generals  to  practise  for- 
bearance, and  in  no  instance  to  make  the  first  attack ;  for  it 
was  the  earnest  desire  of  Mahomet  to  win  Mecca  by  modera- 
tion and  clemency,  rather  than  subdue  it  by  violence.  It  is 
true,  all  who  offered  armed  resistance  were  to  be  cut  down,  but 
none  were  to  be  harmed  who  submitted  quietly.  Overhearing 
one  of  his  captains  exclaim,  in  the  heat  of  his  zeal,  that  "  no 
place  was  sacred  on  the  day  of  battle,"  he  instantly  appointed 
a  cooler-headed  commander  in  his  place. 

The  main  body  of  the  army  advanced  without  molestation. 
Mahomet  brought  up  the  rear-guard,  clad  in  a  scarlet  vest,  and 
mounted  on  his  favorite  camel  Al  Kaswa.  He  proceeded  but 
slowly,  however;  his  movements  being  impeded  by  the  im- 
mense multitude  which  thronged  around  him.  Arrived  on 
Mount  Hadjun,  where  Ali  had  planted  the  standard  of  the 
faith,  a  tent  was  pitched  for  him.  Here  he  alighted,  put  off 
his  scarlet  garment,  and  assumed  the  black  turban  and  the  pil- 
grim garb.  Casting  a  look  down  into  the  plain,  however,  he 
beheld,  with  grief  and  indignation,  the  gleam  of  swords  and 
lances,  and  Khaled,  who  commanded  the  left  wing,  in  a  full 
career  of  carnage.  His  troops,  composed  of  Arab  tribes  con- 
verted to  the  faith,  had  been  galled  by  a  flight  of  arrows  from 
a  body  of  Koreishites ;  whereupon  the  fiery  warrior  charged 
into  the  thickest  of  them  with  sword  and  lance;  his  troops 
pressed  after  him ;  they  put  the  enemy  to  flight,  entered  the 
gates  of  Mecca  pell-mell  with  them,  and  nothing  but  the  swift 
commands  of  Mahomet  preserved  the  city  from  a  general 
massacre. 

The  carnage  being  stopped,  and  no  further  opposition  mani- 
fested, the  prophet  descended  from  the  mount  and  approached 
the  gatas,  seated  on  his  camel,  accompanied  by  Abu  Beker  on 
his  right  hand,  and  followed  by  Osama,  the  son  of  Zeid.  The 
sun  was  just  rising  as  he  entered  the  gates  of  his  native  city, 
with  the  glory  of  a  conqueror,  but  the  garb  and  humility  of  a 
pilgrim.  He  entered,  repeating  verses  of  the  Koran,  which  he 
said  had  been  revealed  to  him  at  Medina,  and  were  prophetic 


MAHOMET  AND  MS  SUCCESSORS.  151 

of  the  event.  He  triumphed  in  the  spirit  of  a  religious  zealot, 
not  of  a  warrior.  "  Unto  God,"  said  he,  "belong  the  hosts  of 
heaven  and  earth,  and  God  is  mighty  and  wise.  Now  hath 
God  verified  unto  his  apostle  the  vision,  wherein  he  said,  ye 
shall  surely  enter  the  holy  temple  of  Mecca  in  full  security." 

Without  dismounting,  Mahomet  repaired  directly  to  the 
Caaba,  the  scene  of  his  early  devotions,  the  sacred  shrine  of 
worship  since  the  days  of  the  patriarchs,  and  which  he  regarded 
as  the  primitive  temple  of  the  one  true  God.  Here  he  made 
the  seven  circuits  round  the  sacred  edifice,  a  reverential  rite 
from  the  days  of  religious  purity ;  with  the  same  devout  feel- 
ing he  each  time  touched  the  black  stone  with  his  staff ;  regard- 
ing it  as  a  holy  relic.  He  would  have  entered  the  Caaba,  but 
Othman  Ibn  Talha,  the  ancient  custodian,  locked  the  door. 
Ali  snatched  the  keys,  but  Mahomet  caused  them  to  be  returned 
to  the  venerable  officer,  and  so  won  him  by  his  kindness  that 
he  not  merely  threw  open  the  doors,  but  subsequently  em- 
braced the  faith  of  Islam ;  whereupon  he  was  continued  in  his 
office. 

Mahomet  now  proceeded  to  execute  the  great  object  of  his 
religious  aspirations,  the  purifying  of  the  sacred  edifice  from 
the  symbols  of  idolatry,  with  which  it  was  crowded.  All  the 
idols  in  and  about  it,  to  the  number  of  three  hundred  and 
sixty,  were  thrown  down  and  destroyed.  Among  these  the 
most  renowned  was  Hobal,  an  idol  brought  from  Balka,  in 
Syria,  and  fabled  to  have  the  power  of  granting  rain.  It  was, 
of  course,  a  great  object  of  worship  among  the  inhabitants  of 
the  thirsty  desert.  There  were  statues  of  Abraham  and  Ish- 
mael  also,  represented  with  divining  arrows  in  their  hands; 
"an  outrage  on  their  memories,"  said  Mahomet,  "being  sym- 
bols of  a  diabolical  art  which  they  had  never  practised."  In 
reverence  of  their  memories,  therefore,  these  statues  were 
demolished.  There  were  paintings,  also,  depicting  angels  in 
the  guise  of  beautiful  women.  "The  angels,"  said  Mahomet 
indignantly,  "are  no  such  beings.  There  are  celestial  houris 
provided  in  paradise  for  the  solace  of  true  believers;  but  angels 
are  ministering  spirits  of  the  Most  High,  and  of  too  pure  a 
nature  to  admit  of  sex."  The  paintings  were  accordingly 
obliterated. 

Even  a  dove,  curiously  carved  of  wood,  he  broke  with  his 
own  hands,  and  cast  upon  the  ground,  as  savoring  of  idolatry. 

From  the  Caaba  he  proceeded  to  the  well  of  Zem  Zem.  '  It 
was  sacred  in  his  eyes,  from  his  belief  that  it  was  the  identical 


152  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

well  revealed  by  the  angel  to  Hagar  and  Ishmacl,  in  their  ex- 
tremity ;  he  considered  the  rite  connected  with  it  as  pure  and 
holy,  and  continued  it  in  his  faith.  As  he  approached  the 
well,  his  uncle  Al  Abbas  presented  him  a  cruse  of  the  water, 
that  he  might  drink,  and  make  the  customary  ablution,  in 
commemoration  of  this  pious  act,  he  appointed  his  uncle 
guardian  of  the  cup  of  the  well;  an  office  of  sacred  dignity, 
which  his  descendants  retain  to  this  day. 

At  noon  one  of  his  followers,  at  his  command,  summoned 
the  people  to  prayer  from  the  top  of  the  Caaba,  a  custom  con- 
tinued ever  since  throughout  Mahometan  countries,  from 
minarets  or  towers  provided  in  every  mosque.  He  also  estab- 
lished the  Kebla,  toward  which  the  faithful  in  every  part  of 
the  world  should  turn  their  faces  in  prayer. 

He  afterward  addressed  the  people  in  a  kind  of  sermon,  set- 
ting forth  his  principal  doctrines,  and  announcing  the  triumph 
of  the  faith  as  a  fulfilment  of  prophetic  promise.  Shouts  burst 
from  the  multitude  in  reply.  "Allah  Achbar !  God  is  great !" 
cried  they.  "  There  is  no  God  but  God,  and  Mahomet  is  his 
prophet." 

The  religious  ceremonials  being  ended,  Mahomet  took  his 
station  on  the  hill  Al  Safa,  and  the  people  of  Mecca,  male  and 
female,  passed  before  him,  taking  the  oath  of  fidelity  to  him 
as  the  prophet  of  God,  and  renouncing  idolatry.  This  was  in 
compliance  with  a  revelation  in  the  Koran :  '*'  God  hath  sent 
his  apostle  with  the  direction,  and  the  religion  of  truth  that 
he  may  exalt  the  same  over  every  religion.  Verily,  they  who 
swear  fealty  to  him,  swear  fealty  unto  God ;  the  hand  of  God 
is  over  their  hands. "  In  the  midst  of  his  triumph,  however, 
he  rejected  all  homage  paid  exclusively  to  himself,  and  all 
regal  authority.  "  Why  dost  thou  tremble?"  said  he,  to  a  man 
who  approached  with  timid  and  faltering  steps.  "  Of  wbat 
dost  thou  stand  in  awe?  I  am  no  king,  but  the  son  of  a 
Koreishite  woman,  who  ate  flesh  dried  in  the  sun." 

His  lenity  was  equally  conspicuous.  The  once  haughty 
chiefs  of  the  Koreishites  appeared  with  abject  countenances 
before  the  man  they  had  persecuted,  for  their  lives  were  in  his 
power.  _ 

"What  can  you  expect  at  my  hands?"  demanded  he  sternly. 

' '  Mercy,  oh  generous  brother  1  Mercy,  oh  son  of  a  generous 
line !" 

"Be  it  so!"  cried  he,  with  a  mixture  of  scorn  and  pity. 
u  Away !  begone !  ye  are  free  I" 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  103 

Some  of  his  followers  who  had  shared  his  persecutions  were 
disappointed  in  their  anticipations  of  a  bloody  revenge,  and 
murmured  at  his  clemency ;  but  he  persisted  in  it,  and  estab- 
lished Mecca  as  an  inviolable  sanctuary,  or  place  of  refuge,  so 
to  continue  until  the  final  resurrection.  He  reserved  to  him- 
self, however,  the  right  on  the  present  occasion,  and  during 
that  special  day,  to  punish  a  few  of  the  people  of  the  city,  who 
had  grievously  offended,  and  been  expressly  proscribed;  yet 
even  these,  for  the  most  part,  were  ultimately  forgiven. 

Among  the  Koreishite  women  who  advanced  to  take  the 
oath  he  descried  Honda,  the  wife  of  Abu  Sofian ;  the  savage 
woman  who  had  animated  the  infidels  at  the  battle  of  Ohod, 
and  had  gnawed  the  heart  of  Hamza,  in  revenge  for  the  death 
of  her  father.  On  the  present  occasion  she  had  disguised  her- 
self to  escape  detection;  but  seeing  the  eyes  of  the  prophet 
fixed  on  her,  she  threw  herself  at  his  feet,  exclaiming,  "  I  am 
Henda:  pardon!  pardon!"  Mahomet  pardoned  her— and  was 
requited  for  his  clemency  by  her  making  his  doctrines  the  sub- 
ject of  contemptuous  sarcasms. 

Among  those  destined  to  punishment  was  Wacksa,  the 
Ethiopian,  who  had  slain  Hamza;  but  he  had  fled  from  Mecca 
on  the  entrance  of  the  army.  At  a  subsequent  period  he  pre- 
sented himself  before  the  prophet,  and  made  the  profession  of 
faith  before  he  was  recognized.  He  was  forgiven,  and  made 
to  relate  the  particulars  of  the  death  of  Hamza ;  after  w hich 
Mahomet  dismissed  him  with  an  injunction  never  again  to 
come  into  his  presence.  He  survived  until  the  time  of  the 
Caliphat  of  Omar,  during  whose  reign  he  was  repeatedly 
scourged  for  drunkenness. 

Another  of  the  proscribed  was  Abdallah  Ibn  Saad,  a  young 
Koreishite,  distinguished  for  wit  and  humor  as  well  as  for 
warlike  accomplishments.  As  he  held  the  pen  of  a  ready 
writer,  Mahomet  had  employed  him  to  reduce  the  revelations 
of  the  Koran  to  writing.  In  so  doing  he  had  often  altered  and 
amended  the  text ;  nay,  it  was  discovered  that,  through  care- 
lessness or  design,  he  had  occasionally  falsified  it,  and  ren- 
dered it  absurd.  He  had  even  made  his  alterations  and 
amendments  matter  of  scoff  and  jest  among  his  companions, 
observing  that  if  the  Koran  proved  Mahomet  to  be  a  prophet, 
he  himself  must  be  half  a  prophet.  His  interpolations  being 
detected,  he  had  fled  from  the  wrath  of  the  prophet,  and  re- 
turned to  Mecca,  where  he  relapsed  into  idolatry.  On  the  cap- 
ture of  the  city  his  foster-brother  concealed  him  in  his  house 


104  M AIIO MET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

until  the  tumult  had  subsided,  when  he  led  him  into  the  pres- 
ence of  the  prophet,  and  supplicated  for  his  pardon.  This 
was  the  severest  trial  of  the  lenity  of  Mahomet.  The  offender 
had  betrayed  his  confidence;  held  him  up  to  ridicule;  ques- 
tioned Ms  apostolic  mission,  and  struck  at  the  very  foundation 
of  his  faith.  For  some  time  he  maintained  a  stern  silence, 
hoping,  as  he  afterward  declared,  some  zealous  disciple  might 
strike  off  the  offender's  head.  No  one,  however,  stirred ;  so, 
yielding  to  the  entreaties  of  Othman,  he  granted  a  pardon. 
Abdallah  instantly  renewed  his  profession  of  faith,  and  con- 
tinued a  good  Mussulman.  His  name  will  be  found  in  the 
wars  of  the  Caliphs.  He  was  one  of  the  most  dexterous  horse- 
men of  his  tribe,  and  evinced  his  ruling  passion  to  the  last,  for 
he  died  repeating  the  hundredth  chapter  of  the  Koran,  entitled 
' '  The  war  steeds."  Perhaps  it  was  one  which  had  experienced 
his  interpolations. 

Another  of  the  proscribed  was  Akrema  Ibn  Abu  Jahl,  who 
on  many  occasions  had  manifested  a  deadly  hostility  to  the 
prophet,  inherited  from  his  father.  On  the  entrance  of  Ma- 
homet into  Mecca,  Akrema  threw  himself  upon  a  fleet  horse, 
and  escaped  by  an  opposite  gate,  leaving  behind  him  a  beauti- 
ful wife,  Omm  Hakem,  to  whom  he  was  recently  married. 
She  embraced  the  faith  of  Islam,  but  soon  after  learnt  that 
her  husband,  in  attempting  to  escape  by  sea  to  Yemen,  had 
been  driven  back  to  port.  Hastening  to  the  presence  of  the 
prophet,  she  threw  herself  on  her  knees  before  him,  loose,  dir 
shevelled,  and  unveiled,  and  implored  grace  for  her  husband. 
The  prophet,  probably  more  moved  by  her  beauty  than  her 
grief,  raised  her  gently  from  the  earth,  and  told  her  her  prayer 
was  granted.  Hurrying  to  the  seaport,  she  arrived  just  as  the 
vessel  in  which  her  husband  had  embarked  was  about  to  sail. 
She  returned,  mounted  behind  him,  to  Mecca,  and  brought 
him,  a  true  believer,  into  the  presence  of  the  prophet.  On  this 
occasion,  however,  she  was  so  closely  veiled  that  her  dark  eyes 
alone  were  visible.  Mahomet  received  Akrema's  profession  of 
faith;  made  him  commander  of  a  battalion  of  Hawazenites,  as 
the  dower  of  his  beautiful  and  devoted  wife,  and  bestowed  lib- 
eral donations  on  the  youthful  couple.  Like  many  other  con- 
verted enemies,  Akrema  proved  a  valiant  soldier  in  the  wars 
of  the  faith,  and  after  signalizing  himself  on  various  occasions, 
fell  in  battle,  hacked  and  pierced  by  swords  and  lances. 

The  whole  conduct  of  Mahomet,  on  gaining  possession  of 
Mecca,  showed  that  it  was  a  religious  more  than  a  military 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  155 

triumph.  His  heart,  too,  softened  toward  his  native  place, 
now  that  it  was  in  his  power;  his  resentments  were  extin- 
guished hy  success,  and  his  inclinations  were  all  toward  for- 
giveness. 

The  Ansarians,  or  Auxiharies  of  Medina,  who  had  aided  him 
in  his  campaign,  hogan  to  fear  that  its  success  might  prove 
fatal  to  their  own  interests.  They  watched  him  anxiously,  as 
one  day,  after  praying  on  the  hill  Al  Safa,  he  sat  gazing  down 
wistfully  upon  Mecca,  the  scene  of  his  early  struggles  and 
recent  glory:  "Verily,"  said  he,  "thou  art  the  best  of  cities, 
and  the  most  beloved  of  Allah !  Had  I  not  been  driven  out 
from  thee  by  my  own  tribe,  never  would  I  have  left  thee !" 
On  hearing  this,  the  Ansarians  said,  one  to  another,  "  Behold! 
Mahomet  is  conqueror  and  master  of  his  native  city;  he  will, 
doubtless,  establish  himself  here,  and  forsake  Medina !"  Their 
words  reached  his  ear,  and  he  turned  to  them  with  reproach- 
ful warmth:  "No!"  cried  he,  "  when  you  plighted  to  me  your 
allegiance,  I  swore  to  live  and  die  with  you.  I  should  not  act 
as  the  servant  of  God,  nor  as  his  ambassador,  were  I  to  leave 
you." 

He  acted  according  to  his  words,  and  Medina,  which  had 
been  his  city  of  refuge,  continued  to  be  his  residence  to  his 
dying  day. 

Mahomet  did  not  content  himself  with  purifying  the  Caaba 
and  abolishing  idolatry  from  his  native  city ;  he  sent  forth  his 
captains  at  the  head  of  armed  bands,  to  cast  down  the  idols  of 
dh^erent  tribes  set  up  in  the  neighboring  towns  and  villages, 
and  to  convert  then  worshippers  to  his  faith. 

Of  all  these  military  apostles,  none  was  so  zealous  as  Khaled, 
whose  spirit  was  still  fermenting  with  recent  conversion. 
ArriviDg  at  Naklah,  the  resort  of  the  idolatrous  Koreishites,  to 
worship  at  the  shrine  of  Uzza,  he  penetrated  the  sacred  grove, 
laid  waste  the  temple,  and  cast  the  idol  to  the  ground.  A  hor- 
rible hag,  black  and  naked,  with  dishevelled  hair,  rushed  forth, 
shrieking  and  wringing  her  hands;  but  Khaled  severed  her 
through  the  middle  with  one  blow  of  Iris  schnetar.  He 
reported  the  deed  to  Mahomet,  expressing  a  doubt  whether 
she  were  priestess  or  evil  spirit.  "  Of  a  truth,"  replied  the  pro- 
phet, "  it  was  Uzza  herself  whom  thou  hast  destroyed." 

On  a  similar  errand  into  the  neighboring  province  of  Teho- 
ma,  Khaled  had  with  him  three  hundred  and  fifty  men,  some 
of  them  of  the  tribe  of  Suleim,  and  was  accompanied  by  Ab- 
da'lrahman,  one  of  the  earliest  proselytes  of  the  faith.     His 


156  M AIlO MET  AND  11  IS  SUCCESSORS. 

instructions  from  the  prophet  were  to  preach  peace  and  good- 
will, to  inculcate  the  faith,  and  to  abstain  from  violence, 
unless  assailed.  When  about  two  days'  journey  on  his  way  to 
Tehama,  he  had  to  pass  through  the  country  of  the  tribe  of 
Jadsima.  Most  of  the  inhabitants  had  embraced  the  faith, 
but  some  were  still  of  the  Sabean  religion.  On  a  former  occa- 
sion this  tribe  had  plundered  and  slain  an  uncle  of  Khaled, 
also  the  father  of  Abda'lrahman,  and  several  Suleimites,  as 
they  were  returning  from  Arabia  Felix.  Dreading  that 
Khaled  and  his  host  might  take  vengeance  for  these  misdeeds, 
they  armed  themselves  on  their  approach. 

Khaled  was  secretly  rejoiced  at  seeing  them  ride  forth  to 
meet  him  in  this  military  array.  Hailing  them  with  an  impe- 
rious tone,  he  demanded  whether  they  were  Moslems  or  infi- 
dels. They  replied  in  faltering  accents,  "Moslems."  "Why, 
then,  come  ye  forth  to  meet  us  with  weapons  in  your  hands?" 
"  Because  we  have  enemies  among  some  of  the  tribes  who  may 
attack  us  unawares." 

Khaled  sternly  ordered  them  to  dismount  and  lay  by  their 
weapons.  Some  complied,  and  were  instantly  seized  and 
bound ;  the  rest  fled.  Taking  their  flight  as  a  confession  of 
guilt,  he  pursued  them  with  great  slaughter,  laid  waste  the 
country,  and  in  the  effervescence  of  his  zeal  even  slew  some  of 
the  prisoners. 

Mahomet,  when  he  heard  of  this  unprovoked  outrage,  raised 
his  hands  to  heaven,  and  called  God  to  witness  that  he  was 
innocent  of  it.  Khaled,  when  upbraided  with  it  on  his  return, 
would  fain  have  shifted  the  blame  on  Abda'lrahman,  but  Maho- 
met rejected  indignantly  an  imputation  against  one  of  the  ear- 
liest and  worthiest  of  his  followers.  The  generous  Ali  was 
sent  forthwith  to  restore  to  the  people  of  Jadsima  what 
Khaled  had  wrested  from  them,  and  to  make  pecuniary  com- 
pensation to  the  relatives  of  the  slain.  It  was  a  mission  con- 
genial with  his  nature,  and  he  executed  it  faithfully.  Inquir- 
ing into  the  losses  and  sufferings  of  each  individual,  he  paid 
him  to  his  full  content.  When  every  loss  was  made  good,  and 
all  blood  atoned  for,  he  distributed  the  remaining  money 
among  the  people,  gladdening  every  heart  by  his  bounty.  So 
Ali  received  the  thanks  and  praises  of  the  prophet,  but  the 
vindictive  Khaled  was  rebuked  even  by  those  whom  he  had 
thought  to  please. 

"Behold!"  said  he  to  Abda'lrahman,  "I  have  avenged  the 
death  of  thy  father."     "Rather  say,"  replied  the  other  indig- 


MAHOMET  AXD  IIIS  SUCCESSORS.  157 

nantly,  "thou  hast  avenged  the  death  of  thine  uncle.    Thou 
hast  disgraced  the  faith  hy  an  act  worthy  of  an  idolater." 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

HOSTILITIES  IN  THE  MOUNTAINS — ENEMY'S  CAMP  IN  THE  VALLEY 
OF  AUTAS — BATTLE  AT  THE  PASS  OP  HONEIN — CAPTURE  OF  THE 
ENEMY'S  CAMP — INTERVIEW  OF  MAHOMET  WITH  THE  NURSE  OF 
HIS  CHILDHOOD— DIVISION  OF  SPOIL — MAHOMET  AT  HIS  MOTHER'S 

GRAVE. 

While  the  military  apostles  of  Mahomet  were  spreading  his 
doctrines  at  the  point  of  the  sword  in  the  plains,  a  hostile 
storm  was  gathering  in  the  mountains.  A  league  was  formed 
among  the  Thakefites,  the  Hawazins,  the  Joshmites,  the  Saad- 
ites,  and  several  other  of  the  hardy  mountain  tribes  of  Be- 
douins, to  check  a  power  which  threatened  to  subjugate  all 
Arabia.  Tbe  Saadites,  or  Beni  Sad,  here  mentioned,  are  the 
same  pastoral  Arabs  among  whom  Mahomet  had  been  nur- 
tured in  his  childhood,  and  in  whose  valley,  according  to  tra- 
dition, his  heart  had  been  plucked  forth  and  purified  by  an 
angel.  The  Thakefites,  who  were  foremost  in  the  league,  were 
a  powerful  tribe,  possessing  the  strong  mountain  town  of 
Tayef  and  its  productive  territory.  They  were  bigoted  idola- 
ters, maintaining  at  their  capital  the  far-famed  shrine  of  the 
female  idol  Al  Lat.  The  reader  will  remember  the  ignomini- 
ous treatment  of  Mahomet,  when  he  attempted  to  preach  his 
doctrines  at  Tayef;  being  stoned  in  the  public  square,  and 
ultimately  driven  with  insult  from  the  gates.  It  was  probably 
a  dread  of  vengeance  at  his  hands  which  now  made  the  Thakef- 
ites so  active  in  forming  a  league  against  him. 

Malec  Ibn  Auf,  the  chief  of  the  Thakefites,  had  the  general 
command  of  the  confederacy.  He  appointed  the  valley  of 
Autas,  between  Honein  and  Tayef,  as  the  place  of  assemblage 
and  encampment;  and  as  he  knew  the  fickle  nature  of  the 
Arabs,  and  their  prone ness  to  return  home  on  the  least  ca- 
price, he  ordered  them  to  bring  with  them  their  families  and 
effects.    They  assembled,  accordingly,  from  various  parts,  to 


Ig8  MAHOMET  AM)  1I1S  SUCCESSORS. 

the  number  of  four  thousand  fighting  men  ■  but  the  camp  waa 
crowded  with  women  and  children,  and  encumbered  with 
flocks  and  herds. 

The  expedient  of  Malec  Ibn  Auf  to  secure  the  adhesion  of  the 
warriors  was  strongly  disapproved  by  Doraid,  the  chief  of  the 
Joshmites.  This  was  an  ancient  warrior,  upward  of  a  hundred 
years  old;  meagre  as  a  skeleton,  almost  blind,  and  so  feeble 
that  he  had  to  be  borne  in  a  litter  on  the  back  of  a  camel. 
Still,  though  unable  to  mingle  in  battle,  he  was  potent  in  coun- 
cil from  his  military  experience.  This  veteran  of  the  desert 
advised  that  the  women  and  children  should  be  sent  home 
forthwith,  and  the  army  relieved  from  all  unnecessary  incum- 
brances. His  advice  was  not  taken,  and  the  valley  of  Autas 
continued  to  present  rather  the  pastoral  encampment  of  a  tribe 
than  the  hasty  levy  of  an  army. 

In  the  mean  time  Mahomet,  hearing  of  the  gathering  storm, 
had  sallied  forth  to  anticipate  it,  at  the  head  of  about  twelve 
thousand  troops,  partly  fugitives  from  Mecca  and  auxiliaries 
from  Medina,  partly  Arabs  of  the  desert,  some  of  whom  had 
not  yet  embraced  the  faith. 

In  taking  the  field  he  wore  a  polished  cuirass  and  helmet, 
and  rode  his  favorite  white  nude  Daldal,  seldom  mounting  a 
charger,  as  he  rarely  mingled  in  actual  fight.  His  recent  suc- 
cesses and  his  superiority  in  numbers  making  him  confident  of 
an  easy  victory,  he  entered  the  mountains  without  precaution, 
and  pushing  forward  for  the  enemy's  camp  at  Mutas,  came  to 
a  deep  gloomy  valley  on  the  confines  of  Honein.  The  troops 
marched  without  order  through  the  rugged  defile,  each  one 
choosing  his  own  path.  Suddenly  they  were  assailed  by 
showers  of  darts,  stones,  and  arroAvs,  which  laid  two  or  three 
of  Mahomet's  soldiers  dead  at  his  feet,  and  wounded  several 
others.  Malec,  in  fact,  had  taken  post  with  his  ablest  warriors 
about  the  heights  commanding  this  narrow  gorge.  Every 
cliff  and  cavern  was  garrisoned  with  archers  and  slingcrs,  and 
some  rushed  down  to  contend  at  close  quarters. 

Struck  with  a  sudden  panic,  the  Moslems  turned  and  fled.  In 
vain  did  Mahomet  call  upon  them  as  their  general,  or  appeal 
to  them  as  the  prophet  of  God.  Each  man  sought  but  his  own 
safety,  and  an  escape  from  this  horrible  valley. 

For  a  moment  all  seemed  lost,  and  some  recent  but  unwill- 
ing converts  betrayed  an  exultation  in  the  supposed  reverse  of 
fortune  of  the  prophet. 

"By  heavens!"  cried  Abu  Sofian,  as  he  looked  after  the  fly- 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  159 

ing  Moslems,  "nothing  will  stop  them  until  they  reach  the 


sea." 


"  Ay,"  exclaimed  another,  "the  magic  power  of  Mahomet  is 
at  an  end !" 

A  third,  who  cherished  a  lurking  revenge  for  the  death  of 
his  father,  slain  by  the  Moslems  in  the  battle  of  Ohod,  woidd 
have  killed  the  prophet  in  the  confusion,  had  he  not  been  sur- 
rounded and  protected  by  a  few  devoted  followers.  Mahomet 
himself,  in  an  impulse  of  desperation,  spurred  his  mule  upon 
the  enemy ;  but  Al  Abbas  seized  the  bridle,  stayed  him  from 
rushing  to  cei'tain  death,  and  at  the  same  time  put  up  a  shout 
that  echoed  through  the  narrow  valley.  Al  Abbas  was  re- 
nowned for  strength  of  lungs,  and  at  this  critical  moment  it 
was  the  salvation  of  tbe  army.  The  Moslems  rallied  when 
they  heard  his  well-known  voice,  and  finding  they  were  not 
pursued  returned  to  the  combat.  The  enemy  had  descended 
from  the  heights,  and  now  a  bloody  conflict  ensued  in  the  de- 
file. "The  furnace  is  kindling,"  cried  Mahomet  exultingly, 
as  he  saw  the  glitter  of  arms  and  flash  of  weapons.  Stooping 
from  his  saddle  and  grasping  a  handful  of  dust,  he  scattered  it 
in  the  air  towards  the  enemy.  ' '  Confusion  on  their  faces !"  cried 
he,  "may  this  dust  blind  them!"  They  were  blinded  accord- 
ingly, and  fled  in  confusion,  say  the  Moslem  writers ;  though 
their  defeat  may  rather  be  attributed  to  the  Moslem  superior- 
ity of  force  and  the  zeal  inspired  by  the  acclamations  of  the 
prophet.  Malec  and  the  Thakefites  took  refuge  in  the  distant 
city  of  Tayef,  the  rest  retreated  to  the  camp  in  the  valley  of 
Autas. 

While  Mahomet  remained  in  the  valley  of  Honein,  he  sent 
Abu  Amir,  with  a  strong  force,  to  attack  the  camp.  The 
Hawazins  made  a  brave  defence.  Abu  Amir  was  slain ;  but 
his  nephew,  Abu  Musa,  took  the  command,  and  obtained  a 
complete  victory,  killing  many  of  the  enemy.  The  camp  af- 
forded great  booty  and  many  captives,  from  the  unwise  expe- 
dient of  Malec  Ibn  Auf ,  in  incumbering  it  with  the  families 
and  effects,  the  flocks  and  herds  of  the  confederates ;  and  from 
his  disregard  of  the  sage  advice  of  the  veteran  Doraid.  The 
fate  of  that  ancient  warrior  of  the  desert  is  worthy  of  mention. 
While  the  Moslem  troops,  scattered  through  the  camp,  were 
intent  on  booty,  Rabia  Ibn  Ra.fi,  a  young  Suleimite,  observed  a 
litter  borne  off  on  the  back  of  a  camel,  and  pursued  it,  suppos- 
ing it  to  contain  some  beautiful  female.  On  overtaking  it,  and 
drawing  the  curtain,  he  beheld  the  skeleton  form  of  the  an- 


1(30  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

cient  Doraid.  Vexed  and  disappointed,  he  struck  at  hina 
with  his  sword,  but  the  weapon  broke  in  his  hand.  "Thy 
mother,"  said  the  old  man  sneeringly,  "has  furnished  thee 
with  wretched  weapons ;  thou  wilt  find  a  better  one  hanging 
behind  my  saddle." 

The  youth  seized  it,  but  as  he  drew  it  from  the  scabbard, 
Doraid  perceiving  that  he  was  a  Suleimite,  exclaimed,  "Tell 
thy  mother  thou  hast  slain  Doraid  Ibn  Simma,  who  has  pro- 
tected many  women  of  her  tribe  in  the  day  of  battle."  The 
words  were  ineffectual ;  the  skull  of  the  veteran  was  cloven 
with  his  own  scimetar.  When  Rabia,  on  his  return  to  Mecca, 
told  his  mother  of  the  deed,  "  Thou  hast  indeed  slain  a  bene- 
factor of  thy  race,"  said  she  reproachfully.  "  Three  women  of 
thy  family  has  Doraid  Ibn  Simrna  freed  from  captivity. " 

Abu  Musa  returned  in  triumph  to  Mahomet,  making  a  great 
display  of  the  spoils  of  the  camp  of  Autas,  and  the  women  and 
children  whom  he  had  captured.  One  of  the  female  captives 
threw  herself  at  the  feet  of  the  prophet,  and  implored  his 
mercy  as  his  foster-sister  Al  Shima,  the  daughter  of  his  nurse 
Halema,  who  had  nurtured  him  in  the  Saadite  valley.  Ma- 
homet sought  in  vain  to  recognize  in  her  withered  features  the 
bright  playmate  of  his  infancy,  but  she  laid  bare  her  back,  and 
showed  a  scar  where  he  had  bitten  her  in  their  childish  gam- 
bols. He  no  longer  doubted;  but  treated  her  with  kindness, 
giving  her  the  choice  either  to  remain  with  him  and  under  his 
protection,  or  to  return  to  her  home  and  kindred. 

A  scruple  rose  among  the  Moslems  with  respect  to  their 
female  captives.  Could  they  take  to  themselves  such  as  were 
married,  without  committing  the  sin  of  adultery?  The  revela- 
tion of  a  text  of  the  Koran  put  an  end  to  the  difficulty.  "Ye 
shall  not  take  to  wife  free  women  who  are  married  unless  your 
right  hand  shall  have  made  them  slaves."  According  to  this 
all  women  taken  in  war  may  be  made  the  wives  of  the  captors, 
though  their  former  husbands  be  living.  The  victors  of  Honein 
failed  not  to  take  immediate  advantage  of  this  law. 

Leaving  the  captives  and  the  booty  in  a  secure  place,  and 
properly  guarded,  Mahomet  now  proceeded  in  pursuit  of  the 
Thakefites  who  had  taken  refuge,  in  Tayef.  A  sentiment  of 
vengeance  mingled  with  his  pious  ardor  as  he  approached  this 
idolatrous  place,  the  scene  of  former  injury  and  insult,  and 
beheld  the  gate  whence  he  had  once  been  ignominiously  driven 
forth.  The  walls  were  too  strong,  however  to  be  stormed,  and 
there  was  a  protecting  castle ;  for  the  first  time,  therefore,  he 


MAUOMET  AND  JUS  SUCCESSORS.  161 

had  recourse  to  catapults,  battering-rams,  and  other  engines 
used  in  sieges,  but  unknown  in  Arabian  warfare.  These  were 
prepared  under  the  direction  of  Salman  al  Farsi,  the  converted 
Persian. 

The  besieged,  however,  repulsed  every  attack,  galling  the 
assailants  with  darts  and  arrows,  and  pouring  down  melted 
iron  upon  the  shields  of  bull-hides,  under  covert  of  which  they 
approached  the  walls.  Mahomet  now  laid  waste  the  fields,  the 
orchards,  and  vineyards,  and  proclaimed  freedom  to  all  slaves 
who  should  desert  from  the  city.  For  twenty  days  he  carried 
on  an  ineffectual  siege — daily  offering  up  prayers  midway  be- 
tween the  tents  of  his  wives  Omm  Salama  and  Zeinab,  to  whom 
it  had  fallen  by  lot  to  accompany  him  in  this  campaign.  His 
hopes  of  success  began  to  fail,  and  he  was  further  discouraged 
by  a  dream,  which  was  unfavorably  interpreted  by  Abu  Beker, 
renowned  for  his  skill  in  expounding  visions.  He  would  have 
raised  the  siege,  but  his  troops  murmured;  whereupon  he 
ordered  an  assault  upon  one  of  the  gates.  As  usual,  it  was 
obstinately  defended ;  numbers  were  slain  on  both  sides ;  Abu 
Sofian,  who  fought  valiantly  on  the  occasion,  lost  an  eye,  and 
the  Moslems  were  finally  repulsed. 

Mahomet  now  broke  up  bis  camp,  promising  his  troops  to 
renew  the  siege  at  a  future  day,  and  proceeded  to  the  place 
where  were  collected  the  spoils  of  his  expedition.  These,  say 
Arabian  writers,  amounted  to  twenty-four  thousand  camels, 
forty  thousand  sheep,  four  thousand  ounces  of  silver,  and  six 
thousand  captives. 

In  a  little  while  appeared  a  deputation  from  the  Hawazins, 
declaring  the  submission  of  their  tribe,  and  begging  the 
restoration  of  their  families  and  effects.  With  them  came 
Halema,  Mahomet's  foster-nurse,  now  well  stricken  in  years. 
The  recollections  of  his  childhood  again  pleaded  with  his  heart. 
"Which  is  dearest  to  you," said  be  to  the  Hawazins,  "your 
families  or  your  goods?"    They  replied,  "  Our  families." 

"Enough,"  rejoined  he,  "  as  far  as  it  concerns  Al  Abbas  and 
myself,  we  are  ready  to  give  up  our  share  of  the  prisoners ; 
but  there  are  others  to  be  moved.  Come  to  me  after  noontide 
prayer,  and  say,  '  We  implore  the  ambassador  of  God  that  he 
counsel  his  followers  to  return  us  our  wives  and  children ;  and 
we  implore  his  followers  that  they  intercede  with  him  in  our 
favor.'" 

The  envoys  did  as  he  advised.  Mahomet  and  Al  Abbas  im- 
mediately renounced  their  share  of  the  captives;  their  example 


162  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

was  followed  by  all  excepting  the  tribes  of  Tamim  and  Fazara, 
but  Mahomet  brought  them  to  consent  by  promising  them  a  six- 
fold share  of  the  prisoners  taken  in  the  next  expedition.  Thus 
the  intercession  of  Halema  procured  the  deliverance  of  all  the 
captives  of  her  tribe.  A  traditional  anecdote  shows  the  defer- 
ence with  which  Mahomet  treated  this  humble  protector  of  his 
infancy.  "I  was  sitting  with  the  prophet,"  said  one  of  his 
disciples,  ' '  when  all  of  a  sudden  a  woman  presented  herself, 
and  he  rose  and  spread  his  cloth  for  her  to  sit  down  upon. 
When  she  went  away,  it  was  observed,  '  That  woman  suckled 
the  prophet. ' " 

Mahomet  now  sent  an  envoy  to  Malec,  who  remained  shut  up 
in  Tayef ,  offering  the  restitution  of  all  the  spoils  taken  from 
him  at  Honein,  and  a  present  of  one  hundred  camels,  if  he 
would  submit  and  embrace  the  faith.  Malec  was  conquered 
and  converted  by  this  liberal  offer,  and  brought  several  of  his 
confederate  tribes  with  him  to  the  standard  of  the  prophet. 
He  was  immediately  made  then*  chief;  and  proved,  subse- 
quently, a  severe  scourge  hi  the  cause  of  the  faith  to  his  late 
associates  the  Thakefites. 

The  Moslems  now  began  to  fear  that  Mahomet,  in  these  mag- 
nanimous impulses,  might  squander  away  all  the  gains  of  their 
recent  battles ;  thronging  round  him,  therefore,  they  clamored 
for  a  division  of  the  spoils  and  captives.  Regarding  them 
indignantly,  "  Have  you  ever,"  said  he,  "  found  me  avaricious, 
or  false,  or  disloyal?"  Then  plucking  a  hair  from  the  back  of 
a  camel,  and  raising  his  voice,  "By  Allah!"  cried  he,  "I  have 
never  taken  from  the  common  spoil  the  value  of  that  camel's 
hair  more  than  my  fifth,  and  that  fifth  ha3  always  been  ex- 
pended for  your  good." 

He  then  shared  the  booty  as  usual ;  four  fifths  among  the 
troops;  but  his  own  fifth  he  distributed  among  those  whose 
fidelity  he  wished  to  insure.  The  Koreishites  he  considered 
dubious  allies;  perhaps  he  had  overheard  the  exultation  of 
«ome  of  them  in  anticipation  of  his  defeat ;  he  now  sought  to 
rivet  them  to  him  by  gifts.  To  Abu  Sofian  he  gave  one  hun- 
dred camels  and  forty  okks  of  silver,  in  compensation  for  the 
eye  lost  in  the  attack  on  the  gate  of  Tayef.  To  Akrema  Ibn 
Abu  Jahl,  and  others  of  like  note7  he  gave  in  due  proportions, 
and  all  from  his  own  share. 

Among  the  lukewarm  converts  thus  propitiated,  was  Abbas 
Ibn  Mardas,  a  poet.  He  was  dissatisfied  with  his  share,  and 
vented  his  discontent  in  satirical  verses.     Mahomet  overheard 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  163 

him.  "Take  that  man  hence,"  said  he,  "and  cut  out  his 
tongue."  Omar,  ever  ready  for  rigorous  measures,  would 
have  executed  the  sentence  literally,  and  on  the  spot;  but 
others,  better  instructed  in  the  prophet's  meaning,  led  Abbas, 
all  trembling,  to  the  public  square  where  the  captured  cattle 
were  collected,  and  bade  him  choose  what  he  liked  from  among 
them. 

"What!"  cried  the  poet  joyously,  relieved  from  the  horrors 
of  mutilation,  "  is  this  the  way  the  prophet  would  silence  my 
tongue?  By  Allah!  I  will  take  nothing."  Mahomet,  however, 
persisted  in  his  politic  generosity,  and  sent  him  sixty  camels. 
From  that  time  forward  the  poet  was  never  weary  of  chant- 
ing the  liberality  of  the  prophet. 

While  thus  stimulating  the  good-will  of  lukewarm  proselytes 
of  Mecca,  Mahomet  excited  the  murmurs  of  his  auxiliaries  of 
Medina.  "See,"  said  they,  "how  he  lavishes  gifts  upon  the 
treacherous  Koreishites,  while  we,  who  have  been  loyal  to  him 
through  all  dangers,  receive  nothing  but  our  naked  share. 
What  have  we  done  that  we  should  be  thus  thrown  into  the 
background?" 

Mahomet  was  told  of  their  murmurs,  and  summoned  their 
leaders  to  his  tent.  "  Hearken,  ye  men  of  Medina,"  said  he; 
"Avere  ye  not  in  discord  among  yourselves,  and  have  I  not 
brought  you  into  harmony?  Were  ye  not  in  error,  and  have 
I  not  brought  you  into  the  path  of  truth?  Were  ye  not  poor, 
and  have  I  not  made  you  rich?" 

They  acknowledged  the  truth  of  his  words.  "Look  ye!" 
continued  he,  "I  came  among  you  stigmatized  as  a  liar,  yet 
you  believed  in  me ;  persecuted,  yet  you  protected  me ;  a  fugi- 
tive, yet  you  sheltered  me ;  helpless,  yet  you  aided  me.  Think 
you  I  do  not  feel  all  this?  Think  you  I  can  be  ungrateful? 
You  complain  that  I  bestow  gifts  upon  these  people,  and  give 
none  to  you.  It  is  true,  I  give  them  worldly  gear,  but  it  is  to 
win  their  worldly  hearts.  To  you,  who  have  been  true,  I  give 
—myself !  They  return  home  with  sheep  and  camels ;  ye  re- 
turn with  the  prophet  of  God  among  you.  For  by  him  in 
whose  hands  is  the  soul  of  Mahomet,  though  the  whole  world 
should  go  one  way  and  ye  another,  I  would  remain  with  you ! 
Which  of  you,  then,  have  I  most  rewarded?" 

The  auxiliaries  were  moved  even  to  tears  by  this  appeal. 
"  Oh,  prophet  of  God,"  exclaimed  they,  "  we  are  content  with 
our  lot !" 

The  booty  being  divided,  Mahomet  returned  to  Mecca,  not 


164  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

with  the  parade  and  exultation  of  a  conqueror,  but  in  pilgrim 
garb,  to  complete  the  rites  of  his  pilgrimage.  All  these  being 
scrupulously  performed,  he  appointed  Moad  Ibn  Jabal  as  iman, 
or  pontiff,  to  instruct  the  people  in  tbe  doctrines  of  Islam,  and 
gave  the  government  of  the  city  into  the  hands  of  Otab,  a 
youth  but  eighteen  years  of  age ;  after  which  he  bade  farewell 
to  his  native  place,  and  set  out  with  his  troops  on  the  return 
to  Medina. 

Arriving  at  the  village  of  Al  Abwa,  where  his  mother  was 
buried,  his  heart  yearned  to  pay  a  filial  tribute  to  her  mem- 
ory, but  his  own  revealed  law  forbade  any  respect  to  the  grave 
of  one  who  had  died  in  unbelief.  In  the  strong  agitation  of  his 
feelings  he  implored  from  heaven  a  relaxation  of  this  law.  If 
there  was  any  deception  on  an  occasion  of  this  kind,  one  would 
imagine  it  must  have  been  self-deception,  and  that  he  really 
believed  in  a  fancied  intimation  from  heaven  relaxing  the  law, 
in  part,  in  the  present  instance,  and  permitting  him  to  visit 
the  grave.  He  burst  into  tears  on  arriving  at  this  trying  place 
of  the  tenderest  affections ;  but  tears  were  all  the  filial  tribute 
he  was  permitted  to  offer.  "I  asked  leave  of  God,"  said  he 
mournfully,  "to  visit  my  mother's  grave,  and  it  was  granted: 
but  when  I  asked  leave  to  pray  for  her,  it  was  denied  me !' 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

DEATH  OF  THE  PROPHET'S  DAUGHTER  ZEINAB— BIRTH  OP  HIS 
SON  IBRAHIM  — DEPUTATIONS  PROM  DISTANT  TRIBES— POETICAL 
CONTEST  IN  PRESENCE  OP  THE  PROPHET — HIS  SUSCEPTIBILITY 
TO  THE  CHARMS  OF  POETRY — REDUCTION  OV  THE  CITY  OP 
TAYEP;  DESTRUCTION  OF  ITS  IDOLS— NEGOTIATION  WITH  AMIR 
IBN  TAFIEL,  A  PROUD  BEDOUIN  CHIEF ;  INDEPENDENT  SPIRIT  OP 
THE  LATTER— INTERVIEW  OP  ADI,  ANOTHER  CHIEF,  WITH  MA- 
HOMET. 

Shortly  after  his  return  to  Medina,  Mahomet  was  afflicted 
by  the  death  of  his  daughter  Zcinab,  the  same  who  had  been 
given  up  to  him  in  exchange  for  her  husband  Abul  Anss,  the 
unbeliever,  captured  at  the  battle  of  Beder.  The  domestic 
affections  of  the  prophet  were  strong,  and  he  felt  deeply  this 
bereavement ;  he  was  consoled,  however,  by  the  birth  of  a  son, 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  165 

by  his  favorite  concubine  Mariyah.  He  called  the  child  Ibra- 
him, and  rejoiced  in  the  hope  that  this  son  of  his  old  age,  his 
oidy  male  issue  living,  would  continue  his  name  to  after  gen- 
erations. 

His  fame,  either  as  a  prophet  or  a  conqueror,  was  now 
spreading  to  the  uttermost  parts  of  Arabia,  and  deputations 
from  distant  tribes  were  continually  arriving  at  Medina,  some 
acknowledging  him  as  a  prophet  and  embracing  Islamism : 
others  submitting  to  him  as  a  temporal  sovereign,  and  agree- 
ing to  pay  tribute  The  talents  of  Mahomet  rose  to  the  exi- 
gency of  the  moment ;  his  views  expanded  with  his  fortunes, 
and  he  now  proceeded  with  statesmanlike  skill  to  regulate  the 
fiscal  concerns  of  his  rapidly  growing  empire.  Under  the 
specious  appellation  of  alms,  a  contribution  was  levied  on  true 
believers,  amounting  to  a  tithe  of  the  productions  of  the  earth, 
where  it  was  fertilized  by  brooks  and  rain ;  and  a  twentieth 
part  where  its  fertility  was  the  result  of  irrigation.  For  every 
ten  camels  two  sheep  were  required ;  for  forty  head  of  cattle, 
one  cow ;  for  thirty  head,  a  two  years'  calf ;  for  every  forty 
sheep,  one ;  whoever  contributed  more  than  at  this  rate  would 
be  considered  so  much  the  more  devout,  and  would  gain  a  pro- 
portionate favor  in  the  eyes  of  God. 

The  tribute  exacted  from  those  who  submitted  to  temporal 
sway,  but  continued  in  unbelief,  was  at  the  rate  of  one  dinar 
in  money  or  goods,  for  each  adult  person,  bond  or  free. 

Some  difficulty  occurred  in  collecting  the  charitable  contri- 
butions ;  the  proud  tribe  of  Tamim  openly  resisted  them,  and 
drove  away  the  collector.  A  troop  of  Arab  horse  was  sent 
against  them,  and  brought  away  a  number  of  men,  women, 
and  children,  captives.  A  deputation  of  the  Tamimites  came 
to  reclaim  the  prisoners.  Four  of  the  deputies  were  renowned 
as  orators  and  poets,  and  instead  of  humbling  themselves 
before  Mahomet,  proceeded  to  declaim  in  prose  and  verse, 
defying  the  Moslems  to  a  poetical  contest. 

"I  am  not  sent  by  God  as  a  poet,"  replied  Mahomet,  "  neither 
do  I  seek  fame  as  an  orator." 

Some  of  his  followers,  however,  accepted  the  challenge,  and 
a  war  of  ink  ensued,  in  which  the  Tamimites  acknowledged 
themselves  vanquished.  So  well  pleased  was  Mahomet  with 
the  spirit  of  their  defiance,  with  their  poetry,  and  with  their 
frank  acknowledgment  of  defeat,  that  he  not  merely  gave 
them  up  the  prisoners,  but  dismissed  them  with  presents. 

Another   instance  of   his    susceptibility  to  the  charms  of 


166  'MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

poetry  is  recorded  in  the  case  of  Caab  Ibn  Zohair,  a  celebrated 
poet  of  Mecca,  who  had  made  him  the  subject  of  satirical 
verses,  and  had  consequently  been  one  of  the  proscribed,  but 
had  fled  on  the  capture  of  the  sacred  city.  Caab  now  came  to 
Medina  to  make  his  peace,  and  approaching  Mahomet  when  in 
the  mosque,  began  chanting  his  praises  in  a  poem  afterward 
renowned  among  the  Arabs  as  a  masterpiece.  He  concluded 
by  especially  extolling  his  clemency,  "for  with  the  prophet  of 
God  the  pardon  of  injuries  is,  of  all  his  virtues,  that  on  which 
one  can  rely  with  the  greatest  certainty. " 

Captivated  with  the  verse,  and  soothed  by  the  flattery, 
Mahomet  made  good  the  poet's  words,  for  he  not  merely  for- 
gave him,  but  taking  off  his  own  mantle,  threw  it  upon  his 
shoulders.  The  poet  preserved  the  sacred  garment  to  the  day 
of  his  death,  refusing  golden  offers  for  it.  The  Caliph  Moa- 
wyah  purchased  it  of  his  heirs  for  ten  thousand  drachmas,  and 
it  continued  to  be  worn  by  the  Caliphs  in  processions  and 
solemn  ceremonials,  until  the  thirty-sixth  Calipha^,  when  it 
was  torn  from  the  back  of  the  Caliph  Al-Most'asem  Billah,  by 
Holaga,  the  Tartar  conqueror,  and  burnt  to  ashes. 

While  town  after  town  and  castle  after  castle  of  the  Arab 
tribes  were  embracing  the  faith,  and  professing  allegiance  to 
Mahomet.  Tayef,  the  stronghold  of  the  Thakcfites,  remained 
obstinate  in  the  worship  of  its  boasted  idol  Al  Lat.  The  in- 
habitants confided  in  their  mountain  position,  and  in  the 
strength  of  their  walls  and  castle.  But,  though  safe  from 
assault,  they  found  themselves  gradually  hemmed  in  and 
isolated  by  the  Moslems,  so  that  at  length  they  could  not  stir 
beyond  their  walls  without  being  attacked.  Thus  threatened 
and  harassed,  they  sent  ambassadors  to  Mahomet  to  treat  for 
peace. 

The  prophet  cherished  a  deep  resentment  against  this  stiff- 
necked  and  most  idolatrous  city,  which  had  at  one  time  ejected 
him  from  its  gates,  and  at  another  time  repidsed  him  from  its 
walls.  His  terms  were  conversion  and  unqualified  submission. 
The  ambassadors  readily  consented  to  embrace  Islamism  them- 
selves, but  pleaded  the  danger  of  suddenly  shocking  the  people 
of  Tayef,  by  a  demand  to  renounce  their  ancient  faith.  In 
their  name,  therefore,  they  entreated  permission  for  three 
years  longer  to  worship  their  ancient  idol  Al  Lat.  The  re- 
quest was  peremptorily  denied.  They  then  asked  at  least  one 
month's  delay,  to  prepare  the  public  mind.  This  likewise  was 
refused,  all  idolatry  being  incompatible  with  the  woi-ship  of 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  IQ~/ 

God.     They  then  entreated  to  be  excused  from  the  observance 
of  the  daily  prayers. 

•'There  can  be  no  true  religion  without  prayer,"  replied 
Mahomet.  In  fine,  they  were  compelled  to  make  an  uncon- 
ditional submission. 

Abu  Sofian,  Ibn  Harb,  and  Al  Mogheira  were  sent  to  Tayef, 
to  destroy  the  idol  Al  Lat,  which  was  of  stone.  Abu  Sofian 
struck  at  it  with  a  pickaxe,  but  missing  his  blow  fell  prostrate 
on  his  face.  The  populace  set  up  a  shout,  considering  it  a 
good  augury,  but  Al  Mogheira  demolished  their  hopes,  and 
tiie  statue,  at  one  blow  of  a  sledge-hammer.  He  then  stripped 
it  of  the  costly  robes,  the  bracelets,  the  necklace,  the  earrings, 
and  other  ornaments  of  gold  and  precious  stones  wherewith  it 
had  been  decked  by  its  worshippers,  and  left  it  in  fragments 
on  the  ground,  with  the  women  of  Tayef  weeping  and  lament- 
ing over  it.* 

Among  those  who  still  defied  the  power  of  Mahomet  was  the 
Bedouin  chief  Amir  Ibn  Tuficl,  head  of  the  powerful  tribe  of 
Amir.  He  was  renowned  for  personal  beauty  and  princely 
magnificence;  but  was  of  a  haughty  spirit,  and  Ms  magnifi- 
cence partook  of  ostentation.  At  the  great  fair  of  Okaz, 
between  Tayef  and  Naklah,  where  merchants,  pilgrims,  and 
poets  were  accustomed  to  assemble  from  all  parts  of  Arabia,  a 
herald  would  proclaim:  "Whoso  wants  a  beast  of  burden,  let 
him  come  to  Amir ;  is  any  one  hungry,  let  him  come  to  Amir, 
and  he  will  be  fed ;  is  he  persecuted,  let  him  fly  to  Amir,  and 
he  will  be  protected." 

Amir  had  dazzled  every  one  by  his  generosity,  and  his 
ambition  had  kept  pace  with  his  popularity.  The  rising 
power  of  Mahomet  inspired  him  with  jealousy.  When  ad- 
vised to  make  terms  with  him;  "I  have  sworn,"  replied  he 
haughtily,  "never  to  rest  until  I  had  won  all  Arabia;  and 
shall  I  do  homage  to  this  Koreishite  ?" 

The  recent  conquests  of  the  Moslems,  however,  brought  him 
to  listen  to  the  counsels  of  his  friends.  He  repaired  to  Medina, 
and  coming  into  the  presence  of  Mahomet,  demanded  frankly, 
"  Wilt  thou  be  my  friend  f" 


*  The  Thakefites  continue  a  powerful  tribe  to  this  day,  possessing  the  same  fer- 
tile region  on  the  eastern  declivity  of  the  Hedjas  chain  of  mountains.  Some  in. 
habit  the  ancient  town  of  Tayef,  others  dwell  in  tents  and  have  flocks  of  goats  and 
sheep.  They  can  raise  two  thousand  matchlocks,  and  defended  their  stronghold  of 
Tayef  in  the  ware  with  the  Wahabys. — BiuvkhardVs  Notes,  v.  3. 


168  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

"Never,  by  Allah!"  was  the  reply,  "unless  thou  dost  em- 
brace the  faith  of  Islam." 

"  And  if  I  do,  wilt  thou  content  thyself  with  the  sway  over 
the  Arabs  of  the  cities,  and  leave  to  me  the  Bedouins  of  the 
deserts?" 

Mahomet  replied  in  the  negative. 

"What,  then,  will  I  gain  by  embracing  thy  faith?" 

"The  fellowship  of  aU  true  believers." 

"  I  covet  no  such  fellowship!"  replied  the  proud  Amir;  and 
with  a  warlike  menace  he  returned  to  his  tribe. 

A  Bedouin  chieftain  of  a  different  character  was  Adi,  a  prince 
of  the  tribe  of  Tai' .  His  father  Hatim  had  been  famous,  not  mere- 
ly for  warlike  deeds,  but  for  boundless  generosity,  insomuch 
that  the  Arabs  were  accustomed  to  say,  "as  generous  as 
Hatim."  Adi  the  son  was  a  Christian;  and  however  he  might 
have  inherited  his  father's  generosity,  was  deficient  in  his 
valor.  Alarmed  at  the  ravaging  expeditions  of  the  Moslems, 
he  ordered  a  young  Arab,  who  tended  his  camels  in  the  desert^ 
to  have  several  of  the  strongest  and  fleetest  at  hand,  and  to 
give  instant  notice  of  the  approach  of  an  enemy. 

It  happened  that  Ali,  who  was  scouring  that  part  of  tne 
country  with  a  band  of  horsemen,  came  in  sight,  bearing  with 
him  two  banners,  one  white,  the  other  black.  The  young  Be- 
douin beheld  them  from  afar,  and  ran  to  Adi,  exclaiming, 
"The  Moslems  are  at  hand.  I  see  their  banners  at  a  distance !" 
Adi  instantly  placed  his  wife  and  children  on  the  camels,  and 
fled  to  Syria.  His  sister,  surnamed  Saffana,  or  the  Pearl,  fell 
into  the  hands  of  the  Moslems,  and  was  carried  with  other  cap- 
tives to  Medina.  Seeing  Mahomet  pass  near  to  the  place  of  her 
confinement,  she  cried  to  him: 

"  Have  pity  upon  me,  oh  ambassador  of  God !  My  father  is 
dead,  and  he  who  should  have  protected  has  abandoned  me. 
Have  pity  upon  me,  oh  ambassador  of  God,  as  God  may  have 
pity  upon  thee !" 

"  Who  is  thy  protector?"  asked  Mahomet. 

"Adi,  the  son  of  Hatim." 

"He  is  a  fugitive  from  God  and  his  prophet,"  replied  Maho- 
met, and  passed  on. 

On  the  following  day,  as  Mahomet  was  passing  by,  Ali,  who 
had  been  touched  by  the  woman's  beauty  and  her  grief,  whis- 
pered to  her  to  arise  and  entreat  the  prophet  once  more.  She 
accordingly  repeated  her  prayer.  ' '  Oh  prophet  of  God !  my 
father  is  dead;  my  brother,  who  should  have  been  my  pro- 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  109 

tector,  has  abandoned  me.  Have  mercy  upon  me,  as  God  will 
have  mercy  upon  thee." 

Mahomet  turned  to  him  henignantly.  "Be  it  so,"  said  he; 
and  he  not  only  set  her  free,  but  gave  her  raiment  and  a  camel, 
and  sent  her  by  the  first  caravan  bound  to  Syria. 

Arriving  in  presence  of  her  brother,  she  upbraided  him  with 
his  desertion.  He  acknowledged  his  fault,  and  was  forgiven. 
She  then  urged  him  to  make  his  peace  with  Mahomet;  "he  is 
truly  a  prophet,"  said  she,  "and  will  soon  have  universal 
sway;  hasten,  therefore,  in  time  to  win  his  favor." 

The  politic  Adi  listened  to  her  counsel,  and  hastening  to  Me- 
dina, greeted  the  prophet,  who  was  in  the  mosque.  His  own 
account  of  the  interview  presents  a  striking  picture  of  the  sim- 
ple manners  and  mode  of  life  of  Mahomet,  now  in  the  full  ex- 
ercise of  sovereign  power,  and  the  career  of  rapid  conquest. 
" He  asked  me,"  says  Adi,  "my  name,  and  when  I  gave  it,  in- 
vited me  to  accompany  him  to  his  home.  On  the  way  a  weak 
emaciated  woman  accosted  him.  He  stopped  and  talked  to  her 
of  her  affairs.  This,  thought  I  to  myself,  is  not  very  kingly. 
When  we  arrived  at  his  house  he  gave  me  a  leathern  cushion 
stuffed  with  palm-leaves  to  sit  upon,  while  he  sat  upon  the  baro 
ground.     This,  thought  I,  is  not  very  princely ! 

"  He  then  asked  me  three  times  to  embrace  Islamism.  I  re- 
plied, I  have  a  faith  of  my  own.  '  I  know  thy  faith, '  said  he, 
'  better  than  thou  dost  thyself.  As  prince,  thou  takest  one- 
fourth  of  the  booty  from  thy  people.  Is  this  Christian  doc- 
trine?' By  these  words  I  perceived  him  to  be  a  prophet,  who 
knew  more  than  other  men. 

"  '  Thou  dost  not  incline  to  Islamism,'  continued  he,  '  because 
thou  seest  we  are  poor.  The  time  is  at  hand  when  true  be- 
lievers will  have  more  wealth  than  they  will  know  how  to 
manage.  Perhaps  thou  art  deterred  by  seeing  the  small  num- 
ber of  the  Moslems  in  comparison  with  the  hosts  of  their  ene- 
mies. By  Allah!  in  a  little  while  a  Moslem  woman  will  be  able 
to  make  a  pilgrimage  on  her  camel,  alone  and  fearless,  from 
Kadesia  to  God's  temple  at  Mecca.  Thou  thinkest,  probably, 
that  the  might  is  in  the  hands  of  the  unbelievers ;  know  that 
the  time  is  not  far  off  when  we  will  plant  our  standards  on  the 
white  castles  of  Babylon.' "  * 

The  politic  Adi  believed  in  the  prophecy,  and  forthwith  em- 
braced the  faith. 

*  Weil's  Mohammed,  p.  247. 


170  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

PREPARATIONS  FOR  AN  EXPEDITION  AGAINST  SYRIA— INTRIGUES 
OF  ABDALLAH  IBN  OBBA — CONTRIBUTIONS  OF  THE  FAITHFUL- 
MARCH  OF  THE  ARMY— THE  ACCURSED  REGION  OF  HAJAR— 
ENCAMPMENT  AT  TABUC— SUBJUGATION  OF  THE  NEIGHBORING 
PROVINCES— KHALED  SURPRISES  OKAIDER  AND  HIS  CASTLE- 
RETURN    OF  THE  ARMY  TO  MEDINA. 

Mahomet  had  now,  either  by  conversion  or  conquest,  made 
himself  sovereign  of  almost  all  Arabia.  The  scattered  tribes 
heretofore  dangerous  to  each  other,  but  by  their  disunion  pow- 
erless against  the  rest  of  the  world,  he  had  united  into  one  na- 
tion, and  thus  fitted  for  external  conquest.  His  prophetic 
character  gave  him  absolute  control  of  the  formidable  power 
thus  conjured  up  in  the  desert,  and  he  was  now  prepared  to 
lead  it  forth  for  the  propagation  of  the  faith  and  the  extension 
of  the  Moslem  power  in  foreign  lands. 

His  numerous  victories,  and  the  recent  affair  at  Muta,  had  at 
length,  it  is  said,  roused  the  attention  of  the  Emperor  Herac- 
lius,  who  was  assembling  an  army  on  the  confines  of  Arabia 
to  crush  this  new  enemy.  Mahomet  determined  to  anticipate 
his  hostilities,  and  to  carry  the  standard  of  the  faith  into  the 
very  heart  of  Syria. 

Hitherto  he  had  undertaken  his  expeditions  with  secrecy, 
imparting  his  plans  and  intentions  to  none  but  his  most  con- 
fidential officers,  and  beguiling  his  followers  into  enterprises 
of  danger.  The  present  campaign,  however,  so  different  from 
the  brief  predatory  excursions  of  the  Arabs,  would  require 
great  preparations;  an  unusual  force  was  to  be  assembled,  and 
all  kinds  of  provisions  made  for  distant  marches,  and  a  long 
absence.  He  proclaimed  openly,  therefore,  the  object  and 
nature  of  the  enterprise. 

There  was  not  the  usual  readiness  to  flock  to  his  standard. 
Many  remembered  the  disastrous  affair  at  Muta,  and  dreaded 
to  come  again  in  conflict  with  disciplined  Roman  troops.  The 
time  of  year  also  was  unpropitious  for  such  a  distant  and  pro- 
longed expedition.  It  was  the  season  of  summer  heat;  the 
earth  was  parched,  and  the  springs  and  brooks  were  dried  up. 
The  date-harvest  too  was  approaching,  when  the  men  should 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  171 

be  at  home  to  gather  the  fruit,  rather  than  abroad  on  predatory 
enterprises. 

All  these  things  were  artfully  urged  upon  the  people  by  Ab- 
dallah  Ibn  Obba,  the  Khazradite,  who  continued  to  be  the  cov- 
ert enemy  of  Mahomet,  and  seized  every  occasion  to  counteract 
his  plans.  "A  fine  season  this,"  would  he  cry,  "  to  undertake 
such  a  distant  march  in  defiance  of  dearth  and  drought,  and  the 
fervid  heat  of  the  desert !  Mahomet  seems  to  think  a  war  with 
Greeks  quite  a  matter  of  sport ;  trust  me,  you  will  find  it  very 
different  from  a  war  of  Arab  against  Arab.  By  Allah !  Die- 
thinks  I  already  see  you  all  in  chains." 

By  these  and  similar  scoffs  and  suggestions,  he  wrought  upon 
the  fears  and  feelings  of  the  Khazradites,  his  partisans,  and 
rendered  the  enterprise  generally  unpopular.  Mahomet,  as 
usual,  had  resort  to  revelation.  "Those  who  would  remain 
behind,  and  refuse  to  devote  themselves  to  the  service  of  God," 
said  a  timely  chapter  of  the  Koran,  ' '  allege  the  summer  heat 
as  an  excuse.  Tell  them  the  fire  of  hell  is  hotter !  They  may 
hug  themselves  in  the  enjoyment  of  present  safety,  but  end- 
less tears  will  be  their  punishment  hereafter." 

Some  of  his  devoted  adherents  manifested  their  zeal  at  this 
lukewarm  moment.  Omar.  Al  Abbas,  and  Abda'lrahman  gave 
large  sums  of  money ;  several  female  devotees  brought  their 
ornaments  and  jewels.  Othman  delivered  one  thousand,  some 
say  ten  thousand,  dinars  to  Mahomet,  and  was  absolved  from 
his  sins,  past,  present,  or  to  come.  Abu  Beker  gave  four  thou- 
sand drachmas ;  Mahomet  hesitated  to  accept  the  offer,  know- 
ing it  to  be  all  that  he  possessed.  "What  will  remain,"  said 
he,  "for  thee  and  thy  family  ?"  " God  and  his  prophet,"  was 
the  reply. 

These  devout  examples  had  a  powerful  effect ;  yet  it  was  with 
much  difficulty  that  an  army  of  ten  thousand  horse  and  twenty 
thousand  foot  was  assembled.  Mahomet  now  appointed  Ah 
governor  of  Medina  during  his  absence,  and  guardian  of  both 
their  families.  He  accepted  the  trust  with  great  reluctance, 
having  been  accustomed  always  to  accompany  the  prophet,  and 
share  all  his  perils.  All  arrangements  being  completed,  Ma- 
homet inarched  forth  from  Medina  on  this  momentous  expedi- 
tion. A  part  of  his  army  was  composed  of  Khazradites  and 
their  confederates,  led  by  Abdallah  Ibn  Obba.  This  man,  whom 
Mahomet  had  well  denominated  the  Chief  of  the  Hypocrites, 
encamped  separately  with  his  adherents  at  night,  at  some 
distance  in  the  rear  of  the  main  army ;  and  when  the  latter 


172  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

marched  forward  in  the  morning,  lagged  behind,  and  led  his 
troops  back  to  Medina.  Repairing  to  Ali,  whose  dominion  in 
the  city  was  irksome  to  him  and  his  adherents,  he  endeavored 
to  make  him  discontented  with  his  position,  alleging  that  Ma- 
homet had  left  him  in  charge  of  Medina  solely  to  rid  himself 
of  an  incumbrance.  Stung  by  the  suggestion,  Ali  hastened 
after  Mahomet,  and  demanded  if  what  Abdallah  and  his  fol- 
lowers said  were  true. 

"These  men,"  replied  Mahomet,  "are  liars.  They  are  the 
party  of  Hypocrites  and  Doubters,  who  would  breed  sedition 
in  Medina.  I  left  thee  behind  to  keep  watch  over  them,  and  to 
be  a  guardian  to  both  our  families.  I  would  have  thee  to  be  to 
me  what  Aaron  was  to  Moses ;  excepting  that  thou  canst  not 
be,  like  him,  a  prophet ;  I  being  the  last  of  the  prophets."  With 
this  explanation,  Ali  returned  contented  to  Medina. 

Many  have  inferred  from  the  foregoing  that  Mahomet  in- 
tended Ali  for  his  Caliph  or  successor ;  that  being  the  significa- 
tion of  the  Arabic  word  used  to  denote  the  relation  of  Aaron 
to  Moses. 

The  troops  who  had  continued  on  with  Mahomet  soon  began 
to  experience  the  difficulties  of  braving  the  desert  in  this  sultry 
season.  Many  turned  back  on  the  second  day,  and  others  on 
the  third  and  fourth.  Whenever  word  was  brought  to  the 
prophet  of  their  desertion,  "Let  them  go,"  would  be  the  reply ; 
"if  they  are  good  for  anything  God  will  bring  them  back  to 
us;  if  they  are  not,  we  are  relieved  from  so  many  incum- 
brances." 

While  some  thus  lost  heart  upon  the  march,  others  who  had 
remained  at  Medina  repented  of  their  faint-heartedness.  One, 
named  Abu  Khaithama,  entering  his  garden  during  the  sultry 
heat  of  the  day,  beheld  a  repast  of  viands  and  fresh  water 
spread  for  him  by  his  two  wives  in  the  cool  shade  of  a  tent. 
Pausing  at  the  threshold,  "At  this  moment,"  exclaimed  he, 
"the  prophet  of  God  is  exposed  to  the  winds  and  heats  of  the 
desert,  and  shall  Khaithama  sit  here  in  the  shade  beside  his 
beautiful  wives  ?  By  Allah !  I  will  not  enter  the  tent  1"  He 
immediately  armed  himself  with  SAvord  and  lance,  and  mount- 
ing his  camel,  hastened  off  to  join  the  standard  of  the  faith. 

In  the  mean  time  the  army,  after  a  weary  march  of  seven 
days,  entered  the  mountainous  district  of  Hajar,  inhabited  in 
days  of  old  by  the  Thamudites,  one  of  the  lost  tribes  of  Arabia. 
It  was  the  accursed  region,  the  tradition  concerning  which  has 
already  been  related.     The  advance  of  the  army,   knowing 


MAHOMET  AND  JUS  SUCCHSSORS.  173 

nothing  of  this  tradition,  and  being  heated  and  fatigued,  be- 
held with  delight  a  brook  running  through  a  verdant  valley, 
and  cool  caves  cut  in  the  sides  of  the  neighboring  hills,  once 
the  abodes  of  the  heaven-smitten  Thamudites.  Halting  along 
the  brook,  some  prepared  to  bathe,  others  began  to  cook  and 
make  bread,  while  all  promised  themselves  cool  quarters  for 
the  night  in  the  caves. 

Mahomet,  in  marching,  had  kept,  as  was  his  wont,  in  the 
rear  of  the  army  to  assist  the  weak;  occasionally  talcing  up  a 
wayworn  laggard  behind  him.  Arriving  at  the  place  where 
the  troops  had  halted,  he  recollected  it  of  old,  and  the  tradi- 
tions concerning  it,  which  had  been  told  to  him  when  he  passed 
here  in  the  days  of  his  boyhood.  Fearful  of  incurring  the  ban 
which  hung  over  the  neighborhood,  he  ordered  his  troops  to 
throw  away  the  meat  cooked  with  the  water  of  the  brook,  to 
give  the  bread  kneaded  with  it  to  the  camels,  and  to  hurry 
away  from  the  heaven-accursed  place.  Then  wrapping  his  face 
in  the  folds  of  his  mantle,  and  setting  spurs  to  his  mule,  he 
hastened  through  that  sinful  region ;  the  army  following  him 
as  if  flying  from  an  enemy. 

The  succeeding  night  was  one  of  great  suffering ;  the  army 
had  to  encamp  without  water ;  the  weather  was  intensely  hot, 
with  a  parching  wind  from  the  desert ;  an  intolerable  thirst 
prevailed  throughout  the  camp,  as  though  the  Thamudite  ban 
still  hung  over  it.  The  next  day,  however,  an  abundant  rain 
refreshed  and  invigorated  both  man  and  beast.  The  march 
was  resumed  with  new  ardor,  and  the  army  arrived,  without 
further  hardship,  at  Tabuc,  a  small  town  on  the  confines  of  the 
Roman  empire,  about  half  way  between  Medina  and  Damascus, 
and  about  ten  days'  journey  from  either  city. 

Here  Mahomet  pitched  his  camp  in  the  neighborhood  of  a 
fountain,  and  in  the  midst  of  groves  and  pasturage.  Arabian 
traditions  affirm  that  the  fountain  was  nearly  dry,  insomuch 
that,  when  a  small  vase  was  filled  for  the  prophet,  not  a  drop 
was  left;  having  assuaged  his  thirst,  however,  and  made  his 
ablutions,  Mahomet  threw  what  remained  in  the  vase  back  into 
the  fountain ;  whereupon  a  stream  gushed  forth  sufficient  for 
the  troops  and  all  the  cattle. 

From  this  encampment  Mahomet  sent  out  his  captains  to 
proclaim  and  enforce  the  faith,  or  to  exact  tribute.  Some  of 
the  neighboring  princes  sent  embassies,  either  acknowledging 
the  divinity  of  his  mission  or  submitting  to  his  temporal  sway. 
One  of  these  was  Johanna  Ibn  Ruba,  prince  of  Eyla.  a  Chris- 


174  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

tian  city  near  the  Eed  Sea.  This  was  the  same  city  about 
which  the  tradition  is  told,  that  in  days  of  old,  when  its  in- 
habitants were  Jews,  the  old  men  were  turned  into  swine,  and 
the  young  men  into  monkeys,  for  fishing  on  the  Sabbath,  a 
judgment  solemnly  recorded  in  the  Koran. 

The  prince  of  Eyla  made  a  covenant  of  peace  with  Mahomet, 
agreeing  to  pay  an  annual  tribute  of  three  thousand  dinars  or 
crowns  of  gold.  The  form  of  the  covenant  became  a  precedent 
in  treating  with  other  powers. 

Among  the  Arab  princes  who  professed  the  Christian  faith, 
and  refused  to  pay  homage  to  Mahomet,  was  Okaider  Ibn 
Malec,  of  the  tribe  of  Kenda.  He  resided  in  a  castle  at  the 
foot  of  a  mountain,  in  the  midst  of  his  domain.  Khaled  was 
sent  with  a  troop  of  horse  to  bring  him  to  terms.  Seeing  the 
castle  was  too  strong  to  be  carried  by  assault,  he  had  recourse 
to  stratagem.  .  One  moonlight  night,  as  Okaider  and  his  wife 
were  enjoying  the  fresh  air  on  the  terraced  roof  of  the  castle, 
they  beheld  an  animal  grazing,  which  they  supposed  to  be  a 
wild  ass  from  the  neighboring  mountains.  Okaider,  who  was 
a  keen  huntsman,  ordered  horse  and  lance,  and  sallied  forth 
to  the  chase,  accompanied  by  his  brother  Hassan  and  several 
of  his  people.  The  wild  ass  proved  to  be  a  decoy.  They  had 
not  ridden  far  before  Khaled  and  his  men  rushed  from  am- 
bush and  attacked  them.  They  were  too  lightly  armed  to 
make  much  resistance.  Hassan  was  killed  on  the  spot,  and 
Okaider  taken  prisoner ;  the  rest  fled  back  to  the  castle,  which, 
however,  was  soon  surrendered.  The  prince  was  ultimately 
set  at  liberty  on  paying  a  heavy  ransom  and  becoming  a 
tributary. 

As  a  trophy  of  the  victory,  Khaled  sent  to  Mahomet  the  vest 
stripped  from  the  body  of  Hassan.  It  was  of  silk,  richly 
embroidered  with  gold.  The  Moslems  gathered  round,  and 
examined  it  with  admiration.  "Do  you  admire  this  vest?" 
said  the  prophet.  "I  swear  by  him  in  whose  hands  is  the 
soul  of  Mahomet,  the  vest  which  Saad,  the  son  of  Maadi, 
wears  at  this  moment  in  paradise,  is  far  more  precious."  This 
Saad  was  the  judge  who  passed  sentence  of  death  on  seven 
hundred  Jewish  captives  at  Medina,  at  the  conclusion  of  a 
former  campaign. 

His  troops  being  now  refreshed  by  the  sojourn  at  Tabuc, 
and  the  neighboring  country  being  brought  into  subjection, 
Mahomet  was  bent  upon  prosecuting  the  object  of  his  cam- 
paign, and  pushing  forward  into  the  heart  of  Syria.     His 


MAHOMET  AND  1118  SUCCESSORS.  175 

ardor,  however,  was  not  shared  by  his  followers.  Intelligence 
of  immense  bodies  of  hostile  troops,  assembled  on  the  Syrian 
borders,  had  damped  the  spirits  of  the  army.  Mahomet 
remarked  the  general  discouragement,  yet  was  loath  to 
abandon  the  campaign  when  but  half  completed.  Calling  a 
council  of  war,  he  propounded  the  question  whether  or  not 
to  continue  forward.  To  this  Omar  replied  dryly,  "If  thou 
hast  the  command  of  God  to  proceed  further,  do  so."  "  If  I 
had  the  command  of  God  to  proceed  further, "  observed  Ma- 
homet, "I  should  not  have  asked  thy  counsel." 

Omar  felt  the  rebuke.  He  then,  in  a  respectful  tone,  repre- 
sented the  impolicy  of  advancing  in  the  face  of  the  over- 
whelming force  said  to  be  collected  on  the  Syrian  frontier; 
he  represented,  also,  how  much  Mahomet  had  already  effected 
in  this  campaign.  He  had  checked  the  threatened  invasion  of 
the  imperial  arms,  and  had  received  the  homage  and  sub- 
mission of  various  tribes  and  people,  from  the  head  of  the  Red 
Sea  to  the  Euphrates :  he  advised  him,  therefore,  to  be  content 
for  the  present  year  with  what  he  had  achieved,  and  to  defer 
the  completion  of  the  enterprise  to  a  future  campaign. 

His  counsel  was  adopted ;  for,  whenever  Mahomet  was  not 
under  strong  excitement,  or  fancied  inspiration,  he  was  rather 
prone  to  yield  up  his  opinion  in  military  matters  to  that  of  his 
generals.  After  a  sojourn  of  about  twenty  days,  therefore,  at 
Tabuc,  he  broke  up  his  camp,  and  conducted  his  army  back  to 
Medina. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 


TRIUMPHAL  ENTRY  INTO  MEDINA — PUNISHMENT  OF  THOSE  WHO 
HAD  REFUSED  TO  JOIN  THE  CAMPAIGN — EFFECTS  OF  EXCOM- 
MUNICATION— DEATH  OF  ABDALLAH  IBN  OBBA — DISSENSIONS  OT 
THE   PROPHET'S  HAREM. 

The  entries  of  Mahomet  into  Medina  on  returning  from  hiis 
warlike  triumphs,  partook  of  the  simplicity  and  absence  of 
parade,  which  characterized  all  his  actions.  On  approaching 
the  city,  when  his  household  came  forth  with  the  multitude  to 
meet  him,  he  would  stop  to  greet  them,  and  take  up  the  chil- 
dren of  tbe  house  behind  him  on  his  horse.     It  was  in  this 


176  MAnOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

simple  way  he  entered  Medina,  or  returning  from  the  cam- 
paign against  Tabuc. 

The  arrival  of  an  army  laden  with  spoil,  gathered  in  the 
most  distant  expedition  ever  undertaken  by  the  soldiers  of 
Islam,  was  an  event  of  too  great  moment,  not  to  be  hailed 
with  triumphant  exultation  by  the  community.  Those  alone 
were  cast  down  in  spirit  who  had  refused  to  march  forth  with 
the  army,  or  had  deserted  it  when  on  the  march.  All  these 
were  at  first  placed  under  an  interdict ;  Mahomet  forbidding 
his  faithful  followers  to  hold  any  intercourse  with  therm 
Mollified,  however,  by  their  contrition  or  excuses,  he  gradually 
forgave  the  greater  part  of  them.  Seven  of  those  who  con- 
tinued under  interdict,  finding  themselves  cut  off  from 
communion  with  their  acquaintance,  and  marked  with  oppro- 
brium amid  an  exulting  community,  became  desperate,  and 
chained  themselves  to  the  walls  of  the  mosque,  swearing  to 
remain  there  until  pardoned.  Mahomet,  on  the  other  hand, 
swore  he  would  leave  them  there  unless  otherwise  commanded 
by  God.  Fortunately  he  received  the  command  in  a  revealed 
verse  of  the  Koran;  but,  in  freeing  them  from  their  self- 
imposed  fetters,  he  exacted  one  third  of  their  possessions,  to 
be  expended  in  the  service  of  the  faith. 

Among  those  still  under  interdict  were  Kaab  Ibn  Malec, 
Murara  Ibn  Rabia,  and  Hilal  Ibn  Omeya,  These  had  once 
been  among  the  most  zealous  of  professing  Moslems;  their 
defection  was,  therefore,  ten  times  more  heinous  in  the  eyes 
of  the  prophet,  than  that  of  their  neighbors,  whose  faith  had 
been  lukewarm  and  dubious.  Toward  them,  therefore,  he 
continued  implacable.  Forty  days  they  remained  interdicted, 
and  the  interdict  extended  to  communication  with  their  wives. 

The  account  given  by  Kaab  Ibn  Malec  of  his  situation, 
while  thus  excommunicated,  presents  a  vivid  picture  of  the 
power  of  Mahomet  over  the  minds  of  his  adherents.  Kaab 
declared  that  everybody  shunned  him,  or  regarded  him  with 
an  altered  mien.  His  two  companions  in  disgrace  did  not 
leave  their  homes;  he,  however,  went  about  from  place  to 
place,  but  no  one  spake  to  him.  He  sought  the  mosque,  sat 
down  near  the  prophet,  and  saluted  him,  but  his  salutation 
was  not  returned.  On  the  forty-first  day  came  a  command, 
that  he  should  separate  from  his  wife.  He  now  left  the  city, 
and  pitched  a  tent  on  the  hill  of  Sala,  determined  there  to 
undergo  in  its  severest  rigor  the  punishment  meted  out  to  him. 
His  heart,  however,  was  dying  away ;  the  wide  world,  he  said. 


MAHOMET  AND  11 IS  SUCCESSORS.  ]77 

appeared  to  grow  narrow  to  hini.  On  the  fifty-first  day  came 
a  messenger  holding  out  the  hope  of  pardon.  He  hastened  ti  >  * 
Medina,  and  sought  the  prophet  at  the  mosque,  who  received 
liini  with  a  radiant  countenance,  and  said  that  God  had  for- 
given him.  The  soul  of  Kaab  was  lifted  up  from  the  depths  of 
despondency,  and  in  the  transports  of  his  gratitude,  he  gave  a 
portion  of  his  wealth  in  atonement  of  his  error. 

Not  long  after  the  return  of  the  army  to  Medina,  Abdallah 
Ibn  Obba,  the  Khazradite,  "the  chief  of  the  Hypocrites,"  fell 
ill,  so  that  his  life  was  despaired  of.  Although  Mahomet  was 
well  aware  of  the  perfidy  of  this  man,  and  the  secret  arts  he 
had  constantly  practised  against  him,  he  visited  him  repeatedly 
during  his  illness;  was  with  him  at  his  dying  hour,  and  fol- 
lowed his  body  to  the  grave.  There,  at  the  urgent  entreaty  of 
the  son  of  the  deceased,  he  put  up  prayers  that  his  sins  might 
be  forgiven. 

Omar  privately  remonstrated  with  Mahomet  for  praying  for 
a  hypocrite ;  reminding  him  how  often  he  had  been  slandered 
by  Abdallah ;  but  he  was  shrewdly  answered  by  a  text  of  the 
Koran:  "Thou  mayest  pray  for  the  'Hypocrites'  or  not,  as 
thou  wilt ;  but  though  thou  shouldest  pray  seventy  times,  yet 
will  they  not  be  forgiven. " 

The  prayers  at  Abdallah's  grave,  therefore,  were  put  up  out 
of  policy,  to  win  favor  with  the  Khazradites,  and  the  powerful 
friends  of  the  deceased ;  and  in  this  respect  the  prayers  were 
successful,  for  most  of  the  adherents  of  the  deceased  became 
devoted  to  the  prophet,  whose  sway  was  thenceforth  undis- 
puted in  Medina.  Subsequently  he  announced  another  revela- 
tion, which  forbade  him  to  pray  by  the  death-bed  or  stand  by 
the  grave  of  any  one  who  died  in  unbelief. 

But  though  Mahomet  exercised  such  dominion  over  his  dis- 
ciples, and  the  community  at  large,  he  had  great  difficulty  in 
governing  his  wives,  and  maintaining  tranquillity  in  his 
harem.  He  appears  to  have  acted  with  tolerable  equity  in  his 
"connubial  concerns,  assigning  to  each  of  his  wives  a  separate 
habitation,  of  which  she  was  sole  mistress,  and  passing  the 
twenty -four  hours  with  them  by  turns.  It  so  happened,  that 
on  one  occasion,  when  he  was  sojourning  with  Hafsa,  the  latter 
left  her  dwelling  to  visit  her  father.  Keturning  unexpectedly, 
she  surprised  the  prophet  with  his  favorite  and  fortunate 
slave  Mariyah,  the  mother  of  his  son  Ibrahim.  The  jealousy 
of  Hafsa  was  vociferous.  Mahomet  endeavored  to  pacify  her, 
dreading  lest  her  outcries  should  rouse  his  whole  harem  to  re- 


178  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

bellion-,  but  she  was  only  to  be  appeased  by  an  oath  on  his 
part  never  more  to  cohabit  with  Mariyah.  On  these  terms  she 
forgave  the  past  and  promised  secrecy. 

She  broke  her  promise,  however,  and  revealed  to  Ayesha  the 
infidelity  of  the  prophet ;  and  in  a  little  while  it  was  known 
throughout  the  harem.  His  wives  now  united  in  a  storm  of 
reproaches ;  until,  his  patience  being  exhausted,  he  repudiated 
Hafsa,  and  renounced  all  intercourse  with  the  rest.  For  a 
month  he  lay  alone  on  a  mat  in  a  separate  apartment;  but 
Allah,  at  length,  in  consideration  of  his  lonely  state,  sent  down 
the  first  and  sixth  chapters  of  the  Koran,  absolving  him  from 
the  oath  respecting  Mariyah,  who  forthwith  became  the  com- 
panion of  his  solitary  chamber. 

The  refractory  wives  were  now  brought  to  a  sense  of  their 
error,  and  apprised  by  the  same  revelation,  that  the  restric- 
tions imposed  on  ordinary  men  did  not  apply  to  the  prophet. 
In  the  end  he  took  back  Hafsa,  who  was  penitent ;  and  he  was 
reconciled  to  Ayesha,  whom  he  tenderly  loved,  and  all  the  rest 
were  in  due  time  received  into  favor;  but  he  continued  to 
cherish  Mariyah,  for  she  was  fair  to  look  upon,  and  was  the 
mother  of  his  only  son. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

ABU    BEKEP    CONDUCTS    THE    YEARLY    TILGRIMAGE    TO    MECCA- 
MISSION  OF  ALI  TO  ANNOUNCE  A  REVELATION. 

The  sacred  month  of  yearly  pilgrimage  was  now  at  hand, 
but  Mahomet  was  too  much  occupied  with  public  and  domestic 
concerns  to  absent  himself  from  Medina:  he  deputed  Abu 
Beker,  therefore,  to  act  in  his  place  as  emir  or  commander  of 
the  pilgrims,  who  were  to  resort  from  Medina  to  the  holy  city. 
Abu  Beker  accordingly  departed  at  the  head  of  three  hunched 
pilgrims,  with  twenty  camels  for  sacrifice. 

Not  long  afterward,  Mahomet  summoned  his  son-in-law  and 
devoted  disciple  Ali,  and,  mounting  him  on  Al  Adha,  or  the 
slit-eared,  the  swiftest  of  his  camels,  urged  him  to  hasten  with 
all  speed  to  Mecca,  there  to  promidgate  before  the  multitude 
of  pilgrims  assembled  from  all  parts,  an  important  sura,  or 
chapter  of  the  Koran,  just  received  from  heaven. 

Ali  executed  his  mission  with  his  accustomed  zeal  and  fidel- 


MAHOMET  AND  1118  SUCCESSORS.  179 

ity.  He  reached  the  sacred  city  in  the  height  of  the  great 
religious  festival.  On  the  day  of  sacrifice,  when  the  cere- 
monies of  pilgrimage  were  completed  by  the  slaying  of  the 
victims  in  the  valley  of  Mina,  and  when  Abu  Beker  had 
preached  and  instructed  the  people  in  the  doctrines  and  rites 
of  Islamism,  Ali  rose  before  an  immense  multitude  assembled 
at  the  hill  Al  Akaba,  and  announced  himself  a  messenger  from 
the  prophet,  bearing  an  important  revelation.  He  then  read 
the  sura,  or  chapter  of  the  Koran,  of  which  he  was  the  bearer ; 
in  which  the  religion  of  the  sword  was  declared  in  all  its  rigor. 
It  absolved  Mahomet  from  all  truce  or  league  with  idolatrous 
and  other  unbelievers,  should  they  in  any  wise  have  been  false 
to  their  stipulations,  or  given  aid  to  his  enemies.  It  allowed 
unbelievers  four  months  of  toleration  from  the  time  of  this 
announcement,  during  which  months  they  might  "go  to  and 
fro  about  the  earth  securely,"  but  at  the  expiration  of  that 
time  all  indulgence  would  cease ;  war  would  then  be  made  in 
every  way,  at  every  time,  and  in  every  place,  by  open  force 
or  by  stratagem,  against  those  who  persisted  in  unbelief; 
no  alternative  would  be  left  them  but  to  embrace  the  faith 
or  pay  tribute.  The  holy  months  and  the  holy  places  would 
no  longer  afford  them  protection.  "When  the  months  where- 
in ye  are  not  allowed  to  attack  -them  shall  be  passed,"  said 
the  revelation,  "kill  the  idolatrous  wherever  ye  shall  find 
them,  or  take  them  prisoners;  besiege  them,  or  lay  in  wait  for 
them."  The  ties  of  blood  and  friendship  were  to  be  alike  dis- 
regarded; the  faithful  were  to  hold  no  communion  with  their 
nearest  relatives  and  dearest  friends,  should  they  persist  in 
idolatry.  After  the  expiration  of  the  current  year,  no  un- 
believer was  to  be  permitted  to  tread  the  sacred  bounds  of 
Mecca,  nor  to  enter  the  temple  of  Allah,  a  prohibition  which 
continues  to  the  present  day. 

This  stringent  chapter  of  the  Koran  is  thought  to  have  been 
provoked,  in  a  great  measure,  by  the  conduct  of  some  of  the 
Jewish  and  idolatrous  Arabs,  with  whom  Mahomet  had  made 
covenants,  but  who  had  repeatedly  played  him  false,  and  even 
made  treacherous  attempts  upon  his  life.  It  evinces,  however, 
the  increased  confidence  he  felt  in  consequence  of  the  death  of 
his  insidious  and  powerful  foe,  Abdallah  Ibn  Obba,  and  the 
rapid  conversion  or  subjugation  of  the  Arab  tribes.  It  was,  in 
fact,  a  decisive  blow  for  the  exclusive  domination  of  his  faith. 

When  Abu  Beker  and  Ali  returned  to  Mecca,  the  former  ex- 
pressed surprise  and  dissatisfaction  that  he  had  not  been  made 


4 

ISO  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

the  promulgator*  of  so  important  a  revelation,  as  it  seemed  to 
be  connected  with  his  recent  mission,  but  he  was  pacified  by 
the  assurance  that  all  new  revelations  must  be  announced  by 
the  prophet  himself ,  or  by  some  one  of  his  immediate  family, 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

MAHOMET  SENDS  HIS  CAPTAINS  ON  DISTANT  ENTERPRISES — AP- 
POINTS LIEUTENANTS  TO  GOVERN  IN  ARABIA  FELIX— SENDS  ALI 
TO  SUPPRESS  AN  INSURRECTION  IN  THAT  PROVINCE — DEATH  OP 
THE  PROPHET'S  ONLY  SON  IBRAHIM— HIS  CONDUCT  AT  THE 
DEATH-BED  AND  THE  GRAVE— HIS  GROWING  INFIRMITIES— HIS 
VALEDICTORY  PILGRIMAGE  TO  MECCA,  AND  HIS  CONDUCT  AND 
PREACHING  WHILE  THERE. 

The  promulgation  of  the  last-mentioned  chapter  of  the 
Koran,  with  the  accompanying  denunciation  of  exterminating 
war  against  all  who  should  refuse  to  believe  or  submit,  pro- 
duced hosts  of  converts  and  tributaries;  so  that,  toward  the 
close  of  the  month,  and  in  the  beginning  of  the  tenth  year  of 
the  Hegira,  the  gates  of  Medina  were  thronged  with  envoys 
from  distant  tribes  and  princes.  Among  those  who  bowed  to 
the  temporal  power  of  the  prophet  was  Farwa,  lieutenant  of 
Heraclius,  in  Syria,  and  governor  of  Amon,  the  ancient  capital 
of  the  Ammonites.  His  act  of  submission,  however,  was  dis- 
avowed by  the  emperor,  and  punished  with  imprisonment. 

Mahomet  felt  and  acted  more  and  more  as  a  sovereign,  but 
his  grandest  schemes  as  a  conqueror  were  always  sanctified  by 
his  zeal  as  an  apostle.  His  captains  were  sent  on  more  distant 
expeditions  than  formerly,  but  it  was  always  with  a  view  to 
destroy  idols  and  bring  idolatrous  tribes  to  subjection ;  so  that 
his  temporal  power  but  kept  pace  with  the  propagation  of  his 
faith.  He  appointed  two  lieutenants  to  govern  in  his  name  in 
Arabia  Felix ;  but  a  portion  of  that  rich  and  important  coun- 
try having  shown  itself  refractory,  Ah  was  ordered  to  repair 
thither  at  the  head  of  three  hundred  horsemen,  and  bring  the 
inhabitants  to  reason. 

The  youthful  disciple  expressed  a  becoming  diffidence  to  un- 
dertake a  mission  where  he  would  have  to  treat  with  men  far 
older  and  wiser  than  himself;  but  Mahomet  laid  one  hand 
upon  his  lips,  and  the  other  upon  his  breast,  and  raising  his 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  181 

eyes  to  heaven,  exclaimed,  "Oh,  Allah!  loosen  Ms  tongue  and 
guide  his  heart!"  He  gave  Mm  one  rule  for  Ms  conduct  as 
a  judge.  "When  two  parties  come  before  thee,  never  pro- 
nounce in  favor  of  one  until  thou  hast  heard  the  other."  Then 
giving  into  Ms  hands  the  standard  of  the  faith,  and  placing  the 
turban  on  Ms  head,  he  bade  him  farewell. 

When  the  mihtary  missionary  arrived  in  the  heretical  re- 
gion of  Yemen,  his  men,  mdulgmg  their  ancient  Arab  propen- 
sities, began  to  sack,  to  plunder,  and  destroy.  Ali  checked 
their  excesses,  and  arresting  the  fugitive  inhabitants,  began  to 
expound  to  them  the  doctrines  of  Islam.  His  tongue,  though 
so  recently  consecrated  by  the  prophet,  failed  to  carry  convic- 
tion, for  he  was  answered  by  darts  and  arrows ;  whereupon  he 
returned  to  the  old  argument  of  the  sword,  wluch  he  urged 
with  such  efficacy  that,  after  twenty  unbelievers  had  been 
slain,  the  rest  avowed  themselves  thoroughly  convinced.  This 
zealous  achievement  was  followed  by  others  of  a  similar  kind, 
after  each  of  which  he  dispatched  messengers  to  the  prophet, 
announcing  a  new  triumph  of  the  faith. 

While  Mahomet  was  exulting  in  the  tidings  of  success  from 
every  quai'ter,  he  was  stricken  to  the  heart  by  one  of  the 
severest  of  domestic  bereavements.  Ibrahim,  his  son  by  his 
favorite  concubine  Mariyah,  a  child  but  fifteen  months  old, 
his  oMy  male  issue,  on  whom  reposed  his  hope  of  transmitting 
his  name  to  posterity,  was  seized  with  a  mortal  malady,  and 
expired  before  his  eyes.  Mahomet  could  not  control  a  father's 
feelings  as  he  bent  in  agony  over  this  blighted  blossom  of  his 
hopes.  Yet  even  in  this  trying  hour  he  showed  that  submis- 
sion to  the  will  of  God  which  formed  the  foundation  of  his 
faith.  "My  heart  is  sad,"  murmured  he,  "and  mine  eyes 
overflow  with  tears  at  partmg  with  thee,  oh,  my  son !  And 
still  greater  would  be  my  grief,  did  I  not  know  that  I  must 
soon  follow  thee ;  for  we  are  of  God ;  from  Mm  we  came,  and 
to  hhn  we  must  return." 

Abda'lrahman  seeing  hhn  in  tears,  demanded:  "Hast  thou 
not  forbidden  us  to  weep  for  the  dead?"  "No,"  replied  the 
prophet.  "I  have  forbidden  ye  to  utter  shrieks  and  outcries, 
to  beat  your  faces  and  rend  your  garments :  these  are  sugges- 
tions of  the  evil  one ;  but  tears  shed  for  a  calamity  are  as  balm 
to  the  heart,  and  are  sent  in  mercy." 

He  followed  his  child  to  the  grave,  where  amidst  the  agonies 
of  separation,  he  gave  another  proof  that  the  elements  of  Ms 
religion  were  ever  present  to  his  mind.     "My  son!  my  son!" 


182  MAROMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

exclaimed  he  as  the  body  was  committed  to  the  tomb,  "say 
God  is  my  Lord !  the  prophet  of  God  was  my  father,  and  Islam- 
ism  is  my  faith !"  This  was  to  prepare  his  child  for  the  ques- 
tioning by  examining  angels,  as  to  religious  belief,  which, 
according  to  Moslem  creed,  the  deceased  would  undergo  while 
in  the  grave.* 

An  eclipse  of  the  sun  which  happened  about  that  time  was 
interpreted  by  some  of  his  zealous  followers  as  a  celestial  sign 
of  mourning  for  the  death  of  Ibrahim ;  but  the  afflicted  father 
rejected  such  obsequious  flattery.  "The  sun  and  the  moon," 
said  he,  ' '  are  among  the  wonders  of  God,  through  which  at 
times  he  signifies  his  will  to  his  servant;  but  their  eclipse  has 
nothing  to  do  either  with  the  birth  or  death  of  any  mortal. " 

The  death  of  Ibrahim  was  a  blow  which  bowed  him  toward 
the  grave.  His  constitution  was  already  impaired  by  the  ex- 
traordinary excitements  and  paroxysms  of  his  mind,  and  the 
physical  trials  to  which  he  had  been  exposed ;  the  poison,  too, 
administered  to  him  at  Khaibar  had  tainted  the  springs  of  life, 
subjected  him  to  excruciating  pains,  and  brought  on  a  prema- 
ture old  age.  His  religious  zeal  took  the  alarm  from  the  increase 
of  bodily  infirmities,  and  he  resolved  to  expend  his  remaining 
strength  in  a  final  pilgrimage  to  Mecca,  intended  to  serve  as  a 
model  for  all  future  observances  of  the  kind. 

The  announcement  of  his  pious  intention  brought  devotees 
from  all  parts  of  Arabia,  to  follow  the  pilgrim-prophet.  The 
streets  of  Medina  were  crowded  with  the  various  tribes  from 
the  towns  and  cities,  from  the  fastnesses  of  the  mountains,  and 
the  remote  parts  of  the  desert,  and  the  surrounding  valleys 
were  studded  with  their  tents.  It  was  a  striking  picture  of  the 
triumph  of  a  faith,  these  recently  disunited,  barbarous,  and 


*  One  of  the  funeral  rites  of  the  Moslems  is  for  the  Mulakken  or  priest  to  address 
the  deceased  when  in  the  grave,  in  the  following  words:  "  O  servant  of  God !  O  son 
of  a  handmaid  of  God!  know  that,  at  this  time,  there  will  come  down  to  thee  two 
angels  commissioned  respecting  thee  and  the  like  of  thee;  when  they  say  to  thee, 
'Who  i.s  thy  Lord!'  answer  them,  'God  is  my  Lord;'  in  truth,  and  when  they  ask 
thee  concerning  thy  prophet,  or  the  man  who  hath  been  sent  unto  you,  say  to  them, 
'  Mahomet  is  the  apostle  of  God,'  with  veracity,  and  when  they  ask  thee  concerning 
thy  religion,  say  to  them,  'Islamism  is  my  religion.'  And  when  they  ask  thee  con- 
cerning thy  book  of  direction,  say  to  them, '  The  Koran  is  my  book  of  direction,  and 
the  Moslems  are  my  brothers;'  and  when  they  ask  thee  concerning  thy  Kebla,  say 
to  them,  '  The  Caaba  is  my  Kebla,  and  I  have  lived  and  died  in  the  assertion  that 
there  is  no  deity  but  God,  and  Mahomet  is  God's  apostle,'  and  they  will  say,  '  Sleep, 
O  servant  of  God,  Ln  the  protection  of  Godl'  " — See  Lime's  Modem  Egyptians,  vol 
ii.  p.  338. 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  183 

warring  tribos  brought  together  as  brethren,  and  inspired  by 
one  sentiment  of  religious  zeal. 

Mahomet  was  accompanied  on  this  occasion  by  his  nine 
wives,  who  were  transported  on  litters.  He  departed  at  the 
head  of  an  immense  train,  some  say  of  fifty-five,  others  ninety, 
and  others  a  hundred  and  fourteen  thousand  pilgrims.  There 
was  a  large  number  of  camels  also,  decorated  with  garlands  of 
flowers  and  fluttering  streamers,  intended  to  be  offered  up  in 
sacrifice. 

The  first  night's  halt  was  a  few  miles  from  Medina,  at  the 
village  of  Dhu'l  Holaifa,  where,  on  a  former  occasion,  he  and 
his  followers  had  laid  aside  their  weapons  and  assumed  the 
pilgrim  garb.  Early  on  the  following  morning,  after  praying 
hi  the  mosque,  he  mounted  his  camel,  Al  Aswa,  and  entering 
the  plain  of  Bai'da,  uttered  the  prayer  or  invocation  called  in 
Arabic  Talbijah,  in  which  he  was  joined  by  all  his  followers. 
The  following  is  the  import  of  this  solemn  invocation:  "  Here 
am  I  in  thy  service,  oh  God !  Here  am  I  in  thy  service !  Thou 
hast  no  companion.  To  thee  alone  belongeth  worship.  From 
thee  cometh  all  good.  Thine  alone  is  the  kingdom.  There  is 
none  to  share  it  with  thee." 

This  prayer,  according  to  Moslem  tradition,  was  uttered  by 
the  patriarch  Abraham,  when,  from  the  top  of  the  hill  of  Ku- 
beis,  near  Mecca,  he  preached  the  true  faith  to  the  whole  hu- 
man race,  and  so  wonderful  was  the  power  of  his  voice  that  it 
was  heard  by  every  living  being  throughout  the  world ;  inso- 
much that  the  very  child  in  the  womb  responded,  "Here  am  I 
in  thy  service,  oh  God !" 

In  this  way  the  pilgrim  host  pursued  its  course,  winding  in 
a  lengthened  train  of  miles,  over  mountain  and  valley,  and 
making  the  deserts  vocal  at  times  with  united  prayers  and 
ejaculations.  There  were  no  longer  any  hostile  armies  to  im- 
pede or  molest  it,  for  by  this  time  the  Islam  faith  reigned  se- 
renely over  all  Arabia.  Mahomet  approached  the  sacred  city 
over  the  same  heights  which  he  had  traversed  in  capturing  it, 
and  he  entered  through  the  gate  Beni  Scheiba,  which  still  bears 
the  name  of  The  Holy. 

A  few  days  after  his  arrival  he  was  joined  by  Ali,  who  had 
hastened  back  from  Yemen;  and  who  brought  with  him  a 
number  of  camels  to  be  slain  in  sacrifice. 

As  this  was  to  be  a  model  pilgrimage,  Mahomet  rigorously 
observed  all  the  rites  which  he  had  continued  in  compliance 
with  patriarchal  usage,  or  introduced  in  compliance  with  reve- 


184  MAHOMET  AND  EIS  SUCCESSORS. 

lation.  Being  too  weak  and  infirm  to  go  on  foot,  he  mounted 
his  camel,  and  thus  performed  the  circuits  round  the  Caaba, 
and  the  journeyings  to  and  fro,  between  the  hills  of  Safa  and 
Merwa. 

When  the  camels  were  to  be  offered  up  in  sacrifice,  he  slew 
sixty-three  with  his  own  hand,  one  for  each  year  of  his  age, 
and  Ali,  at  the  same  time,  slew  thirty-seven  on  his  own  ac- 
count. 

Mahomet  then  shaved  his  head,  beginning  on  the  right  side 
and  ending  on  the  left.  The  locks  thus  shorn  away  were 
equally  divided  among  his  disciples,  and  treasured  up  as  sacred 
relics.  Khaled  ever  afterward  wore  one  in  his  turban,  and 
affirmed  that  it  gave  him  supernatural  strength  in  battle. 

Conscious  that  life  was  waning  away  within  him,  Mahomet, 
during  this  last  sojourn  in  the  sacred  city  of  his  faith,  sought 
to  engrave  his  doctrines  deeply  in  the  minds  and  hearts  of  bis 
followers.  For  this  purpose  he  preached  frequently  in  the 
Caaba  from  the  pulpit,  or  in  the  open  air  from  the  back  of  his 
camel.  "Listen  to  my  words,"  would  he  say,  "for  I  know 
not  whether,  after  this  year,  we  shall  ever  meet  here  again. 
Oh,  my  hearers,  I  am  but  a  man  like  yourselves;  the  angel  of 
death  may  at  any  time  appear,  and  I  must  obey  his  summons." 

He  would  then  proceed  to  inculcate  not  merely  religious  doc- 
trines and  ceremonies,  but  rules  for  conduct  in  all  the  concerns 
of  lif e,  public  and  domestic ;  and  the  precepts  laid  down  and 
enforced  on  this  occasion  have  had  a  vast  and  durable  influ- 
ence on  the  morals,  manners,  and  habitudes  of  the  whole  Mos- 
lem world. 

It  was  doubtless,  in  view  of  his  approaching  end,  and  in 
solicitude  for  the  welfare  of  his  relatives  and  friends  after  his 
death,  and  especially  of  his  favorite  Ali,  who,  he  perceived,  had 
given  dissatisfaction  in  the  conduct  of  his  recent  campaign  in 
Yemen,  that  he  took  occasion,  during  a  moment  of  strong  ex- 
citement and  enthusiasm  among  his  hearers,  to  address  to  them 
a  solemn  adjuration. 

"  Ye  believe,"  said  he,  "  that  there  is  but  one  God ;  that  Ma- 
homet is  his  prophet  and  apostle ;  that  paradise  and  hell  are 
truths ;  that  death  and  the  resurrection  are  certain ;  and  that 
there  is  an  appointed  time  when  all  who  rise  from  the  grave 
must  be  brought  to  judgment." 

They  all  answered,  "  We  believe  these  things."  He  then  ad- 
jured them  solemnly  by  these  dogmas  of  their  faith  ever  to 
hold  his  family,  and  especially  Ali,  in  love  and  reverence. 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  ]85 

"Whoever  loves  me,"  said  he,  "let  him,  receive  Ali  as  his 
friend.  May  God  uphold  those  who  befriend  him,  and  may  he 
turn  from  his  enemies." 

It  was  at  the  conclusion  of  one  of  his  discourses  in  the  open 
air,  from  the  back  of  his  camel,  that  the  famous  verse  of  the 
Koran  is  said  to  have  come  down  from  heaven  in  the  very 
voice  of  the  Deity.  ' '  Evil  to  those  this  day,  who  have  denied 
your  religion.  Fear  them  not ;  fear  me.  This  day  I  have  per- 
fected your  religion,  and  accomplished  in  you  my  grace.  It  is 
my  good  pleasure  that  Islamism  be  your  faith." 

On  hearing  these  words,  say  the  Arabian  historians,  the 
camel  Al  Karwa,  on  which  the  prophet  was  seated,  fell  on  its 
knees  in  adoration.  These  words,  add  they,  were  the  seal  and 
conclusion  of  the  law,  for  after  them  there  were  no  further 
revelations. 

Having  thus  fulfilled  all  the  rites  and  ceremonies  of  pilgrim- 
age, and  made  a  full  exposition  of  his  faith,  Mahomet  bade  a 
last  farewell  to  his  native  city,  and,  putting  himself  at  the 
head  of  his  pilgrim  army,  set  out  on  his  return  to  Medina. 

As  he  came  in  sight  of  it,  he  lifted  up  his  voice  and  ex- 
claimed, "  God  is  great !  God  is  great !  There  is  but  one  God ; 
he  has  no  companion.  His  is  the  kingdom.  To  him  alone  be- 
longeth  praise.  He  is  almighty.  He  hath  fulfilled  his  prom- 
ise. He  has  stood  by  his  servant,  and  alone  dispersed  his 
enemies.  Let  us  return  to  our  homes  and  worship  and  praise 
him!" 

Thus  ended  what  has  been  termed  the  valedictory  pilgrim- 
age, being  the  last  made  by  the  prophet. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

OF  THE  TWO  FALSE  PROPHETS  AL  ASWAD  AND  MOSEILMA. 

The  health  of  Mahomet  continued  to  decline  after  his  return 
to  Medina ;  nevertheless  his  ardor  to  extend  his  religious  em- 
pire was  nnabated,  and  he  prepared,  on  a  great  scale,  for  the 
invasion  of  Syria  and  Palestine.  While  he  was  meditating 
foreign  conquest,  however,  two  rival  prophets  arose  to  dispute 
his  sway  in  Arabia.  One  was  named  Al  Aswad,  the  other 
Moseilma;  they  received  from  the  faithful  the  well-merited 
appellation  of  ' '  The  two  Liars. " 


188  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

Al  Aswad,  a  quick-witted  man,  and  gifted  with  persuasive 
eloquence,  was  originally  an  idolater,  then  a  convert  to  Islam- 
ism,  from  which  he  apostatized  to  set  up  for  a  prophet,  and 
establish  a  religion  of  his  own.  His  fickleness  in  matters  of 
faith  gained  him  the  appellation  of  Ailhala,  or  "  The  Weather- 
cock." In  emulation  of  Mahomet  he  pretended  to  receive 
revelations  from  heaven  through  the  medium  of  two  angels. 
Being  versed  in  juggling  arts  and  natural  magic,  he  astonished 
and  confounded  the  multitude  with  spectral  illusions,  which 
he  passed  off  as  miracles,  insomuch  that  certain  Moslem  writ- 
ers believe  he  was  really  assisted  by  two  evil  genii  or  demons. 
His  schemes,  for  a  time,  were  crowned  with  great  success, 
which  shows  how  unsettled  the  Arabs  were  in  those  days  in 
matters  of  rehgion,  and  how  ready  to  adopt  any  new  faith. 

Budhan,  the  Persian  whom  Mahomefc  had  continued  as 
viceroy  of  Arabia  Felix,  died  in  this  year;  whereupon  Al 
Aswad,  now  at  the  head  of  a  powerful  sect,  slew  his  son  and 
successor,  espoused  his  widow  after  putting  her  father  to 
death,  and  seized  upon  the  reins  of  government.  The  people 
of  Najran  invited  him  to  their  city ;  the  gates  of  Sanaa,  the 
capital  of  Yemen,  were  likewise  thrown  open  to  him,  so  that, 
in  a  little  while,  all  Arabia  Felix  submitted  to  his  sway. 

The  news  of  this  usurpation  found  Mahomet  suffering  in  the 
first  stages  of  a  dangerous  malady,  and  engrossed  by  prepara- 
tions for  the  Syrian  invasion.  Impatient  of  any  interruption 
to  his  plans,  and  reflecting  that  the  whole  danger  and  difficulty 
in  question  depended  upon  the  life  of  an  individual,  he  sent 
orders  to  certain  of  his  adherents,  who  were  about  Al  Aswad, 
to  make  way  with  him  openly  or  by  stratagem,  either  way 
being  justifiable  against  enemies  of  the  faith,  according  to  the 
recent  revelation  promulgated  by  Ah.  Two  persons  under- 
took the  task,  less,  however,  through  motives  of  religion  than 
revenge.  One,  named  Rais,  had  received  a  mortal  offence 
from  the  usurper;  the  other,  named  Firuz  the  Dai'lemite, 
was  cousin  to  Al  Aswad's  newly  espoused  wife  and  nephew 
of  her  murdered  father.  They  repaired  to  the  woman,  whose 
marriage  with  the  usurper  had  probably  been  compulsory, 
and  urged  upon  her  the  duty,  according  to  the  Arab  law  of 
blood,  of  avenging  the  deaths  of~her  father  and  her  former 
husband.  With  much  difficulty  they  prevailed  upon  her  to 
facilitate  their  entrance  at  the  dead  of  night  into  the  cham- 
ber of  Al  Aswad,  who  was  asleep.  Firuz  stabbed  him  in 
the  throat  with  a  poniard.     The  blow  was  not  effectual      Al 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  187 

Aswad  started  up,  and  his  cries  alarmed  the  guard.  His  wife, 
however,  went  forth  and  quieted  them.  "The  prophet,"  said 
she,  "is  under  the  influence  of  divine  inspiration."  By  this 
tune  the  cries  had  ceased,  for  the  assassins  had  stricken  off 
the  head  of  their  victim.  When  the  day  dawned  the  standard 
of  Mahomet  floated  once  more  on  the  walls  of  the  city,  and 
a  herald  proclaimed,  by  sound  of  trumpet,  the  death  of  Al 
Aswad,  otherwise  called  the  Liar  and  Impostor.  His  career  of 
power  began  and  was  terminated  within  the  space  of  four 
months.  The  people,  easy  of  faith,  resumed  Islamism  with  as 
much  facility  as  they  had  abandoned  it. 

Moseilma,  the  other  impostor,  was  an  Arab  of  the  tribe  of 
Honcifa,  and  ruled  over  the  city  and  province  of  Yamama, 
situated  between  the  Red  Sea  and  the  Gulf  of  Persia.  In  the 
ninth  year  of  the  Hegira  he  had  come  to  Mecca  at  the  head  of 
an  embassy  from  his  tribe,  and  had  made  profession  of  faith 
between  the  hands  of  Mahomet;  but,  on  returning  to  his  own 
country,  had  proclaimed  that  God  had  gifted  him  likewise 
with  prophecy,  and  appointed  Mm  to  aid  Mahomet  in  convert- 
ing the  human  race.  To  this  effect  he  likewise  wrote  a  Koran, 
which  he  gave  forth  as  a  volume  of  inspired  truth.  His  creed 
was  noted  for  giving  the  soul  a  humiliating  residence  in  the 
region  of  the  abdomen.  Being  a  man  of  influence  and  address, 
he  soon  made  hosts  of  converts  among  his  credulous  country- 
men. Rendered  confident  by  success,  he  addressed  an  epistle 
to  Mahomet,  beginning  as  follows : 

"  From  Moseilma  the  prophet  of  Allah,  to  Mahomet  the  pro- 
phet of  Allah !  Come  now,  and  let  us  make  a  partition  of  the 
world,  and  let  half  be  thine  and  half  be  mine." 

This  letter  came  also  to  the  hands  of  Mahomet  while  bowed 
down  by  infirmities  and  engrossed  by  military  preparations. 
He  contented  himself  for  the  present  with  the  following  reply: 

"  From  Mahomet  the  prophet  of  God,  to  Moseilma  the  Liar ! 
The  earth  is  the  Lord's,  and  he  giveth  it  as  an  inheritance  to 
such  of  his  servants  as  find  favor  in  his  sight.  Happy  shall 
those  be  who  live  in  his  fear. " 

In  the  urgency  of  other  affairs,  the  usurpation  of  Moseilma 
remained  unchecked.  His  punishment  was  reserved  for  a 
future  day. 


188  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 


CHAPTEE  XXXVIII. 

AN  ARMY  PREPARED  TO  MARCH  AGAINST  SYRIA— COMMAND  GIVEN 
TO  OSAMA — THE  PROPHET'S  FAREWELL  ADDRESS  TO  THE  TROOP? 
— HIS  LAST  ILLNESS— HIS  SERMONS  IN  THE  MOSQUE— HIS  DEATU 
AND  THE  ATTENDING  CIRCUMSTANCES. 

It  was  early  in  the  eleventh  year  of  the  Hegira  that,  after 
unusual  preparations,  a  powerful  army  was  ready  to  march 
for  the  invasion  of  Syria.  It  would  almost  seem  a  proof  of 
the  failing  powers  of  Mahomet's  mind,  that  he  gave  the  com- 
mand of  such  an  army,  on  such  an  expedition,  to  Osama,  a 
youth  but  twenty  years  of  age,  instead  of  some  one  of  his  vet- 
eran and  well-tried  generals.  It  seems  to  have  been  a  matter 
of  favor,  dictated  by  tender  and  grateful  recollections.  Osama 
was  the  son  of  Zeid,  Mahomet's  devoted  freedman,  who  had 
given  the  prophet  such  a  signal  and  acceptable  proof  of  devo- 
tion in  relinquishing  to  him  his  beautiful  wife  Zeinab.  Zeid 
had  continued  to  the  last  the  same  zealous  and  self-sacrificing 
disciple,  and  had  fallen  bravely  fighting  for  the  faith  in  the 
battle  of  Muta. 

Mahomet  was  aware  of  the  hazard  of  the  choice  he  had  made, 
and  feared  the  troops  might  be  insubordinate  under  so  young 
a  commander.  In  a  general  review,  therefore,  he  exhorted 
them  to  obedience,  reminding  them  that  Osama's  father,  Zeid, 
had  commanded  an  expedition  of  this  very  kind,  against  the 
very  same  people,  and  had  fallen  by  their  hands ;  it  was  but  a 
just  tribute  to  his  memory,  therefore,  to  give  his  son  an  oppor- 
tunity of  avenging  his  death.  Then  placing  his  banner  in  the 
hands  of  the  youthful  general,  he  called  upon  him  to  fight 
valiantly  the  fight  of  the  faith  against  all  who  should  deny  the' 
unity  of  God.  The  army  marched  forth  that  very  day,  and 
encamped  at  Djorf,  a  few  miles  from  Medina;  but  circum- 
stances occurred  to  prevent  its  further  progress. 

That  very  night  Mahomet  had  asevere  access  of  the  malady 
which  for  some  time  past  had  affected  him,  and  which  was 
ascribed  by  some  to  the  lurking  effects  of  the  poison  given  to 
him  at  Kha'ibar.  It  commenced  with  a  violent  pain  in  the 
head,  accompanied  by  vertigo,  and  the  delirium  which  seems 
to  have  mingled  with  all  his  paroxysms  of  illness.     Starting  up 


MAITOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  ISO 

in  the  mid -watches  of  the  night  from  a  troubled  dream,  he 
called  upon  an  attendant  slave  to  accompany  him,  saying  he 
was  summoned  by  the  dead  who  lay  interred  in  the  public 
burying-place  of  Medina  to  come  and  pray  for  them.  Fol- 
lowed by  the  slave,  he  passed  through  the  dark  and  silent  city, 
where  all  were  sunk  in  sleep,  to  the  great  burying-ground, 
outside  of  the  walls. 

Arrived  in  the  midst  of  the  tombs,  he  lifted  up  his  voice  and 
made  a  solemn  apostrophe  to  their  tenants.  "Rejoice,  ye 
dwellers  in  the  grave!"  exclaimed  he.  "More  peaceful  is  the 
morning  to  which  ye  shall  awaken,  than  that  which  attends 
the  living.  Happier  is  your  condition  than  theirs.  God  has 
delivered  you  from  the  storms  with  which  they  are  threatened, 
and  which  shall  follow  one  another  like  the  watches  of  a 
stormy  night,  each  darker  than  that  which  went  before." 

After  praying  for  the  dead,  he  turned  and  addressed  his 
slave.  "The  choice  is  given  me,"  said  he,  "either  to  remain 
in  this  world  to  the  end  of  time,  in  the  enjoyment  of  all  its 
delights,  or  to  return  sooner  to  the  presence  of  God;  and  I 
have  chosen  the  latter." 

From  this  time  his  illness  rapidly  increased,  though  he  en- 
deavored to  go  about  as  usual,  and  shifted  his  residence  from 
day  to  day,  with  his  different  wives,  as  he  had  been  accustomed 
to  do.  He  was  in  the  dwelling  of  Maimona,  when  the  violence 
of  his  malady  became  so  great,  that  he  saw  it  must  soon  prove 
fatal.  His  heart  now  yearned  to  be  with  his  favorite  wife 
Ayesha,  and  pass  with  her  the  fleeting  residue  of  life.  With 
his  head  bound  up,  and  his  tottering  frame  supported  by  ALL 
and  Fadhl,  the  son  of  Al  Abbas,  he  repaired  to  her  abode. 
She,  likewise,  was  suffering  with  a  violent  pain  hi  the  head, 
and  entreated  of  him  a  remedy. 

' '  Wherefore  a  remedy  ?"  said  he,  ' '  Better  that  thou  shouldst 
die  before  me.  I  could  then  close  thine  eyes,  wrap  thee  in  thy 
funeral  garb,  lay  thee  in  the  tomb,  and  pray  for  thee." 

"Yes,"  replied  she,  "  and  then  return  to  my  house  and  dwell 
wnh  one  of  thy  other  wives,  who  would  profit  by  my  death." 

Mahomet  smiled  at  this  expression  of  jealous  fondness,  and 
resigned  himself  into  her  care.  His  only  remaining  child, 
Fatima,  the  wife  of  Ala,  came  presently  to  see  him.  Ayesha 
used  to  say  that  she  never  saw  any  one  resemble  the  prophet 
more  in  sweetness  of  temper,  than  this  his  daughter.  He 
treated  her  always  with  respectful  tenderness.  When  she 
came  to  him,  he  used  to  rise  up,  go  toward  her,  take  her  by 


190  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

the  hand,  and  kiss  it,  and  would  seat  her  in  his  own  place. 
Their  meeting  on  this  occasion  is  thus  related  by  Ayesha,  in 
the  traditions  preserved  by  Abulf eda. 

"  '  Welcome,  my  child  ! '  said  the  prophet,  and  made  her  sit 
beside  him.  He  then  whispered  something  in  her  ear,  at  which 
she  wept.  Perceiving  her  affliction,  he  whispered  something- 
more,  and  her  countenance  brightened  with  joy.  '  What  is 
the  meaning  of  this  ? '  said  I  to  Fatima.  '  The  prophet  honors 
thee  with  a  mark  of  confidence  never  bestowed  on  any  of  his 
wives.'  '  I  cannot  disclose  the  secret  of  the  prophet  of  God,' 
replied  Fatima.  Nevertheless,  after  his  death,  she  declared 
that  at  first  he  announced  to  her  his  impending  death  ;  but, 
seeing  her  weep,  consoled  her  with  the  assurance  that  she 
would  shortly  follow  him,  and  become  a  princess  in  heaven, 
among  the  faithful  of  her  sex." 

In  the  second  day  of  his  illness,  Mahomet  was  tormented  by 
a  burning  fever,  and  caused  vessels  of  water  to  be  emptied  on 
his  head  and  over  his  body,  exclaiming  amidst  his  paroxysms, 
"Now  I  feel  the  poison  of  Khaibar  rending  my  entrails." 

When  somewhat  relieved,  he  was  aided  in  repairing  to  the 
mosque,  which  was  adjacent  to  his  residence.  Here,  seated  in 
his  chair,  or  pulpit,  he  prayed  devoutly  ;  after  which,  address- 
ing the  congregation,  which  was  numerous,  "If  any  of  you," 
said  he,  "have  aught  upon  his  conscience,  let  him  speak  out, 
that  I  may  ask  God's  pardon  for  him." 

Upon  this  a  man,  who  had  passed  for  a  devout  Moslem, 
stood  forth  and  confessed  himself  a  hypocrite,  a  liar,  and  a 
weak  disciple.  "  Out  upon  thee  !  "  cried  Omar,  "  why  dost 
thou  make  known  what  God  hath  suffered  to  remain  con- 
cealed ?  "  But  Mahomet  turned  rebukingly  to  Omar.  "  Oh, 
son  of  Khattab,"  said  he,  "  better  is  it  to  blush  in  this  world, 
than  suffer  in  the  next."  Then  lifting  his  eyes  to  heaven,  and 
praying  for  the  self-accused,  "  Oh  God,"  exclaimed  he,  "  give 
him  rectitude  and  faith,  and  take  from  him  all  weakness  in 
fulfilling  such  of  thy  commands  as  his  conscience  dictates." 

Again  addressing  the  congregation,  "  Is  there  any  one  among 
you,"  said  he,  "whom  I  have  stricken  ;  here  is  my  back,  let 
him  strike  me  in  return.  Is  there  any  one  whose  character  I 
have  aspersed  ;  let  him  now  cast-reproach  upon  me.  Is  there 
any  one  from  whom  I  have  taken  ought  unjustly ;  let  him  now 
come  forward  and  be  indemnified." 

Upon  this,  a  man  among  the  throng  reminded  Mahomet  of  a 
debt  of  three  dinars  of  silver,  and  was  instantly  repaid  with 


MAHOMET  AND  II1S  SUCCESSORS.  \§\ 

interest.     "Much  easier  is  it,"  said  the  prophet,  "to  bear  pun- 
ishment in  this  world  than  throughout  eternity." 

He  now  pi-ayed  fervently  for  the  faithful  who  had  fallen  by 
his  side  in  the  battle  of  Ohod,  and  for  those  who  had  suffered 
for  the  faith  in  other  battles;  interceding  with  them  in 
virtue  of  the  pact  which  exists  between  the  living  and  the 
dead. 

After  this  he  addressed  the  Mohadjerins  or  Exiles,  who  had 
accompanied  him  from  Mecca,  exhorting  them  to  hold  in  honor 
the  Ansarians,  or  allies  of  Medina.  ' '  The  number  of  believers, " 
said  he,  "will  increase,  but  that  of  the  allies  never  can.  They 
were  my  family;  with  whom  I  found  a  home.  Do  good  to 
those  who  do  good  to  them,  and  break  friendship  with  those 
who  are  hostile  to  them." 

He  then  gave  three  parting  commands: 

First. — Expel  all  idolaters  from  Arabia. 

Second.—  Allow  all  proselytes  equal  privileges  with  your- 
selves. 

Third. — Devote  yourselves  incessantly  to  prayer. 

His  sermon  and  exhortation  being  finished,  he  was  affection- 
ately supported  back  to  the  mansion  of  Ayesha,  but  was  so  ex- 
hausted on  arriving  there  that  he  fainted. 

His  malady  increased  from  day  to  day,  apparently  with  in- 
tervals of  delirium ;  for  he  spoke  of  receiving  visits  from  the 
angel  Gabriel,  who  came  from  God  to  inquire  after  the  state  of 
his  health ;  and  told  him  that  it  rested  with  himself  to  fix  his 
dying  moment ;  the  angel  of  death  being  forbidden  by  Allah  to 
enter  his  presence  without  his  permission. 

In  one  of  his  paroxysms  he  called  for  writing  implements, 
that  he  might  leave  some  rides  of  conduct  for  his  followers. 
His  attendants  were  troubled,  fearing  he  might  do  something 
to  impair  the  authority  of  the  Koran.  Hearing  them  debate 
among  themselves,  whether  to  comply  with  his  request,  he 
ordered  them  to  leave  the  room,  and  when  they  returned  said 
nothing  more  on  the  subject. 

On  Friday,  the  day  of  religious  assemblage,  he  prepared,  not- 
withstanding his  illness,  to  officiate  in  the  mosque,  and  had 
water  again  poured  over  him  to  refresh  and  strengthen  him, 
but  on  making  an  effort  to  go  forth,  fainted.  On  recovering, 
he  requested  Abu  Beker  to  perform  the  public  prayers ;  observ- 
ing, "  Allah  has  given  his  servant  the  right  to  appoint  whom 
he  pleases  in  his  place."  It  was  afterward  maintained  by  some 
that  he  thus  intended  to  designate  this  long-tried  friend  and  ad- 


192  MAI1VMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

herent  as  his  successor  in  office ;  but  Abu  Beker  shrank  from 
construing  the  words  too  closely. 

"Word  was  soon  brought  to  Mahomet,  that  the  appearance  of 
Abu  Beker  in  the  pulpit  had  caused  great  agitation,  a  rumor 
being  circulated  that  the  prophet  was  dead.  Exerting  his  re- 
maining strength,  therefore,  and  leaning  on  the  shoulders  of 
Ali  and  Al  Abbas,  he  made  his  way  into  the  mosque,  where  his 
appearance  spread  joy  throughout  the  congregation.  Abu 
Beker  ceased  to  praj7,  but  Mahomet  bade  him  proceed,  and  tak- 
ing his  seat  behind  him  in  the  pulpit,  repeated  the  prayers  after 
him.  Then  addressing  the  congregation,  "  I  have  heard, "  said 
he,  "that  a  rumor  of  the  death  of  your  prophet  filled  you  with 
alarm ;  but  has  any  prophet  before  me  lived  forever,  that  ye 
think  I  would  never  leave  you  ?  Everything  happens  accord- 
ing to  the  will  of  God,  and  has  its  appointed  time,  which  is  not 
to  be  hastened  nor  avoided.  I  return  to  him  who  sent  me ;  and 
my  last  command  to  you  is,  that  ye  remain  united;  that  ye 
love,  honor,  and  uphold  each  other ;  that  ye  exhort  each  other 
to  faith  and  constancy  in  belief,  and  to  the  performance  of 
pious  deeds ;  by  these  alone  men  prosper ;  all  else  leads  to  de- 
struction." 

In  concluding  his  exhortation  he  added,  "  I  do  but  go  before 
you ;  you  will  soon  follow  me.  Death  awaits  us  all ;  let  no  one 
then  seek  to  turn  it  aside  from  me.  My  life  has  been  for  your 
good;  so  will  be  my  death." 

These  were  the  last  words  he  spake  hi  public ;  he  was  again 
conducted  back  by  Ali  and  Abbas  to  the  dwelling  of  Ayesha. 

On  a  succeeding  day  there  was  an  interval  during  which  he 
appeared  so  well  that  Ali,  Abu  Beker,  Omar,  and  the  rest  of 
those  who  had  been  constantly  about  him,  absented  themselves 
for  a  time,  to  attend  to  their  affairs.  Ayesha  alone  remained 
with  him.  The  interval  was  but  illusive.  His  pains  returned 
with  redoubled  violence.  Finding  death  approaching  he  gave 
orders  that  ah  his  slaves  should  be  restored  to  freedom,  and  all 
the  money  in  the  house  distributed  among  the  poor ;  then  rais- 
ing his  eyes  to  heaven,  "  God  be  with  me  in  tbe  death  struggle," 
exclaimed  he. 

Ayesha  now  sent  in  haste  for"her  father  and  Hafza.  Left 
alone  with  Mahomet,  she  sustained  his  head  on  her  lap,  watch- 
ing over  him  with  tender  assiduity,  and  endeavoring  to  soothe 
his  dying  agonies.  From  time  to  time  he  woidd  dip  his  hand  in 
a  vase  of  water,  and  with  it  feebly  sprinkle  his  face.  At  length 
raising  his  eyes  and  gazing  upward  for  a  time  with  unmoving 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  193 

eyelids,  "Oh  Allah!"  ejaculated  he,  in  hroken  accents,  "be  it 
so ! — among  the  glorious  associates  in  paradise !" 

"  I  knew  by  this,"  said  Ayesha,  who  related  the  dying  scene, 
' '  that  his  last  moment  had  arrived,  and  that  he  had  made 
choice  of  supernal  existence." 

In  a  few  moments  his  hands  were  cold,  and  life  was  extinct. 
Ayesha  laid  his  head  upon  the  pillow,  and  beating  her  head 
and  breact,  gave  way  to  loud  lamentations.  Her  outcries 
brought  the  other  wives  of  Mahomet,  and  their  clamorous 
grief  soon  made  the  event  known  throughout  the  city.  Con- 
sternation seized  upon  the  people,  as  if  some  prodigy  had  hap- 
pened. All  business  was  suspended.  The  army  which  had 
struck  its  tents  was  ordered  to  halt,  and  Osama,  whose  foot 
was  in  the  stirrup  for  the  march,  turned  his  steed  to  the  gates 
of  Medina,  and  planted  his  standard  at  the  prophet's  door. 

The  multitude  crowded  to  contemplate  the  corpse,  and  agi- 
tation and  dispute  prevailed  even  in  the  chamber  of  death. 
Some  discredited  the  evidence  of  their  senses.  "  How  can  he 
be  dead?"  cried  they.  "Is  he  not  our  mediator  with  God? 
How  then  can  he  be  dead?  Impossible !  He  i3  but  in  a  trance, 
and  carried  up  to  heaven  like  Isa  (Jesus)  and  the  other 
prophets." 

The  throng  augmented  about  the  house,  declaring  with 
clamor  that  the  body  should  not  be  interred ;  when  Omar,  who 
had  just  heard  the  tidings,  arrived.  He  drew  his  scimetar, 
and  pressing  through  the  crowd,  threatened  to  strike  off  the 
hands  and  feet  of  any  one  who  should  affirm  that  the  prophet 
was  dead.  "  He  has  but  departed  for  a  time,"  said  he,  "as 
Musa  (Moses)  the  son  of  Imram,  went  up  forty  days  into  the 
mountain;  and  like  him  he  will  return  again." 

Abu  Beker,  who  had  been  in  a  distant  part  of  the  city, 
arrived  in  time  to  soothe  the  despair  of  the  people,  and  calm 
the  transports  of  Omar.  Passing  info  the  chamber,  he  raised 
the  cloth  which  covered  the  corpse,  and  kissing  the  pale  face 
of  Mahomet,  "Oh  thou!"  exclaimed  he,  "who  wert  to  me 
as  my  father  and  my  mother ;  sweet  art  thou  even  in  death, 
and  living  odors  dost  thou  exhale !  Now  livest  thou  in  ever- 
lasting bliss,  for  never  will  Allah  subject  thee  to  a  second 
death." 

Then  covering  the  corpse,  he  went  forth  and  endeavored  to 
silence  Omar,  but  finding  it  impossible,  he  addressed  the  mul- 
titude :  ' '  Truly  if  Mahomet  is  the  scle  object  of  your  adoration, 
he  is  dead ;  but  if  it  be  God  you  worship,  he  cannot  die.     Ma- 


194  MAHOMET  AM)  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

hornet  was  but  the  prophet  of  God,  and  has  shared  the  fate  of 
the  apostles  and  holy  men  who  have  gone  before  him.  Allah, 
himself  has  said  in  his  Koran  that  Mahomet  was  but  his  am- 
bassador, and  was  subject  to  death.  What  then!  will  you 
turn  the  heel  upon  him,  and  abandon  his  doctrine  because  he 
is  dead  ?  Remember  your  apostasy  harms  not  God,  but  insures 
your  own  condemnation;  while  the  blessings  of  God  will  be 
poured  out  upon  those  who  continue  faithful  to  him. " 

The  people  listened  to  Abu  Beker  with  tears  and  sobbings, 
and  as  they  listened,  their  despair  subsided.'  Even  Omar  was 
convinced  but  not  consoled,  throwing  himself  on  the  earth, 
and  bewailing  the  death  of  Mahomet,  whom  he  remembered 
as  his  commander  and  his  friend. 

The  death  of  the  prophet,  according  to  the  Moslem  historians 
Abulfeda  and  Al  Jannabi,  took  place  on  his  birthday,  when  he 
had  completed  his  sixty-third  year.  It  was  in  the  eleventh 
year  of  the  Hegira,  and  the  G32d  year  of  the  Christian  era. 

The  body  was  prepared  for  sepulture  by  several  of  the  dear- 
est relatives  and  disciples.  They  affirmed  that  a  marvellous 
fragrance  which,  according  to  the  evidence  of  his  wives  and 
daughters,  emanated  from  his  person  during  life,  still  contin- 
ued; so  that,  to  use  the  words  of  Ah,  "  it  seemed  as  if  he  were, 
at  the  same  time,  dead  and  living." 

The  body  having  been  washed  and  perfumed,  was  wrapped 
in  three  coverings;  two  white,  and  the  third  of  the  striped 
cloth  of  Yemen.  The  whole  was  then  perfumed  with  amber, 
musk,  aloes,  and  odoriferous  herbs.  After  this  it  was  exposed 
in  public,  and  seventy-two  prayers  were  offered  up. 

The  body  remained  three  days  unburied,  in  compliance  with 
oriental  custom,  and  to  satisfy  those  who  still  believed  in  the 
possibility  of  a  trance.  When  the  evidences  of  mortality 
could  no  longer  be  mistaken,  preparations  were  made  for  inter- 
ment. A  dispute  now  arose  as  to  the  place  of  sepulture.  The 
Mohadjerins  or  disciples  from  Mecca  contended  for  that  city, 
as  being  the  place  of  his  nativity;  the  Ansarians  claimed  for 
Medina,  as  his  asylum  and  the  place  of  his  residence,  during 
the  last  ten  years  of  his  life.  A  third  party  advised  that  his 
remains  should  be  transported  to- Jerusalem,  as  the  place  of 
sepulture  of  the  prophets.  Abu  Beker,  whose  word  had 
always  the  greatest  weight,  declared  it  to  have  been  the 
expressed  opinion  of  Mahomet,  that  a  prophet  should  be  buried 
in  the  place  where  he  died.  This  in  the  present  instance  ivas 
complied  with  to  the  very  letter,  for  a  grave  was  digged  in  the 


MAHOMET  AND  BIS  SUCCESSORS.  195 

house  of  Ayesha,  beneath  the  very  bed  on  which  Mahomet  had 
expired. 

Note.— The  house  of  Ayesha  was  immediately  adjacent  to  the  mcsque;  which 
was  at  that  time  a  humble  edifice  with  c/ay  walls,  aud  a  roof  thatched  with  palm- 
leaves,  and  supported  by  the  trunks  cf  trees.  It  has  since  been  included  in  a  spa- 
cious temple,  on  the  plan  of  a  colonnade,  inclosing  an  oblong  square,  IGo  paces  by 
130,  open  to  the  heavens,  with  four  gates  of  entrance.  The  colonnade,  of  several 
rows  of  pillars,  of  various  sizes,  covered  with  stucco  and  gaily  painted,  supports  a 
succession  of  small  white  cupolas  on  the  four  sides  of  the  square.  At  the  four  cor- 
ners are  lofty  and  tapering  minarets. 

Near  the  south-east  corner  of  the  square  is  an  inclosure,  surrounded  by  an  iron 
railing,  painted  green,  wrought  with  filagree  work  and  interwoven  with  brass  ana 
gilded  wire;  admitting  no  view  of  the  interior,  excepting  through  small  windows, 
about  six  inches  square.  This  inclosure,  the  great  resort  of  pilgrims,  is  called  the 
lladg'ira,  and  contains  the  tombs  of  Mahomet,  and  his  two  friends  and  early  suc- 
cessors, Abu  Beker  and  Omar.  Above  this  sacred  inclosure  rises  a  lofty  dome 
surmounted  with  a  gilded  globe  and  crescent,  at  the  first  sight  of  which,  pilgrims, 
as  they  approach  Medina,  salute  the  tomb  of  the  prophet  with  profound  inclina- 
tions of  the  body  and  appropriate  prayers.  The  marvellous  tale,  so  long  consid- 
ered veritable,  that  the  coffin  of  Mahomet  remained  suspended  in  the  air  without 
any  support,  and  which  Christian  writers  accounted  for  by  supposing  that  it  was  of 
iron,  and  dexterously  placed  midway  between  two  magnets,  is  proved  to  be  an  idle 
fiction. 

The  mosque  has  undergone  changes.  It  was  at  one  time  partially  thrown  down 
and  destroyed  in  an  awful  tempest,  but  was  rebuilt  by  the  Soldan  of  Egypt.  It  has 
been  enlarged  and  embellished  by  various  Caliphs,  and  in  particular  by  Waled  I.. 
under  whom  Spain  was  invaded  and  conquered.  It  was  plundered  of  its  immense 
votive  treasures  by  the  Wahabees  when  they  took  and  pillaged  Medina.  It  is  now 
maintained,  though  with  diminished  splendor,  under  the  care  of  about  thirty  Agas, 
whose  chief  is"  called  Sheikh  Al  Haram.  or  chief  of  the  Holy  House.  He  is  the 
principal  personage  in  Medina.  Pilgrimage  to  Medina,  though  considered  a  most 
devout  and  meritorious  act,  is  not  imposed  on  Mahometans,  like  pilgrimage  to 
Mecca,  as  a  religious  duty,  and  has  much  declined  in  modern  days. 

The  foregoing  particulars  are  from  Burekhardt,  who  gained  admission  into  Me- 
dina, as  well  as  into  Mecca,  in  disguise  and  at  great  peril;  admittance  into  these 
cities  being  prohibited  to  all  but  Moslems. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

PERSON  AND  CHARACTER  OF  MAHOMET,   AND  SPECULATIONS  ON 
HIS  PROPHETIC  CAREER. 

Mahomet,  according  to  accounts  handed  down  by  tradition 
from  his  contemporaries,  was  of  the  middle  stature,  square 
built  and  sinewy,  with  large  bands  and  feet.  In  his  youth  he 
was  uncommonly  strong  and  vigorous ;  in  the  latter  part  of  his 
life  he  inclined  to  corpulency.  His  head  was  capacious,  well 
shaped,  and  well  set  on  a  neck  which  rose  like  a  pillar  from  his 


196  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

ample  chest.  His  forehead  was  high,  broad  at  the  temples 
and  crossed  by  veins  extending  down  to  the  eyebrows,  which 
swelled  whenever  he  was  angry  or  excited.  He  had  an  oval 
face,  marked  and  expressive  features,  an  aquiline  nose,  black 
eyes,  arched  eyebrows,  which  nearly  met,  a  mouth  large  and 
flexible,  indicative  of  eloquence ;  very  white  teeth,  somewhat 
parted  and  irregular ;  black  hair,  which  waved  without  a  curl 
on  his  shoulders,  and  a  long  and  very  full  beard. 

His  deportment,  in  general,  was  calm  and  equable ;  he  some- 
times indulged  in  pleasantry,  but  more  commonly  was  grave 
and  dignified ;  though  he  is  said  to  have  possessed  a  smile  of 
captivating  sweetness.  His  complexion  was  more  ruddy  than 
is  usual  with  Arabs,  and  in  his  excited  and  enthusiastic  mo- 
ments there  was  a  glow  and  radiance  in  his  countenance, 
which  Ms  disciples  magnified  into  the  supernatural  light  of 
prophecy. 

His  intellectual  qualities  were  undoubtedly  of  an  extra- 
ordinary kind.  He  had  a  quick  apprehension,  a  retentive 
memory,  a  vivid  imagination,  and  an  inventive  genius.  Ow- 
ing but  little  to  education,  he  had  quickened  and  informed  his 
mind  by  close  observation,  and  stored  it  with  a  great  variety 
of  knowledge  concerning  the  systems  of  religion  current  in  his 
day,  or  handed  down  by  tradition  from  antiquity.  His  ordi- 
nary discourse  was  grave  and  sententious,  abounding  with 
those  aphorisms  and  apologues  so  popular  among  the  Arabs ; 
at  times  he  was  excited  and  eloquent,  and  his  eloquence  was 
aided  by  a  voice  musical  and  sonorous. 

He  was  sober  and  abstemious  in  his  diet,  and  a  rigorous 
observer  of  fasts.  He  indulged  in  no  magnificence  of  apparel, 
the  ostentation  of  a  petty  mind ;  neither  was  his  simplicity  in 
dress  affected,  but  the  result  of  a  real  disregard  to  distinction 
from  so  trivial  a  source.  His  garments  were  sometimes  of 
wool,  sometimes  of  the  striped  cotton  of  Yemen,  and  were 
often  patched.  He  wore  a  turban,  for  he  said  turbans  were 
worn  by  the  angels ;  and  in  arranging  it  he  let  one  end  hang 
down  between  his  shoulders,  which  he  said  was  the  way  they 
wore  it.  He  forbade  the  wearing  of  clothes  entirely  of  silk ; 
but  permitted  a  mixture  of  thread  "and  silk.  He  forbade  also 
red  clothes  and  the  use  of  gold  rings.  He  wore  a  seal  ring  of 
silver,  the  engraved  part  under  his  finger  close  to  the  palm  of 
his  hand,  bearing  the  inscription,  "  Mahomet  the  messenger  of 
God."  He  was  scrupulous  as  to  personal  cleanliness,  and  ob- 
served frequent  ablutions.     In  some  respects  he  was  a  volup- 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  197 

tuary.  "  There  are  two  things  in  this  world,"  would  he  say, 
"which  delight  me,  women  and  perfumes.  These  two  things 
rejoice  my  eyes  and  render  me  more  fervent  in  devotion." 
From  his  extreme  cleanliness,  and  the  use  of  perfumes  and  of 
sweet-scented  oil  for  his  hair,  probably  arose  that  sweetness 
and  fragrance  of  person,  which  his  disciples  considered  innate 
and  miraculous.  His  passion  for  the  sex  had  an  influence  over 
all  his  affairs.  It  is  said  that  when  in  the  presence  of  a  beauti- 
ful female,  he  was  continually  smoothing  his  brow  and  adjust- 
ing his  hair,  as  if  anxious  to  appear  to  advantage. 

The  number  of  his  wives  is  uncertain.  Abulfeda,  who  writes 
with  more  caution  than  other  of  the  Arabian  historians,  limits 
it  to  fifteen,  though  some  make  it  as  much  as  twenty-five.  At 
the  time  of  his  death  he  had  nine,  each  in  her  separate  dwell- 
ing, and  all  in  the  vicinity  of  the  mosque  at  Medina.  The  plea 
alleged  for  his  indulging  in  a  greater  number  of  wives  than  he 
permitted  to  his  followers,  was  a  desire  to  beget  a  race  of  pro- 
phets for  his  people.  If  such  indeed  were  his  desire,  it  was 
disappointed.  Of  all  his  children,  Fatima  the  wife  of  Ali  alone 
survived  him,  and  she  died  within  a  short  time  after  his  death. 
Of  her  descendants  none  excepting  her  eldest  son  Hassan  ever 
sat  on  the  throne  of  the  Caliphs. 

In  his  private  dealings  he  was  just.  He  treated  friends  and 
strangers,  the  rich  and  poor,  the  powerful  and  the  weak,  with 
equity,  and  was  beloved  by  the  common  people  for  the  affabil- 
ity with  which  he  received  them,  and  listened  to  their  com- 
plaints. 

He  was  naturally  irritable,  but  had  brought  his  temper  under 
great  control,  so  that  even  in  the  self-indulgent  intercourse  of 
domestic  life  he  was  kind  and  tolerant.  "  I  served  him  from 
the  time  I  was  eight  years  old,"  said  his  servant  Anas,  "and  he 
never  scolded  me  for  any  thing,  though  things  were  spoiled  by 
me." 

The  question  now  occurs,  Was  he  the  unprincipled  impostor 
that  he  has  been  represented?  Were  all  his  visions  and  revela- 
tions deliberate  falsehoods,  and  was  his  whole  system  a  tissue 
of  deceit?  In  considering  this  question  we  must  bear  in  mind 
that  he  is  not  chargeable  with  many  extravagancies  which 
exist  in  his  name.  Many  of  the  visions  and  revelations  handed 
down  as  having  been  given.by  him  are  spurious.  The  miracles 
ascribed  to  him  are  all  fabrications  of  Moslem  zealots.  He 
expressly  and  repeatedly  disclaimed  all  miracles  excepting  the 
Koran;  which,  considering  its  incomparable  merit,  and  the 


198  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

way  in  which  it  had  come  down  to  him  from  heaven,  he  pro- 
nounced the  greatest  of  miracles.  And  here  we  must  indulge 
a  few  observations  on  this  famous  document.  While  zealous 
Moslems  and  some  of  the  most  learned  doctors  of  the  faith 
draw  proofs  of  its  divine  origin  from  the  inimitable  excellence 
of  its  style  and  composition,  and  the  avowed  illiteracy  of 
Mahomet,  less  devout  critics  have  pronounced  it  a  chaos  of 
beauties  and  defects ;  without  method  or  arrangement ;  full  of 
obscurities,  incoherencies,  repetitions,  false  versions  of  scrip- 
tural stories,  and  direct  contradictions.  The  truth  is  that  the 
Koran  as  it  now  exists  is  not  the  same  Koran  delivered  by 
Mahomet  to  his  disciples,  but  has  undergone  many  corruptions 
and  interpolations.  The  revelations  contained  in  it  were  given 
at  various  times,  in  various  places,  and  before  various  persons ; 
sometimes  they  were  taken  down  by  his  secretaries  or  disciples 
on  parchment,  on  palm-leaves,  or  the  shoulder-blades  of  sheep, 
and  thrown  together  in  a  chest,  of  which  one  of  his  wives  had 
charge;  sometimes  they  were  merely  treaasured  up  in  the 
memories  of  those  who  heard  them.  No  care  appears  to  have 
been  taken  to  systematize  and  arrange  them  during  his  life ; 
and  at  his  death  they  remained  in  scattered  fragments,  many 
of  them  at  the  mercy  of  fallacious  memories.  It  was  not  until 
some  time  after  his  death  that  Abu  Beker  undertook  to  have 
them  gathered  together  and  transcribed.  Zeid  Ibn  Thabet, 
who  had  been  one  of  the  secretaries  of  Mahomet,  was  employed 
for  the  purpose.  He  professed  to  know  many  parts  of  the 
Koran  by  heart,  having  written  them  down  under  the  dicta- 
tion of  the  prophet ;  other  parts  he  collected  piecemeal  from 
various  hands,  written  down  in  the  rude  way  we  have  men- 
tioned, and  many  parts  he  took  down  as  repeated  to  him  by 
various  disciples  who  professed  to  have  heard  them  uttered  by 
the  prophet  himself.  The  heterogeneous  fragments  thus  col- 
lected were  thrown  together  without  selection,  without  chrono- 
logical order,  and  without  system  of  any  kind.  The  volume 
thus  formed  during  the  Caliphat  of  Abu  Beker  was  transcribed 
by  different  hands,  and  many  professed  copies  put  in  circula- 
tion and  dispersed  throughout  the  Moslem  cities.  So  many 
errors,  interpolations,  and  contradictory  readings  soon  crept 
into  these  copies,  that  Othman,  the  third  Caliph,  called  in  the 
various  manuscripts,  and  forming  what  he  pronounced  the 
genuine  Koran,  caused  all  the  others  to  be  destro3red. 

This  simple  statement  may  account  for  many  of  the  inco- 
herencies, repetitions,  and  other  discrepancies  charged  upon 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  199 

this  singular  document.  Mahomet,  as  has  justly  been,  ob- 
served, may  have  given  the  same  precepts,  or  related  the  same 
apologue  at  different  times,  to  different  persons  in  different 
words ;  or  various  persons  may  have  been  present  at  one  time, 
and  given  various  versions  of  his  words ;  and  reported  his  apo- 
logues and  scriptural  stories  in  different  ways,  according  to 
their  imperfect  memoranda  or  fallible  recollections.  Many 
revelations  given  by  him  as  having  been  made  in  foregone 
times  to  the  prophets,  his  predecessors,  may  have  been  re- 
ported as  having  been  given  as  relations  made  to  himself.  It 
has  been  intimated  that  Abu  Beker,  in  the  early  days  of  his 
Caliphat,  may  have  found  it  politic  to  interpolate  many  things 
in  the  Koran,  calculated  to  aid  him  in  emergencies,  and  con- 
firm the  empire  of  Islamism.  What  corruptions  and  interpo- 
lations may  have  been  made  by  other  and  less  scrupulous 
hands,  after  the  prophet's  death,  we  may  judge  by  the  daring 
liberties  of  the  kind  taken  by  AbdaUah  Ibn  Saad,  one  of  his 
secretaries,  during  his  lifetime. 

From  all  these  circumstances  it  will  appear,  that  even  the 
documentary  memorials  concerning  Mahomet  abound  with 
vitiations,  while  the  traditional  are  full  of  fable.  These  in- 
crease the  difficulty  of  solving  the  enigma  of  his  character  and 
conduct.  His  history  appears  to  resolve  itself  into  two  grand 
divisions.  During  the  first  part,  up  to  the  period  of  middle 
life,  we  cannot  perceive  what  adequate  object  he  had  to  gain 
by  the  impious  and  stupendous  imposture  with  which  he 
stands  charged.  Was  it  riches?  His  marriage  with  Cadi j ah 
had  already  made  him  wealthy,  and  for  years  preceding  his 
pretended  vision  he  had  manifested  no  desire  to  increase  bis 
store.  Was  it  distinction?  He  already  stood  high  in  his 
native  place,  as  a  man  of  intelligence  and  probity.  He  was  of 
the  illustrious  tribe  of  Koreish,  and  of  the  most  honored  branch 
of  that  tribe.  Was  it  power?  The  guardianship  of  the  Caaba, 
and  with  it  the  command  of  the  sacred  city,  had  been  for  gen- 
erations in  his  immediate  family,  and  his  situation  and  circum- 
stances entitled  him  to  look  forward  with  confidence  to  that 
exalted  trust.  In  attempting  to  subvert  the  faith  in  which  he 
had  been  brought  up,  he  struck  at  the  root  of  all  these  advan- 
tages. On  that  faith  were  founded  the  fortunes  and  dignities 
of  his  family.  To  assail  it  must  draw  on  himself  the  hostility 
of  his  kindred,  the  indignation  of  his  fellow-citizens,  and  the 
horror  and  odium  of  all  bis  countrymen,  who  were  worshippers 
at  the  Caaba. 


200  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

Was  there  anything  brilliant  in  the  outset  of  his  prophetic 
career  to  repay  him  for  these  sacrifices,  and  to  lure  him  on? 
On  the  contrary,  it  was  begun  in  cloubt  and  secrecy.  For 
years  it  was  not  attended  by  any  material  success.  In  propor- 
tion as  he  made  known  his  doctrines,  and  proclaimed  his  reve- 
lations, they  subjected  him  to  ridicule,  scorn,  obloquy,  and 
finally  to  an  inveterate  persecution ;  which  ruined  the  fortunes 
of  himself  and  his  friends ;  compelled  some  of  his  family  and 
followers  to  take  refuge  in  a  foreign  land ;  obliged  him  to  hide 
from  sight  in  his  native  city,  and  finally  drove  him  forth  a 
fugitive  to  seek  an  uncertain  home  elsewhere.  Why  should 
he  persist  for  years  in  a  course  of  imposture  which  was  thus 
prostrating  all  his  worldly  fortunes,  at  a  time  of  life  when  it 
was  too  late  to  build  them  up  anew? 

In  the  absence  of  sufficient  worldly  motives,  we  are  com- 
pelled to  seek  some  other  explanation  of  his  conduct  in  this 
stage  of  his  most  enigmatical  history;  and  this  we  have  en- 
deavored to  set  forth  in  the  early  part  of  this  work ;  where  we 
have  shown  his  enthusiastic  and  visionary  spirit  gradually 
wrought  up  by  solitude,  fasting,  prayer,  and  meditation,  and 
irritated  by  bodily  disease  into  a  state  of  teaiporary  delirium, 
in  which  he  fancies  he  receives  a  revelation  from  heaven,  and 
is  declared  a  prophet  of  the  Most  High.  We  cannot  but  think 
there  was  self-deception  in  this  instance ;  and  that  he  believed 
in  the  reality  of  the  dream  or  vision ;  especially  after  his  doubts 
had  been  combated  by  the  zealous  and  confiding  Cadi  j  ah,  and 
the  learned  and  crafty  Waraka. 

Once  persuaded  of  his  divine  mission  to  go  forth  and  preach 
the  faith,  all  subsequent  dreams  and  impulses  might  be  con- 
strued to  the  same  purport;  all  might  be  considered  intimations 
of  the  divine  will,  imparted  in  their  several  ways  to  him  as  a 
prophet.  We  find  him  repeatedly  subject  to  trances  and  ec- 
stasies in  times  of  peculiar  agitation  and  excitement,  when  he 
may  have  fancied  himself  again  in  communication  with  the 
Deity,  and  these  were  almost  always  followed  by  revela- 
tions. 

The  general  tenor  of  his  concluGt  up  to  the  time  of  his  flight 
from  Mecca,  is  that  of  an  enthusiast  acting  under  a  species  of 
mental  delusion ;  deeply  imbued  with  a  conviction  of  his  being 
a  divine  agent  for  religious  reform;  and  there  is  something 
striking  and  sublime  in  the  luminous  path  which  his  enthu- 
siastic spirit  struck  out  for  itself  through  the  bewildering 
maze  of  adverse  faiths  and  wild  traditions ;  the  pure  and  spiri- 


MAHOMET  AND  IITS  SUCCESSORS.  201 

tual  worship  of  the  one  true  God,  which  he  sought  to  substitute 
for  the  blind  idolatry  of  his  childhood. 

All  the  parts  of  the  Koran  supposed  to  have  been  promul- 
gated by  him  at  this  time,  incoherently  as  they  have  come 
down  to  us,  and  marred  as  their  pristine  beauty  must  be  in 
passing  through  various  hands,  are  of  a  pure  and  elevated 
character,  and  breathe  poetical  if  not  religious  inspiration. 
They  show  that  he  had  drunk  deep  of  the  living  waters  of 
Christianity,  and  if  he  had  failed  to  imbibe  them  in  their 
crystal  purity,  it  might  be  because  he  had  to  drink  from 
broken  cisterns,  and  streams  troubled  and  perverted  by  those 
who  should  have  been  their  guardians.  The  faith  he  had 
hitherto  inculcated  was  purer  than  that  held  forth  by  some  of 
the  pseudo  Christians  of  Arabia,  and  his  life,  so  far,  had  been 
regulated  according  to  its  tenets. 

Such  is  our  view  of  Mahomet  and  his  conduct  during  the 
early  part  of  his  career,  while  he  was  a  persecuted  and  ruined 
man  in  Mecca.    A  signal  change,  however,  took  place,  as  we 
have    shown  in  the  foregoing   chapters,   after  his  flight  to 
Medina,  when,  in  place  of  the  mere  shelter  and  protection 
which  he  sought,  he  finds  himself  revered  as  a  prophet,  impli- 
citly obeyed  as  a  chief,  and  at  the  head  of  a  powerful,  growing, 
and  warlike  host  of  votaries.     From  this  time  worldly  pas- 
sions and  worldly  schemes  too  often  give  the  impulse  to  his 
actions,  instead  of  that  visionary  enthusiasm  which,  even  if 
mistaken,  threw  a  glow  of  piety  on  his  earlier  deeds.     The  old 
doctrines  of  forbearance,  long-suffering,  and  resignation,  are 
suddenly  dashed  aside;  he  becomes  vindictive  toward  those 
who  have  hitherto  oppressed  him,  and  ambitious  of  extended 
rule.     His  doctrines,  precepts,  and  conduct  become  marked  by 
contradictions,  and  his  whole  course  is  irregular  and  unsteady. 
His  revelations,  henceforth,  are  so  often  opportune  and  fitted 
to  particular  emergencies,  that  we  are  led  to  doubt  his  sin- 
cerity, and  that  he  is  any  longer  under  the  same  delusion 
concerning  them.     Still,  it  must  be  remembered,  as  we  have 
shown,  that  the  records  of  these  revelations  are  not  always  to 
be  depended  upon.    What  he  may  have  uttered  as  from  his 
own  will  may  have  been  reported  as  if  given  as  the  will  of 
God.     Often,  too,  as  we  have  already  suggested,  he  may  have 
considered  Iris  own  impulses  as  divine  intimations ;  and  that, 
being  an  agent  ordained  to  propagate  the  faith,  all  impulses 
and  conceptions  toward  that  end  might  be  part  of  a  continued 
and  divine  inspiration. 


202  MAHOMET  AND  niS  SUCCESSORS. 

If  -we  are  far  from  considering  Mahoniet  the  gross  and  im- 
pious impostor  that  some  have  represented  him,  so  also  are  we 
indisposed  to  give  him  credit  for  vast  forecast,  and  for  that 
deeply  concerted  scheme  of  universal  conquest  which  has  been 
ascribed  to  him.  He  was,  undoubtedly,  a  man  of  great  genius 
and  a  suggestive  imagination,  but  it  appears  to  us  that  he  was, 
in  a  great  degree,  the  creature  of  impulse  and  excitement,  and 
very  much  at  the  mercy  of  circumstances.  His  schemes  grew 
out  of  his  fortunes,  and  not  his  fortunes  out  of  his  schemes. 
He  was  forty  years  of  age  before  he  first  broached  his  doc- 
trines. He  suffered  year  after  year  to  steal  away  before  he 
promulgated  them  out  of  his  own  family.  When  he  fled  from 
Mecca  thirteen  years  had  elapsed  from  the  announcement  of 
his  mission,  and  from  being  a  wealthy  merchant  he  had  sunk 
to  be  a  ruined  fugitive.  When  he  reached  Medina  he  had  no 
idea  of  the  worldly  power  that  awaited  him ;  his  only  thought 
was  to  build  a  humble  mosque  where  he  might  preach ;  and  his 
only  hope  that  he  might  be  suffered  to  preach  with  impunity. 
When  power  suddenly  broke  upon  him  he  used  it  for  a  time  in 
petty  forays  and  local  feuds.  His  military  plans  expanded 
with  bis  resources,  but  were  by  no  means  masterly,  and  were 
sometimes  unsuccessful.  They  were  not  struck  out  with  bold- 
ness, nor  executed  with  decision ;  but  were  often  changed  in 
deference  to  the  opinions  of  warlike  men  about  him,  and  some- 
times at  the  suggestion  of  inferior  minds,  who  occasionally  led 
him  wrong.  Had  he,  indeed,  conceived  from  the  outset  the 
idea  of  binding  up  the  scattered  and  conflicting  tribes  of 
Arabia  into  one  nation  by  a  brotherhood  of  faith,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  carrying  out  a  scheme  of  external  conquest,  he  would 
have  been  one  of  the  first  of  military  projectors;  but  the  idea 
of  extended  conquest  seems  to  have  been  an  after-thought  pro- 
duced by  success.  The  moment  he  proclaimed  the  religion  of 
the  sword,  and  gave  the  predatory  Arabs  a  taste  of  foreign 
plunder,  that  moment  he  was  launched  in  a  career  of  conquest, 
which  carried  him  forward  with  its  owu  irresistible  impetus. 
The  fanatic  zeal  with  which  ho  had  inspired  his  followers  did 
more  for  his  success  than  his  military  science ;  their  belief  in 
his  doctrine  of  predestination  produced  victories  which  no 
military  calculation  could  have  anticipated.  In  his  dubious 
outset,  as  a  prophet,  he  had  been  encouraged  by  the  crafty 
counsels  of  his  scriptural  oracle  Waraka;  in  his  career  as  a 
conqueror  ho  had  Omar,  Khaled,  and  other  fiery  spirits  by  his 
side  to  urge  him  on,  and  to  aid  him  in  managing  the  trcmcn- 


MAHOMET  AND  IIIS  SUCCESSORS.  203 

dons  power  which  he  had  evoked  into  action.  Even  with  all 
their  aid,  he  had  occasionally  to  avail  himself  of  his  super- 
natural machinery  as  a  prophet,  and  in  so  doing  may  have  re- 
conciled himself  to  the  fraud  by  considering  the  pious  end  to 
be  obtained. 

His  military  triumphs  awakened  no  pride  nor  vainglory,  as 
they  would  have  dene  had  they  been  effected  for  selfish  pur- 
poses. In  the  time  of  his  greatest  power,  he  maintained  the 
same  simplicity  of  manners  and  appearance  as  in  the  days  of 
his  adversity.  So  far  from  affecting  regal  state,  he  was  dis- 
pleased if,  on  entering  a  room,  any  unusual  testimonial  of 
respect  were  shown  him.  If  he  aimed  at  universal  dominion, 
it  was  the  dominion  of  the  faith :  as  to  the  temporal  rule  which 
grew  up  in  his  hands,  as  he  used  it  without  ostentation,  so  he 
took  no  step  to  perpetuate  it  in  his  family. 

The  riches  which  poured  in  upon  him  from  tribute  and  the 
spoils  of  war  were  expended  in  promoting  the  victories  of  the 
faith,  and  in  relieving  the  poor  among  its  votaries ;  insomuch 
that  his  treasury  was  often  drained  of  its  last  coin.  Omar  Ibn 
Al  Hareth  declares  that  Mahomet,  at  his  death,  did  not  leave  a 
golden  dinar  nor  a  silver  dirbem,  a  slave  nor  a  slave  girl,  nor 
anything  but  his  gray  mule  Daldal,  his  arms,  and  the  ground 
which  he  bestowed  upon  his  wives,  his  children,  and  the  poor. 
"Allah,"  says  an  Arabian  writer,  "offered  him  the  keys 
of  all  the  treasures  of  the  earth;  but  he  refused  to  accept 
them." 

It  is  this  perfect  abnegation  of  self,  connected  with  this 
apparently  heartfelt  piety,  running  throughout  the  various 
phases  of  his  fortune,  which  perplex  one  in  forming  a  just  esti- 
mate of  Mahomet's  character.  However  he  betrayed  the  alloy 
of  earth  after  he  had  worldly  power  at  his  command,  the 
early  aspirations  of  his  spirit  continually  returned  and  bore 
him  above  all  earthly  things.  Prayer,  that  vital  duty  of 
Islamism,  and  that  infallible  purifier  of  the  soul,  was  his  con- 
stant practice.  "  Trust  in  God,"  was  his  comfort  and  support 
in  times  of  trial  and  despondency.  On  the  clemency  of  God, 
we  are  told,  he  reposed  all  his  hopes  of  supernal  happiness. 
Ayesha  relates  that  on  one  occasion  she  inquired  of  him,  "Oh 
prophet,  do  none  enter  paradise  but  through  God's  mercy  ?" 
"  None— none— none !"  replied  he,  with  earnest  and  emphatic 
repetition.  "But  you,  oh  prophet,  will  not  you  enter  excepting 
through  his  compassion?"  Then  Mahomet  put  his  hand  upon 
bis    head,   and    replied    three    times,   with  great  solemnity, 


204  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

"Neither  shall  I  enter  paradise  unless  God  cover  me  with  his 
mercy  !  " 

When  he  hung  over  the  death-bed  of  his  infant  son  Ibrahim, 
resignation  to  the  will  of  God  was  exhibited  in  his  conduct 
under  this  keenest  of  afflictions  ;  and  the  hope  of  soon  rejoin- 
ing his  child  in  paradise  was  his  consolation.  When  he  fol- 
lowed him  to  the  grave,  he  invoked  his  spirit,  in  the  awful 
examination  of  the  tomb,  to  hold  fast  to  the  foundations  of  the 
faith,  the  unity  of  God,  and  his  own  mission  as  a  prophet. 
Even  in  his  own  dying  hour,  when  there  could  be  no  longer  a 
worldly  motive  for  deceit,  he  still  breathed  the  same  religious 
devotion,  and  the  same  belief  in  his  apostolic  mission.  The 
last  words  that  trembled  on  his  lips  ejaculated  a  trust  of  soon 
entering  into  blissful  companionship  with  the  prophets  who 
had  gone  before  him. 

It  is  difficult  to  reconcils  such  ardent,  persevering  piety  with 
an  incessant  system  of  blasphemous  imposture  ;  nor  such  pure 
and  elevated  and  benignant  precepts  as  are  contained  in  the 
Koran,  with  a  mind  haunted  by  ignoble  passions,  and  devoted 
to  the  grovelling  interests  of  mere  mortality  ;  and  we  find  no 
other  satisfactory  mode  of  solving  the  enigma  of  his  character 
and  conduct,  than  by  supposing  that  the  ray  of  mental  hallu- 
cination which  flashed  upon  his  enthusiastic  spirit  during  his 
religious  ecstasies  in  the  midnight  cavern  of  Mount  Hara,  con- 
tinued more  or  less  to  bewilder  him  with  a  species  of  monoma- 
nia to  the  end  of  his  career,  and  that  he  died  in  the  delusive 
belief  of  his  mission  as  a  prophet. 


APPENDIX. 

OF  THE  ISLAM  FAITH. 

In  an  early  chapter  of  this  work  we  have  given  such  particu- 
lars of  the  faith  inculcated  by  Mahomet  as  we  deemed  impor- 
tant to  the  understanding  of  the  succeeding  narrative :  we  nowr, 
though  at  the  expense  of  some  repetition,  subjoin  a  more  com- 
plete summary,  accompanied  by  a  few  observations. 
_  The  religion  of  Islam,  as  wo  observed  on  the  before-men- 
tioned occasion,  is  divided  into  two  parts :  Faith  and  Practice  : 
—and  first  of  faith.    This  is  distributed  under  six  different 


MAHOMET  AND   HIS  SUCCESSORS.  205 

heads,  or  articles,  viz. :  1st,  faith  in  God ;  2d,  in  his  angels ;  3d, 
in  his  Scriptures  or  Koran;  4th,  in  his  prophets;  5th,  in  the 
resurrection  and  final  judgment;  Oth,  in  predestination.  Of 
these  we  will  hriefly  treat  in  the  order  we  have  enumerated 
them. 

Faith  in  God. — Mahomet  inculcated  the  belief  that  there  is, 
was,  and  ever  will  he,  one  only  God,  the  creator  of  all  things; 
who  is  single,  immutable,  omniscient,  omnipotent,  all  merciful, 
and  eternal.  The  unity  of  God  was  specifically  and  strongly 
urged,  in  contradistinction  to  the  Trinity  of  the  Christians.  It 
was  designated,  in  the  profession  of  faith,  by  raising  one  finger, 
and  exclaiming,  "  La  illaha  il  Allah !"  There  is  no  God  but  God 
— to  which  was  added,  "  Mohamed  Eesoul  Allah!"  Mahomet  is 
the  prophet  of  God. 

Faith  in  Angels.  —The  beautiful  doctrine  of  angels,  or  min- 
istering spirits,  which  was  one  of  the  most  ancient  and  uni- 
versal of  oriental  creeds,  is  interwoven  throughout  the  Islam 
system.  They  are  represented  as  ethereal  beings,  created  from 
fire,  the  purest  of  elements,  perfect  in  form  and  radiant  in 
beauty,  but  without  sex ;  free  from  all  gross  or  sensual  passion, 
and  ail  the  appetites  and  infirmities  of  frail  humanity;  and 
existing  in  perpetual  and  unfading  youth.  They  are  various 
in  their  degrees  and  duties,  and  in  their  favor  with  the  Deity. 
Some  worship  around  the  celestial  throne ;  others  perpetually 
hymn  the  praises  of  Allah;  some  are  winged  messengers  to 
execute  his  orders,  and  others  intercede  for  the  children  of 
men. 

The  most  distinguished  of  this  heavenly  host  are  four  arch- 
angels. Gabriel,  the  angel  of  revelations,  who  writes  down  the 
divine  decrees ;  Michael,  the  champion,  who  fights  the  battles 
of  the  faith ;  Azrail,  the  angel  of  death ;  and  Israfil,  who  holds 
the  awful  commission  to  sound  the  trumpet  on  the  day  of 
resurrection.  There  was  another  angel  named  Azazil,  the  same 
as  Lucifer,  once  the  most  glorious  of  the  celestial  band :  but  he 
became  proud  and  rebellious.  When  God  commanded  his 
angels  to  worship  Adam,  Azazil  refused,  saying,  "Why  should 
I,  whom  thou  hast  created  of  fire,  bow  down  to  one  whom  thou 
hast  formed  of  clay  ?"  For  this  offence  he  was  accursed  and 
cast  forth  from  paradise,  and  his  name  changed  to  Eblis,  which 
signifies  despair.  In  revenge  of  his  abasement,  he  works  all 
kinds  of  mischief  against  the  children  of  men,  and  inspires 
them  with  disobedience  and  impiety. 

Among  the  angels  of  inferior  rank  is  a  class  called  Moak- 


206  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

kibat ;  two  of  whom  keep  watch  upon  each  mortal,  one  on  the 
right  hand,  the  other  on  the  left,  taking  note  of  eveiy  word 
and  action.  At  the>  close  of  each  day  they  fly  up  to  heaven 
with  a  written  report,  and  are  replaced  by  two  similar  angels 
on  the  following  day.  According  to  Mahometan  tradition, 
every  good  action  is  recorded  ten  times  by  the  angel  on  the 
right;  and  if  the  mortal  commit  a  sin,  the  same  benevolent 
spirit  says  to  the  angel  on  the  left,  ' '  Forbear  for  seven  hours  to 
record  it ;  perad venture  he  may  repent  and  pray  and  obtain 
forgiveness. " 

Besides  the  angelic  orders  Mahomet  inculcates  a  belief  in 
spiritual  beings  called  Gins  or  Genii,  who,  though  likewise  cre- 
ated of  fire,  partake  of  the  appetites  and  frailties  of  the  children 
of  the  dust,  and  like  them  are  ultimately  liable  to  death.  By 
beings  of  this  nature,  which  haunt  the  solitudes  of  the  desert, 
Mahomet,  as  we  have  shown,  professed  to  have  been  visited 
after  his  evening  orisons  in  the  solitary  valley  of  Al  Naklah. 

When  the  angel  Azazil  rebelled  and  fell  and  became  Satan  or 
Eblis,  he  still  maintained  sovereignty  over  these  inf erior  spirits  ; 
who  are  divided  by  Orientalists  into  Dives  and  Peri :  the  for- 
mer ferocious  and  gigantic ;  the  latter  delicate  and  gentle,  sub- 
sisting on  perfumes.  It  would  seem  as  if  the  Peri  were  all  of 
the  female  sex,  though  on  this  point  there  rests  obscurity. 
From  these  imaginary  beings  it  is  supposed  the  European 
fairies  are  derived. 

Besides  these  there  are  other  demi-spirits  called  Tacwins  or 
Fates,  being  winged  females  of  beautiful  forms,  who  utter 
oracles  and  defend  mortals  from  the  assaults  and  machinations 
of  evil  demons. 

There  is  vagueness  and  uncertainty  about  all  the  attributes 
given  by  Mahomet  to  these  half -celestial  beings;  his  ideas  on 
the  subject  having  been  acquired  from  various  sources.  His 
whole  system  of  intermediate  spirits  has  a  strong  though  indis- 
tinct infusion  of  the  creeds  and  superstitions  of  the  Hebrews, 
the  Magians,  and  the  Pagans  or  Sabeans. 

The  third  article  of  faith  is  a  belief  in  the  Koran,  as  a  book 
of  divine  revelation.  According  to  the  Moslem  creed  a  book 
was  treasured  up  in  the  seventh  heaven,  and  had  existed  there 
from  all  eternity,  in  which  were  written  down  all  the  decrees 
of  God  and  all  events,  past,  present,  or  to  come.  Transcripts 
from  these  tablets  of  the  divine  will  were  brought  down  to  the 
lowest  heaven  by'  the  angel  Gabriel,  and  by  him  revealed  to 
Mahomet  from  time  to  time,  in  portions  adapted  to  some 


MAHOMET  AND  JUS  SUCCESSORS.  207 

event  or  emergency.    Being  the  direct  words  of  God,  they  were 
all  spoken  in  the  first  person. 

Of  the  way  in  which  these  revelations  were  taken  down  or 
treasured  up  by  secretaries  and  disciples,  and  gathered  to- 
gether by  Abu  Beker  after  the  death  of  Mahomet,  we  have 
made  sufficient  mention.  The  compilation,  for  such  in  fact  it 
is,  forms  the  Moslem  code  of  civil  and  penal  as  well  as  religious 
law,  and  is  treated  with  the  utmost  reverence  by  all  true 
believers.  A  zealous  pride  is  shown  hi  having  copies  of  it 
splendidly  bound  and  ornamented.  An  inscription  on  the 
cover  forbids  any  one  to  touch  it  who  is  unclean,  and  it  is  con- 
sidered irreverent,  in  reading  it,  to  hold  it  below  the  girdle. 
Moslems  swear  by  it,  and  take  omens  from  its  pages,  by  open- 
ing it  and  reading  the  first  text  that  meets  the  eye.  With  all 
its  errors  and  discrepancies,  if  we  consider  it  mainly  as  the 
work  of  one  man,  and  that  an  unlettered  man,  it  remains  a 
stupendous  monument  of  solitary  legislation. 

Besides  the  Koran  or  written  law,  a  number  of  precepts  and 
apologues  which  casually  fell  from  the  lips  of  Mahomet  were 
collected  after  his  death  from  ear-witnesses,  and  transcribed 
into  a  book  called  the  Sonna  or  Oral  Law.  This  is  held  equally 
sacred  with  the  Koran  by  a  sect  of  Mahometans  thence  called 
Sonnites ;  others  reject  it  as  apocryphal ;  these  last  are  termed 
Schiites.  Hostilities  and  persecutions  have  occasionally  taken 
place  between  these  sects  almost  as  virulent  as  those  which, 
between  Catholics  and  Protestants,  have  disgraced  Christian- 
ity. The  Sonnites  are  distinguished  by  white,  the  Schiites  by 
red  turbans ;  hence  the  latter  have  received  from  their  antago- 
nists the  appellation  of  Kussilbachi,  or  Red  Heads. 

It  is  remarkable  that  circumcision,  which  is  invariably  prac- 
tised by  the  Mahometans,  and  forms  a  distinguishing  rite  of 
their  faith,  to  which  all  proselytes  must  conform,  is  neither 
mentioned  in  the  Koran  nor  the  Sonna.  It  seems  to  have  been 
a  general  usage  in  Arabia,  tacitly  adopted  from  the  Jews,  and 
is  even  said  to  have  been  prevalent  throughout  the  East  before 
the  time  of  Moses. 

It  is  said  that  the  Koran  forbids  the  making  likenesses  of 
any  living  thing,  which  has  prevented  the  introduction  of  por- 
trait-painting among  Mahometans.  The  passage  of  the  Koran, 
however,  which  is  thought  to  contain  the  prohibition,  seems 
merely  an  echo  of  the  second  commandment,  held  sacred  by 
Jews  and  Christians,  not  to  form  images  or  pictures  for  wor- 
ship.    One  of  Mahomet's  standards  was  a  black  eagle.    Among 


208  MAHOMET  AND  JITS  SUCCESSORS. 

the  most  distinguished  Moslem  ornaments  of  the  Alhambra  at 
Granada  is  a  fountain  supported  by  lions  carved  of  stone,  and 
some  Moslem  monarchs  have  had  their  effigies  stamped  on 
their  coins. 

Another  and  an  important  mistake  with  regard  to  the  system 
of  Mahomet  is  the  idea  that  it  denies  souls  to  the  female  sex, 
and  excludes  them  from  paradise.  This  error  arises  from  his 
omitting  to  mention  their  enjoyments  in  a  future  state,  while 
he  details  those  of  Ins  own  sex  with  the  minuteness  of  a  volup- 
tuary. The  beatification  of  virtuous  females  is  alluded  to  in 
the  56th  Sura  of  the  Koran,  and  also  in  other  places,  although 
from  the  vagueness  of  the  language  a  cursory  reader  might 
suppose  the  Houris  of  paradise  to  be  intended. 

The  fourth  article  of  faith  relates  to  the  prophets.  Their 
number  amounts  to  two  hundred  thousand,  but  only  six  are 
supereminent,  as  having  brought  new  laws  and  dispensations 
upon  earth,  each  abrogating  those  previously  received  where- 
ever  they  varied  or  were  contradictory.  These  six  distin- 
guished prophets  were  Adam,  Noah,  Abraham,  Moses,  Jesus, 
and  Mahomet. 

The  fifth  article  of  Islam  faith  is  on  the  resurrection  and 
the  final  judgment.  On  this  awful  subject  Mahomet  blended 
some  of  the  Christian  belief  with  certain  notions  current  among 
the  Arabian  Jews.  One  of  the  latter  is  the  fearful  tribunal  of 
the  Sepulchre.  When  Azra'il,  the  angel  of  death,  has  per- 
formed his  office,  and  the  corpse  has  been  consigned  to  the 
tomb,  two  black  angels,  Munkar  and  Nakeer,  of  dismal  and 
appalling  aspect,  present  themselves  as  inquisitors;  during 
whose  scrutiny  the  soul  is  reunited  to  the  body.  The  defunct, 
being  commanded  to  sit  up,  is  interrogated  as  to  the  two  great 
points  of  faith,  the  unity  of  God,  and  the  divine  mission  of 
Mahomet,  and  likewise  as  to  the  deeds  done  by  him  during 
life;  and  his  replies  are  recorded  in  books  against  the  day  of 
judgment.  Should  they  be  satisfactory,  hrs  soul  is  gently 
drawn  forth  from  his  lips,  and  Ins  body  left  to  its  repose; 
should  they  be  otherwise,  he  is  beaten  about  the  brows  with 
iron  clubs,  and  his  soul  wrenched  forth  with  racking  tortures. 
For  the  convenience  of  this  awful  inquisition,  the  Mahometans 
generally  deposit  their  dead  in  hollow  or  vaulted  sepulchres ; 
merely  wrapped  in  funeral  clothes,  but  not  placed  in  cof- 
fins. 

The  space  of  time  between  death  and  resurrection  is  called 
Berzak,  or  the  Interval.     During  this  period  the  body  rests  in 


MAHOMET  AND  JUS  SUCCESSORS.  200 

the  grave,  but  the  soul  has  a  foretaste,  in  dreams  or  visions,  of 
its  future  doom. 

The  soids  of  prophets  are  admitted  at  once  into  the  full  frui- 
tion of  paradise.  Those  of  martyrs,  including  all  who  die  in 
battle,  enter  into  the  bodies  or  crops  of  green  birds,  who  feed 
on  the  fruits  and  drink  of  the  streams  of  paradise.  Those  of 
the  great  mass  of  true  believers  are  variously  disposed  of,  but, 
according  to  the  most  received  opinion,  they  hover,  in  a  state 
of  seraphic  tranquillity,  near  the  tombs.  Hence  the  Moslem 
usage  of  visiting  the  graves  of  their  departed  friends  and  rel- 
atives, in  the  idea  that  their  souls  are  the  gratified  witnesses 
these  testimonials  of  affection. 

Many  Moslems  believe  that  the  souls  of  the  truly  faithful  as- 
sume the  forms  of  snow-white  birds,  and  nestle  beneath  the 
throne  of  Allah ;  a  belief  in  accordance  with  an  ancient  super- 
stition of  the  Hebrews,  that  the  souls  of  the  just  will  have  a 
place  in  heaven  under  the  throne  of  glory. 

With  regard  to  the  souls  of  infidels,  the  most  orthodox  opi- 
nion is  that  they  will  be  repulsed  by  angels  both  from  heaven 
and  earth,  and  cast  into  the  cavernous  bowels  of  the  earth, 
there  to  await  in  tribulation  the  day  of  judgment. 

The  day  of  resurrection  will  be  preceded  by  signs  and  por- 
tents in  heaven  and  earth.  A  total  eclipse  of  the  moon;  a 
change  in  the  course  of  the  sun,  rising  in  the  west  instead  of 
the  east;  wars  and  tumults;  a  universal  decay  of  faith;  the 
advent  of  Antichrist ;  the  issuing  forth  of  Gog  and  Magog  to 
desolate  the  world;  a  great  smoke,  covering  the  whole  earth— 
these  and  many  more  prodigies  and  omens  affrighting  and 
harassing  the  souls  of  men,  and  producing  a  wretchedness  of 
spirit  and  a  weariness  of  life ;  insomuch  that  a  man  passing  by 
a  grave  shall  envy  the  quiet  dead,  and  say,  "  Would  to  God  I 
were  in  thy  place!" 

The  last  dread  signal  of  the  awful  day  will  be  the  blast  of  a 
trumpet  by  the  archangel  Israfil.  At  the  sound  thereof  the 
earth  will  tremble ;  castles  and  towers  will  be  shaken  to  the 
ground,  and  mountains  levelled  with  the  plains.  The  face  of 
heaven  will  be  darkened ;  the  firmament  will  melt  away,  and 
the  sun,  the  moon,  and  stars  will  fall  into  the  sea.  The  ocean 
will  be  either  dried  up,  or  will  boil  and  roll  in  fiery  billows. 

At  the  soimd  of  that  dreadful  trump  a  panic  will  fall  on  the 
human  race ;  men  vv-ill  fly  from  their  brothers,  their  parents, 
and  then-  wives;  and  mothers,  in  frantic  terror,  abandon  the 
infant  at  the  breast.    The  savage  beasts  of  the  forests  and 


210  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

the  tame  animals  of  the  pasture  will  forget  their  fierceness 
and  their  antipathies,  and  herd  together  in  affright. 

The  second  blast  of  the  trumpet  is  the  blast  of  extermination. 
At  that  sound,  all  creatures  in  heaven  and  on  earth  and  in  the 
waters  under  the  earth,  angels  and  genii  and  men  and  animals, 
all  will  die ;  excepting  the  chosen  few  especially  reserved  by 
Allah.     The  last  to  die  will  be  Azrai'l,  the  angel  of  death ! 

Forty  days,  or,  according  to  explanations,  forty  years  of 
continued  rain  will  follow  this  blast  of  extermination;  then 
will  be  sounded  for  the  third  time  the  trumpet  of  the  arch- 
angel Israfil ;  it  is  the  call  to  judgment !  At  the  sound  of  this 
blast  the  whole  space  between  heaven  and  earth  will  be  filled 
with  the  souls  of  the  dead  flying  in  quest  of  their  respective 
bodies.  Then  the  earth  will  open ;  and  there  will  be  a  rattling 
of  dry  bones,  and  a  gathering  together  of  scattered  limbs;  the 
very  hairs  will  congregate  together,  and  the  whole  body  be  re- 
united, and  the  soul  will  re-enter  it,  and  the  dead  will  rise  from 
mutilation,  perfect  in  every  part  and  naked  as  when  born. 
The  infidels  will  grovel  with  their  faces  on  the  earth,  but  the 
faithful  will  walk  erect;  as  to  the  truly  pious,  they  will  be 
borne  aloft  on  winged  camels,  white  as  milk,  with  saddles  of 
fine  gold. 

Every  human  being  will  then  be  put  upon  his  trial  as  to  the 
manner  in  which  ho  has  employed  his  faculties,  and  the  good 
and  evil  actions  of  his  life.  A  mighty  balance  will  be  poised 
by  the  angel  Gabriel ;  in  one  of  the  scales,  termed  Light,  will 
be  placed  his  good  actions ;  in  the  other,  termed  Darkness,  his 
evil  deeds.  An  atom  or  a  grain  of  mustard-seed  will  suffice  to 
turn  this  balance ;  and  the  nature  of  the  sentence  will  depend 
on  the  preponderance  of  cither  scale.  At  that  moment  retri- 
bution will  be  exacted  for  every  wrong  and  injury.  He  who 
has  wronged  a  fellow-mortal  will  have  to  repay  him  with  a 
portion  of  his  own  good  deeds,  or,  if  he  have  none  to  boast  of, 
will  have  to  take  upon  himself  a  proportionate  weight  of  the 
other's  sins. 

The  trial  of  the  balance  will  be  succeeded  by  the  ordeal  of  the 
bridge.  The  whole  assembled  multitude  will  have  to  follow 
Mahomet  across  the  bridge  Al  Serat,  as  fine  as  the  edge  of  a 
scimetar,  which  crosses  the  gulf  of  Jehennarn  or  Hell.  Infidels 
and  sinful  Moslems  will  grope  along  it  darkling  and  fall  into 
the  abyss ;  but  the  faithful,  aided  by  a  beaming  light,  will  cross 
with  the  swif  tness  of  birds  and  enter  the  realms  of  paradise. 
Tbe  idea  of  this  bridge,  and  of  the  dreary  realms  of  Jehennarn, 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  211 

is  supposed  to  have  been  derived  partly  from  the  Jews,  but 
chiefly  from  the  Magians. 

Jehermam  is  a  region  fraught  with  all  kinds  of  horrors.  The 
very  trees  have  writhing  serpents  for  branches,  bearing  for 
fruit  the  heads  of  demons.  We  forbear  to  dwell  upon  the  par- 
ticulars of  this  dismal  abode,  which  are  given  with  painful  and 
often  disgusting  minuteness.  It  is  described  as  consisting  of 
seven  stages,  one  below  the  other,  and  varying  in  the  nature 
and  intensity  of  torment.  The  first  stage  is  allotted  to  A1  he- 
ists, who  deny  creator  and  creation,  and  believe  the  world  to 
be  eternal.  The  second  for  Manicheans  and  others  that  admit 
two  divine  principles ;  and  for  the  Arabian  idolaters  of  the  era 
of  Mahomet.  The  third  is  for  the  Brahmins  of  India ;  the  fourth 
for  the  Jews;  the  fifth  for  Christians;  the  sixth  for  the  Magians 
or  Ghebers  of  Persia ;  the  seventh  for  hypocrites,  who  profess 
without  believing  in  religion. 

The  fierce  angel  Thabeck,  that  is  to  say,  the  executioner,  pre- 
sides over  this  region  of  terror. 

We  must  observe  that  the  general  nature  of  Jehennam,  and 
the  distribution  of  its  punishments,  have  given  rise  to  various 
commentaries  and  expositions  among  the  Moslem  doctors.  It 
is  maintained  by  some,  and  it  is  a  popular  doctrine,  that  none 
of  the  believers  in  Allah  and  his  prophets  will  be  condemned  to 
eternal  punishment.  Their  sins  will  be  expiated  by  propor- 
tionate periods  of  suffering,  varying  from  nine  hundred  to 
nine  thousand  years. 

Some  of  the  most  humane  among  the  Doctors  contend 
against  eternity  of  punishment  to  any  class  of  sinners,  saying 
that,  as  God  is  all  merciful,  even  infidels  will  eventually  be 
pardoned.  Those  who  have  an  intercessor,  as  the  Christians 
have  in  Jesus  Christ,  will  be  first  redeemed.  The  liberality  of 
ihese  worthy  commentators,  however,  does  not  extend  so  far 
as  to  admit  them  into  paradise  among  true  believers ;  but  con- 
cludes that,  after  long  punishment,  they  will  be  relieved  from 
their  torments  by  annihilation. 

Between  Jehennam  and  paradise  is  Al  Araf  or  the  Partition, 
a  region  destitute  of  peace  or  pleasure,  destined  for  the  recep- 
tion of  infants,  lunatics,  idiots,  and  such  other  beings  as  have 
done  neither  good  nor  evil.  For  such,  too,  whose  good  and 
evil  deeds  balance  each  other ;  though  these  may  be  admitted 
to  paradise  through  the  intercession  of  Mahomet,  on  perform- 
ing an  act  of  adoration,  to  turn  the  scales  in  their  favor.  It  is 
said  that  the  tenants  of  this  region  can  converse  with  their 


212  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

neighbors  on  either  hand,  the  blessed  and  the  condemned ;  and 
that  Al  Araf  appears  a  paradise  to  those  in  hell  and  a  hell  to 
those  in  paradise. 

Al  Janet,  or  the  Garden. — When  the  true  believer  has 
passed  through  all  his  trials,  and  expiated  all  his  sins,  he  re- 
freshes himself  at  the  Pool  of  the  Prophet.  This  is  a  lake  of 
fragrant  water,  a  month's  journey  in  circuit,  fed  by  the  river 
Al  Cauther,  which  flows  from  paradise.  The  water  of  this  lake 
is  sweet  as  honey,  cold  as  snow,  and  clear  as  crystal ;  he  who 
once  tastes  of  it  will  never  more  be  tormented  by  thirst;  a 
blessing  dwelt  upon  with  peculiar  zest  by  Arabian  writers,  ac- 
customed to  the  parching  thirst  of  the  desert. 

After  the  true  believer  has  drunk  of  this  water  of  life,  the 
gate  of  paradise  is  opened  to  him  by  the  angel  Kushvan.  The 
same  prolixity  and  minuteness  which  occur  in  the  description 
of  Jehennam,  are  lavished  on  the  delights  of  paradise,  until 
the  imagination  is  dazzled  and  confused  by  the  details.  The 
soil  is  of  the  finest  wheaten  flour,  fragrant  with  perfumes, 
and  strewed  with  pearls  and  hyacinths  instead  of  sands  and 
pebbles. 

Some  of  the  streams  are  of  crystal  purity,  running  between 
green  banks  enamelled  with  flowers;  others  are  of  milk,  of 
wine  and  honey;  flowing  over  beds  of  musk,  between  margins 
of  camphire,  covered  with  moss  and  saffron  1  The  air  is  sweet- 
er than  the  spicy  gales  of  Sabea,  and  cooled  by  sparkling 
fountains.  Here,  too,  is  Taba,  the  wonderful  tree  of  life,  so 
largo  that  a  fleet  horse  would  need  a  hundred  years  to 
cross  its  shade.  The  boughs  are  laden  with  every  variety  of 
delicious  fruit,  and  bend  to  the  hand  of  those  who  seek  to 
gather. 

The  inhabitants  of  this  blissful  garden  are  clothed  in  raiment 
sparkling  with  jewels ;  they  wear  crowns  of  gold  enriched  with 
pearls  and  diamonds,  and  dwell  in  sumptuous  palaces  or  silken 
pavilions,  reclining  on  voluptuous  couches.  Here  every  be- 
liever will  have  hundreds  of  attendants,  bearing  dishes  and 
goblets  of  gold,  to  serve  him  with  every  variety  of  exquisite 
viand  and  beverage.  He  will  eat  without  satiety,  and  drink 
without  inebriation ;  the  last  morsel  and  the  last  drop  will  be 
equally  relished  with  the  first ;  he  will  feel  no  repletion,  and 
need  no  evacuation. 

The  air  will  resound  with  the  melodious  voice  of  Israfil,  and 
the  songs  of  the  daughters  of  paradise ;  the  very  rustling  of  the 
trees  will  produce  ravishing  harmony,  while  myriads  of  bells, 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  21 3 

hanging  among  their  branches,  will  be  put  in  dulcet  motion  by 
airs  from  the  throne  of  Allah. 

Above  all,  the  faithful  will  be  blessed  with  female  society  to 
the  full  extent  even  of  oriental  imaginings.  Besides  the  wives 
he  had  on  earth,  who  will  rejoin  him  in  all  their  pristine 
charms,  he  will  be  attended  by  the  Hur  al  Oyun,  or  Houris,  so 
called  from  their  large  black  eyes ;  resplendent  beings,  free  from 
every  human  defect  or  frailty;  perpetually  retaining  their 
youth  and  beauty,  and  renewing  their  virginity.  Seventy -two 
of  these  are  allotted  to  every  believer.  The  intercourse  with 
them  will  be  fruitful  or  not  according  to  them  wish,  and  the 
offspring  will  grow  within  an  hour  to  the  same  stature  with  the 
parents. 

That  the  true  believer  may  be  fully  competent  to  the  enjoy- 
ments of  this  blissful  region,  he  will  rise  from  the  grave  in  the 
prime  of  manhood,  at  the  age  of  thirty,  of  the  stature  of  Adam, 
which  was  thirty  cubits ;  with  all  his  faculties  improved  to  a 
state  of  preternatural  perfection,  with  the  abilities  of  a  hundred 
men,  and  with  desires  and  appetites  quickened  rather  than 
sated  by  enjoyment. 

These  and  similar  delights  are  promised  to  the  meanest  of  the 
faithful;  there  are  gradations  of  enjoyment,  however,  as  of 
merit;  but,  as  to  those  prepared  for  the  most  deserving,  Ma- 
homet found  the  powers  of  description  exhausted,  and  was 
fain  to  make  use  of  the  text  from  Scripture,  that  they  should 
be  such  things  "as  eye  hath  not  seen,  ear  hath  not  heard, 
neither  hath  it  entered  into  the  heart  of  man  to  conceive. " 

The  expounders  of  the  Mahometan  law  differ  in  their  opinions 
as  to  the  whole  meaning  of  this  system  of  rewards  and  punish- 
ments. One  set  understanding  everything  in  a  figurative,  the 
other  in  a  literal  sense.  The  former  insist  that  the  prophet 
spake  in  parable,  in  a  manner  suited  to  the  coarse  perceptions 
and  sensual  natures  of  his  hearers;  and  maintain  that  the  joys 
of  heaven  will  be  mental  as  well  as  corporeal;  the  resurrection 
being  of  both  soul  and  body.  The  soul  will  revel  in  a  super- 
natural development  and  employment  of  all  its  faculties ;  in  a 
knowledge  of  all  the  arcana  of  nature;  the  full  revelation  of 
everything  past,  present,  and  to  come.  The  enjoyments  of  the 
body  will  be  equally  suited  to  its  various  senses,  and  perfected 
to  a  supernatural  degree. 

The  same  expounders  regard  the  description  of  Jehennam  as 
equally  figurative;  the  torments  of  the  soul  consisting  in  the 
anguish  of  perpetual  remorse  for  past  crimes,  and  deep  and 


214  MAHOMET  AND  BIS  SUCCESSORS. 

ever-increasing  despair  for  the  loss  of  heaven ;  those  of  the  body 
in  excruciating  and  never-ending  pain. 

The  other  doctors,  who  construe  everything  in  a  literal 
sense,  are  considered  the  most  orthodox,  and  their  sect  is  be- 
yond measure  the  most  numerous.  Most  of  the  particulars  in 
the  system  of  rewards  and  punishments,  as  has  been  already 
observed,  have  close  affinity  to  the  superstitions  of  the  Magians 
and  the  Jewish  Eabbins.  The  Houri,  or  black-eyed  nymphs, 
who  figure  so  conspicuously  in  the  Moslem's  paradise,  are  said 
to  be  the  same  as  the  Huram  Behest  of  the  Persian  Magi,  and 
Mahomet  is  accused  by  Christian  investigators  of  having  pur- 
loined much  of  his  description  of  heaven  from  the  account  of 
the  New  Jerusalem  in  the  Apocalypse ;  with  such  variation  as 
is  used  by  knavish  jewellers,  when  they  appropriate  stolen 
jewels  to  their  own  use. 

The  sixth  and  last  article  of  the  Islam  faith  is  Predestina- 
tion, and  on  this  Mahomet  evidently  reposed  his  chief  depend- 
ence for  the  success  of  his  military  enterprises.  He  inculcated 
that  every  event  had  been  predetermined  by  God,  and  written 
down  in  the  eternal  tablet  previous  to  the  creation  of  the  world. 
That  the  destiny  of  every  individual,  and  the  hour  of  his  death, 
were  irrevocably  fixed,  and  could  neither  be  varied  nor  evaded 
by  any  effort  of  human  sagacity  or  foresight.  Under  this  per- 
suasion, the  Moslems  engaged  in  battle  without  risk;  and,  as 
death  in  battle  was  equivalent  to  martyrdom,  and  entitled 
them  to  an  immediate  admission  into  paradise,  they  had  in 
either  alternative,  death  or  victory,  a  certainty  of  gain. 

This  doctrine,  according  to  which  men  by  their  own  free  will 
can  neither  avoid  sin  nor  avert  punishment,  is  considered  by 
many  Mussulmen  as  derogatory  to  the  justice  and  clemency  of 
God ;  and  several  sects  have  sprung  up,  who  endeavor  to  soften 
and  explain  away  this  perplexing  dogma;  but  the  number  of 
these  doubters  is  small,  and  they  are  not  considered  orthodox. 

The  doctrine  of  Predestination  was  one  of  those  timely  reve- 
lations to  Mahomet,  that  were  almost  miraculous  from  their 
seasonable  occurrence.  It  took  place  immediately  after  the 
disastrous  battle  of  Ohod,  in  which  many  of  his  followers,  and 
among  them  his  uncle  Hamza,  were  slain.  Then  it  was,  in  a 
moment  of  gloom  and  despondency,  when  his  followers  around 
him  were  disheartened,  that  he  promulgated  this  law,  telling 
them  that  every  man  must  die  at  the  appointed  hour,  whether 
in  bed  or  in  the  field  of  battle.  He  declared,  moreover,  that  the 
angel  Gabriel  had  announced  to  him  the  reception  of  Hamza 


MA  no  MET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  21o 

into  the  seventh  heaven,  with  the  title  of  Lion  of  God  and  of 
the  Prophet.  He  added,  as  he  contemplated  the  dead  bodies, 
"  I  am  witness  for  these,  and  for  all  who  have  been  slain  for 
the  cause  of  God,  that  they  shall  appear  in  glory  at  the  resur- 
rection, with  their  wounds  brilliant  as  vermilion  and  odoriferous 
as  musk." 

What  doctrine  could  have  been  devised  more  calculated  to 
hurry  forward,  in  a  wild  career  of  conquest,  a  set  of  ignorant 
and  predatory  soldiers  than  this  assurance  of  booty  if  they  sur- 
vived, and  paradise  if  they  fell?  *  It  rendered  almost  irresisti- 
ble the  Moslem  arms ;  but  it  likewise  contained  the  poison  that 
was  to  destroy  their  dominion.  From  the  moment  the  succes- 
sors of  the  prophet  ceased  to  be  aggressors  and  conquerors,  and 
sheathed  the  sword  definitively,  the  doctrine  of  predestination 
began  its  baneful  work.  Enervated  by  peace,  and  the  sensuality 
permitted  by  the  Koran — which  so  distinctly  separates  its  doc- 
trines from  the  pure  and  self-denying  religion  of  the  Messiah — 
the  Moslem  regarded  every  reverse  as  preordained  by  Allah, 
and  inevitable;  to  be  borne  stoically,  since  human  exertion  and 
foresight  were  vain.  "  Help  thyself  and  God  will  help  thee," 
was  a  precept  never  in  force  with  the  followers  of  Mahomet, 
and  its  reverse  has  been  their  fate.  The  crescent  has  waned 
before  the  cross,  and  exists  in  Europe,  where  it  was  once  so 
mighty,  only  by  the  suffrage,  cr  rather  the  jealousy,  of  the 
great  Christian  powers,  probably  ere  long  to  furnish  another 
illustration,  that  "  they  that  take  the  sword  shall  perish  with 
the  sword." 

RELIGIOUS  PRACTICE. 

The  articles  of  religious  practice  are  fourfold:  Prayer,  in- 
cluding ablution,  Alms,  Fasting,  Pilgrimage. 

Ablution  is  enjoined  as  preparative  to  prayer,  purity  of 
body  being  considered  emblematical  of  purity  of  soul.  It  is 
prescribed  in  the  Koran  with  curious  precision.  The  face, 
arms,  elbows,  feet,  and  a  fourth  part  of  the  head,  to  be  washed 
once ;  the  hands,  mouth,  and  nostrils,  three  times,  the  ears  to 
be  moistened  with  the  residue  of  the  water  used  for  the  head, 
and  the  teeth  to  bo  cleaned  with  a  brush.  The  ablution  to 
commence  on  the  right  and  terminate  on  the  left ;  in  washing 


:':  The  reader  may  recollect  that  a  belief  in  predestination,  or  destiny,  was  en- 
couraged by  Napoleon,  and  bad  much  influence  on  his  troops. 


2 16  M AIIO MET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

the  hands  and  feet  to  begin  with  the  fingers  and  toes ;  where 
water  is  not  to  be  had,  fine  sand  may  be  used. 

Prayer  is  to  be  performed  five  times  every  day,  viz. :  the 
first  in  the  morning,  before  sunrise ;  the  second  at  noon ;  the 
third  in  the  afternoon,  before  sunset ;  the  fourth  in  the  even- 
ing, between  sunset  and  dark ;  the  fifth  between  twilight  and 
the  first  watch,  being  the  vesper  prayer.  A  sixth  prayer  is 
volunteered  by  many  between  the  first  watch  of  the  night  and 
the  dawn  of  day.  These  prayers  are  but  repetitions  of  the 
same  laudatory  ejaculation,  "  God  is  great!  God  is  powerful ! 
God  is  all  powerful  I"  and  are  counted  by  the  scrupulous  upon 
a  string  of  beads.  They  may  be  performed  at  the  mosque,  or 
in  any  clean  place.  During  prayer  the  eyes  are  turned  to  the 
Kebla,  or  point  of  the  heaven  in  the  direction  of  Mecca ;  which 
is  indicated  in  every  mosque  by  a  niche  called  Al  Mehrab,  and 
externally  by  the  position  of  the  minarets  and  doors.  Even 
the  postures  to  be  observed  in  prayer  are  prescribed,  and  the 
most  solemn  act  of  adoration  is  by  bowing  the  forehead  to  the 
ground.  Females  in  praying  are  not  to  stretch  forth  their 
arms,  but  to  fold  them  on  their  bosoms.  They  are  not  to  make 
as  profound  inflections  as  the  men.  They  are  to  pray  in  a  low 
and  gentle  tone  of  voice.  They  are  not  permitted  to  accom- 
pany the  men  to  the  mosque,  lest  the  minds  of  the  worshippers 
should  be  drawn  from  their  devotions.  In  addressing  them- 
selves to  God,  the  faithful  are  enjoined  to  do  so  with  humility; 
putting  aside  costly  ornaments  and  sumptuous  apparel. 

Many  of  the  Mahometan  observances  with  respect  to  prayer 
were  similar  to  those  previously  maintained  by  the  Sabeans ; 
others  agreed  with  the  ceremonials  prescribed  by  the  Jewish 
Eabbins.  Such  were  the  postures,  inflections,  and  prostra- 
tions, and  the  turning  of  the  face  toward  the  Kebla,  which, 
however,  with  the  Jews,  was  in  the  direction  of  the  temple  at 
Jerusalem. 

Prayer,  with  the  Moslem,  is  a  daily  exercise ;  but  on  Friday 
there  is  a,  sermon  in  the  mosque.  This  day  was  generally  held 
sacred  among  oriental  nations  as  the  day  on  which  man  was 
created.  The  Sabean  idolaters  consecrated  it  to  Astarte  or 
Venus,  the  most  beautiful  of  the-planets  and  brightest  of  the 
stars.  Mahomet  adopted  it  as  his  Sabbath,  partly  perhaps 
from  early  habitude,  but  chiefly  to  vary  from  the  Saturday  of 
the  Jews  and  Sunday  of  the  Christians. 

The  second  article  of  religious  practice  is  Charity,  or  the 
giving  of  alms.     There  are  two  kinds  of  aims,  viz. :  those  pre- 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  217 

scribed  by  law,  called  Zacat,  like  tithes  in  the  Christian 
church,  to  be  made  in  specified  proportions,  whether  in  money, 
wares,  cattle,  corn,  or  fruit;  and  voluntary  gifts,  termed  Sada- 
kat,  made  at  the  discretion  of  the  giver.  Every  Moslem  is 
enjoined,  in  one  way  or  the  other,  to  dispense  a  tenth  of  his 
revenue  in  relief  of  the  indigent  and  distressed. 

The  third  article  of  practice  is  Fasting,  also  supposed  to 
have  been  derived  from  the  Jews.  In  each  year  for  thirty 
days,  during  the  month  Rhamadan,  the  true  believer  is  to  ab- 
stain rigorously,  from  the  rising  to  the  setting  of  the  sun,  from 
meat  and  drink,  baths,  perfumes,  the  intercourse  of  the  sexes, 
and  all  other  gratifications  and  delights  of  the  senses.  This  is 
considei-ed  a  great  triumph  of  self-denial,  mortifying  and  sub- 
duing the  several  appetites,  and  purifying  both  body  and  soul. 
Of  these  three  articles  of  practice  the  Prince  Abdalasis  used 
to  say,  "  Prayer  leads  us  half  way  to  God;  fasting  conveys  us 
to  his  threshold,  but  alms  conduct  us  into  his  presence." 

Pilgrimage  is  the  fourth  grand  practical  duty  enjoined 
upon  Moslems.  Every  true  believer  is  bound  to  make  one  pil- 
grimage to  Mecca  in  the  course  of  his  life,  either  personally  or 
by  proxy.  In  the  latter  case  his  name  must  be  mentioned  in 
every  prayer  offered  up  by  his  substitute. 

Pilgrimage  is  incumbent  only  on  free  persons  of  mature  age, 
sound  intellect,  and  who  have  health  and  wealth  enough  to 
bear  the  fatigues  and  expenses  of  the  journey.  The  pilgrim 
before  his  departure  from  home  arranges  all  his  affairs,  public 
and  domestic,  as  if  preparing  for  his  death. 

On  the  appointed  day,  which  is  either  Tuesday,  Thursday, 
or  Saturday,  as  being  propitious  for  the  purpose,  he  assembles 
his  wives,  children,  and  all  his  household,  and  devoutly  com- 
mends them,  and  all  his  concerns  to  the  care  of  God  during  his 
holy  enterprise.  Then  passing  one  end  of  his  turban  beneath 
his  chin  to  the  opposite  side  of  his  head,  like  the  attire  of  a 
nun,  and  grasping  a  stout  staff  of  bitter  almonds,  he  takes 
leave  of  his  household,  and  sallies  from  the  apartment,  ex- 
claiming, "In the  name  of  God  I  undertake  this  holy  work, 
confiding  in  his  protection.  I  believe  in  him,  and  place  in 
his  hands  ray  actions  and  my  life." 

On  leaving  the  portal  ho  turns  his  face  toward  the  Kebla, 
repeats  certain  passages  of  the  Koran,  and  adds,  "I  turn  my 
face  to  the  Holy  Caaba,  the  throne  of  God.  to  accomplish  the 
pilgrimage  commanded  by  his  law,  and  which  shall  draw  me 
near  to  him." 


218  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

He  finally  puts  his  foot  in  the  stirrup,  mounts  into  the  sad- 
dle, commends  himself  again  to  God,  almighty,  all-wise,  all- 
merciful,  and  sets  forth  on  his  pilgrimage.  The  time  of 
departure  is  always  calculated  so  as  to  insure  an  arrival  at 
Mecca  at  the  beginning  of  the  pilgrim  month  Dhu'l-hajji. 

Three  laws  are  to  be  observed  throughout  this  pious  journey : 

1.  To  commence  no  quarrel. 

2.  To  bear  meekly  all  harshness  and  reviling. 

3.  To  promote  peace  and  good-will  among  his  companions  in 
the  caravan. 

He  is,  moreover,  to  be  liberal  in  his  donations  and  charities 
throughout  his  pilgrimage. 

When  arrived  at  some  place  in  the  vicinity  of  Mecca,  he 
allows  his  hair  and  nails  to  grow,  strips  himself  to  the  skin, 
and  assumes  the  Ihram  or  pilgrim  garb,  consisting  of  two 
scarfs,  without  seams  or  decorations,  and  of  any  stuff  except- 
ing silk.  One  of  these  is  folded  round  the  loins,  the  other 
thrown  over  the  neck  and  shoulders,  leaving  the  right  arm 
free.  The  head  is  uncovered,  but  the  aged  and  infirm  are  per- 
mitted to  fold  something  round  it  in  consideration  of  alms 
given  to  the  poor.  Umbrellas  are  allowed  as  a  protection 
against  the  sun,  and  indigent  pilgrims  supply  their  place  by  a 
rag  on  the  end  of  a  staff. 

The  instep  must  be  bare ;  and  peculiar  sandals  are  provided 
for  the  purpose,  or  a  piece  of  the  upper  leather  of  the  shoe  is 
cut  out.  The  pilgrim,  when  thus  attired,  is  termed  Al  Moh- 
rem. 

The  Ihram  of  females  is  an  ample  cloak  and  veil,  enveloping 
the  whole  person,  so  that,  in  strictness,  the  wrists,  the  ankles, 
and  even  the  eyes  should  be  concealed. 

When  once  assumed,  the  Ihram  must  be  worn  until  the  pil- 
grimage is  completed,  however  unsuited  it  may  be  to  the  sea- 
son or  the  weather.  While  wearing  it,  the  pilgrim  must 
abstain  from  all  licentiousness  of  language ;  all  sensual  inter- 
course; all  quarrels  and  acts  of  violence;  he  must  not  even 
take  the  life  of  an  insect  that  infests  him ;  though  an  exception 
is  made  in  regard  to  biting  dogs,  to  scorpions,  and  birds  of  prey. 

On  arriving  at  Mecca,  he  leaves-  his  baggage  in  some  shop, 
and,  without  attention  to  any  worldly  concern,  repairs  straight- 
way to  the  Caaba,  conducted  by  one  of  the  Metowefs  or  guides, 
who  are  always  at  hand  to  offer  their  services  to  pilgrims. 

Entering  the  mosque  by  the  Bab  el  Salam,  or  Gate  of  Salu- 
tation, ho  makes  four  prostrations,  and  repeats  certain  prayers 


MAHOMET  AND  MS  SUCCESSORS.  219 

as  he  passes  under  the  arch.  Approaching  the  Caaha,  he 
makes  four  prostrations  opposite  the  Black  Stone,  which  he 
then  kisses ;  or,  if  prevented  by  the  throng,  lie  touches  it  with 
his  right  hand,  and  kisses  that.  Departing  from  the  Black 
Stone,  and  keeping  the  building  on  his  left  hand,  he  makes  the 
seven  circuits,  the  three  first  quickly,  the  latter  four  with  slow 
and  solemn  pace.  Certain  prayers  are  repeated  in  a  low  voice, 
and  the  Black  Stone  kissed,  or  touched,  at  the  end  of  every 
circuit. 

The  Towaf,  or  procession,  round  the  Caaba  was  an  ancient 
ceremony,  observed  long  before  the  time  of  Mahomet,  and  per- 
formed by  both  sexes  entirely  naked.  Mahomet  prohibited 
this  exposure,  and  prescribed  the  Ihram,  or  pilgrim  dress. 
The  female  Haj ji  walk  the  Towaf  generally  during  the  night ; 
though  occasionally  they  perform  it  mingled  with  the  men 
in  the  daytime.* 

The  seven  circuits  being  completed,  the  pilgrim  presses  his 
breast  against  the  wall  between  the  Black  Stone  and  the  door 
of  the  Caaba,  and  with  outstretched  arms  prays  for  pardon  of 
his  sins. 

He  then  repairs  to  the  Makam,  or  station  of  Abraham,  makes 
four  prostrations,  prays  for  the  intermediation  of  the  Patri- 
arch, and  thence  to  the  well  Zem  Zem,  and  drinks  as  much  of 
the  water  as  he  can  swallow. 

During  all  this  ceremonial  the  uninstructed  Hajji  has  his 
guide  or  Metowef  close  at  his  heels,  muttering  prayers  for  him 
to  repeat.  He  is  now  conducted  out  of  the  mosque  by  the  gate 
Bab  el  Zafa  to  a  slight  ascent  about  fifty  paces  distant,  called 
the  Hill  of  Zafa,  when,  after  uttering  a  prayer  with  uplifted 
hands,  he  commences  the  holy  promenade,  called  the  Saa  or 
Say.  This  lies  through  a  straight  and  level  street,  called  Al 
Messa,  six  hundred  paces  in  length,  lined  with  shops  like  a 
bazaar,  and  terminating  at  a  place  called  Merowa,  The  walk 
of  the  Say  is  in  commemoration  of  the  wandering  of  Hagar 
over  the  same  ground,  in  search  of  water  for  her  child  Ish- 
mael.  The  pilgrim,  therefore,  walks  at  times  slowly,  with  an 
inquisitive  air,  then  runs  in  a  certain  place,  and  again  walks 
gravely,  stopping  at  times  and  looking  anxiously  back. 

Having  repeated  the  wralk  up  and  down  this  street  seven 
times,  the  Hajji  enters  a  barber's  shop  at  Merowa;  his  head  is 
shaved,  his  nails  pared,  the  barber  muttering  prayers  and  the 

*  Burckhardt's  Travels  in  Arabia,  vol.  i.  p.  SCO.    Lond.  edit.,  1829. 


220  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

pilgrim  repeating  them  all  the  time.  The  paring  and  shearing 
are  then  buried  in  consecrated  ground,  and  the  most  essential 
duties  of  the  pilgrimage  are  considered  as  fulfilled.* 

On  the  ninth  of  the  month  Al  Dhu'l-hajji,  the  pilgrims  make 
a  hurried  and  tumultuous  visit  to  Mount  Arafat,  where  they 
remain  until  sunset ;  then  pass  the  night  in  prayer  at  an  Ora- 
tory, called  Mozdalifa,  and  before  sunrise  next  morning  repair 
to  the  valley  of  Mena,  where  they  throw  seven  stones  at  each 
of  three  pillars,  in  imitation  of  Abraham,  and  some  say  also 
of  Adam,  who  drove  away  the  devil  from  this  spot  with 
stones,  when  disturbed  by  him  in  his  devotions. 

Such  are  the  main  ceremonies  which  form  this  great  Moslem 
rite  of  pilgrimage ;  but,  before  concluding  tins  sketch  of  Islam 
faith,  and  closing  this  legendary  memoir  of  its  founder,  we 
cannot  forbear  to  notice  one  of  his  innovations,  which  has  en- 
taded  perplexity  on  aU  his  followers,  and  particular  inconven- 
ience on  pious  pilgrims. 

The  Arabian  year  consists  of  twelve  lunar  months,  contain- 
ing alternately  thirty  and  twenty-nine  days,  and  making  three 
hundred  and  fifty-four  in  the  whole,  so  that  eleven  days  were 
lost  in  every  solar  year.  To  make  up  the  deficiency,  a  thir- 
teenth or  wandering  month  was  added  to  every  third  year, 
previous  to  the  era  of  Mahomet,  to  the  same  effect  as  one  day 
is  added  in  the  Christian  calendar  to  every  leap-year.  Maho- 
met, who  was  uneducated  and  ignorant  of  astronomy,  re- 
trenched this  thirteenth  or  intercalary  month,  as  contrary  to 
the  divine  order  of  revolutions  of  the  moon,  and  reformed  the 
calendar  by  a  divine  revelation  during  his  last  pilgrimage. 
This  is  recorded  in  the  ninth  sura  or  chapter  of  the  Koran,  to 
the  following  effect : 

"  For  the  number  of  months  is  twelve,  as  was  ordained  by 
Allah,  and  recorded  on  the  eternal  tables  t  on  the  day  wherein 
he  created  the  heaven  and  the  earth. 


*  The  greater  part  of  the  particulars  concerning  Mecca  and  Medina,  and  their  re- 
spective pilgrimages,  are  gathered  from  the  writings  of  that  accurate  and  indefati- 
gable traveller,  Burckhardt,  who,  in  the  disguise  of  a  pilgrim,  visited  these  shrines 
and  complied  with  all  the  forms  and  ceremonials.  His  works  throw  great  light 
upon  the  manners  and  customs  of  the  East,  and  practice  of  the  Mahometan  faith, 

The  facts  related  by  Burckhardt  have  been  collated  with  those  of  other  travellers 
and  writers,  and  many  particulars  have  been  interwoven  with  them  from  other 
sources. 

t  The  eternal  tables  or  tablet  was  of  white  pearl,  extended  from  east  to  west  and 
from  earth  to  heaven.  All  the  decrees  of  God  were  recorded  on  Tt,  and  all  events 
past,  present,  and  to  come,  to  all  eternity.     It  was  guarded  by  angels. 


MAHOMET  AND  JUS  SUCCESSORS.  2:21 

"Transfer  not  a  sacred  month  unto  another  month,  for 
verily  it  is  an  innovation  of  the  infidels." 

The  number  of  days  thus  lost  amount  in  33  years  to  303.  It 
becomes  necessary,  therefore,  to  add  an  intercalary  year  at 
the  end  of  each  thirty-third  year  to  reduce  the  Mahometan 
into  the  Christian  era. 

One  great  inconvenience  arising  from  this  revelation  of  the 
prophet  is,  that  the  Moslem  months  do  not  indicate  the  season, 
as  they  commence  earlier  by  eleven  days  every  year.  This  at 
certain  epochs  is  a  sore  grievance  to  the  votaries  to  Mecca,  as 
the  great  pilgrim  month  Dhu'l-hajji,  during  which  they  are 
compelled  to  wear  the  Ihram,  or  half-naked  pilgrim  garb,  runs 
the  round  of  the  seasons,  occurring  at  one  time  in  the  depth  of 
winter,  at  another  in  the  fervid  heat  of  summer. 

Thus  Mahomet,  though  according  to  legendary  history  he 
could  order  the  moon  from  the  firmament  and  make  her  re- 
volve about  the  sacred  house,  could  not  control  her  monthly 
revolutions ;  and  found  that  the  science  of  numbers  is  superior 
even  to  the  gift  of  prophecy,  and  sets  miracles  at  defiance. 


PART   II. 


PREFACE. 


It  is  the  intention  of  the  author  in  the  following  pages  to 
trace  the  progress  of  the  Moslem  dominion  from  the  death  of 
Mahomet,  in  a.d.  622,  to  the  invasion  of  Spain,  in  a.d.  710.  In 
this  period,  which  did  not  occupy  fourscore  and  ten  years,  and 
passed  within  the  lifetime  of  many  an  aged  Arab,  the  Moslems 
extended  their  empire  and  their  faith  over  the  wide  regions  of 
Asia  and  Africa,  subverting  the  empire  of  the  Khosrus,  sub- 
jugating great  territories  in  India,  establishing  a  splendid  seat 
of  power  in  Syria,  dictating  to  the  conquered  kingdom  of  the 
Pharaohs,  overrunning  the  whole  northern  coast  of  Africa, 
scouring  the  Mediterranean  with  their  ships,  carrying  their 
conquests  in  one  direction  to  the  very  walls  of  Constantinople, 
and  in  another  to  the  extreme  limits  ol  Mauritania ;  in  a  word, 
trampling  down  all  the  old  dynasties  which  once  held  haughty 
and  magnificent  sway  in  the  East.  The  whole  presents  a 
striking  instance  of  the  triumph  of  fanatic  enthusiasm  over 
disciplined  valor,  at  a  period  when  the  invention  of  firearms 
had  not  reduced  war  to  a  matter  of  almost  arithmetical  calcu- 
lation. There  is  also  an  air  of  wild  romance  about  many  of 
the  events  recorded  in  this  nari'ative,  owing  to  the  character 
of  the  Arabs,  and  their  fondness  for  stratagems,  daring  ex- 
ploits, and  individual  achievements  of  an  extravagant  natui'e. 
These  have  sometimes  been  softened,  if  not  suppressed,  by 
cautious  historians;  but  the  author  has  found  them  so  in 
unison  with  the  people  and  the  times,  and  with  a  career  of 
conquest,  of  itself  out  of  the  bounds  of  common  probability, 
that  he  has  been  induced  to  leave  them  in  all  their  grapliic 
force. 

Those  who  have  read  the  life  of  Mahomet  will  find  in  the  fol- 
lowing pages  most  of  their  old  acquaintances  again  engaged, 
but  in  a  vastly  grander  field  of  action;  leading  armies,  sub- 


MAH0ME1   AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  223 

Jugating  empires,  and  dictating  from  the  palaces  and  thrones 
of  deposed  potentates. 

In  constructing  his  woi'k,  which  is  merely  intended  for  pop- 
ular use,  the  author  has  adopted  a  form  somewhat  between 
biography  and  chronicle,  admitting  of  personal  anecdote,  and 
a  greater  play  of  familiar  traits  and  peculiarities  than  is  con- 
sidered admissible  in  the  stately  walk  of  history.  His  igno- 
rance of  the  oriental  languages  has  obliged  him  to  take  his 
materials  at  second  hand,  where  he  could  have  wished  to  read 
them  in  the  original;  such,  for  instance,  has  been  the  case  with 
the  accounts  given  by  the  Arabian  writer,  Al  Wakidi,  of  the 
conquest  of  Syria,  and  especially  of  the  siege  of  Damascus, 
which  retain  much  of  their  dramatic  spirit  even  in  the  homely 
pages  of  Ockley.  To  this  latter  writer  the  author  has  been 
much  indebted,  as  well  as  to  the  Abbe  de  Marigny's  History  of 
the  Arabians,  and  to  D'Herbelot's  Bibliotheque  Orientale.  In 
fact  his  pages  are  often  a  mere  digest  of  facts  already  before 
the  public,  but  divested  of  cumbrous  diction  and  uninteresting 
details.  Some,  however,  are  furnished  from  sources  recently 
laid  open,  and  not  hitherto  wrought  into  the  regular  web  of 
history. 

In  his  account  of  the  Persian  conquest,  the  author  has  been 
much  benefited  by  the  perusal  of  the  Gemaldesaal  of  the 
learned  Hammer-Furgstali,  and  by  a  translation  of  the  Per- 
sian historian  Tabari,  recently  given  to  the  public  through  the 
pages  of  the  Journal  of  the  American  Oriental  Society,  by  Mr. 
John  P.  Brown,  dragoman  of  the  United  States  legation  at 
Constantinople. 

In  the  account  of  the  Moslem  conquests  along  the  northern 
coast  of  Africa,  of  which  so  little  is  known,  he  has  gleaned 
many  of  his  facts  from  Conde's  Domination  of  the  Arabs  in 
Spain,  and  from  the  valuable  work  on  the  same  subject,  re- 
cently put  forth  under  the  sanction  of  the  Oriental  Translation 
Fund  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland,  by  his  estimable  friend, 
Don  Pascual  de  G-ayangos,  formerly  Professor  of  Arabic  in  the 
Athenseum  of  Madrid. 

The  author  might  cite  other  sources  whence  he  has  derived 
scattered  facts ;  but  it  appears  to  him  that  he  has  already  said 
enough  on  this  point,  about  a  work  written  more  through  in- 
clination than  ambition ;  and  which,  as  before  intimated,  does 
not  aspire  to  be  consulted  as  authority,  but  merely  to  be  read 
as  a  digest  of  current  knowledge,  adapted  to  popular  use. 

SUNNYSIDE,   1850. 


224  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

ELECTION  OF  ABU  BEKER,  FIRST  CALIPH,  HEGIRA  11.  A.D.  632. 

The  death  of  Mahomet  loft  his  religion  without  a  head  and 
his  people  without  a  sovereign ;  there  was  danger,  therefore, 
of  the  newly  formed  empire  falling  into  confusion.  All  Me- 
dina, on  the  day  of  his  death,  was  in  a  kind  of  tumult,  and 
nothing  but  the  precaution  of  Osama  Ibn  Zeid  in  planting  the 
standard  before  the  prophet's  door,  and  posting  troops  in 
various  parts,  prevented  popular  commotions.  The  question 
was,  on  whom  to  devolve  the  reins  of  government?  Four 
names  stood  prominent  as  having  claims  of  affinity:  Abu 
Beker,  Omar,  Othman,  and  Ali.  Abu  Beker  was  the  father  of 
Ayesha,  the  favorite  wife  of  Mahomet.  Omar  was  father  of 
Hafsa,  another  of  his  wives,  and  the  one  to  whose  care  he  had 
confided  the  coffer  containing  the  revelations  of  the  Koran. 
Othman  had  married  successively  two  of  his  daughters,  but 
they  were  dead,  and  also  their  progeny.  Ah.  was  cousin 
german  of  Mahomet  and  husband  of  Fatima,  his  only  daugh- 
ter. Such  were  the  ties  of  relationship  to  him  of  these  four 
great  captains.  The  right  of  succession,  in  order  of  consan- 
guinity, lay  with  Ali ;  and  Ills  virtues  and  services  eminently 
entitled  him  to  it.  On  the  first  burst  of  his  generous  zeal, 
when  Islamism  was  a  derided  and  persecuted  faith,  he  had 
been  pronounced  by  Mahomet  his  brother,  his  vicegerent ;  he 
had  ever  since  been  devoted  to  liim  in  word  and  deed,  and  had 
honored  the  cause  by  his  magnanimity  as  signally  as  he  had 
vindicated  it  by  his  valor.  His  friends,  confiding  in  the  jus- 
tice of  his  claims,  gathered  round  him  in  the  dwelling  of  his 
wife  Fatima,  to  consult  about  means  of  putting  him  quietly  in 
possession  of  the  government. 

Other  interests,  however,  were  at  work,  operating  upon  the 
public  mind.  Abu  Beker  was  held  up,  not  merely  as  connected 
by  marriage  ties  with  the  prophet,  but  as  one  of  the  first  and 
most  zealous  of  his  disciples ;  as  the  voucher  for  the-iruth  of  his 
night  journey ;  as  his  fellow-sufferer  in  persecution ;  as  the  one 
who  accompanied  him  in  his  flight  from  Mecca ;  as  his  compan- 
ion in  the  cave  wnen  they  wei-e  miraculously  saved  from  dis- 
covery ;  as  his  counsellor  and  co-operator  in  all  his  plans  and 


MAHOMET  AND   HIS  SVCCESSOltS.  225 

undertakings ;  as  the  one  in  fact  whom  the  prophet  had  plainly 
pointed  out  as  his  successor,  by  deputing  him  to  officiate  in  hi:; 
stead  in  the  religious  ceremonies  during  his  last  illness.  His 
claims  were  strongly  urged  by  his  daughter  Ayesha,  who  had 
great  influence  among  the  f  aithf  id ;  and  who  was  stimulated 
not  so  much  by  zeal  for  her  father,  as  by  hatred  of  Ah,  whom 
she  had  never  forgiven  for  having  inclined  his  ear  to  the 
charge  of  incontinence  against  her  in  the  celebrated  case 
entitled  The  False  Accusation. 

Omar  also  had  a  powerful  party  among  the  populace,  who 
admired  him  for  his  lion-like  demeanor,  his  consummate  mili- 
tary skill,  his  straightforward  simplicity,  and  dauntless  courage. 
He  also  had  an  active  female  partisan  in  his  daughter  Hafsa. 

While  therefore  Ali  and  his  friends  were  hi  quiet  counsel  in 
the  house  of  Fatima,  many  of  the  principal  Moslems  gathered 
together  without  their  knowledge,  to  settle  the  question  of 
succession.  The  two  most  important  personages  in  tliis  assem- 
blage were  Abu  Beker  and  Omar.  The  first  measure  was  to 
declare  the  supreme  power  not  hereditary  but  elective;  a 
measure  which  at  once  destroyed  the  claims  of  Ah  on  the  score 
of  consanguinity,  and  left  the  matter  open  to  the  public  choice. 
This  has  been  ascribed  to  the  jealousy  of  the  Koreishites  of  the 
line  of  Abd  Schems;  who  feared,  should  Ali's  claims  be  recog- 
nized, that  the  sovereign  power,  like  the  guardianship  of  the 
Caaba,  might  be  perpetuated  in  the  haughty  line  of  Haschem. 
Some,  however,  pretend  to  detect  in  it  the  subtle  and  hostile 
influence  of  Ayesha. 

A  dispute  now  arose  between  the  Mohadjerins  or  refugees 
from  Mecca  and  the  Ansarians  or  Helpers  of  Medina,  as  to  the 
claims  of  their  respective  cities  in  nominating  a  successor  to 
Mahomet.  The  former  founded  the  claims  of  Mecca  on  its 
being  the  birthplace  of  the  prophet,  and  the  first  in  which  his 
doctrines  had  been  divulged ;  they  set  forward  their  own  claims 
also  as  his  townsmen,  his  relatives,  and  the  companions  of  his 
exile.  The  Ansarians,  on  the  other  hand,  insisted  on  the 
superior  claims  of  Medina,  as  having  been  the  asylum  of  the 
prophet,  and  his  chosen  residence ;  and  on  their  own  claims  as 
having  supported  him  in  his  exile,  and  enabled  him  to  with- 
stand and  overcome  his  persecutors. 

The  dispute  soon  grew  furious,  and  scimetars  flashed  from 
their  scabbards,  when  one  of  the  people  of  Medina  proposed  as 
a  compromise  that  each  party  should  furnish  a  ruler  and  the 
government  have  two  heads.    Omar  derided  the  proposition 


226  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

with  scorn.  "Tm^o  blades,"  said  he,  "cannot  go  into  one 
sheath."  Abu  Beker  also  remonsti'ated  against  a  measure  cal- 
culated to  weaken  the  empire  in  its  very  infancy.  He  con- 
jured the  Moslems  to  remain  under  one  head,  and  named 
Omar  and  Abu  Obeidah  as  persons  worthy  of  the  office,  and 
between  whom  they  should  choose.  Abu  Obeidah  was  one  of 
the  earliest  disciples  of  Mahomet ;  he  had  accompanied  him  in 
his  flight  from  Mecca,  and  adhered  to  him  in  all  his  fortunes. 

The  counsel  of  Abu  Beker  calmed  for  a  time  the  turbulence 
of  the  assembly,  but  it  soon  revived  with  redoubled  violence. 
Upon  this  Omar  suddenly  rose,  advanced  to  Abu  Beker,  and 
hailed  him  as  the  oldest,  best,  and  most  thoroughly -tried  of  the 
adherents  of  the  prophet,  and  the  one  most  worthy  to  succeed 
him.  So  saying,  he  kissed  his  hand  in  token  of  allegiance,  and 
swore  to  obey  him  as  his  sovereign. 

This  sacrifice  of  Iris  own  claims  in  favor  of  a  rival  struck  the 
assembly  with  surprise,  and  opened  their  eyes  to  the  real  merits 
of  Abu  Beker.  They  beheld  in  him  the  faithful  companion 
of  the  prophet,  who  had  always  been  by  his  side.  They  knew 
his  wisdom  and  moderation,  and  venerated  his  gray  hairs.  It 
appeared  but  reasonable  that  the  man  whose  counsels  had  con- 
tributed to  establish  the  government,  should  be  chosen  to  carry 
it  on.  The  example  of  Omar,  therefore,  was  promptly  followed, 
and  Abu  Beker  was  hailed  as  chief. 

Omar  now  ascended  the  pulpit.  "  Henceforth,"  said  he,  "if 
any  one  shall  presume  to  take  upon  himself  the  sovereign 
power  without  the  public  voice,  let  him  suffer  death ;  as  well  as 
all  who  may  nominate  or  uphold  him."  This  measure  was 
instantly  adopted,  and  thus  a  bar  was  put  to  the  attempts  of 
any  other  candidate. 

The  whole  policy  of  Omar  in  these  measures,  which  at  first 
sight  appears  magnanimous,  has  been  cavilled  at  as  crafty  and 
selfish.  Abu  Beker,  it  is  observed,  was  well  stricken  in  years, 
being  about  the  same  age  with  the  prophet ;  it  was  not  prob- 
able he  would  long  survive.  Omar  trusted,  therefore,  to 
succeed  in  a  little  while  to  the  command.  His  last  measure 
struck  at  once  at  the  hopes  of  Ali,  his  most  formidable  compet- 
itor; who,  shut  up  with  his  friends  in  the  dwelling  of  Fatima, 
knew  nothing  of  the  meeting  in  which  his  pretensions  were 
thus  demolished.  Craft,  however,  we  must  observe,  was  not 
one  of  Omar's  characteristics,  and  was  totally  opposed  to  the 
prompt,  stern,  and  simple  course  of  his  conduct  on  all  occa- 
ls;  nor  did  he  ever  show  any  craving  lust  for  power.     He 


MA  HO  VET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  907 

seems  ever  to  have  been  a  zealot  in  the  cause  of  Islam,  and  to 
have  taken  no  indirect  measures  to  promote  it. 

His  next  movement  was  indicative  of  his  straightforward 
cut-and-thrust  policy.  Abu  Beker,  wary  and  managing,  feared 
there  might  be  some  outbreak  on  the  part  of  Ali  and  Ins  friends 
when  they  should  hear  of  the  election  which  had  taken  place. 
He  requested  Omar,  therefore,  to  proceed  with  an  armed  bond 
to  the  mansion  of  Fatima,  and  maintain  tranquillity  in  that 
quarter.  Omar  surrounded  the  house  with  his  followers ;  an- 
nounced to  Ali  the  election  of  Abu  Beker,  and  demanded  his 
concurrence.  Ali  attempted  to  remonstrate,  alleging  his  own 
claims;  but  Omar  proclaimed  the  penalty  of  death  decreed  to 
all  who  should  attempt  to  usurp  the  sovereign  power  in  defi- 
ance of  public  will,  and  threatened  to  enforce  it  by  setting  fire 
to  the  house  and  consuming  its  inmates. 

"Oh  son  of  Khattab!"  cried  Fatima  reproachfully,  "thou 
wilt  not  siirely  commit  such  an  outrage !" 

"Ay  will  I  in  very  truth!"  replied  Omar,  "unless  ye  all 
make  common  cause  with  the  people. " 

The  friends  of  Ah  were  fain  to  yield,  and  to  acknowledge  the 
sovereignty  of  Abu  Beker.  Ali,  however,  held  himself  apart 
in  proud  and  indignant  reserve  until  the  death  of  Fatima, 
which  happened  in  the  course  of  several  months.  He  then 
paid  tardy  homage  to  Abu  Beker,  but,  in  so  doing,  upbraided 
him  with  want  of  openness  and  good  faith  in  managing  the 
election  without  his  privity ;  a  reproach  which  the  reader  will 
probably  think  not  altogether  unmerited.  Abu  Beker,  how- 
ever, disavowed  all  intrigue,  and  declared  he  had  accepted  the 
sovereignty  merely  to  allay  the  popular  commotion ;  and  was 
ready  to  lay  it  down  whenever  a  more  worthy  candidate  could 
be  found  who  would  unite  the  wishes  of  the  people. 

Ali  was  seemingly  pacified  by  this  explanation ;  but  he 
spurned  it  in  his  heart,  and  retired  in  disgust  into  the  interior 
of  Arabia,  taking  with  him  his  two  sons  Hassan  and  Hosein,  the 
only  descendants  of  the  prophet.  From  these  have  sprung  a 
numerous  progeny,  who  to  this  day  are  considered  noble,  and 
wear  green  turbans  as  the  outward  sign  of  their  illustrious 
lineage. 


228  MAUOMET  AM)  U1.S  SUCCESSORS. 


CHAPTER  II. 

MODERATION"  OF  ABU  BEKER — TRAITS  OP  HIS  CHARACTER— REBEL- 
LION OP  ARAB  TRIBES — DEFEAT  AND  DEATH  OP  MALEC  IBN 
NOWIRAH —  HARSH  MEASURES  OF  KHALED  CONDEMNED  BY 
OMAR,  BUT  EXCUSED  BY  ABU  BEKER— KHALED  DEFEATS  MO- 
SEILMA  THE  FALSE  PROPHET— COMPILATION  OF  THE  KORAN. 

On  assuming  the  supreme  authority,  Abu  Beker  refused  to 
take  the  title  of  king  or  prince ;  several  of  the  Moslems  hailed 
him  as  God's  vicar  on  earth,  but  he  rejected  the  appellation ; 
he  was  not  the  vicar  of  God,  he  said,  but  of  his  prophet,  whose 
plans  and  wishes  it  was  his  duty  to  carry  out  and  fulfil.  "  In 
so  doing,"  added  he,  "I  will  endeavor  to  avoid  all  prejudice 
and  partiality.  Obey  me  only  so  far  as  I  obey  God  and  the 
prophet.  If  I  go  beyond  tnese  bounds,  I  have  no  authority 
over  you.  If  I  err,  set  me  right ;  I  shall  be  open  to  convic- 
tion." 

He  contented  himself,  therefore,  with  the  modest  title  of 
Caliph,  that  is  to  say,  successor,  by  which  the  Arab  sovereigns 
have  ever  since  been  designated.  They  have  not  all,  however, 
imitated  the  modesty  of  Abu  Beker,  in  calling  themselves  suc- 
cessors of  the  prophet ;  but  many,  in  after  times,  arrogated  to 
themselves  the  title  of  Caliphs  and  Vicars  of  God,  and  his 
Shadow  upon  Earth.  The  supreme  authority,  as  when  exer- 
cised by  Mahomet,  united  the  civil  and  religious  functions: 
the  Caliph  was  sovereign  and  pontiff. 

It  may  be  well  to  observe,  that  the  original  name  of  the 
newly  elected  Caliph  was  Abdaliah  Athek  Ibn  Abu  Kahafa. 
He  was  also,  as  we  have  shown,  termed  Al  Seddek,  or  The 
Testifier  to  the  Truth ;  from  having  maintained  the  verity  of 
Mahomet's  nocturnal  journey;  but  he  is  always;  named  in 
Moslem  histories,  Abu  Beker;  that  is  to  say,  The  Father  of 
the  Virgin;  his  daughter  Ayesha  Jaeing  the  only  one  of  the 
prophet's  wives  that  came  a  virgin  to  his  arms,  the  others 
having  previously  been  in  wedlock. 

At  the  time  of  his  election  Abu  Beker  was  about  sixty -two 
years  of  age ;  tall,  and  well  formed,  though  spare ;  with  a  florid 
complexion  and  thin  beard,  which  would  have  been  gray,  but 
that  he  tinged  it  after  the  oriental  usage.     He  was  a  man  of 


MAHOMET  AND  I1IS  SUCCESSORS.  ^0 

great  judgment  and  discretion,  whose  wariness  and  manage- 
ment at  times  almost  amounted  to  craft;  yet  bis  purposes 
appear  to  have  been  honest  and  unselfish ;  directed  to  the  good 
of  the  cause,  not  to  his  own  benefit.  In  the  administration  of 
his  office  he  betrayed  nothing  of  sordid  worldliness.  Indiffer- 
ent to  riches,  and  to  all  pomps,  luxuries,  and  sensual  indig- 
encies, he  accepted  no  pay  for  his  services  but  a  mere  pittance, 
sufficient  to  maintain  an  Arab  establishment  of  the  simplest 
kind,  in  which  all  his  retinue  consisted  of  a  camel  and  a  black 
slave.  The  surplus  funds  accruing  to  his  treasury  he  dispensed 
every  Friday;  part  to  the  meritorious,  the  rest  to  the  poor; 
and  was  ever  ready,  from  his  own  private  means,  to  help  the 
distressed.  On  entering  office  he  caused  his  daughter  Ayesha 
to  take  a  strict  account  of  his  private  patrimony,  to  stand  as 
a  record  against  him  should  he  enrich  himself  while  in  office. 

Notwithstanding  all  his  merits,  however,  his  advent  to  power 
was  attended  by  public  commotions.  Many  of  the  Arabian 
tribes  had  been  converted  by  the  sword,  and  it  needed  the  com- 
bined terrors  of  a  conqueror  and  a  prophet  to  maintain  them 
in  allegiance  to  the  faith.  On  the  death  of  Mahomet,  there- 
fore, they  spurned  at  the  authority  of  his  successor,  and  re- 
fused to  pay  the  Zacat,  or  religious  contributions  of  tribute, 
tithes,  and  alms.  The  signal  of  revolt  flew  from  tribe  to  tribe, 
until  the  Islam  empire  suddenly  shrank  to  the  cities  of  Mecca, 
Medina,  and  Tayef . 

A  strong  body  of  the  rebels  even  took  the  field  and  advanced 
upon  Medina.  They  were  led  on  by  a  powerful  and  popular 
Sheikh  named  Malec  Ibn  Nowirah.  He  was  a  man  of  high 
birth  and  great  valor,  an  excellent  horseman,  and  a  distin- 
guished poet ;  all  great  claims  on  Arab  admiration.  To  these 
may  be  added  the  enviable  fortune  of  having  for  wife  the  most 
beautiful  woman  in  all  Arabia. 

Hearing  of  the  approach  of  this  warrior  poet  and  his  army, 
Abu  Beker  hastened  to  fortify  the  city,  sending  the  women  and 
children,  the  aged  and  infirm,  to  the  rocks  and  caverns  of  the 
neighboring  mountains. 

But  though  Mahomet  was  dead,  the  sword  of  Islam  was  not 
buried  with  him ;  and  Khaled  Ibn  Waled  now  stood  forward 
to  sustain  the  fame  acquired  by  former  acts  of  prowess.  He 
was  sent  out  against  the  rebels  at  the  head  of  a  hasty  levy  of 
four  thousand  five  hundred  men  and  eleven  banners.  The 
wary  Abu  Beker,  with  whom  discretion  kept  an  equal  pace 
with  valor,  had  a  high  opinion  of  the  character  and  talents  of 


230  MAHOMET  AND  BIS  SUCCESSORS. 

the  rebel  chief,  and  hoped,  notwithstanding  bis  defection,  to 
conquer  him  by  kindness.  Khaled  was  instructed,  therefore, 
should  Malec  fall  into  his  power,  to  treat  him  with  great  re- 
spect; to  be  lenient  to  the  vanquished,  and  to  endeavor,  by 
gentle  means,  to  win  all  back  to  the  standard  of  Islam. 

Khaled,  however,  was  a  downright  soldier,  who  had  no  liking 
for  gentle  means.  Having  overcome  the  rebels  in  a  pitched 
battle,  he  overran  their  country,  giving  his  soldiery  permission 
to  seize  upon  the  flocks  and  herds  of  the  vanquished,  and  make 
slaves  of  their  chddren. 

Among  the  prisoners  brought  into  his  presence  were  Malec 
and  his  beaiitiful  wife.  The  beauty  of  the  latter  dazzled  the 
eyes  even  of  the  rough  soldier,  but  probably  hardened  liis 
heart  against  her  husband. 

"Why,"  demanded  he  of  Malec,  "do  you  refuse  to  pay  the 
Zacat  5" 

"Because  I  can  pray  to  God  without  paying  these  exactions," 
was  the  reply. 

"  Prayer,  without  alms,  is  of  no  avail,"  said  Khaled. 

"Does  your  master  say  so ?"  demanded  Malec  haughtily. 

"My  master!"  echoed  Khaled,  "and  is  he  not  thy  master 
likewise  ?    By  Allah,  I  have  a  mind  to  strike  off  thy  head !" 

"  Are  these  also  the  orders  of  your  master  ?"  rejoined  Malec 
with  a  sneer. 

"Again !"  cried  Khaled,  in  a  fury ;  "smite  off  the  head  of  this 
rebel." 

His  officers  interfered,  for  all  respected  the  prisoner ;  but  the 
rage  of  Khaled  was  not  to  be  appeased. 

"The  beauty  of  this  woman  kills  me,"  said  Malec,  signifi- 
cantly, pointing  to  his  wife. 

"Nay!"  cried  Khaled,  "it  is  Allah  who  kills  thee  because  of 
thine  apostasy." 

"I  am  no  apostate,"  said  Malec;  "I  profess  the  true  faith—" 

It  was  too  late ;  the  signal  of  death  had  already  been  given. 
Scarce  had  the  declaration  of  faith  passed  the  lips  of  the  un- 
fortunate Malec,  when  his  head  fell  beneath  the  scimetar  of 
Derar  Ibn  al  Azwar,  a  rough  soldierafter  Khaled's  own  heart. 

This  summary  execution,  to  which  the  beauty  of  a  woman 
was  alleged  as  the  main  excitement,  gave  deep  concern  to  Abu 
Beker,  who  remarked,  that  the  prophet  had  pardoned  even 
Wacksa,  the  Ethiop,  the  slayer  of  his  uncle  Hamza,  when  the 
culprit  made  profession  of  the  faith.  As  to  Omar,  he  declared 
that  Khaled,  according  to  the  laws  of  the  Koran,  ought  to  be 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  231 

stoned  to  death  for  adultery,  or  executed  for  the  murder  of  a 
Moslem.  The  politic  Abu  Beker,  however,  observed  that 
Khaled  had  sinned  through  error  rather  than  intention.  "  Shall 
I,"  added  he,  "sheathe  the  sword  of  God?  The  sword  which 
he  himself  has  drawn  against  the  unbelieving  ?" 

So  far  from  sheathing  the  sword,  we  find  it  shortly  afterward 
employed  in  an  important  service.  This  was  against  the  false 
prophet  Moseilma,  who,  encouraged  by  the  impunity  with 
which,  during  the  illness  of  Mahomet,  he  had  been  suffered  to 
propagate  his  doctrines,  had  increased  greatly  the  number  of 
his  proselytes  and  adherents,  and  held  a  kind  of  regal  and 
sacerdotal  sway  over  the  important  city  and  fertile  province  of 
Yamama,  between  the  Eed  Sea  and  the  Gulf  of  Persia. 

Tbere  is  quite  a  flavor  of  romance  in  the  story  of  this  impos- 
tor. Among;  those  dazzled  by  his  celebrity  and  charmed  by  his 
rhapsodical  effusions,  was  Sedjab,  wife  of  Abu  Cahdla,  a  poet- 
ess of  the  tribe  of  Tamim,  distinguished  among  the  Arabs  for 
her  personal  and  mental  charms.  She  came  to  see  Moseilma 
in  like  manner  as  the  Queen  of  Sheba  came  to  witness  the  wis- 
dom and  grandeur  of  King  Solomon.  They  were  inspired  with 
a  mutual  passion  at  the  first  interview,  and  passed  much  of 
their  time  together  in  tender,  if  not  religious  intercourse.  Sed- 
jah  became  a  convert  to  the  faith  of  her  lover,  and  caught 
from  him  the  imaginary  gift  of  prophecy.  He  appears  to  have 
caught,  in  exchange,  the  gift  of  poetry,  for  cei'tain  amatory 
effusions,  addressed  by  him  to  his  beautiful  visitant,  are  still 
preserved  by  an  Arabian  historian,  and  breathe  all  the  warmth 
of  the  Song  of  Solomon. 

This  dream  of  poetry  and  prophecy  was  interrupted  by  the 
approach  of  Khaled  at  the  head  of  a  numerous  army.  Mose- 
ilma sallied  forth  to  meet  him  with  a  still  greater  force.  A 
battle  took  place  at  Akreba,  not  far  from  the  capital  city  of 
Yamama.  At  the  onset  the  rebels  had  a  transient  success,  and 
1  tfeive  hundred  Moslems  bit  the  dust.  Khaled,  however,  rallied 
his  forces ;  the  enemy  were  overthrown,  and  ten  thousand  cut 
to  pieces.  Moseilma  fought  with  desperation,  but  fell  covered 
with  wounds.  It  is  said  his  death-blow  was  given  by  Wacksa, 
the  Ethiopian,  the  same  who  had  killed  Hamza,  uncle  of  Ma- 
homet, in  the  battle  of  Ohod,  and  that  he  used  the  self-same 
spear.  Wacksa,  since  his  pardon  by  Mahomet,  had  become  a 
zealous  Moslem. 

The  surviving  disciples  of  Moseilma  became  promptly  con- 
verted to  Islamism  under  the  pious  but  heavy  hand  of  Khaled, 


232  MAHOMET  AND  JITS  SUCCESSORS. 

whose  late  offence  in  the  savage  execution  of  Malec  was  com- 
pletely atoned  for  by  his  victory  over  the  false  prophet.  He 
added  other  services  of  the  same  military  kind  in  this  critical 
juncture  of  public  affairs ;  reinforcing  and  co-operating  with 
certain  commanders  who  had  been  sent  in  different  directions 
to  suppress  rebellions ;  and  it  was  chiefly  through  his  prompt 
and  energetic  activity  that,  before  the  expiration  of  the  first 
year  of  the  Caliphat,  order  was  restored,  and  the  empire  of 
Islam  re-established  in  Arabia. 

It  was  shortly  after  the  victory  of  Khaled  over  Mose'ilma 
that  Abu  Beker  undertook  to  gather  together,  from  written 
and  oral  sources,  the  precepts  and  revelations  of  the  Koran, 
which  hitherto  had  existed  partly  in  scattered  documents,  and 
partly  in  the  memories  of  the  disciples  and  companions  01  the 
prophet.  He  was  greatly  urged  to  this  undertaking  by  Omar, 
that  ardent  zealot  for  the  faith.  The  latter  had  observed  with 
alarm  the  number  of  veteran  companions  of  the  prophet  who 
had  fallen  in  the  battle  of  Akreba.  "  In  a  little  while,"  said  he, 
"all  the  living  testifiers  to  the  faith,  who  bear  the  revelations 
of  it  in  their  memories,  will  have  passed  away,  and  with  them 
so  many  records  of  the  doctrines  of  Islam."  He  urged  Abu 
Beker,  therefore,  to  collect  from  the  surviving  disciples  all  that 
they  remembered ;  and  to  gather  together  from  all  quarters 
whatever  parts  of  the  Koran  existed  in  writing.  The  manner 
in  which  Abu  Beker  proceeded  to  execute  this  pious  task  has 
been  noticed  in  the  preceding  volume ;  it  was  not,  however, 
completed  until  under  a  succeeding  Caliph. 


CHAPTER  III. 


CAMPAIGN  AGAINST  SYRIA— ARMY  SENT  UNDER  YEZED  IBN  ABU 
SOPIAN  —  SUCCESSES  —  ANOTHER  ARMY  UNDER  AMRU  IBN  AL 
AASS — BRILLIANT  ACHIEVEMENTS  OF  KHALED  IN  IRAK. 

The  rebel  tribes  of  Arabia  being  once  more  brought  into 
allegiance,  and  tranquillity  established  at  home,  Abu  Beker 
turned  his  thoughts  to  execute  the  injunction  of  the  prophet, 
to  propagate  the  faith  throughout  the  world,  until  all  nations 
should  be  converted  to  Islamism,  by  persuasion  or  the  sword. 
The  moment  was  auspicious  for  such  a  gigantic  task.    The 


MAHOMET  AND   11  IS  SUCCESSORS.  233 

long  and  desolating  wars  between  the  Persian  and  Byzantine 
emperors,  though  now  at  an  end,  had  exhausted  those  once 
mighty  powers,  and  left  their  frontiers  open  to  aggression.  In 
the  second  year  of  his  reign,  therefore,  Abu  Beker  prepared  to 
carry  out  the  great  enterprise  contemplated  by  Mahomet  in  his 
latter  days— the  conquest  of  Syria. 

Under  this  general  name,  it  should  be  observed,  were  com- 
prehended the  countries  lying  between  the  Euphrates  and  the 
Mediterranean,  including  Phoenicia  and  Palestine.*  These 
countries,  once  forming  a  system  of  petty  states  and  king- 
doms, each  with  its  own  government  and  monarch,  were  now 
.merged  into  the  great  Byzantine  Empire,  and  acknowledged 
the  sway  of  the  emperor  Heraclius  at  Constantinople. 

Syria  had  long  been  a  land  of  promise  to  the  Arabs.  They 
had  known  it  for  ages  by  the  intercourse  of  the  caravans,  and 
had  drawn  from  it  their  chief  supplies  of  corn.  It  was  a  land 
of  abundance.  Part  of  it  Avas  devoted  to  agriculture  and  hus- 
bandry, covered  with  fields  of  grain,  with  vineyards  and  trees 
producing  the  finest  fruits ;  with  pastures  well  stocked  with 
flocks  and  herds.  On  the  Arabian  borders  it  had  cities,  the 
rich  marts  of  internal  trade;  while  its  seaports,  though  de- 
clined from  the  ancient  splendor  and  pre-eminence  of  Tyre  and 
Sidon,  still  were  the  staples  of  an  opulent  and  widely  extended 
commerce. 

In  the  twelfth  year  of  the  Hegira,  the  following  summons 
was  sent  by  Abu  Beker  to  the  chiefs  of  Arabia  Petrea  and 
Arabia  Felix. 

"In  the  name  of  the  Most  Merciful  God!  Abdallah  Athek 
Ibn  Abu  Kahafa  to  all  true  believers,  health,  happiness,  and 
the  blessing  of  God.  Praise  be  to  God,  and  to  Mahomet  his 
prophet !  This  is  to  inform  you  that  I  intend  to  send  an  army 
of  the  faithful  into  Syria,  to  deliver  that  country  from  the  in- 
fidels, and  I  remind  you  that  to  fight  for  the  true  faith  is  to 
obey  God!" 

There  needed  no  further  inducement  to  bring  to  his  standard 
every  Arab  that  owned  a  horse  or  a  camel,  or  could  wield  a 
lance.  Every  day  brought  some  Sheikh  to  Medina  at  the  head 
of  the  fighting  men  of  his  tribe,  and  before  long  the  fields 
round  the  city  were  studded  with  encampments.     The  com- 


*  Syria,  in  its  widest  oriental  acceptation,  included  likewise  Mesopotamia,  Chal- 
dea  and  even  Assyria,  the  whole  forming  what  in  Scriptural  geography  was  denom- 
inated Aram. 


234  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

mand  of  the  army  was  given  to  Yezed  Ibn  Abu  Sofian.  The 
troops  soon  became  impatient  to  strike  their  sunburnt  tents 
and  march.  "Why  do  we  loiter?"  cried  they;  "all  our  fight- 
ing men  are  here ;  there  are  none  more  to  come.  The  plains  of 
Medina  are  parched  and  bare,  there  is  no  food  for  man  or 
steed.  Give  us  the  word,  and  let  us  march  for  the  fruitful 
land  of  Syria." 

Abu  Beker  assented  to  their  wishes.  From  the  brow  of  a 
hill  he  reviewed  the  army  on  the  point  of  departure.  The 
heart  of  the  Caliph  swelled  with  pious  exultation  as  he  looked 
down  upon  the  stirring  multitude,  the  glittering  array  of  arms, 
the  squadrons  of  horsemen,  the  lengthening  line  of  camels,  and 
called  to  mind  the  scanty  handful  that  used  to  gather  round 
the  standard  of  the  prophet.  Scarce  ten  years  had  elapsed 
since  the  latter  had  been  driven  a  fugitive  from  Mecca,  and 
now  a  mighty  host  assembled  at  the  summons  of  his  successor, 
and  distant  empires  were  threatened  by  the  sword  of  Islam. 
Filled  with  these  thoughts,  he  lifted  up  his  voice  and  prayed 
to  God  to  make  these  troops  valiant  and  victorious.  Then 
giving  the  word  to  march,  the  tents  were  struck,  the  camels 
laden,  and  in  a  little  while  the  army  poured  in  a  long  con- 
tinuous train  over  hill  and  valley. 

Abu  Beker  accompanied  them  on  foot  on  the  first  day's 
march.  The  leaders  would  have  dismounted  and  yielded  him 
their  steeds.  "Nay,"  said  he,  "ride  on.  You  are  in  the  ser- 
vice of  Allah.  As  for  me,  I  shall  be  rewarded  for  every  step  I 
take  in  his  cause." 

His  parting  charge  to  YezedT  the  commander  of  the  army, 
was  a  singular  mixture  of  severity  and  mercy. 

"Treat  your  soldiers  with  kindness  and  consideration;  be 
just  in  all  your  dealings  with  them,  and  consult  their  feelings 
and  opinions.  Fight  valiantly,  and  never  turn  your  back 
upon  a  foe.  When  victorious,  hami  not  the  aged,  and  protect 
women  and  children.  Destroy  not  the  palm-tree  nor  fruit- 
trees  of  any  kind;  waste  not  the  cornfield  with  fire;  nor  kill 
any  cattle  excepting  for  food.  Stand  faithfully  to  every  cove- 
nant and  promise;  respect  all  religious  persons  who  live  in 
hermitages,  or  convents,  and  spare  their  edifices.  But  should 
you  meet  with  a  class  of  unbelievers"  of  a  different  kind,  who 
go  about  with  shaven  crowns,  and  belong  to  the  synagogue  of 
Satan,  be  sure  you  cleave  their  skulls  unless  they  embrace  the 
true  faith,  or  render  tribute." 

Having  received  this  summary  charge,  Yezed  continued  his 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  235 

march  toward  Syria,  and  the  pious  Caliph  returned  to  Medina. 
The  prayers  which  the  latter  had  put  up  for  the  success  of 
the  army  appeared  to  be  successful.  Before  long  a  great 
cavalgada  of  horses,  mules,  and  camels  laden  with  booty 
poured  into  the  gates  of  Medina.  Yezed  had  encountered,  on 
the  confines  of  Syria,  a  body  of  troops  detached  by  the  em- 
peror Heraclius  to  observe  him,  and  had  defeated  them,  kill- 
ing the  general  and  twelve  hundred  men.  He  had  been  equally 
successful  in  various  subsequent  skirmishes.  All  the  booty 
gained  in  these  actions  had  been  sent  to  the  Caliph,  as  an 
offering  by  the  army  of  the  first  fruits  of  the  harvest  of  Syria. 

Abu  Beker  sent  tidings  of  this  success  to  Mecca  and  the  sur- 
rounding country,  calling  upon  all  true  believers  fco  press  for- 
ward in  the  career  of  victory,  thus  prosperously  commenced. 
Another  army  was  soon  set  on  foot,  the  command  of  which 
was  given  to  Seid  Ibn  Khaled.  This  appointment,  however, 
not  being  satisfactory  to  Omar,  whose  opinions  and  wishes 
had  vast  weight  at  Medina,  Ayesha  prevailed  on  her  father  to 
invite  Seid  to  resign,  and  to  appoint  in  his  place  Amru  Ibn  al 
Aass ;  the  same  who  in  the  early  days  of  the  faith  ridiculed 
Mahomet  and  his  doctrines  in  satirical  verses,  but  avIio,  since 
his  conversion  to  Islamism,  had  risen  to  eminence  in  its  ser- 
vice, and  was  one  of  its  most  valiant  and  efficient  champions. 

Such  was  the  zeal  of  the  Moslems  in  the  prosecution  of  this 
holy  war,  that  Seid  Ibn  Khaled  cheerfully  resigned  his  com- 
mand and  enlisted  under  the  standard  which  he  had  lately 
reared. 

At  the  departure  of  the  army,  Abu  Beker,  who  was  excellent 
at  counsel,  and  fond  of  bestowing  it,  gave  Amru  a  code  of  con- 
duct for  his  government,  admonishing  him  to  live  righteously, 
as  a  dying  man  in  the  presence  of  God,  and  accountable  for  all 
things  in  a  future  state.  That  he  should  not  trouble  himself 
about  the  private  concerns  of  others,  and  should  forbid  his  men 
all  religious  disputes  about  events  and  doctrines  of  the  "  times 
of  ignorance;"  that  is  to  say,  the  times  antecedent  to  Mahomet; 
but  should  enforce  the  diligent  reading  of  the  Koran,  which 
contained  all  that  was  necessary  for  them  to  know. 

As  there  would  now  be  large  bodies  of  troops  in  Syria,  and 
various  able  commanders,  Abu  Beker  in  maturing  the  plan  of 
his  campaign  assigned  them  different  points  of  action.  Amru 
was  to  draw  towards  Palestine;  Abu  Obeidah  to  undertake 
Emessa;  Seid  Ibn  Abu  Sofian,  Damascus;  and  Serhil  Ibn 
Hasan,  the  country  about  the  Jordan.     They  were  all  to  act  as 


2']Q  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

much  as  possible  in  concert,  and  to  aid  each  other  in  case  of 
need.  When  together  they  were  all  to  be  under  the  orders  of 
Abu  Obeidah,  to  whom  was  given  the  general  command  in 
Syria.  This  veteran  disciple  of  the  prophet  stood  high,  as  we 
have  s'nown,  in  the  esteem  and  confidence  of  Abu  Beker,  having 
been  one  of  the  two  whom  he  had  named  as  worthy  of  the 
Caliphat.  He  was  now  about  fifty  years  of  age ;  zealously  de- 
voted to  the  cause,  yet  one  with  whom  the  sword  of  faith  was 
sheathed  in  meekness  and  humanity;  perhaps  the  cautious 
Abu  Beker  thought  his  moderation  would  be  a  salutary  check 
to  the  headlong  valor  of  the  fanatical  soldiers  of  Islam. 

While  this  grand  campaign  was  put  in  operation  against  the 
Roman  possessions  in  Syria,  a  minor  force  was  sent  to  invade 
Irak.  This  province,  which  included  the  ancient  Chaldea  and 
the  Babylonia  of  Ptolemy,  was  bounded  on  the  east  by  Susiana 
or  Khurzestan  and  the  mountains  of  Assyria  and  Medea,  on 
the  north  by  part  of  Mesopotamia,  on  the  west  and  south  by 
the  Deserts  of  Sham  or  Syria  and  by  a  part  of  Arabia  Deserta. 
It  was  a  region  tributary  to  the  Persian  monarch,  and  so  far  a 
part  of  his  dominions.  The  campaign  in  this  quarter  was  con- 
fided to  Khaled,  of  whose  prowess  Abu  Beker  had  an  exalted 
opinion,  and  who  was  at  this  time  at  the  head  of  a  moderate 
force  in  one  of  the  rebellious  provinces  which  he  had  brought 
into  subjection.  The  Caliph's  letter  to  him  was  to  the  follow- 
ing effect.  "  Turn  thee  toward  Arabian  Irak!  The  conquest 
of  Hira  and  Cufa  is  intrusted  to  thee.  After  the  subjection  of 
those  lands,  turn  thee  against  Aila  and  subdue  it  with  God's 
help!" 

Hira  was  a  kingdom  to  the  west  of  Babylonia,  on  the  verge 
of  the  Syrian  Desert ;  it  had  been  founded  by  a  race  of  Arabs, 
descendants  of  Kahtan,  and  had  subsisted  upward  of  six  hun- 
dred years ;  the  greater  part  of  the  time  it  had  been  under  a 
line  of  princes  of  the  house  of  Mondar;  who  acknowledged 
allegiance  to  the  kings  of  Persia  and  acted  as  their  lieutenants 
over  the  Arabs  of  Irak. 

During  the  early  part  of  the  third  century  many  Jacobite 
Christians  had  been  driven  by  the  persecutions  and  disorders 
of  the  Eastern  Church  to  take  refuge_among  the  Arabs  of  Hira. 
Their  numbers  had  been  augmented  in  subsequent  times  by 
fugitives  from  various  quarters,  until,  shortly  before  the  birth 
of  Mahomet,  the  king  of  Hira  and  all  his  subjects  had  embraced 
Christianity. 
Much  was  said  of  the  splendor  of  the  capital,  which  bore  the 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  237 

same  name  with  the  kingdom.  Here  were  two  palaces  of  ex- 
traordinary magnificence,  the  beauty  of  one  of  which,  if  Ara- 
bian legends  speak  true,  was  fatal  to  the  architect;  for  the 
king,  fearing  that  he  might  build  one  still  more  beautiful  for 
some  other  monarch,  had  him  thrown  headlong  from  the 
tower. 

Khaled  acted  with  his  usual  energy  and  success  in  the  in- 
vasion of  this  kingdom.  With  ten  thousand  men  he  besieged 
the  city  of  Hira ;  stormed  its  palaces ;  slew  the  king  in  battle ; 
subdued  the  kingdom;  imposed  on  it  an  annual  tribute  of 
seventy  thousand  pieces  of  gold,  the  first  tribute  ever  levied  by 
Moslems  on  a  foreign  land,  and  sent  the  same  with  the  son  of 
the  deceased  king  to  Medina. 

He  next  carried  his  triumphant  arms  against  Aila,  defeated 
Hormuz,  the  Persian  governor,  and  sent  his  crown,  with  a  fifth 
part  of  the  booty,  to  the  Caliph.  The  crown  was  of  great 
value,  being  one  of  the  first  class  of  those  worn  by  the  seven 
vicegerents  of  the  Persian  "King  of  Kings."  Among  the 
trophies  of  victory  sent  to  Medina  was  an  elephant.  Three 
other  Persian  generals  and  governors  made  several  attempts, 
with  powerful  armies,  to  check  the  victorious  career  of  Khaled, 
but  were  alike  defeated.  City  after  city  fell  into  his  hands ; 
nothing  seemed  capable  of  withstanding  his  arms.  Planting 
his  victorious  standard  on  the  bank  of  the  Euphrates,  he  wrote 
to  the  Persian  monarch,  calling  upon  him  to  embrace  the  faith 
or  pay  tribute.  "  If  you  refuse  both,"  added  he,  "  I  will  come 
upon  you  with  a  host  who  love  death  as  much  as  you  do  life." 

The  repeated  convoys  of  booty  sent  by  Khaled  to  Medina 
after  his  several  victories,  the  sight  of  captured  crowns  and 
captured  princes,  and  of  the  first  tribute  imposed  on  foreign 
lands,  had  excited  the  public  exultation  to  an  uncommon  degree. 
Abu  Beker  especially  took  pride  in  his  achievements;  con- 
sidering them  proofs  of  his  oavii  sagacity  and  foresight,  which 
he  had  shown  in  refusing  to  punish  him  with  death  when 
strongly  urged  to  do  so  by  Omar.  As  victory  after  victory  was 
announced,  and  train  after  train  laden  with  spofis  crowded  the 
gates  of  Medina,  he  joyed  to  see  his  anticipations  so  far  out- 
stripped by  the  deeds  of  this  headlong  warrior.  "  By  Allah," 
exclaimed  he,  in  an  ecstasy,  ' '  womankind  is  too  weak  to  give 
birth  to  another  Khaled." 


238  MAHOMET  AXD  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

INCOMPETENCY  OF  ABU  OBEIDAH  TO  THE  GENERAL  COMMAND  IN 
SYRIA — KHALED  SENT  TO  SUFERSEDE  HIM— PERIL  OP  THE  MOS- 
LEM ARMY  BEFORE  BOSRA— TIMELY  ARRIVAL  OF  KHALED— HIS 
EXPLOITS  DURING  THE  SIEGE— CAPTURE   OF  BOSRA. 

The  exultation  of  the  Caliph  over  the  triumphs  in  Irak  was 
checked  by  tidings  of  a  different  tone  from  the  army  in  Syria. 
Abu  Obeidah,  who  had  the  general  command,  wanted  the 
boldness  and  enterprise  requisite  to  an  invading  general.  A 
partial  defeat  of  some  of  his  troops  discouraged  him,  and  he 
heard  with  disquiet  of  vast  hosts  which  the  emperor  Heraclius 
was  assembling  to  overwhelm  him.  His  letters  to  the  Caliph 
partook  of  the  anxiety  and  perplexity  of  his  mind.  Abu  Beker, 
whose  generally  sober  mind  was  dazzled  at  the  time  by  the 
daring  exploits  of  Khalecl,  was  annoyed  at  finding  that,  while 
the  latter  was  dashing  forward  in  a  brilliant  career  of  conquest 
in  Irak,  Abu  Obeidah  was  merely  standing  on  the  defensive  in 
Syria.  In  the  vexation  of  the  moment  he  regretted  that  he  had 
intrusted  the  invasion  of  the  latter  country  to  one  who  appeared 
to  him  a  nerveless  man;  and  he  forthwith  sent  missives  to 
Khaled  ordering  him  to  leave  the  prosecution  of  the  war  in 
Irak  to  his  subordinate  generals,  and  repair,  in  all  haste,  to 
aid  the  armies  in  Syria,  and  take  the  general  command  there. 
Khaled  obeyed  the  orders  with  his  usual  promptness.  Leaving 
his  army  under  the  charge  of  Mosenna  Ibn  Haris,  he  put  him- 
self at  the  head  of  fifteen  hundred  horse',  and  spurred  over  the 
S\-rian  borders  to  join  the  Moslem  host,  which  he  learned, 
while  on  the  way,  was  drawing  toward  the  Christian  city  of 
Bosra. 

This  city,  the  reader  will  recollect,  was  the  great  mart  on 
the  Syrian  frontier,  annually  visited  by  the  caravans,  and 
where  Mahomet,  when  a  youth,  had  Ins  first  interview  with 
Sergius,  the  Nestorian  monk,  from  whom  he  was  said  to  have 
received  instructions  in  the  Christian  faith.  It  was  a  place 
usually  filled  with  merchandise,  and  held  out  a  promise  of 
great  booty ;  but  it  was  strongly  walled,  its  inhabitants  were 
inured  to  arms,  and  it  could  at  any  time  pour  forth  twelve 
thousand  horse.    Its  very  name,  in  the  Syrian  tongue,  signi- 


MAHOMET  AND  JUS  SUCCESSORS.  339 

fied  a  tower  of  safety.  Against  this  place  Abu  Obeidah  had 
sent  Serjabil  Ibn  Hasanah,  a  veteran  secretary  of  Mahomet, 
with  a  troop  of  ten  thousand  horse.  On  his  approach,  Ro- 
tnanus,  the  governor  of  the  city,  notwithstanding  the  strength 
of  the  place  and  of  the  garrison,  would  fain  have  paid  tribute, 
for  he  was  dismayed  by  the  accounts  he  had  received  of  the 
fanatic  zeal  and  irresistible  valor  of  the  Moslems,  but  his  peo- 
ple were  stout  of  heart,  and  insisted  on  fighting. 

The  venerable  Serjabil,  as  he  drew  near  to  the  city,  called 
upon  Allah  to  grant  the  victory  promised  in  his  name  by  his 
apostle ;  and  to  establish  the  truth  of  his  unity  by  confounding 
its  opposers.  His  prayers  apparently  were  of  no  avail.  Squad- 
ron after  squadron  of  horsemen  wheeled  down  from  the  gates 
of  Bosra,  attacked  the  Moslems  on  every  side,  threw  them  into 
confusion,  and  made  great  slaughter.  Overwhelmed  by  num- 
bers, Serjabil  was  about  to  order  a  retreat,  when  a  great  cloud 
of  dust  gave  notice  o£  another  army  at  hand. 

There  was  a  momentary  pause  on  both  sides,  but  the  shout 
of  Allah  Achbar !  Allah  Achbar !  resounded  through  the  Moslem 
host,  as  the  eagle  banner  of  Khaled  was  descried  through  the 
cloud.  That  warrior  came  galloping  to  the  field,  at  the  head 
of  liis  troop  of  horsemen,  all  covered  with  dust.  Charging  the 
foe  with  his  characteristic  impetuosity,  he  drove  them  back  to 
the  city,  and  planted  his  standard  before  the  walls. 

The  battle  over,  Serjabil  would  have  embraced  his  deliverer, 
who  was  likewise  his  ancient  friend,  buc  Khaled  regarded  him 
reproachfully.  "  What  madness  possessed  thee,"  said  he,  "to 
attack  with  thy  handful  of  horsemen  a  fortress  girt  with  stone 
walls  and  thronged  with  soldiers?" 

"I  acted,"  said  Serjabil,  ''not  for  myself,  but  at  the  com- 
mand of  Abu  Obeidah." 

"  Abu  Obeihah,"  replied  Khaled,  bluntly,  "  is  a  very  worthy 
man,  but  he  knows  little  of  warfare." 

In  effect  the  army  of  Syria  soon  found  the  difference  between 
the  commanders.  The  soldiers  of  Khaled,  fatigued  with  a  hai'd 
march,  and  harder  combat,  snatched  a  hasty  repast,  and 
throwing  themselves  upon  the  ground,  were  soon  asleep.  Kha- 
led alone  took  no  rest ;  but,  mounting  a  fresh  horse,  prowled 
all  night  round  the  city  and  the  camp,  fearing  some  new  ir- 
ruption from  the  foe. 

At  daybreak  he  roused  his  army  for  the  morning  prayer. 
Some  of  the  troops  performed  their  ablutions  with  water,  others 
with  sand.     Khaled  put  up  the  matin  prayer;  then  every  man 


24!)  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

grasped  his  weapon  and  sprang  to  horse,  for  the  gates  of  Bosra 
were  already  pouring  forth  their  legions.  The  eyes  of  Khaled 
kindled  as  he  saw  them  prancing  down  into  the  plain  and  glit- 
tering in  the  rising  sun.  "  These  infidels,"  said  he,  "  think  us 
weary  and  wayworn,  but  they  will  be  confounded.  Forward 
to  the  fight,  for  the  blessing  of  Allah  is  with  us !" 

As  the  armies  approached  each  other,  Eomanus  rode  in  ad- 
vance of  his  troops  and  defied  the  Moslem  chief  to  single  com- 
bot.  Khaled  advanced  on  the  instant.  Romanus,  however, 
instead  of  levelling  his  lance,  entered  into  a  parley  in  an  un- 
dertone of  voice.  He  declared  that  he  was  a  Mahometan  at 
heart,  and  had  incurred  great  odium  among  the  people  of  the 
place,  by  endeavoring  to  persuade  them  to  pay  tribute.  He 
now  offered  to  embrace  Islamism,  and  to  return  and  do  his  best 
to  yield  the  city  into  the  hands  of  the  Moslems,  on  condition 
of  secui-ity  for  life,  liberty,  and  property. 

Khaled  readily  consented  to  the  condition,  but  suggested 
that  they  shovdd  exchange  a  few  dry  blows,  to  enable  Eomanus 
to  return  to  the  city  with  a  better  grace,  and  prevent  a  sus- 
picion of  collusion.  Eomanus  agreed  to  the  proposal,  but  with 
no  great  relish,  for  he  was  an  arrant  craven.  He  would  fain 
have  made  a  mere  feint  and  flourish  of  weapons ;  but  Khaled 
had  a  heavy  hand  and  a  kindling  spirit,  and  dealt  such  hearty 
blows  that  he  would  have  severed  the  other  in  twain,  or  cloven 
him  to  the  saddle,  had  he  struck  with  the  edge  instead  of  the 
flat  of  the  sword. 

"Softly,  softly,"  cried  Eomanus.  "Is  this  what  you  call 
sham  fighting;  or  do  you  mean  to  slay  me?" 

"By  no  means, "  replied  Khaled,  "but  Ave  must  lay  on  our 
blows  a  little  roughly,  to  appear  in  earnest." 

Eomanus,  battered  and  bruised,  and  wounded  in  several 
places,  was  glad  to  get  back  to  his  army  with  his  life.  He  now 
extolled  the  prowess  of  Khaled,  and  advised  the  citizens  to  ne- 
gotiate a  surrender ;  but  they  upbraided  him  with  his  coward- 
ice, stripped  him  of  his  command,  and  made  him  a  prisoner 
in  his  own  house ;  substituting  in  his  place  the  general  who  had 
come  to  them  with  reinforcements  from  the  emperor  Herac- 
clius.  _: 

The  new  governor,  as  his  first  essay  in  command,  sallied  in 
advance  of  the  army,  and  defied  Khaled  to  combat.  Abda'lrah- 
man,  son  of  the  Caliph,  a  youth  of  great  promise,  begged  of 
Khaled  the  honor  of  being  his  champion.  His  request  being 
granted,  ho  rode  forth,  well  armed,  to  the   encounter.     The 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  241 

combat  was  of  short  duration.  At  the  onset  the  governor  was 
daunted  by  the  fierce  countenance  of  the  youthful  Moslem,  and 
confounded  by  the  address  with  which  he  managed  his  horse 
and  wielded  his  lance.  At  the  first  wound  he  lost  all  presence 
of  mind,  and  turning  the  reins  endeavored  to  escape  by  dint  of 
hoof.  His  steed  was  swiftest,  and  he  succeeded  in  throwing 
himself  into  the  midst  of  his  forces.  The  impetuous  youth 
spurred  after  him,  cutting  and  slashing,  right  and  left,  and 
hewing  his  way  with  his  scimetar. 

Khaled,  delighted  with  his  valor,  but  alarmed  at  his  peril, 
gave  the  signal  for  a  general  charge.  To  the  fight!  to  the 
fight!  Paradise!  Paradise!  was  the  maddening  cry.  Horse 
was  spurred  against  horse ;  man  grappled  man.  The  desperate 
conflict  was  witnessed  from  the  walls,  and  spread  dismay 
through  the  city.  The  bells  rang  alarums,  the  shrieks  of  women 
and  children  mingled  with  the  prayers  and  chants  of  priests 
and  monks  moving  in  procession  through  the  streets. 

The  Moslems,  too,  called  upon  Allah  for  succor,  mingling 
prayers  and  execrations  as  they  fought.  At  length  the  troops 
of  Bosra  gave  way:  the  squadrons  that  had  sallied  forth  so 
gloriously  in  the  morning  were  driven  back  in  broken  and 
headlong  masses  to  the  city ;  the  gates  were  hastily  swung  to 
and  barred  after  them ;  and,  while  they  panted  with  fatigue 
and  terror  behind  their  bulwarks,  the  standards  and  banners 
of  the  cross  were  planted  on  the  battlements,  and  couriers 
were  sent  off  imploring  reinforcements  from  the  emperor. 

Night  closed  upon  the  scene  of  battle.  The  stifled  groans  of 
wounded  warriors,  mingled  with  the  wailings  of  women,  and 
the  prayers  of  monks  and  friars,  were  heard  in  the  once  joyful 
streets  of  Bosra;  while  sentinels  walked  the  rounds  of  the  Arab 
camp  to  guard  it  against  the  desperation  of  the  foe. 

Abda'lrahman  commanded  one  of  the  patrols.  Walking  his 
round  beneath  the  shadow  of  the  city  walls,  he  beheld  a  man 
come  stealthily  forth,  the  embroidery  of  whose  garments, 
faintly  glittering  in  the  starlight,  betrayed  him  to  be  a  person 
of  consequence.  The  lance  of  Abda'lrahman  was  at  his  breast, 
when  he  proclaimed  himself  to  be  Romanus,  and  demanded  to 
be  led  to  Khaled.  On  entering  the  tent  of  that  leader  he  in- 
veighed against  the  treatment  he  had  experienced  from  the 
people  of  Bosra,  and  invoked  vengeance.  They  had  confined 
him  to  his  house,  but  it  was  built  against  the  wall  of  the  city. 
He  had  caused  his  sons  and  servants,  therefore,  to  break  a  hole 
through  it,  by  which  he  had  issued  forth,  and  by  which  he 


242  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

offered  to  introduce  a  band  of  soldiers,  who  might  throw  open 
the  city  gates  to  the  army. 

His  offer  was  instantly  accepted,  and  Abdalrahman  was  in- 
trusted with  the  dangerous  enterprise.  He  took  with  him  a 
hundred  picked  men,  and,  conducted  by  Romanus,  entered  in 
the  dead  of  night,  by  the  breach  in  the  wail,  into  the  house  of 
the  traitor.  Here  they  were  refreshed  with  food,  and  dis- 
guised to  look  like  the  soldiers  of  the  garrison.  Abdalrah- 
man then  divided  them  into  four  bands  of  twenty-five  men 
each,  three  of  which  he  sent  in  different  directions,  with  orders 
to  keep  quiet  until  he  and  his  followers  should  give  the  signal 
shout  of  Allah  Achbar  !  He  then  requested  Romanus  to  con- 
duct him  to  the  quarters  of  the  governor,  who  had  fled  the 
fight  with  him  that  day.  Under  the  guidance  of  the  traitor  he 
and  his  twenty-five  men  passed  with  noiseless  steps  through 
the  streets.  Most  of  the  unfortuuate  people  of  Bosra  had 
sunk  to  sleep  ;  but  now  and  then  the  groan  of  some  wounded 
warrior,  or  the  lament  of  some  afflicted  woman,  broke  the  still- 
ness of  the  night  and  startled  the  prowlers. 

Arrived  at  the  gate  of  the  citadel,  they  surprised  the  senti- 
nels, who  mistook  them  for  a  friendly  patrol,  and  made  their 
way  to  the  governor's  chamber.  Romanus  entered  first,  and 
summoned  the  governor  to  receive  a  friend. 

"  What  friend  seeks  me  at  this  hour  of  the  night  ?  " 

"  Thy  friend  Abdalrahman,"  cried  Romanus  with  malignant 
triumph  ;  "  who  comes  to  send  thee  to  hell !  " 

The  wretched  poltroon  would  have  fled.  "Nay,"  cried 
Abdalrahman,  "you  escape  me  not  a  second  time!"  and  with 
a  blow  of  his  scimetar  laid  him  dead  at  his  feet.  He  then  gave 
the  signal  shout  of  Allah  Achbar !  It  was  repeated  by  his  fol- 
lowers at  the  poi-tal ;  echoed  by  the  other  parties  in  different 
quarters;  the  city  gates  were  thi-own  open,  the  legions  of 
Khaled  and  Serjabil  rushed  in,  and  the  whole  city  resounded 
with  the  cries  of  Allah  Achbar !  The  inhabitants,  startled  from 
their  sleep,  hastened  forth  to  know  the  meaning  of  the  uproar, 
but  were  cut  down  at  their  thresholds,  and  a  horrible  carnage 
took  place  until  there  was  a  general  cry  for  quarter.  Then,  in 
compliance  with  one  of  the  precepts  of  Mahomet,  Khaled  put  a 
stop  to  the  slaughter,  and  received  the  survivors  under  the 
yoke. 

The  savage  tumid t  being  appeased,  the  unhappy  inhabitants 
of  "Bosra  inquired  as  to  the  mode  in  which  they  had  been  sur- 
prised.    Khaled  hesitated  to  expose  the  baseness  of  Romanus; 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  243 

but  the  traitor  gloried  in  his  shame,  and  in  the  vengeance  he 
had  wreaked  upon  former  friends.  "Twas  I!"  cried  ho,  with 
demoniac  exultation.  ' '  I  renounce  ye  both  in  this  world  and 
the  next.  I  deny  him  who  was  crucified,  and  despise  his 
worshippers.  I  choose  Islam  for  my  faith,  the  Caaba  for  my 
temple,  the  Moslems  for  my  brethren,  Mahomet  for  my 
prophet ;  and  I  bear  witness  that  there  is  but  one  only  God, 
who  has  no  partner  in  his  power  and  glory. " 

Having  made  this  full  recantation  of  his  old  faith  and  pro- 
fession of  his  new,  in  fulfilment  of  his  traitorous  compact, 
the  apostate  departed  from  Bosra,  followed  by  the  execrations 
of  its  inhabitants,  among  whom  he  durst  no  longer  abide :  and 
Khaled,  although  he  despised  him  in  his  heart,  appointed  a 
guard  to  protect  his  property  from  plunder. 


CHAPTER  V. 

KHALED  LAYS  SIEGE  TO  DAMASCUS. 

The  capture  of  Bosra  increased  the  ambition  and  daring  of 
the  Moslems,  and  Khaled  now  aspired  to  the  conquest  of  Da- 
mascus. This  renowned  and  beautiful  city,  one  of  the  largest 
and  most  magnificent  of  the  East,  and  reputed  to  be  the  oldest 
in  the  world,  stood  in  a  plain  of  wonderful  richness  and  fer- 
tility, covered  with  groves  and  gardens,  and  bounded  by  an 
amphitheatre  of  hills,  the  skirts  of  Mount  Lebanon.  A  river 
called  by  the  ancients  Chrysorrhoa,  or  the  stream  of  gold, 
flows  through  this  plain,  feeding  the  canals  and  water-courses 
of  its  gardens,  and  the  fountains  of  the  city. 

The  commerce  of  the  place  bespoke  the  luxuriance  of  the 
soil;  dealing  in  wines,  silks,  wool,  prunes,  raisins,  figs  of  un- 
rivalled flavor,  sweet  scented  waters  and  perfumes.  The  fields 
were  covered  with  odoriferous  flowers,  and  the  rose  of  Damas- 
cus has  become  famous  throughout  the  world.  This  is  one  of 
the  few,  the  very  few,  cities  famous  in  ancient  times,  which 
still  retain  a  trace  of  ancient  delights.  "The  citron,"  says  a 
recent  traveller,  ' '  perfumes  the  air  for  many  miles  round  the 
city;  and  the  fig-trees  are  of  vast  size.  The  pomegranate  and 
orange  grow  in  thickets.     There  is  the  trickling  of  water  on 


244  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

every  hand.  Wherever  you  go  there  is  a  trotting  brook,  or  a 
full  and  silent  stream  beside  the  track ;  and  you  have  frequently 
to  cross  from  one  vivid  green  meadow  to  another  by  fording, 
or  by  little  bridges.  These  streams  are  all  from  the  river 
beloved  by  Naaman  of  old.  He  might  well  ask  whether  the 
Jordan  was  better  than  Pharpar  and  Abana,  the  rivers  of  Da- 
mascus." 

In  this  city  too  were  invented  those  silken  stuffs  called  dam- 
ask from  the  place  of  their  origin,  and  those  swords  and  scime- 
tars  proverbial  for  their  matchless  temper. 

When  Khaled  resolved  to  strike  for  this  great  prize,  he  had 
but  fifteen  hundred  horse,  which  had  followed  him  from  Irak, 
in  addition  to  the  force  which  he  found  with  Serjabil ;  having, 
however,  the  general  command  of  the  troops  in  Syria,  he  wrote 
to  Abu  Obeidah  to  join  him  with  his  army,  amounting  to 
thirty -seven  thousand  men. 

The  Moslems,  accustomed  to  the  aridity  of  the  desert,  gazed 
with  wonder  and  delight  upon  the  rich  plain  of  Damascus.  As 
they  wound  in  lengthening  files  along  the  banks  of  the  shining 
river,  through  verdant  and  flowery  fields,  or  among  groves 
and  vineyards  and  blooming  gardens,  it  seemed  as  if  they  were 
already  realizing  the  paradise  promised  by  the  prophet  to  true 
believers ;  but  when  the  fanes  and  towers  of  Damascus  rose  to 
sight  from  among  tufted  bowers,  they  broke  forth  into  shouts 
of  transport. 

Heraclius  the  emperor  was  at  Antioch,  the  capital  of  his 
Syrian  dominions,  when  he  heard  of  the  advance  of  the  Arabs 
upon  the  city  of  Damascus.  He  supposed  the  troops  of  Kha- 
led, however,  to  be  a  mere  predatory  band,  intent  as  usual  on 
hasty  ravage,  and  easily  repulsed  when  satisfied  with  plunder ; 
and  he  felt  little  alarcn  for  the  safety  of  the  city,  knowing  it 
to  be  very  populous,  strongly  fortified,  and  well  garrisoned. 
He  contented  himself,  therefore,  with  dispatching  a  general 
named  Caloiis  with  five  thousand  men  to  reinforce  it. 

In  passing  through  the  country,  Caloiis  found  the  people 
flying  to  castles  and  other  strongholds  and  putting  them  in  a 
state  of  defence.  As  he  approached  Baalbeo,  the  women  came 
forth  with  dishevelled  hair,  wringing  their  hands  and  uttering 
cries  of  despair.  "  Alas!"  cried  they,  "  the  Arabs  overrun  the 
land,  and  nothing  can  withstand  them.  Aracah  and  Saclmah, 
and  Tadmor  and  Bosra,  have  fallen,  and  who  shall  protect 
Damascus !" 

Caloiis  inquired  the  force  of  the  invaders. 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  245 

They  knew  but  of  the  troops  of  Khaled,  and  answered,  "Fif- 
teen hundred  horse." 

"  Be  of  good  cheer,"  said  Caloiis;  "in  a  few  days  I  will  re- 
turn with  the  head  of  Khaled  on  the  point  of  this  good  spear." 

He  arrived  at  Damuscus  before  the  Moslem  army  came  in 
sight,  and  the  same  self-confidence  marked  his  proceedings. 
Arrogating  to  himself  the  supreme  command,  he  would  have 
deposed  and  expelled  the  former  governor  Azrail,  a  meritori- 
ous old  soldier,  wsll  beloved  by  the  people.  Violent  dissen- 
sions immediately  arose,  and  the  city,  instead  of  being  pre- 
pared for  defence,  was  a  prey  to  internal  strife. 

In  the  height  of  these  tumults  the  army  of  Khaled,  forty 
thousand  strong,  being  augmented  by  that  of  Abu  Obeidah, 
was  descried  marching  across  the  plain.  The  sense  of  danger 
calmed  the  fury  of  contention,  and  the  two  governors  sallied 
forth,  with  a  great  part  of  the  garrison,  to  encounter  the  in- 
vaders. 

Both  armies  drew  up  in  battle  array.  Khaled  was  in  front 
of  the  Moslem  line,  and  with  him  was  his  brother  in  arms, 
Derar  Ibn  al  Azwar.  The  latter  was  mounted  on  a  fine  Ara- 
bian mare,  and  poised  a  ponderous  lance,  looking  a  warrior 
at  all  points.  Khaled  regarded  him  with  friendly  pride,  and 
resolved  to  give  him  an  opportunity  of  distinguishing  himself. 
For  this  purpose  he  detached  him  with  a  small  squadron  of 
horse  to  feel  the  pulse  of  the  enemy.  "  Now  is  the  time,  De- 
rar," cried  he,  "  to  show  thyself  a  man,  and  emulate  the  deeds 
of  thy  father  and  other  illustrious  soldiers  of  the  faith.  For- 
ward in  the  righteous  cause,  and  Allah  will  protect  thee." 

Derar  levelled  his  lance;  and  at  the  head  of  his  handful  of 
followers  charged  into  the  thickest  of  the  foe.  In  the  first  en- 
counter four  horsemen  fell  beneath  his  arm;  then  wheeling 
off,  and  soaring  as  it  were  into  the  field  to  mark  a  different 
quarry,  he  charged  with  his  little  troop  upon  the  foot  soldiers, 
slew  six  with  his  own  hand,  trampled  down  others,  and  pro- 
duced great  confusion.  The  Christians,  however,  recovered 
from  a  temporary  panic,  and  opposed  him  with  overwhelming 
numbers  and  Roman  discipline.  Derar  saw  the  inequality  of 
the  fight,  and  having  glutted  his  martial  fury,  showed  the 
Arab  dexterity  at  retreat,  making  his  way  back  safely  to  the 
Moslem  army,  by  whom  he  was  received  with  acclama- 
tion. 

Abda'lrahman  gave  a  similar  proof  of  fiery  courage ;  but  his 
cavalry  was  received  by  a  battalion  of  infantry  arranged  in 


246  MAHOMET  AND   HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

phalanx  with  extended  spears,  while  stones  and  darts  hurled 
from  a  distance  galled  both  horse  and  rider.  He  also,  after 
making  a  daring  assault  and  sudden  carnage,  retired  upon  the 
spur  and  rejoined  the  army. 

Khaled  now  emulated  the  prowess  of  his  friends,  and  career- 
ing in  front  of  the  enemy,  launched  a  general  defiance  to  single 
combat. 

The  jealousies  of  the  two  Christian  commanders  continued 
in  the  field.  Azrail,  turning  to  Caloiis,  taunted  him  to  accept 
the  challenge  as  a  matter  of  course ;  seeing  he  was  sent  to  pro- 
tect the  country  in  this  hour  of  danger. 

The  vaunting  of  Caloiis  was  at  an  end.  He  had  no  inclina- 
tion for  so  close  a  fight  with  such  an  enemy,  but  pride  would 
not  permit  him  to  refuse.  He  entered  into  the  conflict  with  a 
faint  heart,  and  in  a  short  time  would  have  retreated,  but  Kha- 
led wheeled  between  him  and  his  army.  He  then  fought  with 
desperation,  and  the  contest  was  furious  on  both  sides,  until 
Caloiis  beheld  his  blood  streaming  down  his  armor.  His  heart 
failed  him  at  the  sight;  his  strength  flagged;  he  fought 
merely  on  the  defensive.  Khaled  perceiving  this,  suddenly 
closed  with  him,  shifted  his  lance  to  his  left  hand,  grasped 
Caloiis  with  the  right,  dragged  him  out  of  the  saddle,  and  bore 
him  off  captive  to  the  Moslem  host,  who  rent  the  air  with  tri- 
umphant shouts. 

Mounting  a  fresh  horse,  Khaled  prepared  again  for  battle. 

"Tarry,  my  friend,"  cried  Derar;  "repose  thyself  for  a 
time,  and  I  will  take  thy  place." 

"Oh,  Derar,"  replied  Khaled,  "he  who  labors  to-day  shall 
rest  to-morrow.  There  will  be  repose  sufficient  amid  the  de- 
lights of  paradise !" 

When  about  to  return  to  the  field,  Caloiis  demanded  a  mo- 
ment's audience,  and  making  use  of  the  traitor  Romanus  as 
an  interpreter,  advised  Khaled  to  bend  all  his  efforts  against 
Azrail,  the  former  governor  of  the  city,  whose  death  he  said 
would  be  the  surest  means  of  gaining  the  victory.  Thus  a 
spirit  of  envy  induced  him  to  sacrifice  the  good  of  his  country 
to  the  desire  of  injuring  a  rival. 

Khaled  was  willing  to  take  advice  even  from  an  enemy, 
especially  when  it  fell  in  with  his  own  humor ;  he  advanced, 
therefore,  in  front,  challenging  Azrail  loudly  by  name.  The 
latter  quickly  appeared,  well  armed  and  mounted,  and  with 
undaunted  bearing. 

The  contest  was  long  and  obstinate.     The  combatants  paused 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  247 

for  breath.  Khaled  could  not  but  regard  his  adversary  with 
admiration. 

"Thy  name,"  said  he,  "is  Azrail?"  (This  is  the  Arabic 
name  for  the  angel  of  death.) 

"  Azrail  is  my  name,"  replied  the  other. 

"By  Allah!"  replied  Khaled,  "thy  namesake  is  at  hand, 
waiting  to  carry  thy  soid  to  the  fire  of  Jehennam!" 

They  renewed  the  fight.  Azrail,  who  was  the  most  fleetly 
mounted,  being  sorely  pressed,  made  use  of  an  Arabian  strata- 
gem, and  giving  the  reins  to  his  steed  pretended  to  fly  the 
field.  Having  distanced  his  adversary  and  fatigued  his  horse, 
he  suddenly  wheeled  about  and  returned  to  the  charge.  Kha- 
led, however,  was  not  to  be  outdone  in  stratagem.  Throwing 
himself  lightly  from  his  saddle  just  as  his  antagonist  came 
galloping  upon  him,  he  struck  at  the  legs  of  his  horse,  brought 
him  to  the  ground,  and  took  his  rider  prisoner. 

The  magnanimity  of  Khaled  was  not  equal  to  his  valor ;  or 
rather  his  fanatical  zeal  overcame  all  generous  feelings.  He 
admired  Azrail  as  a  soldier,  but  detested  him  as  an  infidel. 
Placing  him  beside  his  late  rival  Caloiis,  he  called  upon  both 
to  renounce  Christianity  and  embrace  the  faith  of  Islam. 
They  persisted  hi  a  firm  refusal,  upon  which  he  gave  the  sig- 
nal, and  their  heads  were  struck  off  and  thrown  over  the  walls 
into  the  city,  a  fearful  warning  to  the  inhabitants. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


SIEGE   OF   DAMASCUS    CONTINUED —EXPLOITS    OF   DERAR— DEFEAT 
OF  THE   IMPERIAL  ARMY. 

The  siege  of  Damascus  continued  with  increasing  rigor. 
The  inhabitants  were  embarrassed  and  dismayed  by  the  loss  of 
their  two  governors,  and  the  garrison  was  thinned  by  frequent 
skirmishes,  in  which  the  bravest  warriors  were  sure  to  fall. 
At  length  the  soldiers  ceased  to  sally  forth,  and  the  place 
became  strictly  invested.  Khaled,  with  one  half  of  the  army, 
drew  near  to  the  walls  on  the  east  side,  while  Abu  Obeidah, 
with  the  other  half,  was  stationed  on  the  west.  The  inhab- 
itants now  attempted  to  corrupt  Khaled,  offering  him  a 
thousand  ounces  of  gold  and  two  hundred  magnificent  damask 


048  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

robes  to  raise  the  siege.    His  reply  was,  that  they  must  em- 
brace the  Islam  faith,  pay  tribute,  or  fight  unto  the  death. 

"While  the  Arabs  lay  thus  encamped  round  the  city,  as  if 
watching  its  expiring  throes,  they  were  surprised  one  day  by 
the  unusual  sound  of  shouts  of  joy  within  its  walls.  Sending 
out  scouts,  they  soon  learned  the  astounding  intelligence  that 
a  great  army  was  marching  to  the  relief  of  the  place. 

The  besieged,  in  fact,  in  the  height  of  their  extremity,  had 
lowered  a  messenger  from  the  walls  in  the  dead  of  the  night, 
bearing  tidings  to  the  emperor  at  Antioch  of  their  perilous 
condition,  and  imploring  prompt  and  efficient  succor.  Aware 
for  the  first  time  of  the  real  magnitude  of  the  danger,  Herac- 
lius  dispatched  an  army  of  a  hundred  thousand  men  to  their 
relief,  led  on  by  Werdan,  prefect  of  Emessa,  an  experienced 
general. 

Khaled  would  at  once  have  marched  to  meet  the  foe,  alleging 
that  so  great  a  host  could  come  only  in  divisions,  which  might 
be  defeated  in  detail;  the  cautious  and  quiet  Abu  Obeidah, 
however,  counselled  to  continue  the  siege,  and  send  some  able 
officer  with  a  detachment  to  check  and  divert  the  advancing 
army.  His  advice  was  adopted,  and  Derar,  the  cherished 
companion  in  arms  of  Khaled,  was  chosen  for  the  purpose. 
That  fiery  Moslem  was  ready  to  march  at  once  and  attack  the 
enemy  with  any  handful  of  men  that  might  be  assigned  him ; 
but  Khaled  rebuked  his  inconsiderate  zeal.  "We  are  ex- 
pected," said  he,  "  to  fight  for  the  faith,  but  not  to  throw  our- 
selves away."  Allotting  to  his  friend,  therefore,  one  thousand 
chosen  horsemen,  he  recommended  to  him  to  hang  on  the 
flanks  of  the  enemy  and  impede  their  march. 

The  fleetly  mounted  band  of  Derar  soon  came  in  sight  of  the 
van  of  Werdan's  army,  slowly  marching  in  heavy  masses. 
They  were  for  hovering  about  it  and  harassing  it  in  the  Arab 
manner,  but  the  impetuous  valor  of  Derar  was  inflamed,  and 
he  swore  not  to  draw  back  a  step  without  hard  fighting.  He 
was  seconded  by  Eafi  Ibn  Omeirah,  who  reminded  the  troops 
that  a  handful  of  the  faithful  was  sufficient  to  defeat  an  army 
of  infidels.  - 

The  battle  cry  was  given.  Derar,  with  some  of  his  choicest 
troops,  attacked  the  centre  of  the  army,  seeking  to  grapple 
with  the  general,  whom  he  beheld  there,  surrounded  by  his 
guard.  At  the  very  onset  he  struck  down  the  prefect's  right- 
hand  man,  and  then  his  standard-bearer.  Several  of  Derar's 
followers  sprang  from  their  steeds  to  seize  the  standard,  a 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  249 

cross  richly  adorned  with  precious  stones,  while  he  beat  off  the 
enemy  who  endeavored  to  regain  it.  The  captured  cross  was 
borne  off  in  triumph ;  but  at  the  same  moment  Derar  received 
a  wound  in  the  left  arm  from  a  javelin,  launched  by  a  son  of 
Werdan.  Turning  upon  the  youth,  he  thrust  his  lance  into 
his  body,  but,  in  withdrawing  it,  the  iron  head  remained  in 
the  wound.  Thus  left,  unarmed,  he  defended  himself  for  a 
time  with  the  mere  truncheon  of  the  lance,  but  was  over- 
powered and  taken  prisoner.  The  Moslems  fought  furiously 
to  rescue  him,  but  in  vain,  and  he  was  borne  captive  from  the 
field.  They  would  now  have  fled,  but  were  recalled  by  Bafi 
Ibn  Omeirah.  "Whoever  flies,"  cried  he,  "turns  his  back 
upon  God  and  his  prophet.  Paradise  is  for  those  who  fall  in 
battle.  If  your  captain  be  dead,  God  is  living,  and  sees  your 
actions." 

They  rallied  and  stood  at  bay.  The  fortune  of  the  day  was 
against  them;  they  were  attacked  by  tenfold  their  number, 
and  though  they  fought  with  desperation,  they  would  soon 
have  been  cut  to  pieces,  had  not  Khaled,  at  that  critical 
moment,  arrived  at  the  scene  of  action  with  the  greater  part 
of  his  forces ;  a  swift  horseman  having  brought  him  tidings  of 
this  disastrous  affray,  and  the  capture  of  his  friend. 

On  arriving,  he  stopped  not  to  parley,  but  charged  into  the 
thickest  of  the  foe,  where  he  saw  most  banners,  hoping  there 
to  find  his  captive  friend.  Wherever  he  turned  he  hewed  a 
path  before  him,  but  Derar  was  not  to  be  found.  At  length  a 
prisoner  told  him  that  the  captive  had  been  sent  off  to  Emessa 
under  a  strong  escort.  Khaled  instantly  dispatched  Eafi  Ibn 
Omeirah  with  a  hundred  horse  in  pursuit.  They  soon  over- 
took the  escort,  attacked  them  furiously,  slew  several,  and 
put  the  rest  to  flight,  who  left  Derar,  bound  with  cords,  upon 
his  charger. 

By  the  time  that  Bafi  and  Derar  rejoined  the  Moslem  army, 
Khaled  had  defeated  the  whole  forces  of  Werdan,  division 
after  division,  as  they  arrived  successively  at  the  field  of 
action.  In  this  manner  a  hundred  thousand  troops  were 
defeated,  in  detail,  by  less  than  a  third  of  their  number,  in- 
spired by  fanatic  valor,  and  led  on  by  a  skilful  and  intrepid 
chief.  Thousands  of  the  fugitives  were  killed  in  the  pursuit ; 
an  immense  booty  in  treasure,  arms,  baggage,  and  horses  fell 
to  the  victors,  and  Khaled  led  back  his  army,  flushed  with 
conquest,  but  fatigued  with  fighting  and  burdened  with  spoils, 
to  resume  the  siege  of  Damascus. 


250  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

SIEGE    OF    DAMASCUS    CONTINUED— SALLY    OP    THE     GARRISON- 
HEROISM  OF  THE  MOSLEM  WOMEN. 

The  tidings  of  the  defeat  of  Werdan  and  his  powerful  .array 
made  the  emperor  Heraclius  tremble  in  his  palace  at  Antioch 
for  the  safety  of  his  Syrian  kingdom.  Hastily  levying  another 
army  of  seventy  thousand  men,  he  put  them  under  the  com- 
mand of  Werdan,  at  Aiznadan,  with  orders  to  hasten  to  the 
relief  of  Damascus,  and  attack  the  Arab  army ,  which  must  be 
diminished  and  enfeebled  by  the  recent  battle. 

Khaled  took  counsel  of  Abu  Obeidah  how  to  avoid  the  im- 
pending storm.  It  was  determined  to  raise  the  siege  of  Da- 
mascus, and  seek  the  enemy  promptly  at  Aiznadin.  Conscious, 
however,  of  the  inadequacy  of  his  forces,  Khaled  sent  missives 
to  all  the  Moslem  generals  within  his  call. 

' '  In  the  name  of  the  most  merciful  God !  Khaled  Ibn  al 
Walid  to  Amru  Ibn  al  Aass,  health  and  happiness.  The  Mos- 
lem brethren  are  about  to  march  to  Aiznadin  to  do  battle  with 
seventy  thousand  Greeks,  who  are  coming  to  extinguish  the 
light  of  God.  But  Allah  will  preserve  his  light  in  despite  of 
all  the  infidels.  Come  to  Aiznadin  with  thy  troops ;  for,  God, 
willing,  thou  shalt  find  me  there."  These  missives  sent,  he 
broke  up  his  encampment  before  Damascus,  and  marched, 
with  his  whole  force,  towards  Aiznadin.  He  would  have 
placed  Abu  Obeidah  at  the  head  of  the  army ;  but  the  latter 
modestly  remarked,  that  as  Khaled  was  now  commander-in- 
chief,  that  station  appertained  to  him.  Abu  Obeidah,  there- 
fore, brought  up  the  rear,  where  were  the  baggage,  the  booty, 
the  women,  and  the  children. 

When  the  garrison  of  Damascus  saw  their  enemy  on  the 
march,  they  sallied  forth  under  two  brothers  named  Peter  and 
Paul.  The  former  led  ten  thousand  infantry,  the  latter  six 
thousand  horse.  Overtaking  the-  rear  of  the  Moslems,  Paul 
with  his  cavalry  charged  into  the  midst  of  them,  cutting  down 
some,  trampling  others  under  foot,  and  spreading  wide  con- 
fusion. Peter  in  the  mean  time,  with  his  infantry,  made  a 
sweep  of  the  camp  equipage,  the  baggage,  and  the  accumulated 
booty,  and  capturing  most  of  the  women,  made  off  with  bis 
spoils  towards  Damascus. 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  2f>l 

Tidings  of  this  onset  having  reached  Khaled  in  the  van,  he 
sent  Derar,  Abda'irahman,  and  Ran  Ihn  Omeirah,  scouring 
back,  each  at  the  head  of  two  hundred  horse,  while  he  followed 
with  the  main  force. 

Derar  and  his  associates  soon  turned  the  tide  of  battle,  rout- 
ing Paul  and  his  cavalry  with  such  slaughter,  that  of  the  six 
thousand  but  a  small  part  escaped  to  Damascus.  Paul  threw 
himself  from  his  horse,  and  attempted  to  escape  on  foot,  but 
was  taken  prisoner.  The  exultation  of  the  victors,  however, 
was  damped  by  the  intelligence  that  their  women  had  been 
carried  away  captive,  and  great  was  the  grief  of  Derar,  on 
learning  that  his  sister  Caulah,  a  woman  of  great  beauty,  was 
among  the  number. 

In  the  mean  time  Peter  and  his  troops,  with  their  spoils  and 
captives,  had  proceeded  on  the  way  to  Damascus,  but  halted 
under  some  trees  beside  a  fountain,  to  refresh  themselves  and 
divide  their  booty.  In  the  division,  Caulah  the  sister  of  Derar 
was  allotted  to  Peter.  This  done,  the  captors  went  into  their 
tents  to  carouse  and  make  merry  with  the  spoils,  leaving  the 
women  among  the  baggage,  bewailing  their  captive  state. 

Caulah,  however,  was  the  worthy  sister  of  Derar.  Instead 
of  weeping  and  wringing  her  hands,  she  reproached  her  com- 
panions with  their  weakness.  "What!"  cried  she,  "  shall  we, 
the  daughters  of  warriors  and  followers  of  Mahomet,  submit 
to  be  the  slaves  and  paramours  of  barbarians  and  idolaters? 
For  my  part,  sooner  will  I  die  1" 

Among  her  fellow-captives  were  Hamzarite  women,  descend- 
ants as  it  is  supposed  of  the  Amalekites  of  old,  and  others  of 
the  tribe  of  Himiar,  all  bold  viragos,  accustomed  from  their 
youth  to  mount  the  horse,  ply  the  bow,  and  launch  the  javelin. 
They  were  roused  by  the  appeal  of  Caulah.  "What,  however, 
can  we  do,"  cried  they,  "having  neither  sword  nor  lance  nor 
bow?" 

"  Let  us  each  take  a  tent  pole,"  replied  Caulah,  "  and  defend 
ourselves  to  the  utmost.  God  may  deliver  us ;  if  not,  we  shall 
die  and  be  at  rest,  leaving  no  stain  upon  our  country."  She 
was  seconded  by  a  resolute  woman  named  Offeirah.  Her 
words  prevailed.  They  all  armed  themselves  with  tent  poles, 
and  Caulah  placed  them  closely  side  by  side  in  a  circle. 
"Stand  firm,"  said  she.  "Let  no  one  pass  between  you; 
parry  the  weapons  of  your  assailants,  and  strike  at  their 
heads." 

With  Caulah,  as  with  her  brother,  the  word  was  accom- 


252  MAHOMET  AND  I/IS  SUCCESSORS, 

parried  by  the  deed ;  for  scarce  haa  she  spoken,  when  a  Greek 
soldier  happening  to  approach,  with  one  blow  of  her  staff  she 
shattered  his  skull. 

The  noise  brought  the  carousers  from  the  tents.  They  sur- 
rounded the  women,  and  sought  to  pacify  them ;  but  whoever 
came  within  reach  of  their  staves  was  sure  to  suffer.  Peter 
was  struck  with  the  matchless  form  and  glowing  beauty  of 
Caulah,  as  she  stood,  fierce  and  fearless,  dealing  her  blows  on 
all  who  approached.  He  charged  his  men  not  to  harm  her, 
and  endeavored  to  win  her  by  soothing  words  and  offers  of 
wealth  and  honor;  but  she  reviled  him  as  an  infidel,  a  dog, 
and  rejected  with  scorn  his  brutal  love.  Incensed  at  length  by 
her  taunts  and  menaces,  he  gave  the  word,  and  his  followers 
rushed  upon  the  women  with  their  scimetars.  The  unequal 
combat  would  soon  have  ended,  when  Khaled  and  Derar  came 
galloping  with  their  cavalry  to  the  rescue.  Khaled  was  heavily 
armed;  but  Derar  was  almost  naked,  on  a  horse  without  a 
saddle,  and  brandishing  a  lance. 

At  sight  of  them  Peter's  heart  quaked ;  he  put  a  stop  to  the 
assault  on  the  women,  and  would  have  made  a  merit  of  de- 
li vering  them  up  unharmed.  "We  have  wives  and  sisters  of 
our  own,"  said  he,  "  and  respect  your  courageous  defence.  Go 
in  peace  to  your  countrymen. " 

He  turned  his  horse's  head,  but  Caulah  smote  the  legs  of  the 
•animal  and  brought  him  to  the  ground ;  and  Derar  thrust  his 
spear  through  the  rider  as  he  fell.  Then  alighting  and  striking 
off  the  head  of  Peter,  he  elevated  it  on  the  point  of  his  lance. 
A  general  action  ensued.  The  enemy  were  routed  and  pur- 
sued with  slaughter  to  the  gates  of  Damascus,  and  great  booty 
was  gained  of  horses  and  armor. 

The  battle  over,  Paul  was  brought  a  prisoner  before  Khaled, 
and  the  gory  head  of  his  brother  was  shown  to  him.  "Such," 
cried  Khaled,  "  will  be  your  fate  unless  you  instantly  embrace 
the  faith  of  Islam."  Paul  wept  over  the  head  of  his  brother, 
and  said  he  wished  not  to  survive  him.  "Enough,"  cried 
Khaled ;  the  signal  was  given,  %  and  the  head  of  Paul  was 
severed  from  his  body. 

The  Moslem  army  now  retired  to  their  old  camp,  where  they 
found  Abu  Obeidah,  who  had  rallied  his  fugitives  and  in 
trenched  himself,  for  it  was  uncertain  how  near  Werdan  and 
his  army  might  be.  Here  the  weary  victors  reposed  them- 
selves from  their  dangers  and  fatigues;  talked  over  the 
fortunes  of  the  day,  and  exulted  in  the  courage  of  their  women. 


MAHOMET  AND  1US  SUCCESSORS.  253 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

BATTLE  OF  AIZNADIN. 

The  army  of  the  prefect  Werdan,  though  seventy  thousand 
in  number,  was  for  the  most  part  composed  of  newly  levied 
troops.  It  lay  encamped  at  Aiznadin,  and  ancient  historians 
speak  much  of  the  splendid  appearance  of  the  imperial  camp, 
rich  in  its  sumptuous  furniture  of  silk  and  gold,  and  of  the 
brilliant  array  of  the  troops  in  burnished  armor,  with  glitter- 
ing  swords  and  lances. 

While  thus  encamped,  Werdan  was  surprised  one  day  to 
behold  clouds  of  dust  rising  in  different  directions,  from  which 
as  they  advanced  broke  forth  the  flash  of  arms  and  din  of 
trumpets.  These  were  in  fact  the  troops  which  Khaled  had 
summoned  by  letter  from  various  parts,  and  which,  though 
widely  separated,  arrived  at  the  appointed  time  with  a  punc- 
tuality recorded  by  the  Arabian  chroniclers  as  miraculous. 

The  Moslems  were  at  first  a  little  daunted  by  the  number  and 
formidable  array  of  the  imperial  host ;  but  Khaled  harangued 
them  in  a  confident  tone.  "You  behold,"  said  he,  "the  last 
stake  of  the  infidels.  This  army  vanquished  and  dispersed, 
they  can  never  muster  another  of  any  force,  and  all  Syria  is 
ours." 

The  armies  lay  encamped  in  sight  of  each  other  all  night, 
and  drew  out  in  battle  array  in  the  morning. 

"  Who  will  undertake,"  said  Khaled,  "  to  observe  the  enemy 
near  at  hand,  and  bring  me  an  account  of  the  number  and 
disposition  of  his  forces?" 

Derar  immediately  stepped  forward.  "Go,"  said  Khaled, 
' '  and  Allah  go  with  thee.  But  I  charge  thee,  Derar,  not  to 
strike  a  blow  unprovoked,  nor  to  expose  thy  life  unneces- 
sarily." 

When  Werdan  saw  a  single  horseman  prowling  in  view 
of  his  army  and  noting  its  strength  and  disposition,  he  sent 
forth  thirty  horsemen  to  surround  and  capture  him.  Derar 
retreated  before  them  until  they  became  separated  in  the 
eagerness  of  pursuit,  then  suddenly  wheeling  he  received  the 
first  upon  the  point  of  his  lance,  and  so  another  and  another, 
thrusting  them  through  or  striking  them  from  their  saddles, 


254  MAHOMET  AND  BIS  SUCCESSORS. 

until  he  had  killed  or  unhorsed  seventeen,  and  so  daunted  the 
rest  that  he  was  enabled  to  make  his  retreat  in  safety. 

Khaled  reproached  him  with  rashness  and  disobedience  of 

orders. 

"I  sought  not  the  fight,"  replied  Derar.  "They  came  forth 
against  me,  and  I  feared  that  God  should  see  me  turn  my  back. 
He  doubtless  aided  me,  and  had  it  not  been  for  your  orders,  I 
should  not  have  desisted  when  I  did." 

Being  informed  by  Derar  of  the  number  and  positions  of  the 
enemy's  troops,  Khaled  marshalled  his  army  accordingly.  He 
gave  command  of  the  right  wing  to  Mead  and  Noman;  the 
left  to  Saad  Ibn  Abu  W akkas  and  Serjabil,  and  took  charge 
of  the  centre  himself,  accompanied  by  Ainru,  Abdalrahman, 
Derar,  Kais,  Rafi,  and  other  distinguished  leaders.  A  body  of 
four  thousand  horse,  under  Yezed  Ebn  Abu  Sofian,  was  posted 
in  the  rear  to  guard  the  baggage  and  the  women. 

But  it  was  not  the  men  alone  that  prepared  for  this  mo- 
mentous battle.  Caulah  and  Offeirah,  and  their  intrepid  com- 
panions, among  whom  were  women  of  the  highest  rank, 
excited  by  their  recent  success,  armed  themselves  with  such 
weapons  as  they  found  at  hand,  and  prepared  to  mingle  in  the 
fight.  Khaled  applauded  their  courage  and  devotion,  assuring 
them  that,  if  they  fell,  the  gates  of  paradise  would  be  open  to 
them.  He  then  formed  them  into  two  battalions,  giving  com- 
mand of  one  to  Caulah,  and  of  the  other  to  Offeirah;  and 
charged  them,  besides  defending  themselves  against  the  enemy, 
to  keep  a  strict  eye  upon  his  own  troops ;  and  whenever  they 
saw  a  Moslem  turn  his  back  upon  the  foe,  to  slay  Mm  as  a 
recreant  and  an  apostate.  Finally  he  rode  through  the  ranks 
of  his  army,  exhorting  them  all  to  fight  with  desperation,  since 
they  had  wives,  children,  honor,  religion,  everything  at  stake, 
and  no  place  of  refuge  should  they  be  defeated. 

The  war  cries  now  arose  from  either  army ;  the  Christians 
shouting  for  "Christ  and  for  the  faith;"  the  Moslems,  "La 
I'laha  ilia  Allah,  Mohammed  Resoul  Allah !"  ' '  There  is  but  one 
God !  Mahomet  is  the  prophet  of  God." 

Just  before  the  armies  engaged^a  venerable  man  came  forth 
from  among  the  Christians,  and,  approaching  Khaled,  de- 
manded, "Art  thou  the  general  of  this  army?"  "I  am  con- 
sidered such,"  replied  Khaled,  "while  I  am  true  to  God,  the 
Koran,  and  the  prophet." 

"Thou  art  come  unprovoked,"  said  the  old  man,  "thou  and 
thy  host,  to  invade  this  Christian  land.     Be  not  too  certain  of 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  2o5 

success.  Others  who  have  heretofore  invaded  this  land  have 
found  a  tomh  instead  of  a  triumph.  Look  at  this  host.  It  is 
more  numerous  and  perhaps  better  disciplined  than  thine. 
Why  wilt  thou  tempt  a  battle  which  may  end  in  thy  defeat, 
and  must  at  all  events  cost  thee  most  lamentable  bloodshed ! 
Retire,  then,  in  peace,  and  spare  the  miseries  which  must 
otherwise  fall  upon  either  army.  Shouldst  thou  do  so,  I  am 
authorized  to  offer,  for  every  soldier  in  thy  host,  a  suit  of  gar- 
ments, a  turban,  and  a  piece  of  gold;  for  thyself  a  hundred 
pieces  and  ten  silken  robes,  and  for  thy  Caliph  a  thousand 
pieces  and  a  hundred  robes." 

"You  proffer  a  part,"  replied  Khaled  scornfully,  "to  one 
who  will  soon  possess  the  whole.  For  yourselves  there  are  but 
three  conditions :  embrace  the  faith,  pay  tribute,  or  expect  the 
sword."  With  this  rough  reply  the  venerable  man  returned 
sorrowfully  to  the  Christian  host. 

Still  Khaled  was  unusually  wary.  ' '  Our  enemies  are  two  to 
one,"  said  he;  "we  must  have  patience  and  out  wind  them. 
Let  us  hold  back  until  nightfall,  for  that  with  the  prophet  was 
the  propitious  time  of  victory." 

The  enemy  now  threw  their  Armenian  archers  in  the  ad- 
vance, and  several  Moslems  were  killed  and  wounded  with 
flights  of  arrows.  Still  Khaled  restrained  the  impatience  of 
his  troops,  ordering  that  no  man  should  stir  from  his  post. 
The  impetuous  Derar  at  length  obtained  permission  to  attack 
the  assaulting  band  of  archers,  and  spurred  vigorously  upon 
them  with  his  troop  of  horse.  They  faltered,  but  were  re- 
inforced ;  troops  were  sent  to  sustain  Derar ;  many  were  slain 
on  both  sides,  but  success  inclined  to  the  Moslems. 

The  action  was  on  the  point  of  becoming  general,  when  a 
horseman  from  the  advance  army  galloped  up,  and  inquired 
for  the  Moslem  general.  Khaled,  considering  it  a  challenge, 
levelled  his  lance  for  the  encounter.  "  Turn  thy  lance  aside,  I 
pray  thee,"  cried  the  Christian  eagerly;  "  I  am  but  a  messen- 
ger, and  seek  a  parley." 

Khaled  quietly  reined  up  his  steed,  and  laid  his  lance  athwart 
the  pommel  of  his  saddle:  "  Speak  to  the  purpose,"  said  he, 
"and  tell  no  lies." 

"I  will  tell  the  naked  truth;  dangerous  for  me  to  tell,  but 
most  important  for  thee  to  hear;  but  first  promise  protection 
for  myself  and  family." 

Having  obtained  this  promise,  the  messenger,  whose  name 
was  David,  proceeded:  "I  am  seiit  by  Werdan  to  entreat  that 


256  MAIIOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

the  battle  may  cease,  and  the  blood  of  brave  men  be  spared; 
and  that  thou  wilt  meet  him  to-morrow  morning,  singly,  in 
sight  of  either  army,  to  treat  of  terms  of  peace.  Such  is  my 
message;  but  beware,  oh  Khaled!  for  treason  lurks  beneath  it. 
Ten  chosen  men,  well  armed,  will  be  stationed  in  the  night 
close  by  the  place  of  conference,  to  surprise  and  seize,  or  kill 
thee,  when  defenceless  and  off  thy  guard." 

lie  then  proceeded  to  mention  the  place  appointed  for  the  com 
ference,  and  all  the  other  particulars.  "  Enough,"  said  Khaled. 
"Return  to  Werdan,  and  tell  him  I  agree  to  meet  him." 

The  Moslems  were  astonished  at  hearing  a  retreat  sounded, 
when  the  conflict  was  inclining  in  their  favor ;  they  withdrew 
reluctantly  from  the  field,  and  Abu  Obeidah  and  Derar  de- 
manded of  Khaled  the  meaning  of  his  conduct.  He  informed 
them  of  what  had  just  been  revealed  to  him.  "I  will  keep 
this  appointment,"  said  he.  "I  will  go  singly,  and  will  bring 
back  the  heads  of  all  the  assassins."  Abu  Obeidah,  however, 
remonstrated  against  his  exposing  himself  to  such  unnecessary 
danger.  "Take  ten  men  with  thee,"  said  he,  "man  for  man." 
"  Why  defer  the  punishment  of  their  perfidy  until  morning?" 
cried  Derar.  "Give  me  the  ten  men,  and  I  will  counterplot 
these  lurkers  this  very  night." 

Having  obtained  permission,  he  picked  out  ten  men  of 
assured  coolness  and  courage,  and  set  off  with  them  in  the 
dead  of  the  night  for  the  place  of  ambush.  As  they  drew  near 
Derar  caused  his  companions  to  halt,  and,  putting  off  his 
clothes  to  prevent  all  rustling  noise,  crept  warily  with  his 
naked  scimetar  to  the  appointed  ground.  Here  he  beheld  the 
ten  men  fast  asleep,  with  their  weapons  beneath  their  heads. 
Returning  silently,  and  beckoning  his  companions,  they  sin- 
gled out  each  his  man,  so  that  the  whole  were  dispatched  at 
a  blow.  They  then  stripped  the  dead,  disguised  themselves  in 
their  clothes,  and  awaited  the  coming  day. 

The  rising  sun  shone  on  the  two  armies  drawn  out  in  battlo 
array,  and  awaiting  the  parley  oi  the  chiefs.  Werdan  rode 
forth  on  a  white  mule,  and  was  arrayed  in  rich  attire,  with 
chains  of  gold  and  precious  stones.  Khaled  was  clad  in  a 
yellow  sdk  vest  and  green  turban.  He  suffered  himself  to  be 
drawn  by  Werdan  toward  the  place  of  ambush;  then,  alighting 
and  seating  themselves  on  the  ground,  they  entered  into  a 
parley.  Their  conference  was  brief  and  boisterous.  Each 
considered  the  other  in  his  power,  and  conducted  himself  with 
haughtiness  and  acrimony.     Werdan  spoke  of  the  Moslems  as 


MAHOMET  AND  JITS  SUCCESSORS.  257 

needy  spoilers,  who  lived  by  tbe  sword,  and  invaded  the  fer- 
tile territories  of  their  neighbors  in  quest  of  plunder.  "We, 
on  the  other  hand,"  said  he,  "are  wealthy,  and  desire  peace. 
Speak,  what  do  you  require  to  relieve  your  wants  and  satisfy 
your  rapacity?" 

"Miserable  infidel!"  replied  Khalcd.  "We  are  not  so  poor 
as  to  accept  alms  at  your  hands.  Allah  provides  for  us.  You 
offer  us  a  part  of  what  is  all  our  own ;  for  Allah  has  put  all 
that  you  have  into  our  hands ;  even  to  your  wives  and  chil- 
dren. But  do  you  desire  peace?  We  have  already  told  you 
our  conditions.  Either  acknowledge  that  there  is  no  other 
God.  but  God,  and  that  Mahomet  is  his  prophet,  or  pay  us 
ouch  tribute  as  we  may  impose.  Do  you  refuse?  For  what, 
then,  have  you  brought  me  here?  You  knew  our  terms  yester- 
day, and  that  all  your  propositions  were  rejected.  Do  you 
entice  me  here  alone  for  single  combat?  Be  it  so,  and  let  our 
weapons  decide  between  us." 

So  saying,  he  sprang  upon  his  feet.  Werdan  also  rose,  but 
expecting  instant  aid,  neglected  to  draw  his  sword.  Khaled 
seized  him  by  the  throat,  upon  which  he  called  loudly  to  his 
men  in  ambush.  The  Moslems  in  ambush  rushed  forth,  and. 
deceived  by  their  Grecian  dresses,  Werdan  for  an  instant 
thought  himself  secure.  As  they  drew  near  ho  discovered  his 
mistake,  and  shrank  with  horror  at  the  sight  of  Derar,  who 
advanced,  almost  naked,  brandishing  a  scimetar,  and  in  whom 
he  recognized  the  slayer  of  his  son.  "Mercy!  Mercy!"  cried 
ho  to  Khaled,  at  finding  himself  caught  in  his  own  snare. 

"There  is  no  mercy,"  replied  Khaled,  "for  him  who  has  no 
faith.  You  came  to  me  with  peace  on  your  lips,  but  murder 
in  your  heart.     Your  crime  be  upon  your  head. " 

The  sentence  was  no  sooner  pronounced  than  the  powerful 
sword  of  Derar  performed  its  office,  and  the  head  of  Werdan 
was  struck  off  at  a  blow.  The  gory  trophy  was  elevated  on 
the  point  of  a  lance  and  borne  by  the  little  band  toward  the 
Christian  troops,  who,  deceived  by  the  Greek  disguises,  sup- 
posed it  the  head  of  Khaled  and  shouted  with  joy.  Their 
triumph  was  soon  turned  to  dismay  as  they  discovered  their 
error.  Khaled  did  not  suffer  them  to  recover  from  their  con- 
fusion, but  bade  his  trumpets  sound  a  general  charge.  What 
ensued  was  a  massacre  rather  than  a  battle.  The  imperial 
army  broke  and  fled  in  all  directions ;  some  toward  Csesarea, 
others  to  Damascus,  and  others  to  Antioch.  The  booty  was 
immense:  crosses  cf  silver  and  geld,  adorned  with  precious 


258  MAHOMET  AND  MS  SUCC1£SS0XS. 

stones,  rich  chains  and  bracelets,  jewels  of  price,  silken  robes, 
armor  and  weapons  of  all  kinds,  and  numerous  banners,  all 
which  Khaled  declared  should  not  be  divided  until  after' tho 
capture  of  Damascus. 

Tidings  of  this  great  victory  was  sent  to  the  Caliph  at  Me- 
dina, by  his  brave  and  well-beloved  son  Abda'lrahman.  On 
receiving  it,  Abu  Beker  prostrated  himself  and  returned  thanks 
to  God.  The  news  spread  rapidly  throughout  Arabia.  Hosts 
of  adventurers  hurried  to  Medina  from  all  parts,  and  especially 
from  Mecca,  All  were  eager  to  serve  in  the  cause  of  the  faith, 
now  that  they  found  it  crowned  with  conquest  and  rewarded 
with  riches. 

The  worthy  Abu  Beker  was  disposed  to  gratify  their  wishes, 
but  Omar,  on  being  consulted,  sternly  objected.  "The  greater 
part  of  these  fellows,"  said  he,  "who  are  so  eager  to  join  us  now 
that  we  are  successful,  are  those  who  sought  to  crush  us  when 
we  were  few  and  feeble.  They  care  not  for  the  faith,  but  they 
long  to  ravish  the  rich  fields  of  Syria,  and  share  the  plunder  of 
Damascus.  Send  them  not  to  the  army  to  make  brawls  and 
dissensions.  Those  already  there  are  sufficient  to  complete 
what  they  have  begun.  They  have  won  the  victory;  let  them 
enjoy  tho  spoils. " 

In  compliance  with  this  advice,  Abu  Beker  refused  tho 
prayer  of  the  applicants.  Upon  this  the  people  of  Mecca,  and 
especially  those  of  the  tribe  of  Koreish,  sent  a  powerful  depu- 
tation, headed  by  Abu  Sofian,  to  remonstrate  with  the  Caliph. 
"Why  are  we  denied  permission,"  said  they,  "  to  fight  in  the 
cause  of  our  religion?  It  is  true  that  in  the  days  of  darkness 
and  ignorance  we  made  war  on  the  disciples  of  the  prophet, 
because  we  thought  we  were  doing  God  service.  Allah,  how- 
ever, has  blessed  us  with  the  light;  we  have  seen  and  re- 
nounced our  former  errors.  We  are  your  brethren  in  tho 
faith,  as  we  have  ever  been  your  kindred  in  blood,  and  hereby 
take  upon  ourselves  to  fight  in  the  common  cause.  Let  there 
then  no  longer  be  jealousy  and  envy  between  us." 

The  heart  of  the  Caliph  was  moved  by  these  remonstrances. 
He  consulted  with  Ali  and  Omar,  and  it  was  agreed  that  tho 
tribe  of  Koreish  should  be  permitted  J;o  join  the  army.  Abu 
Beker  accordingly  wrote  to  Khaled  congratulating  him  on  his 
success,  and  informing  him  that  a  large  reinforcement  would 
join  him  conducted  by  Abu  Sofian.  This  letter  he  sealed  with 
the  seal  of  the  prophet,  and  dispatched  it  by  his  son  Abda'lrah- 
tnan- 


MAU011ET  AND  IIIS  SUCCElSlSOliS.  259 


CHAPTER  IX. 

OCCURRENCES    BEFORE    DAMASCUS — EXPLOITS    OF   THOMAS — ABAN 
IBN  ZEID  AND  HIS  AMAZONIAN   WIFE. 

The  fugitives  from  the  field  of  Aiznaclin  carried  to  Damascus 
the  dismal  tidings  that  the  army  was  overthrown,  and  the  last 
hope  of  succor  destroyed.  Great  was  the  consternation  of  the 
inhabitants,  yet  they  set  to  work,  with  desperate  activity,  to 
prepare  for  the  coming  storm.  The  fugitives  had  reinforced  the 
garrison  with  several  thousand  effective  men.  New  fortifica- 
tions were  hastily  erected.  The  walls  were  lined  with  engines 
to  discharge  stones  and  darts,  which  were  managed  by  Jews 
skilled  in  their  use. 

In  the  midst  of  their  preparation,  they  beheld  squadron 
after  squadron  of  Moslem  cavalry  emerging  from  among  dis- 
tant groves,  while  a  lengthening  line  of  foot  soldiers  poured 
along  between  the  gardens.  This  was  the  order  of  march  of 
the  Moslem  host.  The  advance  guard,  of  upward  of  nine 
thousand  horsemen,  was  led  by  Amru.  Then  came  two  thou- 
sand Koreishite  horse,  led  by  Abu  Sofian.  Then  a  like  num- 
ber under  Serjabil.  Then  Omar  Ibn  Eabiyah  with  a  similar 
division;  then  the  main  body  of  the  army  led  by  Abu  Obeidah, 
and  lastly  the  rear-guard  displaying  the  black  eagle,  the  fateful 
banner  of  Khaled,  and  led  by  that  invincible  warrior. 

Khaled  now  assembled  his  captains,  and  assigned  to  them 
their  different  stations.  Abu  Sofian  was  posted  opposite  the 
southern  gate.  Serjabil  opposite  that  of  St.  Thomas.  Amru 
before  that  of  Paradise,  and  Kais  Ibn  Hobeirah  before  that  of 
Kaisan.  Abu  Obeidah  encamped  at  some  distance,  in  front  of 
the  gate  of  Jabiyah,  and  was  charged  to  be  strict  and  vigilant, 
and  to  make  frequent  assaults,  for  Khaled  knew  his  humane 
and  easy  nature.  As  to  Khaled  himself,  he  took  his  station 
and  planted  his  black  eagle  before  the  eastern  gate. 

There  was  still  a  southern  gate,  that  of  St.  Mark,  so  situated 
that  it  was  not  practicable  to  establish  posts  or  engage  in 
skirmishes  before  it:  it  was,  therefore,  termed  the  Gate  of 
Peace.  As  to  the  active  and  impetuous  Derar,  he  was  ordered 
to  patrol  round  the  walls  and  scour  the  adjacent  plain  at  the 
head  of  two  thousand  horse,  protecting  the  camp  from  surprise 
and  preventing  supplies  and  reinforcements  to  the  city.  ' '  If 
you  should  be  attacked,"  said  Khaled,  "send  me  word,  and  I 


2Q0  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

will  come  to  your  assistance."  "And  must  I  stand  peaceably 
until  you  arrive?"  said  Derar,  in  recollection  of  former  re- 
proofs of  his  rash  contests.  "  Not  so,"  rejoined  Khalcd,  "but 
fight  stoutly,  and  be  assured  I  will  not  fail  you.  The  rest  of 
the  army  were  dismounted  to  carry  on  the  siege  on  foot. 

The  Moslems  were  now  better  equipped  for  war  than  ever, 
having  supplied  themselves  with  armor  and  weapons  taken  in 
repeated  battles.  As  yet,  however,  they  retained  their  Arab 
frugality  and  plainness,  neglecting  the  delicate  viands,  the 
sumptuous  raiment,  and  other  luxurious  indulgences  of  their 
enemies.  Even  Abu  Obeidah,  in  the  humility  of  his  spirit, 
contented  himself  with  Ms  primitive  Arab  tent  of  camel's  hair ; 
refusing  the  sumptuous  tents  of  the  Christian  commanders, 
won  in  the  recent  battle.  Such  were  the  stern  and  simple' 
minded  invaders  of  the  effeminate  and  sensual  nations  of  the 
East. 

The  first  assaults  of  the  Moslems  were  bravely  repelled,  and 
many  were  slain  by  darts  and  stones  hurled  by  the  machines 
from  the  wall.  The  garrison  even  ventured  to  make  a  sally, 
but  were  driven  back  with  signal  slaughter.  The  siege  was 
then  pressed  with  unremitting  rigor,  until  no  one  dared  to 
venture  beyond  the  bulwarks.  The  principal  inhabitants  now 
consulted  together  whether  it  were  not  best  to  capitulate, 
while  there  was  yet  a  chance  of  obtaining  favorable  terms. 

There  was  at  this  time  living  in  Damascus  a  noble  Greek, 
named  Thomas,"  who  was  married  to  a  daughter  of  the  emperor 
Heraclius.  He  held  no  post,  but  was  greatly  respected,  for  he 
was  a  man  of  talents  and  consummate  courage.  In  this  mo- 
ment of  general  depression  he  endeavored  to  rouse  the  spirits 
of  the  people;  representing  their  invaders  as  despicable,  bar- 
barous, naked,  and  poorly  armed,  without  discipline  or  mili- 
tary service,  and  formidable  only  through  their  mad  fanati- 
cism, and  the  panic  they  had  spread  through  the  country. 

Finding  all  arguments  in  vain,  he  offered  to  take  the  lead 
himself,  if  they  would  venture  upon  another  sally.  *  His  offer 
was  accepted,  and  the  next  morning  appointed  for  the  effort. 

Khaled  perceived  a  stir  of  preparation  throughout  the  night, 
lights  gleaming  in  the  turrets  and  along  the  battlements,  and 
exhorted  his  men  to  be  vigilant,  for  he  anticipated  some  des- 
pei*ate  movement.  "  Let  no  man  sleep,"  said  he.  "  We  shall 
have  rest  enough  after  death,  and  sweet  will  be  the  repose  that 
is  never  more  to  be  followed  by  labor." 

The  Christians  were  sadly  devout  in  this  hour  of  extremity. 


MAHOMET  AND  MS  SUCCESSORS.  201 

At  early  dawn  the  bishop,  in  his  robes,  proceeded  at  the  head 
of  the  clergy  to  the  gate  by  which  the  sally  was  to  be  made, 
where  he  elevated  the  cross,  and  laid  beside  it  the  New  Testa- 
ment. As  Thomas  passed  out  at  the  gate,  he  laid  his  hand 
upon  the  sacred  volume.  "Oh  God!"  exclaimed  he,  "if  our 
faith  be  true,  aid  us,  and  deliver  us  not  into  the  hands  of  its 
enemies." 

The  Moslems,  who  had  been  on  the  alert,  were  advancing  to 
attack  just  at  the  time  of  the  sally,  but  were  checked  by  a  gen- 
eral discharge  from  the  engines  on  the  wall.  Thomas  led  his 
troops  bravely  to  the  encounter,  and  the  conflict  was  fierce 
and  bloody.  He  was  a  dexterous  archer,  and  singled  out  the 
most  conspicuous  of  the  Moslems,  who  fell  one  after  another 
beneath  his  shafts.  Among  others,  he  wounded  Aban  Ibn  Zeid 
with  an  arrow  tipped  with  poison.  The  latter  bound  up  the 
wound  with  his  turban,  and  continued  in  the  field,  but  being 
overcome  by  the  venom  was  conveyed  to  the  camp.  He  had 
but  recently  been  married  to  a  beautiful  woman  of  the  intrepid 
race  of  the  Himiar,  one  of  those  Amazons  accustomed  to  use 
the  bow  and  arrow,  and  to  mingle  in  warfare. 

Hearing  that  her  husband  was  wounded,  she  hastened  to  his 
tent,  but  before  she  could  reach  it  he  had  expired.  She  uttered 
no  lamentation,  nor  shed  a  tear,  but,  bending  over  the  body, 
"  Happy  art  thou,  oh  my  beloved,"  said  she,  "for  thou  art  with 
Allah,  who  joined  us  but  to  part  us  from  each  other.  But  I 
will  avenge  thy  death,  and  then  seek  to  join  thee  in  paradise. 
Henceforth  shall  no  man  touch  me  more,  for  I  dedicate  myself 
to  God." 

Then  grasping  her  husband's  bow  and  arrows,  she  hastened 
to  the  field  in  quest  of  Thomas,  who,  she  had  been  told,  was 
the  slayer  of  her  husband.  Pressing  toward  the  place  where 
he  was  fighting,  she  let  fly  a  shaft,  which  wounded  his  stand- 
ard-bearer in  the  hand.  The  standard  fell,  and  was  borne  off 
by  the  Moslems.  Thomas  pursued  it,  laying  about  him  furi- 
ously, and  calling  upon  his  men  to  rescue  their  banner.  It  was 
shifted  from  hand  to  hand  until  it  came  into  that  of  Serjabil. 
Thomas  assailed  him  with  his  scimetar;  Serjabil  threw  the 
st  ndard  among  his  troops  and  closed  with  him.  They  fought 
with  equal  ardor,  but  Thomas  was  gaining  the  advantage, 
when  an  arrow,  shot  by  the  wife  of  Aban,  smote  him  in  the 
e.  He  staggered  with  the  wound,  but  his  men,  abandoning 
the  contested  standard,  rushed  to  his  support  and  bore  him  off 
to  the  city.     He  refused  to  retire  to  his  home,  and,  his  wound 


262  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

being  dressed  on  the  ramparts,  would  have  returned  to  the 
conflict,  hut  was  overruled  by  the  public.  He  took  his  station, 
however,  at  the  city  gate,  whence  he  could  survey  the  field  and 
issue  his  orders.  The  battle  continued  with  great  fury;  but 
such  showers  of  stones  and  darts  and  other  missiles  were  dis- 
charged by  the  Jews  from  the  engines  on  the  walls  that  the  be- 
siegers were  kept  at  a  distance.  Night  terminated  the  conflict. 
The  Moslems  returned  to  their  camp  wearied  with  a  long  day's 
fighting;  and,  throwing  themselves  on  the  earth,  were  soon 
buried  in  profound  sleep. 

Thomas,  finding  the  courage  of  the  garrison  roused  by  the 
stand  they  had  that  day  made,  resolved  to  put  it  to  further 
proof.  At  his  suggestion  preparations  were  made  in  the  dead 
of  the  night  for  a  general  sally  at  daybreak  from  all  the  gates 
of  the  city.  At  the  signal  of  a  single  stroke  upon  a  bell  at  the 
first  peep  of  dawn,  all  the  gates  were  thrown  open,  and  from 
each  rushed  forth  a  torrent  of  warriors  upon  the  nearest  en- 
campment. 

So  silently  had  the  preparations  been  made  that  the  besiegers 
Were  completely  taken  by  surprise.  The  trumpets  sounded 
alarms,  the  Moslems  started  from  sleep  and  snatched  up  their 
weapons,  but  the  enemy  were  already  upon  them,  and  struck 
them  down  before  they  had  recovered  from  their  amazement. 
For  a  time  it  was  a  slaughter  rather  than  a  fight,  at  the  vari- 
ous stations.  Kbaled  is  said  to  have  shed  tears  at  beholding 
the  carnage.  "  Oh  thou,  who  never  sleepest!"  cried  he,  in  the 
agony  of  his  heart,  "aid  thy  faithful  servants;  let  them  not 
fall  beneath  the  weapons  of  these  infidels."  Then,  followed  by 
four  hundred  horsemen,  he  spurred  about  the  field  wherever 
relief  was  most  needed. 

The  hottest  of  the  fight  was  opposite  the  gate  whence  Thomas 
had  sallied.  Here  Serjabil  had  his  station,  and  fought  with 
undaunted  valor.  Near  him  was  the  intrepid  wife  of  Aban, 
doing  deadly  execution  with  her  shafts.  She  had  expended  all 
but  one,  when  a  Greek  soldier  attempted  to  seize  her.  In  an 
instant  the  arrow  was  sped  through  his  throat,  and  laid  him 
dead  at  her  feet ;  but  she  was  now  weaponless,  and  was  taken 
prisoner.  ^. 

At  the  same  time  Serjabil  and  Thomas  were  again  engaged 
hand  to  hand  with  equal  valor ;  but  the  scimetar  of  Serjabil 
broke  on  the  buckler  of  his  adversary,  and  he  was  on  the  point 
of  being  slain  or  captured,  when  Khaled  and  Abda'lrahman 
galloped  up  with  a  troop  of  horse.     Thomas  was  obliged  to 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  233 

take  refuge  in  the  city,  and  &erJabiT  and  the  Amazonian  widow 
were  rescued. 

The  troops  who  sallied  out  at  che  gate  of  Jabiyah  met  with 
the  severest  treatment.  The  meek  Abu  Obeidah  was  stationed 
in  front  of  that  gate,  and  was  slumbering  qiiietly  in  his  hair 
tent  at  the  time  of  the  sally.  His  first  care  in  the  moment  of 
alarm  was  to  repeat  the  morning  prayer.  He  then  ordered 
forth  a  body  of  chosen  men  to  keep  the  enemy  at  bay,  and 
while  they  were  fighting,  led  another  detachment,  silently  but 
rapidly,  round  between  the  combatants  and  the  city.  The 
Greeks  thus  suddenly  found  themselves  assailed  in  front  and 
rear;  they  fought  desperately,  but  so  successful  was  the  strata- 
gem, and  so  active  the  valor  of  the  meek  Abu  Obeidah,  when 
once  aroused,  that  never  a  man,  says  the  Arabian  historian, 
that  sallied  from  that  gate,  returned  again. 

The  battle  of  the  night  was  almost  as  sanguinary  as  that  of 
the  day;  the  Christians  were  repulsed  in  all  quarters,  and 
driven  once  more  within  their  walls,  leaving  several  thousand 
dead  upon  the  field.  The  Moslems  followed  them  to  the  very 
gates,  but  were  compelled  to  retire  by  the  deadly  shower 
hurled  by  the  Jews  from  the  engines  on  the  walls. 


CHAPTER  X. 


SURRENDER  OF  DAMASCUS— DISPUTES  OF  THE  SARACEN  GENERALS 
—DEPARTURE   OF  THOMAS  AND  THE  EXILES. 

For  seventy  days  had  Damascus  been  besieged  by  the  fa- 
natic legions  of  the  desert :  the  inhabitants  had  no  longer  the 
heart  to  make  further  sallies,  but  again  began  to  talk  of  ca- 
pitulating. It  was  in  vain  that  Thomas  urged  them  to  have 
patience  until  he  should  write  to  the  emperor  for  succor ;  they 
listened  only  to  their  fears,  and  sent  to  Khaled  begging  a  trace, 
that  they  might  have  time  to  treat  of  a  surrender.  That  fierce 
warrior  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  their  prayer :  he  wished  for  no 
surrender,  that  would  protect  the  lives  and  property  of  the  be- 
sieged ;  he  was  bent  upon  taking  the  city  by  the  sword,  and 
giving  it  up  to  be  plundered  by  his  Arabs. 

In  their  extremity  the  people  of  Damascus  turned  to  the 
etood  Abu  Obeidah,  whom  they  knew  to  be  meek  and  humane. 


264  MAHOMET  AND  JUS  SUCCESSORS. 

Having  first  treated  with  bim  by  a  messenger  who  understood 
Arabic,  and  received  his  promise  of  security,  a  hundred  of  the 
principal  inhabitants,  including  the  most  venerable  of  the 
clergy,  issued  privately  one  night  by  the  gate  of  Jabiyah,  and 
sought  his  presence.  They  found  this  leader  of  a  mighty  force, 
that  was  shaking  the  empire  of  the  Orient,  living  in  a  humble 
tent  of  hair-cloth,  like  a  mere  wanderer  of  the  desert.  He 
listened  favorably  to  their  proposition,  for  his  object  was  con- 
version rather  than  conquest  ;  tribute  rather  than  plunder. 
A  covenant  was  soon  written,  in  which  he  engaged  that 
hostilities  should  cease  on  their  delivering  the  city  into  his 
hands;  that  such  of  the  inhabitants  as  pleased  might  depart 
in  safety  with  as  much  of  their  effects  as  the}7  could  carry, 
and  those  who  remained  as  tributaries  should  retain  their 
property,  and  have  seven  churches  allotted  to  them.  This 
covenant  was  not  signed  by  Abu  Obeidah,  not  being  com- 
mander-in-chief, but  he  assured  the  envoys  it  would  be  held 
sacred  by  the  Moslems. 

The  capitulation  being  arranged,  and  hostages  given  for  the 
good  faith  of  the  besieged,  the  gate  opposite  to  the  encamp- 
ment of  Abu  Obeidah  was  thrown  open,  and  the  venerable 
chief  entered  at  the  head  of  a  hundred  men  to  take  possession. 

While  these  transactions  were  taking  place  at  the  gate  of 
Jabiyah,  a  different  scene  occurred  at  the  eastern  gate. 
K  haled  was  exasperated  by  the  death  of  a  brother  of  Amru, 
shot  from  the  walls  with  a  poisoned  arrow.  In  the  height  of 
his  indignation,  an  apostate  priest,  named  Josias,  undertook 
to  deliver  the  gate  into  his  hands,  on  condition  of  security  of 
person  and  property  for  himself  and  his  relatives. 

By  means  of  this  traitor,  a  hundred  Arabs  were  secretly 
introduced  within  the  walls,  who  rushing  to  the  eastern  gate, 
broke  the  bolts  and  bars  and  chains  by  which  it  was  fastened, 
and.  threw  it  open  with  the  signal  shout  of  Allah  Achbar! 

Khaled  and  his  legions  poured  in  at  the  gate  with  sound  of 
trumpet  and  tramp  of  steed;  putting  all  to  the  sword,  end 
deluging  the  streets  with  blood.  "Mercy!  Mercy!"  was  the 
cry.     "  No  mercy  for  infidels !"  was  Khaled's  fierce  response. 

He  pursued  his  career  of  carnage  into  the  great  squa.ro  be 
fore  the  church  of  the  Virgin  Mary.  Here,  to  his  astonish- 
ment, he  beheld  Abu  Obeidah  and  his  attendants,  their  swords 
sheathed,  and  marching  in  solemn  procession  with  priests  and 
monks  and  the  principal  inhabitants,  and  surrounded  by 
women  and  children. 


MAUOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  265 

Abu  Obei Jah  saw  fury  anJ  surprise  in  the  looks  of  Khale J, 
an  J  hastened  to  propitiate  him  by  gentle  words.  "Allah  in 
his  mercy,"  said  he,  "has  delivered  this  city  into  my  hands 
Ly  peaceful  surrender;  sparing  the  effusion  of  blood  and  the 
necessity  of  fighting." 

"  Not  so,"  cried  Khaled  in  a  furo.  "I  have  won  it  with  this 
sword,  and  I  grant  no  quarter." 

"But  I  have  given  the  inhabitants  a  covenant  written  with 
my  own  hand." 

"And  what  right  had  you, "  demanded  Khaled,  "  to  grant  a 
capitulation  without  consulting  me?  Am  I  not  the  general? 
Yes,  by  Allah !  and  to  prove  it  I  wdl  put  every  inhabitant  to 
the  sword." 

Abu  Obeidah  felt  that  in  point  of  military  duty  he  had  erred, 
but  he  sought  to  pacify  Khaled,  assuring  him  he  had  intended 
all  for  the  best,  and  felt  sure  of  his  approbation,  entreating 
him  to  respect  the  covenant  he  had  made  in  the  name  of  God 
and  the  prophet,  and  with  the  approbation  of  aU  the  Moslem?, 
present  at  the  transaction. 

Several  of  the  Moslem  officers  seconded  Abu  Obeidah,  and 
endeavored  to  persuade  Khaled  to  agree  to  the  capitulation. 
While  he  hesitated,  his  troops,  impatient  of  delay,  resumed 
the  work  of  massacre  and  pillage. 

The  patience  of  the  good  Abu  Obeidah  was  at  an  end.  "  By 
Allah!"  cried  he,  "my  word  is  treated  as  nought,  anr<  my 
covenant  is  trampled  under  foot!r 

Spurring  his  horse  among  the  marauders,  he  commanded 
them,  in  the  name  of  the  prophet,  to  desist  until  he  and 
Khaled  should  have  time  to  settle  their  dispute.  The  name  of 
the  prophet  had  its  effect;  the  soldiery  paused  in  their  bloody 
career,  and  the  two  generals  with  their  officers  retired  to  the 
church  of  the  Virgin. 

Here,  after  a  sharp  altercation,  Khaled,  callous  to  all  claims 
of  justice  and  mercy,  was  brought  to  listen  to  policy.  It  was 
represented  to  him  that  he  was  invading  a  country  where 
many  cities  were  yet  to  be  taken ;  that  it  was  important  to 
respect  the  capitulations  of  his  generals,  even  though  they 
might  not  be  altogether  to  his  mind;  otherwise  the  Moslem 
word  would  cease  to  be  trusted,  and  other  cities,  warned  by 
the  fate  of  Damascus,  instead  of  surrendering  on  favorable 
terms,  might  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  all  offers  of  mercy  and  fight  to 
the  last  extremity. 

It  was  with  the  utmost  difficulty  that  Abu  Obeidah  wrung 


266  MAHOMET  AND  niS  SUCCESSORS. 

from  the  iron  soul  of  Ehaled  a  slow  consent  to  his  capitulation, 

on  condition  that  the  whole  matter  should  be  referred  to  the 
Caliph.  At  every  article  he  paused  and  murmured.  He 
would  fain  have  inflicted  death  upon  Thomas,  and  another 
leader  named  Herbis,  but  Abu  Obeidah  insisted  that  they  were 
expressly  included  in  the  covenant. 

Proclamation  was  then  made  that  such  of  the  inhabitants  as 
chose  to  remain  tributaries  to  the  Caliph  should  enjoy  the 
exercise  of  their  religion ;  the  rest  were  permitted  to  depart. 
The  greater  part  preferred  to  remain ;  but  some  determined  to 
follow  their  champion  Thomas  to  Antioch.  The  latter  prayed 
for  a  passport  or  a  safe-conduct  through  the  country  con- 
trolled by  the  Moslems.  After  much  difficulty  Khaled  granted 
them  three  days'  grace,  during  which  they  should  be  safe  from 
molestation  or  pursuit,  on  condition  they  took  nothing  with 
them  but  provisions. 

Here  the  worthy  Abu  Obeidah  interfered,  declaring  that  he 
had  covenanted  to  let  them  go  forth  with  bag  and  baggage. 
"Then,"  said  Khaled,  "  they  shall  go  unarmed."  Again  Abu 
Obeidah  interfered,  and  Khaled  at  length  consented  that  they 
should  have  arms  sufficient  to  defend  themselves  against  rob- 
bers and  wild  beasts;  he,  however,  who  had  a  lance,  shoidd 
have  no  sword ;  and  he  who  had  a  bow  should  have  no  lance. 

Thomas  and  Herbis,  who  were  to  conduct  this  unhappy 
caravan,  pitched  their  tents  in  the  meadow  adjacent  to  the 
city,  whither  all  repaired  who  were  to  follow  them  into  exile, 
each  laden  with  plate,  jewels,  silken  stuffs,  and  whatever  was 
most  precious  and  least  burdensome.  Among  other  things  was 
a  wardrobe  of  the  emperor  Heraclius,  in  which  there  were 
above  three  hundred  loads  of  costly  silks  and  cloth  of  gold. 

All  being  assembled,  the  sad  multitude  set  forth  on  their 
wayfaring.  Those  who  from  pride,  from  patriotism,  or  from 
religion,  thus  doomed  themselves  to  poverty  and  exile,  were 
among  the  noblest  and  most  highly  bred  of  the  land ;  people 
accustomed  to  soft  and  luxurious  life,  and  to  the  silken  abodes 
of  palaces.  Of  this  number  was  the  wife  of  Thomas,  a  daughter 
of  the  emperor  Heraclius,  who  was  attended  by  her  maidens. 
It  was  a  piteous  sight  to  behold  aged  men,  delicate  and  shrink- 
ing women,  and  helpless  children,  thus  setting  forth  on  a 
wandering  journey  through  wastes  and  deserts,  and  rugged 
mountains,  infested  by  savage  hordes.  Many  a  time  did  they 
turn  to  cut  a  look  of  fondness  and  despair  on  those  sumptuous 
palaces  and  delightful  gardens,  once  their  pride  and  joy;  and 


MAHOMET  AND   HIS  SUCCESSORS.  2G7 

still  would  they  turn  and  weep,  and  beat  their  breasts,  and 
gaze  through  their  tears  on  the  stately  towers  of  Damascus,  and 
the  flowery  banks  of  the  Pharpar. 

Thus  terminated  the  hard-contested  siege  of  Damascus, 
which  Voltaire  has  likened  for  its  stratagems,  skirmishes,  and 
single  combats  to  Homer's  siege  of  Troy.  More  than  twelve 
months  elapsed  between  the  time  the  Saracens  first  pitched 
then-  tents  before  it  and  the  day  of  its  surrender. 


CHAPTER  XL 


STORY  OF  JONAS  AND  EUDOCEA — rURSUIT  OF  THE   EXILES— DEATH 
OF  THE  CALIPH  ABU  BEKER. 

It  is  recorded  that  Derar  gnashed  his  teeth  with  rage  at  see- 
ing the  multitude  of  exiles  departing  in  peace,  laden  with 
treasures,  which  xie  considered  as  so  much  hard-earned  spoil, 
lost  to  the  faithful ;  but  what  most  incensed  him  was,  that  so 
many  unbelievers  should  escape  the  edge  of  the  scimetar. 
Khaled  woidd  have  been  equally  indignant,  but  that  he  had 
secretly  covenanted  with  himself  to  regain  this  booty.  For 
this  purpose  he  ordered  his  men  to  refresh  themselves  and 
their  horses,  and  be  in  readiness  for  action,  resolving  to  pursue 
the  exiles  when  the  three  days  of  grace  should  have  expired. 

A  dispute  with  Abu  Obeidah  concerning  a  quantity  o.c  grain, 
which  the  latter  claimed  for  the  citizens,  detained  him  one  day 
longer,  and  he  was  about  to  abandon  the  pursnit  as  hopeless, 
when  a  guide  presented  himself  who  knew  all  the  country, 
and  the  shortest  passes  through  the  mountains.  The  story  of 
this  guide  is  worthy  of  notice,  as  illustrating  the  character  of 
these  people  and  these  wars. 

During  the  siege  Derar,  as  has  been  related,  was  appointed 
to  patrol  round  the  city  and  the  camp  with  two  thousand 
horse.  As  a  party  of  these  were  one  night  going  their  rounds, 
near  the  walls,  they  heard  the  distant  neighing  of  a  horse,  and 
looking  narrowly  round,  descried  a  horseman  coming  stealthily 
from  the  gate  Keisan.  Halting  in  a  shadowy  place,  they  Avaited 
until  he  came  close  to  them,  when,  rushing  forth,  they  made 
him  prisoner.  He  was  a  youthful  Syrian,  richly  and  gallantly 
arrayed,  and  apparently  a  person  of  distinction.     Scarcely  had 


268  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

they  seized  hirn  when  they  beheld  another  horseman  issuing 
from  the  same  gate,  who  in  a  soft  voice  called  upon  their  cap- 
tive, by  the  name  of  Jonas.  They  commanded  the  latter  to 
invite  his  companion  to  advance.  He  seemed  to  reply,  and 
called  out  something  in  Greek:  upon  hearing  which  the  other 
turned  bridle  and  galloped  back  into  the  city.  The  Arabs,  igno- 
rant of  Greek,  and  suspecting  the  words  to  be  a  warning,  would 
have  slain  their  prisoner  on  the  spot ;  but,  upon  second  thoughts, 
conducted  him  to  Khaled . 

The  youth  avowed  himself  a  nobleman  of  Damascus,  and 
betrothed  to  a  beautiful  maiden  named  Eudocea ;  but  her  par- 
ents, from  some  capricious  reason,  had  withdrawn  their  con- 
sent to  his  nuptials ;  whereupon  the  lovers  had  secretly  agreed 
to  fly  from  Damascus.  A  sum  of  gold  had  bribed  the  sentinels 
who  kept  watch  that  night  at  the  gate.  The  damsel,  disguised 
in  male  attire,  and  accompanied  by  two  domestics,  was  follow- 
ing her  lover  at  a  distance,  as  he  sallied  in  advance.  His  reply 
in  Greek  when  she  called  upon  him  was,  "  The  bird  is  caught!" 
a  warning  at  the  hearing  of  which  she  had  fled  back  to  the 
city. 

Khaled  was  not  the  man  to  be  moved  by  a  love  tale ;  but  he 
gave  the  prisoner  his  alternative.  "  Embrace  the  faith  of 
Islam,"  said  he,  "and  when  Damascus  falls  into  our  power, 
you  shall  have  your  betrothed ;  refuse,  and  your  head  is  for- 
feit," 

The  youth  paused  not  between  a  scimetar  and  a  bride.  He 
made  immediate  profession  of  faith  between  the  hands  of  Khaled, 
and  thenceforth  fought  zealously  for  the  capture  of  the  city, 
since  its  downfall  Avas  to  crown  his  hopes. 

When  Damascus  yielded  to  its  foes,  he  sought  the  dwelling 
of  Eudocea,  and  learnt  a  new  proof  of  her  affection.  Supposing, 
on  his  capture  by  the  Arabs,  that  he  had  fallen  a  martyr  to 
his  faith,  she  had  renounced  the  world,  and  shut  herself  up  in 
a  convent.  "With  throbbing  heart  he  hastened  to  the  convent, 
but  when  the  lofty-minded  maiden  beheld  in  him  a  renegade, 
she  turned  from  him  with  scorn,  retired  to  her  cell,  and  refused 
to  see  him  more.  She  was  among  the  noble  ladies  who  followed 
Thomas  and  Herbis  into  exile.  Her.  lover,  frantic  at  the 
thoughts  of  losing  her,  reminded  Khaled  of  bis  promise  to  re- 
store her  to  him,  and  entreated  that  she  might  be  detained ;  but 
Khaled  pleaded  the  covenant  of  Abu  Obeidah,  according  to 
which  all  had  free  leave  to  depait. 

When  Jonas  afterward  discovered  that  Khaled  meditated  a 


MAUOMET  AND  Ills  SUCCESSORS.  269 

pursuit  of  the  exiles,  but  was  discouraged  by  the  lapse  of  time, 
he  offered  to  conduct  him  by  short  and  secret  passes  through 
the  mountains,  which  would  insure  his  overtaking  them.  His 
offer  was  accepted.  On  the  fourth  day  after  the  departure  of 
the  exiles,  Khaled  set  out  in  pursuit,  with  four  thousand  chosen 
horsemen;  who,  by  the  advice  of  Jonas,  were  disguised  as 
Christian  Arabs.  For  some  time  they  traced  the  exiles  along 
the  plains,  by  the  numerous  footprints  of  mules  and  camels, 
and  by  articles  thrown  away  to  enable  them  to  travel  more 
expeditiously.  At  length  the  footprints  turned  toward  the 
mountains  of  Lebanon,  and  were  lost  in  their  arid  and  rocky 
denies.  The  Moslems  began  to  falter.  ''Courage!''  cried 
Jonas,  "they  will  be  entangled  among  the  mountains.  They 
cannot  now  escape." 

They  continued  their  weary  course,  stopping  only  at  the 
stated  hours  of  prayer.  They  had  now  to  climb  the  high  and 
cragged  passes  of  Lebanon,  along  rifts  and  glens  worn  by 
winter  torrents.  The  horses  struck  fire  at  every  tramp ;  they 
cast  their  sboes,  their  hoofs  were  battered  on  the  rocks,  and 
many  of  them  were  lamed  and  disabled.  The  horsemen  dis- 
mounted and  scrambled  up  on  foot,  leading  their  weary  and 
crippled  steeds.  Their  clothes  were  worn  to  shreds,  and  the 
poles  of  their  iron-shod  boots  wore  torn  from  the  upper  leathers. 
The  men  murmured  and  repined;  never  in  all  their  marches 
had  they  experienced  such  hardships;  they  insisted  on  halting, 
to  rest  and  to  bait  their  horses.  Even  Khaled,  whose  hatred 
of  infidels  furnished  an  impulse  almost  equal  to  the  lover's  pas- 
sion, began  to  flag,  and  reproached  the  renegade  as  the  cause 
of  all  this  trouble. 

Jonas  still  urged  them  forward:  he  pointed  to  fresh  foot- 
prints and  tracks  of  horses  that  must  have  recently  passed. 
After  a  few  hours'  refreshment  they  resumed  the  pursuit; 
passing  within  sight  of  Jabalah  and  Laodicea,  but  without  ven- 
turing within  their  gates,  lest  the  disguise  of  Christian  Arabs, 
which  deceived  the  simple  peasantry,  might  not  avail  with  the 
shrewder  inhabitants  of  the  towns. 

Intelligence  received  from  a  country  boor  increased  their 
perplexity.  The  emperor  Heraciius,  fearing  that  the  arrival  of 
the  exiles  might  cause  a  panic  at  Antioch,  had  sent  orders  for 
them  to  proceed  along  the  sea-coast  to  Constantinople.  This 
gave  their  pursuers  a  greater  chance  to  overtake  them ;  but 
Khaled  was  startled  at  learning,  in  addition,  that  troops  were 
assembling  to  be  sent  against  him,  and  that  but  a  single  moim- 


2?0  MAHOMET  AND  UTS  SUCCESSORS. 

tain  separated  him  from  them.  He  now  feared  Lhey  might 
intercept  his  return,  or  fall  upon  Damascus  in  his  absence.  A 
sinister  dream  added  to  his  uneasiness,  hut  it  was  favorably  in- 
terpreted by  Abda'lrahman,  and  he  continued  the  pursuit, 

A  tempestuous  night  closed  on  them :  the  rain  fell  in  torrents, 
and  man  and  beast  were  ready  to  sink  with  fatigue;  still  they 
were  urged  forward ;  the  fugitives  could  not  be  far  distant,  the 
enemy  was  at  hand :  they  must  snatch  their  prey  and  retreat. 
1  he  morning  dawned ;  the  storm  cleared  up,  and  the  sun  shone 
brightly  on  the  surrounding  heights.  They  dragged  their  steps 
wearily,  however,  along  the  defdes,  now  swept  by  torrents  or 
filled  with  mire,  until  the  scouts  in  the  advance  gave  joyful 
signal  from  the  mountain  brow.  It  commanded  a  grassy 
meadow,  sprinkled  with  flowers,  and  watered  by  a  running 
stream. 

On  the  borders  of  the  rivulet  was  the  caravan  of  exiles,  repos- 
ing in  the  sunshine  from  the  fatigues  of  the  recent  storm. 
Some  were  sleeping  on  the  grass,  others  were  taking  their  morn- 
ing repast;  while  the  meadow  was  gay  with  embroidered  robes 
and  silks  of  various  dyes  spread  out  to  dry  upon  the  herbage. 
The  weary  Moslems,  worn  out  with  the  horrors  of  the  moun- 
tains, gazed  with  delight  on  the  sweetness  and  freshness  of  the 
meadow ;  but  Khaled  eyed  tbe  caravan  with  an  eager  eye,  and 
the  lover  only  stretched  his  gaze  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  his  be- 
trothed among  the  females  reclining  on  the  margin  of  the 
stream. 

Having  cautiously  reconnoitred  the  caravan  without  being 
perceived,  Khaled  disposed  of  his  band  in  four  squadrons ;  the 
first  commanded  by  Derar,  the  second  by  Rah  Ibn  Omeirah,  the 
third  by  Abda'lrahman,  and  the  fourth  led  by  himself.  He 
gave  orders  that  the  squadrons  should  make  their  appearance 
successively,  one  at  a  time,  to  deceive  the  enemy  as  to  their 
force,  and  that  there  should  be  no  pillaging  until  the  victory 
was  complete. 

Having  offered  up  a  prayer,  he  gave  the  word  to  his  division, 
"In  the  name  of  Allah  and  the  prophet !"  and  led  to  the  attack. 
The  Christians  were  roused  from  their  repose  on  beholding  a 
squadron  rushing  down  from  the  mountain.  They  were  de- 
ceived at  first  by  the  Greek  dresses,  hut  were  soon  aware  of 
the  truth :  though  the  small  number  of  the  enemy  gave  them 
but  little  dread.  Thomas  hastily  marshalled  five  thousand  men 
to  receive  the  shock  of  the  onset,  with  such  weapons  as  had 
been  left  them.     Another  and  another  division  came  hurrying 


MAHOMET  AXD  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  271 

down  from  the  mountain ;  and  the  fight  was  furious  and  well 
contested.  Thomas  and  Khaled  fought  hand  to  hand ;  but  the 
Christian  champion  was  struck  to  the  ground.  Abda*lrahman 
cut  off  his  head,  elevated  it  on  the  spear  of  the  standard  of  the 
cross  which  he  had  taken  at  Damascus,  and  called  upon  the 
Christians  to  behold  the  head  of  then*  leader. 

Rati  Ibn  Omeirah  penetrated  with  his  division  into  the  midst 
of  the  encampment  to  capture  the  women.  They  stood  coura- 
geously on  the  defensive,  hurling  stones  at  their  assailants. 
Among  them  was  a  female  of  matchless  beauty,  dressed  in 
splendid  attire,  with  a  diadem  of  jewels.  It  was  the  reputed 
daughter  of  the  emperor,  the  wife  of  Thomas.  Ran  attempted 
to  seize  her,  but  she  hurled  a  stone  that  struck  his  horse  in  the 
head  and  killed  him.  The  Arab  drew  his  scimetar,  and  would 
have  slain  her,  but  she  cried  for  mercy,  so  he  took  her  prisoner, 
and  gave  her  in  charge  to  a  trusty  follower. 

In  the  midst  of  the  carnage  and  confusion  Jonas  hastened  in 
search  of  his  betrothed.  If  she  had  treated  him  with  disdain 
as  a  renegade,  she  now  regarded  him  with  horror,  as  the  traitor 
who  had  brought  this  destruction  upon  his  unhappy  country- 
men. All  his  entreaties  for  her  to  forgive  and  be  reconciled  to 
him  were  of  no  avail.  She  solemnly  vowed  to  repair  to  Con- 
stantinople and  end  her  days  in  a  convent.  Finding  supplica- 
tion fruitless,  he  seized  her,  and  after  a  violent  struggle,  threw 
her  on  the  ground  and  made  her  prisoner.  She  made  no  fur- 
ther resistance,  but  submitting  to  captivity,  seated  herself 
quietly  on  the  grass.  The  lover  flattered  himself  that  she  ve- 
lented ;  but,  watching  her  opportunity,  she  suddenly  drew  forth 
a  poniard,  plunged  it  in  her  breast,  and  feU  dead  at  his  feet. 

While  this  tragedy  was  performing,  the  general  battle,  or 
rather  carnage,  continued.  Khaled  ranged  the  field  in  quest 
of  Herbis,  but,,  while  fighting  pell-mell  among  a  throng  of 
Christians,  that  commander  came  behind  him  and  dealt  a  blow 
that  severed  his  helmet,  and  would  have  cleft  his  skull  but  for 
the  folds  of  his  turban.  The  sword  of  Herbis  fell  from  his 
hand  with  the  violence  of  the  blow,  and  before  he  coidd  recover 
it  he  was  cut  in  pieces  by  the  followers  of  Khaled.  The  strug- 
gle of  the  unhappy  Christians  was  at  an  end ;  all  were  slain,  or 
taken  prisoners,  except  one,  who  was  permitted  to  depart,  and 
who  bore  the  dismal  tidings  of  the  massacre  to  Constantinople. 

The  renegade  Jonas  was  loud  in  his  lamentations  for  the  loss 
of.  his  betrothed,  but  his  Moslem  comrades  consoled  him  with 
one  of  the  doctrines  of  the  faith  he  had  newly  embraced.     "It 


272  MAHOMET  AM)  JUS  SUCCESSORS, 

was  written  in  the  book  of  fate,"  said  they,  "that  you  should 
never  possess  that  woman ;  but  be  comforted,  Allah  has  doubt- 
less greater  blessings  in  store  for  you;"  and,  in  fact,  Rah"  Ibn 
Omeirah,  out  of  compassion  for  his  distress,  presented  him 
with  the  beautiful  princess  he  had  taken  captive.  Elialed  con- 
sented to  the  gift,  provided  the  emperor  did  not  send  to  ransom 
her. 

There  was  now  no  time  to  be  lost.  In  this  headlong  pursiut 
they  had  penetrated  above  a  hundred  and  fifty  miles  into  the 
heart  of  the  enemy's  country,  and  might  be  cut  off  in  their 
retreat.  "  To  horse  and  away,"  therefore,  was  the  word.  The 
plunder  was  hastily  packed  upon  the  mules,  the  scanty  num- 
ber of  surviving  exiles  were  secured,  and  the  marauding  band 
set  off  on  a  forced  march  for  Damascus.  While  on  their  way, 
they  were  one  day  alarmed  by  a  cloud  of  dust,  through  which 
their  scouts  descried  the  banner  of  the  cross.  They  prepared 
for  a  desperate  conflict.  It  proved,  however,  a  peaceful  mis- 
sion. An  ancient  bishop,  followed  by  a  numerous  train, 
sought  from  Khaled,  in  the  emperor's  name,  the  liberation  of 
his  daughter.  The  haughty  Saracen  released  her  without 
ransom.  "Take  her,"  said  he,  " but  tell  your  master  I  intend 
to  have  him  in  exchange ;  never  will  I  cease  this  war  until  I 
have  wrested  from  him  every  foot  of  territory." 

To  indemnify  the  renegade  for  this  second  deprivation,  a 
large  sum  of  gold  was  given  him,  wherewith  to  buy  a  wife 
from  among  the  captives;  but  he  now  disclaimed  forever  all 
earthly  love,  and,  like  a  devout  Mahometan,  looked  forward 
for  consolation  among  the  black-eyed  Houris  of  paradise.  He 
continued  more  faithful  to  his  new  faith  and  new  companions 
than  he  had  been  to  the  religion  of  his  fathers  and  the  friends 
of  his  infancy ;  and  after  serving  the  Saracens  in  a  variety  of 
ways,  earned  an  undoubted  admission  to  the-  paradise  of  the 
prophet,  being  shot  through  the  breast  at  the  battle  of  Yer- 
mouk. 

Thus  perished  this  apostate,  says  the  Christian  chronicler; 
but  Alwakedi,  the  venerable  Cadi  of  Bagdad,  adds  a  supple- 
ment to  the  story,  for  the  encom-agement  of  all  proselytes  to 
the  Islam  faith.  He  states  that  Jonas,  after  his  death,  was 
seen  in  a  vision  by  Rafi  Ibn  Omeirah,  arrayed  in  rich  robes 
and  golden  sandals,  and  walking  in  a  flowery  mead ;  and  the 
beatified  renegade  assured  him  that,  for  his  exemplary  ser- 
vices, Allah  had  given  him  seventy  of  the  black-eyed  damsels 
of  paradise,  each  of  resplendent  beauty,  sufficient  to  throw  the 


MAHOMET  AM)  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  273 

sun  and  moon  in  the  shade.  Ran  related  his  vision  to  Khaled, 
who  heard  it  with  implicit  faith.  ' '  This  it  is, "  said  that  Moslem 
zealot,  ' '  to  die  a  martyr  to  the  faith.  Happy  the  man  to 
whose  lot  it  falls  !"* 

Khaled  succeeded  in  leading  his  adventurous  hand  safely 
back  to  Damascus,  where  they  were  joyfully  received  by  their 
companions  in  arms,  who  had  entertained  great  fears  for  their 
safety.  He  now  divided  the  rich  spoils  taken  in  his  expedi- 
tion; four  parts  were  given  to  the  officers  and  soldiers,  a  fifth 
he  reserved  for  the  public  treasury,  and  sent  it  off  to  the 
Caliph,  with  letters  informing  him  of  the  capture  of  Damascus ; 
of  his  disputes  with  Abu  Obeidah  as  to  the  treatment  of  the 
city  and  its  inhabitants,  and  lastly  of  his  expedition  in  pursuit 
of  the  exiles,  and  his  recovery  of  the  wealth  they  were  bearing 
away.  These  missives  were  sent  in  the  confident  expectation 
that  his  policy  of  the  sword  would  far  outshine,  in  the  estima- 
tion of  the  Caliph,  and  of  all  true  Moslems,  the  more  peacefid 
policy  of  Abu  Obeidah. 

It  was  written  in  the  book  of  fate,  say  the  Arabian  histo- 
rians, that  the  pious  Abu  Beker  should  die  without  hearing  of 
the  brightest  triumph  of  the  Islam  faith;  the  very  day  that 
Damascus  surrendered,  the  Caliph  breathed  his  last  at  Medina. 
Arabian  authors  differ  as  to  the  cause  of  his  death.  Abuifeda 
asserts  that  he  was  poisoned  by  the  Jews,  in  his  frugal  repast 
of  rice ;  but  his  daughter  Ayesha,  with  more  probability,  as- 
cribes his  death  to  bathing  on  an  unusually  cold  day,  which 
threw  him  into  a  fever.  While  struggling  with  his  malady, 
he  directed  his  chosen  friend  Omar  to  perform  the  religious 
functions  of  his  office  in  his  stead. 

Feeling  his  end  approaching,  he  summoned  his  secretary, 
Othman  Ibn  Affan,  and  in  presence  of  several  of  the  principal 
Moslems,  dictated  as  follows:  "I,  Abu  Beker  Ibn  Abu  Kahafa, 
being  on  the  point  of  leaving  this  world  for  the  next,  and  at 
that  moment  when  infidels  believe,  when  the  wicked  cease  to 
doubt,  and  when  liars  speak  the  truth,  do  make  this  declara- 
tion of  my  will  to  the  Moslems.  I  nominate  as  my  successor1' 
— Here  he  was  overtaken  with  faintness  so  that  he  could  not 
speak.  Othman,  who  knew  his  intentions,  added  the  name  of 
Omar  Ibn  al  Khattab.     When  Abu  Beker  came  to  himself,  and 


*  The  story  of  Jonas  and  Eudocea  has  been  made  the  subject  of  an  English 
tragedy  by  Hughes,  entitled  The  Siege  of  Damascus;  but  the  lover's  name  is 
changed  to  Phoeyas,  the  incidents  are  altered,  and  the  catastrophe  is  made  entirely 
different. 


274  MAHOMET  AND  BIS  SUCCESSORS. 

saw  what  his  secretary  had  written,  "God  bless  thee,"  said 
he,  "for  this  foresight !"  He  then  continued  to  dictate.  " Lis- 
ten to  him,  and  obey  him,  for,  as  far  as  I  know  him,  and  have 
seen  him,  he  is  integrity  itself.  He  is  competent  to  every- 
thing he  undertakes.  He  will  rule  with  justice;  if  not,  God, 
who  knows  all  secrets,  will  reward  him  according  to  his 
works.  I  mean  all  for  the  best,  but  I  cannot  see  into  the 
hidden  thoughts  of  men.  Farewell.  Act  uprightly,  and  the 
blessing  of  Allah  be  upon  you." 

He  ordered  this  testament  to  be  sealed  with  his  seal,  and 
copies  of  it  to  be  sent  to  the  principal  authorities,  civil  and 
military.  Then,  having  sent  for  Omar,  he  told  him  of  his 
having  nominated  him  as  his  successor. 

Omar  was  a  stern  and  simple-minded  man ;  unambitious  of 
posts  and  dignities.  "Oh,  successor  to  the  apostle  of  God!" 
said  he ;  "  spare  me  from  this  burden.  I  have  no  need  of  the 
Caliphat."  "But  the  Caliphat  has  need  of  you!"  replied  the 
dying  Abu  Beker. 

He  went  on  to  claim  his  acceptance  of  the  office  as  a  proof 
of  friendship  to  himself,  and  of  devotion  to  the  public  good,  for 
he  considered  him  eminently  calculated  to  maintain  an  undi- 
vided rule  over  the  restless  people  so  newly  congregated  into 
an  empire.  Having  brought  him  to  accept,  he  gave  him  much 
dying  counsel,  and  after  he  had  retired,  prayed  fervently  for 
his  success,  and  that  the  dominion  of  the  faith  might  be 
strengthened  and  extended  during  his  reign.  Having  thus 
provided  for  a  quiet  succession  to  his  office,  the  good  Caliph 
expired  in  the  arms  of  his  daughter  Ayesha,  in  the  sixty -fourth 
year  of  his  age,  having  reigned  two  years,  three  months,  and 
nine  days.  At  the  time  of  his  death  his  father  and  mother 
were  still  living,  the  former  ninety-seven  years  of  age.  When 
the  ancient  Moslem  hoard  of  the  death  of  his  son,  he  merely 
said,  in  scriptural  phrase,  "The  Lord  hath  given,  and  the 
Lord  hath  taken  away.     Blessed  be  the  nama  of  the  Lord  I" 

Abu  Beker  had  four  wives ;  the  last  had  been  the  widow  of 
Jaafar,  who  fell  in  the  battle  of  Muta.  She  bore  him  two  sons 
after  his  sixtieth  year.  He  does  not  appear,  however,  to  have 
had  the  same  fondness  for  the  sex  as  the  prophet,  notwith- 
standing his  experience  in  wedlock.  "The  women,"  he  used 
to  say,  ' '  are  all  an  evil ;  but  the  greatest  evil  of  all  is,  that  they 
arc  necessary." 

Abu  Beker  was  universally  lamented  by  his  subjects,  and  ho . 
deserved  their  lamentations,  for  he  had  been  an  excellent  ruler. 


MAHOMET  AND  BIS  SUCCESSORS.  275 

just,  moderate,  temperate,  frugal,  and  disinterested.  His 
reign  was  too  short  to  enable  him  to  carry  out  any  extensive 
schemes ;  but  it  was  signalized  by  the  promptness  and  ability 
with  which,  through  the  aid  of  the  sword,  he  quelled  the  wide- 
spreading  insurrections  on  the  death  of  the  prophet,  and  pre- 
served the  scarcely  launched  empire  of  Islam  from  perfect  ship- 
wreck:. He  left  behind  him  a  name  dear  to  all  true  Moslems, 
and  an  example  which,  Omar  used  to  say,  would  be  a  difficult 
pattern  for  his  successors  to  imitate. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


ELECTION  OF  OMAR,  SECOND  CALIPH — KHALED  SUPERSEDED  IN 
COMMAND  BY  ABU  OBEIDAH— MAGNANIMOUS  CONDUCT  OF  THOSE 
GENERxiLS — EXPEDITION  TO  THE  CONVENT  OF  ABYLA. 

The  nomination  of  Omar  to  the  succession  was  supported  by 
Ayesha,  and  acquiesced  in  by  Ah,  who  saw  that  opposition 
would  be  ineffectual.  The  election  took  place  on  the  day  of  the 
decease  of  Abu  Beker.  The  character  of  the  new  Caliph  has 
already,  through  his  deeds,  been  made  known  in  some  measure 
to  the  reader ;  yet  a  sketch  of  him  may  not  be  unacceptable. 
He  was  now  about  fifty-three  years  of  age,  a  tali,  dark  man, 
with  a  grave  demeanor  and  a  bald  head.  He  was  so  tall,  says 
one  of  his  biographers,  that  when  he  sat  he  was  higher  than 
those  who  stood.  His  strength  was  uncommon,  and  he  used 
the  left  as  adroitly  as  the  right  hand.  Though  so  bitter  an 
enemy  of  Islamism  at  first  as  to  seek  the  life  of  Mahomet,  he 
became  from  the  moment  of  his  conversion  one  of  its  most  sin- 
cere and  strenuous  champions.  He  had  taken  an  active  part 
in  the  weightiest  and  most  decisive  events  of  the  prophet's  ca- 
reer. His  name  stands  at  the  head  of  the  weapon  companions 
at  Beder,  Ohod,  Khai'bar,  Honein,  and  Tabuc,  at  the  defence  of 
Medina,  and  the  capture  of  Mecca,  and  indeed  he  appears  to 
have  been  the  soul  ot  most  of  the  early  military  enterprises  of 
the  faith.  His  zeal  was  prompt  and  almost  fiery  in  its  opera- 
tions. He  expouuded  and  enforced  the  doctrines  of  Islam  like 
a  soldier;  when  a  question  was  too  knotty  for  his  logic,  he  was 
ready  to  sever  it  with  the  swoi-d,  and  to  strike  off  the  head  of 
him  who  persisted  in  false  areuing  and  unbelief. 

In  the  administration  of  affairs,  his  probity  and  justice  were 


276  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

proverbial.  In  private  life  he  was  noted  for  abstinence  and 
frugality,  and  a  contempt  for  the  false  grandeur  of  the  world. 
Water  was  his  only  beverage.  His  food  a  few  dates,  or  a  few 
bits  of  barley  bread  and  salt;  but  in  time  of  penance  even  salt 
was  retrenched  as  a  luxury.  His  austere  piety  and  self-denial, 
and  the  simplicity  and  almost  poverty  of  his  appearance,  were 
regarded  with  reverence  in  those  primitive  days  of  Islam.  He 
had  shrewd  maxims  on  which  he  squared  his  conduct,  of  which 
the  following  is  a  specimen.  ' '  Four  things  come  not  back :  the 
spoken  word,  the  sped  arrow,  the  past  life,  and  the  neglected 
opportunity. " 

During  his  reign  mosques  were  erected  without  number  for 
the  instruction  and  devotion  of  the  faithful,  and  prisons  for  the 
punishment  of  delinquents.  He  likewise  put  in  use  a  scourge 
with  twisted  thongs  for  the  correction  of  minor  offences,  among 
which  he  included  satire  and  scandal,  and  so  potently  and  ex- 
tensively was  it  plied  that  the  word  went  round,  "Omar's 
twisted  scourge  is  more  to  be  feared  than  his  sword." 

On  assuming  his  efnee  he  was  saluted  as  Caliph  of  the  Caliph 
of  the  apostle  of  God,  in  other  words,  successor  to  the  successor 
of  the  prophet.  Omar  objected,  that  such  a  title  must  lengthen 
with  every  successor,  until  it  became  endless ;  upon  which  it 
was  proposed  and  agreed  that  he  should  receive  the  title  of 
Emir-al-Moumenin,  that  is  to  say,  Commander  of  the  Faithful. 
This  title,  altered  into  Miramamolin,  was  subsequently  borne 
by  such  Moslem  sovereigns  as  held  independent  sway,  ac- 
knowledging no  superior,  and  is  equivalent  to  that  of  emperor. 

One  of  the  first  measures  of  the  new  Caliph  was  with  regard 
to  the  army  in  Syria.  His  sober  judgment  was  not  to  be  daz- 
zled by  daring  and  brilliant  exploits  in  arms,  and  he  doubted 
the  fitness  of  Khaled  for  the  general  command.  He  acknowl- 
edged his  valor  and  military  skill,  but  considered  him  rash, 
fiery,  and  prodigal;  prone  to  hazardous  and  extravagant  ad- 
venture, and  more  fitted  to  be  a  partisan  than  a  leader.  He 
resolved,  therefore,  to  take  the  principal  command  of  the  army 
out  of  such  indiscreet  hands,  and  restore  it  to  Abu  Obeidah, 
who,  he  said,  had  proved  himself  worthy  of  it  by  his  piety, 
modesty,  moderation,  and  good  faith.  He  accordingly  wrote 
on  a  skin  of  parchment,  a  letter  to  Abu  Obeidah,  informing 
him  of  the  death  of  Abu  Beker,  and  his  own  elevation  as  Ca- 
liph, and  appointing  him  commander-in-chief  of  the  army  of 
Syria. 

The  lettGr  was  delivered  to  Abu  Obeidah  at  the  time  that 


MAHOMET  AND   HIS  SUCCESSORS.  277 

Khaled  wal  absent  in  pursuit  of  the  caravan  of  exiles.  The 
good.  Obeidah  was  surprised,  but  sorely  perplexed  by  the  con- 
tents. His  own  modesty  made  him  unambitious  of  high  com- 
mand, and  his  opinion  of  the  signal  valor  and  brilliant  services 
of  Khaled  made  him  loath  to  supersede  him,  and  doubtful 
whether  the  Caliph  would  not  feel  disposed  to  continue  him  as 
commander-in-chief  when  he  should  hear  6i  his  recent  success 
at  Damascus.  He  resolved,  therefore,  to  keep  for  the  present 
the  contents  of  the  Caliph's  letter  to  himself;  and  accordingly 
on  Khaled's  return  to  Damascus  continued  to  treat  him  as 
commander,  and  suffered  him  to  write  his  second  letter  to  Abu 
Beker,  giving  him  an  account  of  his  recent  pursuit  and  plun- 
dering of  the  exiles. 

Omar  had  not  been  long  installed  in  office  when  he  received 
the  first  letters  of  Khaled  announcing  the  capture  of  Damas- 
cus. These  tidings  occasioned  the  most  extravagant  joy  at 
Medina,  and  the  valor  of  Khaied  was  extolled  by  the  multitude 
to  the  very  skies.  In  the  midst  of  their  rejoicings  they  learnt 
with  astonishment  that  the  general  command  had  been  trans- 
ferred to  Abu  Obeidah.  The  admirers  of  Khaled  were  loud  in 
their  expostulations.  "What!"'  cried  they,  "dismiss  Khaled 
when  in  the  full  career  of  victory  ?  Remember  the  reply  of  Abu 
Beker,  when  a  like  measure  was  urged  upon  him.  '  I  will  not 
sheathe  the  sword  of  God  drawn  for  the  promotion  of  the 
faith.'" 

Omar  revolved  their  remonstrances  in  his  mind,  but  his 
resolution  remained  unchanged.  "Abu  Obeidah,"  said  he,  "is 
tender  and  merciful,  yet  brave.  He  will  be  careful  of  his  peo- 
ple, not  lavishing  their  lives  in  rash  adventures  and  plunder- 
ing inroads ;  nor  will  he  be  the  less  formidable  in  battle  for 
being  moderate  when  victorious." 

In  the  mean  time  came  the  second  dispatches  of  Khaled,  ad- 
dressed to  Abu  Beker,  announcing  the  success  of  his  expedi- 
tion in  pursuit  of  the  exiles,  and  requesting  his  decision  of  the 
matters  in  dispute  between  him  and  Abu  Obeidah.  The 
Caliph  was  perplexed  by  this  letter,  which  showed  that  his 
election  as  Caliph  was  yet  unknown  to  the  army,  and  that 
Abu  Obeidah  had  not  assumed  the  command.  He  now  wrote 
again  to  the  latter,  reiterating  his  appointment,  and  deciding 
upon  the  matters  in  dispute.  He  gave  it  as  his  opinion  that 
Damascus  had  surrendered  on  capitulation,  and  had  not  been 
taken  by  the  sword,  and  directed  that  the  stipulations  of  the 
covenant  should  be  fulfilled.     He  declared  the  pursuit  of  the 


278  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

exiles  iniquitous  and  rash,  and  that  it  would  have  proved 
fatal,  but  for  the  mercy  of  God.  The  dismissal  of  the  em- 
peror's daughter  free  of  ransom,  he  termed  a  prodigal  action, 
as  a  large  sum  might  have  been  obtained  and  given  to  the 
poor.  He  counselled  Abu  Obeidah,  of  whose  mild  and  humane 
temper  he  was  well  aware,  not  to  be  too  modest  and  compliant, 
but  at  the  same  time  not  to  risk  the  lives  of  the  faithful  in  the 
mere  hope  of  plunder.  This  latter  hint  was  a  reproof  to 
Khaled. 

Lest  this  letter  should  likewise  be  suppressed  through  the 
modesty  of  Abu  Obeidah,  he  dispatched  it  by  an  officer  of  dis- 
tinction, Shaded  Ibn  Aass,  whom  he  appointed  his  representa- 
tive in  Syria,  with  orders  to  have  the  letter  read  in  presence 
of  the  Moslems,  and  to  cause  him  to  be  proclaimed  Caliph  at 
Damascus. 

Shaded  made  good  his  journey,  and  found  Khalod  in  his 
tent,  still  acting  as  commander-in-chief,  and  the  army  igno- 
rant of  the  death  of  Abu  Beker.  The  tidings  he  brought  struck 
every  one  with  astonishment.  The  first  sentiment  expressed 
was  grief  at  the  death  of  the  good  Abu  Beker,  who  was  uni- 
versally lamented  as  a  father;  the  second  was  surprise  at  the 
deposition  of  Khaled  from  the  command,  in  the  very  midst  of 
such  signal  victories;  and  many  of  his  officers  and  soldiers 
were  loud  in  expressing  their  indignation. 

If  Khaled  had  been  fierce  and  rude  in  his  career  of  triumph, 
he  proved  himself  magnanimous  in  this  moment  of  adversity. 
"I  know,"  said  he,  "that  Omar  does  not  love  me;  but  since 
Abu  Beker  is  dead,  and  has  appointed  him  his  successor,  I  sub- 
mit to  his  commands."  He  accordingly  caused  Omar  to  be 
proclaimed  Caliph  at  Damascus,  and  resigned  his  command 
to  Abu  Obeidah.  The  latter  accepted  it  with  characteristic 
modesty;  but  evinced  a  fear  that  Khaled  would  retire  in  dis- 
gust, and  his  signal  services  be  lost  to  the  cause  of  Islam. 
Khaled,  however,  soon  let  him  know  that  he  was  as  ready  to 
serve  as  to  command,  and  only  required  an  occasion  to  prove 
that  his  zeal  for  the  faith  was  unabated.  His  personal  sub- 
mission extorted  admiration  even  from  his  enemies,  and 
gained  him  the  fullest  deference,  respect,  and  confidence  of 
Abu  Obeidah. 

At  out  this  time  one  of  the  Christian  tributaries,  a  base 
spirited  wretch,  eager  to  ingratiate  himself  with  Abu  Obeidah, 
came  and  informed  him  of  a  fair  object  of  enterprise.     "  At  no 
great  distance  from  this,  between  Tripoli  and  Harran,  there  is 


MAHOMET  AMD  JUS  SUCCESSORS.  279 

a  convent  called  Daiz  Abfi  Kodos,  or  the  monastery  of  the 
Holy  Father,  from  being  inhabited  by  a  Christian  hermit,  so 
eminent  for  wisdom,  piety,  and  mortification  of  the  flesh,  that 
he  is  looked  up  to  as  a  saint;  so  that  young  and  old,  rich  and 
poor,  resort  from  all  parts  to  seek  his  i  dviee  and  blessing,  and 
not  a  marriage  takes  place  among  the  nobles  of  the  country, 
but  the  bride  and  bridegroom  repair  to  receive  from  him  tho 
nuptial  benediction.  At  Easter  there  is  an  annual  fair  held  at 
Abyla  in  front  of  the  convent,  to  which  are  brought  the  rich- 
est manufactures  of  the  surrounding  country;  silken  stuffs, 
jewels  of  gold  and  silver,  and  other  precious  productions  of 
art ;  and  as  the  fair  is  a  peaceful  congregation  of  people  un- 
armed and  unguarded,  it  will  afford  ample  booty  at  little  risk 
or  trouble." 

Abu  Obeidah  announced  the  intelligence  to  his  troops. 
"Who,"  said  he,  "will  undertake  this  enterprise?"  His  eye 
glanced  involuntarily  upon  Khaled ;  it  was  just  such  a  foray 
as  he  was  wont  to  delight  in;  but  Khaled  remained  silent. 
Abu  Obeidah  could  not  ask  a  service  from  one  so  lately  in 
chief  command ;  and  while  he  hesitated,  Abdallah  Ibn  Jaafar, 
stepson  of  Abu  Beker,  came  forward.  A  banner  was  given 
him,  and  five  hundred  veteran  horsemen,  scarred  in  many  a 
battle,  sallied  with  him  from  the  gates  of  Damascus,  guided  by 
the  traitor  Christian.  They  halted  to  rest  before  arriving  at 
Abyla,  and  sent  forward  the  Christian  as  a  scout.  As  he  ap- 
proached the  place  he  was  astonished  to  see  it  crowded  with  an 
immense  concourse  of  Greeks,  Armenians,  Copts,  and  Jews,  in 
their  various  garbs ;  besides  these  there  was  a  grand  proces- 
sion of  nobles  and  courtiers  in  rich  attire,  and  priests  in  re- 
ligious dresses,  with  a  guard  of  five  thousand  horse ;  all,  as  he 
learned,  escorting  the  daughter  of  the  prefect  of  Tripoli,  who 
was  lately  married,  and  had  come  with  her  husband  to  receive 
the  blessing  of  the  venerable  hermit.  The  Christian  scout 
hastened  back  to  the  Moslems,  and  warned  them  to  retreat. 

"  I  dare  not,"  said  Abdallah  promptly ;  "  I  fear  the  wrath  of 
Allah,  should  I  turn  my  back.  I  will  fight  these  infidels. 
Those  who  help  me,  God  will  reward ;  those  whose  hearts  fad 
them  are  welcome  to  retire."  Not  a  Moslem  turned  his  back. 
"  Forward!"  said  Abdallah  to  the  Christian,  and  thou  shaft  be* 
hold  what  the  companions  of  the  prophet  can  perform."  The 
traitor  hesitated,  however,  and  was  with  difficulty  persuaded 
to  guide  them  on  a  service  of  snch  peril. 

Abdallah  led  his  band  near  to  Abyla,-  where  they  lay  close 


ggQ  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

until  morning.  At  the  dawn  of  day,  having  performed  the 
customary  prayer,  he  divided  his  host  into  five  squadrons  of  a 
hundred  each;  they  were  to  charge  at  once  in  five  different 
places,  with  the  shout  of  Allah  Achbar !  and  to  slay  or  capture 
without  stopping  to  pillage  until  the  victory  should  be  com- 
plete. He  then  reconnoitred  the  place.  The  hermit  was 
preaching  in  front  of  his  convent  to  a  multitude  of  auditors ; 
the  fair  teemed  with  people  in  the  variegated  garbs  of  the 
Orient.  One  house  was  guarded  by  a  great  number  of  horse- 
men, and  numbers  of  persons,  richly  clad,  were  going  in  and 
out,  or  standing  about  it.    In  this  house  evidently  was  the 

youthful  bride. 

Abdallah  encouraged  his  followers  to  despise  the  number  of 
these  foes.  "Eemember,"  cried  he,  "  the  words  of  the  pro- 
phet. '  Paradise  is  under  the  shadow  of  swords ! '  If  we  con- 
quer, we  shall  have  glorious  booty ;  if  we  fall,  paradise  awaits 

us!" 

The  five  squadrons  charged  as  they  had  been  ordered,  with 
the  well-known  war-cry.  The  Christians  were  struck  with  dis- 
may, thinking  the  whole  Moslem  army  upon  them.  There  was 
a  direful  confusion;  the  midtitude  flying  in  all  directions; 
women  and  children  shrieking  and  crying;  booths  and  tents 
overturned,  and  precious  merchandise  scattered  about  the 
streets.  The  troops,  however,  seeing  the  inferior  number  of 
the  assailants,  plucked  up  spirits  and  charged  upon  them. 
The  merchants  and  inhabitants  recovered  from  their  panic  and 
flew  to  arms,  and  the  Moslem  band,  hemmed  in  among  such  a 
host  of  foes,  seemed,  say  the  Arabian  writers,  like  a  white 
spot  on  the  hide  of  a  black  camel.  A  Moslem  trooper,  seeing 
the  peril  of  his  companions,  broke  his  way  out  of  the  throng, 
and,  throwing  the  reins  on  the  neck  of  his  steed,  scoured  back 
to  Damascus  for  succor. 

In  this  moment  of  emergency  Abu  Obeidah  forgot  all  scru- 
ples of  delicacy,  and  turned  to  the  man  he  had  superseded  in 
office.  "Fail  us  not,"  cried  he,  "in  this  moment  of  peril; 
but,  for  God's  sake,  hasten  to  deliver  thy  brethren  from  de- 
struction." 

"Had  Omar  given  the  command  of.  the  army  to  a  child.,"  re- 
plied the  gracious  Khaled,  "I  should  have  obeyed  him;  how 
much  more  thee,  my  predecessor  in  the  faith  of  Islam !" 

He  now  arrayed  himself  in  a  coat  of  mail,  the  spoil  of  the 
fnlse  prophet  Mose'dma;  he  put  on  a  helmet  of  proof,  and  over 
it  a  skull-cap,  which  he  called  the  blessed  cap,  and  attributed 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  281 

to  it  wonderful  virtues,  having  received  the  prophet's  benedic- 
tion. Then  springing  on  his  horse,  and  putting  himself  at  the 
head  of  a  chosen  band,  he  scoured  off  toward  Abyla,  with  the 
bold  Derar  at  his  side. 

In  the  mean  time  the  troops  under  Abdallah  had  maintained 
throughout  the  day  a  desperate  conflict ;  heaps  of  the  slain  tes- 
tified their  prowess ;  but  their  ranks  were  sadly  thinned,  scarce 
one  of  the  survivors  but  had  received  repeated  wounds,  and 
they  were  ready  to  sink  under  heat,  fatigue  and  thirst.  To- 
ward sunset  a  cloud  of  dust  is  seen :  is  it  a  reinforcement  of 
their  enemies?  A  troop  Oi  horsemen  emerge.  They  bear  the 
black  eagle  of  Khaled.  The  air  resounds  with  the  shout  of 
Allah  Achbar.  The  Christians  are  assailed  on  either  side; 
some  fly  and  are  pursued  to  the  river  by  the  unsparing  sword 
of  Khaled ;  others  rally  round  the  monastery.  Derar  engages 
hand  to  hand  with  the  prefect  of  Tripoli ;  they  grapple ;  they 
struggle;  they  fall  to  the  earth;  Derar  is  uppermost,  and, 
drawing  a  poniard,  plunges  it  into  the  heart  of  his  adversary. 
He  springs  upon  his  feet ;  vaults  into  the  saddle  of  the  prefect's 
horse,  and,  with  the  shout  of  Allah  Achbar,  gallops  in  quest  of 
new  opponents. 

The  battle  is  over.  The  fair  is  given  up  to  plunder.  Horses, 
mules,  and  asses  are  laden  with  silken  stuffs,  rich  embroidery, 
jewels  of  gold  and  silver,  precious  stones,  spices,  perfumes,  and 
other  wealthy  plunder  of  the  merchants;  but  the  most  precious 
part  of  the  spoil  is  the  beautiful  bride,  with  forty  damsels,  who 
formed  her  bridal  train. 

The  monastery  was  left  desolate,  with  none  but  the  holy  an- 
chorite to  inhabit  it.  Khaled  called  upon  the  old  man,  but  re- 
ceived no  answer ;  he  called  again,  but  the  only  reply  was  to 
invoke  the  vengeance  of  heaven  upon  his  head  for  the  Chris- 
tian blood  he  bad  spilt.  The  fierce  Saracen  paused  as  he  was 
driving  off  the  spoil,  and  laying  his  hand  upon  the  hilt  of  his 
seimetar,  looked  backed  grimly  upon  the  hermit.  "  "What  we 
have  done,"  said  he,  "is  in  obedience  to  the  krw  of  God,  who 
commands  us  to  slay  all  unbelievers ;  and  had  not  the  apostle 
of  God  commanded  us  to  let  such  men  as  thee  alone,  thou 
shouldst  have  shared  the  fate  of  thy  fellow-infidels." 

The  old  man  saw  his  danger  in.  time,  and  discreetly  held  his 
peace,  and  the  sword  of  Islam  remained  within  its  scabbard. 

The  conquerors  bore  their  booty  and  their  captives  back  in 
triumph  to  Damascus.  One  fifth  of  the  spoil  was  set  apart  for 
the  public  treasury :  the  rest  was  distributed  among  the  sol- 


282  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

diery.  Derar,  as  a  trophy  of  his  exploit,  received  the  horse  of 
the  prefect  of  Tripoli,  but  he  made  it  a  present  to  his  Amazo- 
nian sister  Caulah.  The  saddle  and  trappings  were  studded 
with  precious  dtones;  these  she  picked  out  and  distributed 
among  her  female  companions. 

Among  the  spoils  was  a  cloth  curiously  wrought  with  a  like- 
ness of  the  blessed  Saviour ;  which,  from  the  exquisite  workman- 
ship or  the  sanctity  of  the  portrait,  was  afterwards  sold  in 
Arabia  Felix  for  ten  times  its  weight  in  gold. 

Abdallah,  for  his  part  of  the  spoil,  asked  for  the  daughter  of 
the  prelect,  having  been  smitten  with  her  charms.  His  de- 
mand was  referred  to  the  Caliph  Omar  and  granted,  and  the 
captive  beauty  lived  with  him  many  years.  Obeidah,  in  his 
letters  to  the  Caliph,  generously  set  forth  the  magnanimous 
conduct  and  distinguished  prowess  of  Khaled  on  this  occasion, 
and  entreated  Omar  to  write  a  letter  to  that  general  expressive 
of  his  sense  of  his  recent  services,  as  it  might  soothe  the  mortifi- 
cation he  must  experience  from  his  late  deposition.  The  Caliph, 
however,  though  he  replied  to  every  other  part  of  the  letter  of 
Obeidah,  took  no  notice,  either  by  word  or  deed,  of  that  relat- 
ing to  Khaled,  from  which  it  was  evident  that,  in  secret,  he  en- 
tertained no  great  regard  for  the  unsparing  sword  of  Islam, 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


MODERATE     MEASURES     OF     ABU     OBEIDAH  — REPROVED     BY    THE 
CALirH  FOR  HIS  SLOWNESS. 

The  alertness  and  hardihood  of  the  Saracens  in  their  rapid 
campaigns  have  been  attributed  to  their  simple  and.  abstemious 
habits.  They  knew  nothing  of  the  luxuries  of  the  pampered 
Greeks,  and  were  prohibited  the  use  of  wine.  Their  drink  was 
water,  their  food  principally  milk,  rice,  and  the  fruits  of  the 
earth,  and  their  dress  the  coarse  raiments  of  the  desert.  An 
army  of  such  men  was  easily  sustained ;  marched  rapidly  from 
place  to  place ;  and  was  fitted  to  cope  with  the  vicissitudes  of 
war.  The  interval  of  repose,  however,  in  the  luxurious  city 
of  Damascus,  and  the  general  abundance  of  the  fertile  regions 
of  Syria,  began  to  have  their  effect  upon  the  Moslem  troops,  and 
the  good  Abu  Obeidah  was  especially  scandalized  at  discover- 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  2S3 

ing  that  they  were  lapsing  into  the  use  of  wine,  so  strongly 
forbidden  by  the  prophet.  He  mentioned  the  prevalence  of 
this  grievous  sin  in  his  letter  to  the  Caliph,  who  read  it  in  the 
mosque  in  presence  of  his  officers.  "By  Allah,"  exclaimed 
the  abstemious  Omar ;  "these  fellows  are  only  lit  for  poverty 
and  hard  fare;  what  is  to  be  done  with  these  wine-bibbers?" 

"Let  him  who  drinks  wine,"  replied  Ali,  promptly,  "receive 
twenty  bastinadoes  on  the  soles  of  his  feet." 

"  Good,  it  shall  be  so,"  rejoined  the  Caliph;  and  he  wrote  to 
that  effect  to  the  cornmander-in-chief .  On  receiving  the  letter, 
Abu  Obeidah  forthwith  summoned  the  offenders,  and  had  the 
punishment  publicly  inflicted  for  the  edification  of  his  troops ;  he 
took  the  occasion  to  descant  on  the  enormity  of  the  offence,  and 
to  exhort  such  as  had  sinned  in  private  to  come  forward  like 
good  Moslems,  make  public  confession,  and  submit  to  the  bas- 
tinado in  token  of  repentance ;  whereupon  many,  who  had  in- 
dulged in  secret  potations,  moved  by  bis  paternal  exhortation, 
avowed  their  crime  and  their  repentance,  and  were  set  at  ease 
in  their  consciences  by  a  sound  bastinadoing  and  the  forgive- 
ness of  the  good  Abu  Obeidah. 

That  worthy  commander  now  left  a  garrison  of  five  hundred 
horse  at  Damascus,  and  issued  forth  with  his  host  to  prosecute 
the  subjugation  of  Syria.  He  had  a  rich  field  of  enterprise 
before  him.  The  country  of  Syria,  from  the  amenity  of  its 
climate,  tempered  by  the  vicinity  of  the  sea  and  the  moun- 
tains, from  the  fertility  of  its  soil,  and  the  happy  distribution 
of  woods  and  streams,  was  peculiarly  adapted  for  the  vigor- 
ous support  and  prolific  increase  of  animal  life ;  it  accordingly 
teemed  with  population,  and  was  studded  with  ancient  and 
embattled  cities  and  fortresses.  Two  of  the  proudest  and  most 
splendid  of  these  were  Emessa  (the  modern  Hems),  the  capital 
of  the  plains;  and  Baalbec,  the  famous  city  of  the  Sun,  situated 
between  the  mountains  of  Lebanon. 

These  two  cities,  with  others  intermediate,  were  the  objects 
of  Abu  Obeidah's  enterprise,  and  he  sent  Khaled  in  advance, 
with  Derar  and  Ran"  Ibn  Omeirah,  at  the  head  of  a  third  of  the 
army,  to  scour  the  country  about  Emessa.  In  his  own  slower 
march,  with  the  main  body  of  the  army,  he  approached  the 
city  of  Jusheyah,  but  was  met  by  the  governor,  who  purchased 
a  year's  truce  with  the  payment  of  four  hundred  pieces  of  gold 
and  fifty  silken  robes  ;*  and  the  promise  to  surrender  the  city 
at  the  expiration  of  a  year,  if.  in  that  interval  Baalbec  and 
Emessa  should  have  been  taken. 


2S4  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

When  Abu  Obeidah  came  before  Emessa  he  found  Khaled  in 
active  operation.  The  governor  of  the  place  had  died  on  the 
day  on  which  the  Moslem  force  appeared,  and  the  city  was  not 
fully  provisioned  for  a  siege.  The  inhabitants  negotiated  a 
truce  for  one  year  by  the  payment  of  ten  thousand  pieces  of 
gold  and  two  hundred  suits  of  silk,  with  the  engagement  to 
surrender  at  the  end  of  that  term,  provided  he  should  have 
taken  Aleppo,  Alhadir,  and  Kennesrin,  and  defeated  the  army 
of  the  emperor.  Khaled  would  have  persevered  in  the  siege, 
but  Abu  Obeidah  thought  it  the  wisest  policy  to  agree  to 
these  golden  terms,  by  which  he  provided  himself  with  the 
sinews  of  war,  and  was  enabled  to  proceed  more  surely  in  his 
career. 

The  moment  the  treaty  was  concluded  the  people  of  Emessa 
threw  open  their  gates;  held  a  market  or  fair  beneath  the 
walls,  and  began  to  drive  a  lucrative  trade;  for  the  Moslem 
camp  was  full  of  booty,  and  these  marauding  warriors,  flushed 
with  sudden  wealth,  squandered  plunder  of  all  kinds,  and  never 
regarded  the  price  of  anything  that  struck  their  fancy.  In  the 
mean  time  predatory  bands  foraged  the  country  both  far  and 
near,  and  came  in  driving  sheep  and  cattle,  and  horses  and 
camels,  laden  with  household  booty  of  all  kinds,  besides  multi- 
tudes of  captives.  The  piteous  lamentations  of  these  people, 
torn  from  their  peaceful  homes  and  doomed  to  slavery,  touched 
the  heart  of  Abu  Obeidah.  He  told  them  that  all  who  would 
embrace  the  Islam  faith  should  have  their  lives  and  property. 
On  such  as  chose  to  remain  in  infidelity,  he  imposed  a  ransom 
of  five  pieces  of  gold  a  head,  besides  an  annual  tribute ;  caused 
their  names  and  places  of  abode  to  be  registered  in  a  book,  and 
then  gave  them  back  their  property,  their  wives  and  children, 
on  condition  that  they  should  act  as  guides  and  interpreters  to 
the  Moslems  in  case  of  need. 

The  merciful  policy  of  the  good  Abu  Obeidah  promised  to 
promote  the  success  of  Islam,  even  more  potently  than  the 
sword.  The  Syrian  Greeks  came  in,  in  great  numbers,  to  have 
their  names  enregistered  in  the  book  of  tributaries ;  and  other 
cities  capitidated  for  a  year's  truce  on  the  terms  granted  to 
Emessa.  Khaled,  however,  who  was  no  friend  to.  truces  and 
negotiations,  murmured  at  these  peaceful  measures,  and 
offered  to  take  these  cities  in  less  time  than  it  required  to  treat 
with  them ;  but  Abu  Obeidah  was  not  to  be  swerved  from  the 
path  of  moderation ;  thus,  in  a  little  time  the  whole  territories 
of  Emessa,  Alhadir,  and  Kennesrin  were  rendered  sacred  from 


MAHOMET  AND  II  IS  SUCCESSORS.  285 

maraud.  The  predatory  warriors  of  the  desert  were  some- 
what impatient  at  being  thus  hemmed  in  by  prohibited  boun 
daries,  and  on  one  occasion  had  well  nigh  brought  the  truce 
to  an  abrupt  termination.  A  party  of  Saracen  troopers,  in 
prowling  along  the  confines  of  Kennesrin,  came  to  where  the 
Christians,  to  mark  their  boundary,  had  erected  a  statue  of 
the  emperor  Heraclius,  seated  on  his  throne.  The  troopers, 
who  had  a  Moslem  hatred  of  images,  regarded  this  with  de- 
rision, and  amused  themselves  with  careering  round  and  tilt- 
ing at  it,  until  one  of  them,  either  accidentally  or  in  sport, 
struck  out  one  of  the  eyes  with  his  lance. 

The  Greeks  were  indignant  at  this  outrage  Messengers  were 
sent  to  Abu  Obeidah,  loudly  complaining  of  it  as  an  intentional 
breach  of  the  truce,  and  a  flagrant  insult  to  the  emperor.  Abu 
Obeidah  mildly  assured  them  that  it  was  his  disposition  most 
rigorously  to  observe  the  truce ;  that  the  injury  to  the  statue 
must  have  been  accidental,  and  that  no  indignity  to  the 
emperor  could  have  been  intended.  His  moderation  only  in- 
creased the  arrogance  of  the  ambassadors ;  their  emperor  had 
been  insulted ;  it  was  for  the  Caliph  to  give  redress  according 
to  the  measure  of  the  law:  "  An  eye  for  an  eye,  a  tooth  for  a 
tooth."  "What!"  cried  some  of  the  over-zealous  Moslems; 
"do  the  infidels  mean  to  claim  an  eye  from  the  Caliph?"  In 
their  rage  they  would  have  slain  the  messengers  on  the  spot ; 
but  the  quiet  Abu  Obeidah  stayed  their  wrath.  "  They  speak 
but  figuratively,"  said  he  ;  then  taking  the  messengers  aside, 
he  shrewdly  compromised  the  matter,  and  satisfied  their 
wounded  loyalty,  by  agreeing  that  they  should  set  up  a  statue 
of  the  Caliph,  with  glass  eyes,  and  strike  out  one  of  them  in 
retaliation. 

"While  Abu  Obeidah  was  pursuing  this  moderate  course,  and 
subduing  the  country  by  clemency  rather  than  by  force  of 
arms,  missives  came  from  the  Caliph,  who  was  astonished  at 
receiving  no  tidings  of  further  conquests,  reproaching  him 
with  his  slowness,  and  with  preferring  worldly  gain  to  the 
pious  exercise  of  the  sword.  The  soldiers  when  they  heard  of 
the  purport  of  this  letter,  took  the  reproaches  to  themselves, 
and  wept  with  vexation.  Abu  Obeidah  himself  was  stung  to 
the  quick  and  repented  him  of  the  judicious  truces  he  had 
made.  In  the  excitement  of  the  moment  he  held  a  council  of 
war,  and  it  was  determined  to  lose  not  a  day,  although  the 
truces  had  but  about  a  month  to  run.  He  accordingly  left 
Khaled  with  a  strong  force  in  the  vicinity  of  Emessa  to  await 


2S6  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

the  expiration  of  the  truce,  while  he  marched  with  the  main 
host  against  the  city  of  Baalbec. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

SIEGE  AND   CAPTURE  OF  BAALBEC. 

Baalbec,  so  called  from  Baal,  the  Syrian  appellation  of  the 
sun,  or  Apollo,  to  which  deity  it  was  dedicated,  was  one  of 
the  proudest  cities  of  ancient  Syria.  It  was  the  metropolis  of 
the  great  and  fertile  valley  of  Bekaa,  lying  between  the  moun- 
tains of  Lebanon,  and  anti-Lebanon.  During  the  Grecian 
domination  it  was  called  Heliopolis,  which  likewise  means  the 
City  of  the  Sun.  It  was  famous  for  its  magnificent  temple  of 
Baal,  which,  tradition  affirms,  was  built  by  Solomon  the  Wise, 
to  please  one  of  his  wives,  a  native  of  Sidon  and  a  worshipper 
of  the  Sun.  The  immense  blocks  of  stone  of  which  it  was 
constructed  were  said  to  have  been  brought  by  the  genii,  over 
whom  Solomon  had  control  by  virtue  of  his  talismanic  seal. 
Some  of  them  remain  to  this  day  objects  of  admiration  to  the 
traveller,  and  perplexity  to  the  modern  engineer.* 

On  his  march  against  Baalbec  Abu  Obeidah  intercepted  a 
caravan  of  four  hundred  camels  laden  with  silk  and  sugars, 
on  the  way  to  that  city.  With  his  usual  clemency  he  allowed 
the  captives  to  ransom  themselves ;  some  of  whom  carried  to 
Baalbec  the  news  of  his  approach,  and  of  the  capture  of  the 
caravan.  Herbis,  the  governor,  supposing,  the  Saracens  to  be 
a  mere  marauding  party,  sallied  forth  with  six  thousand  horse 
and  a  multitude  of  irregular  foot,  in  hope  to  recover  the  spoils, 
but  found  to  his  cost  that  he  had  an  army  to  contend  with, 
and  was  driven  back  to  the  city  with  great  loss,  after  receiv- 
ing seven  wounds. 

Abu  Obeidah  set  himself  down  before  the  city,  and  ad- 
dressed a  letter  to  the  inhabitants,  reminding  them  of  the 
invincible  arms  of  the  faithful,  and  inviting  them  to  profess 
Islamism,  or  pay  tribute.  This  letter^he  gave  in  charge  to  a 
Syrian  peasant;  and  with  it  a  reward  of  twenty  pieces  of 
silver;    "for  Allah  forbid,"  said    the  conscientious  general, 


*  Among  these  huge  blocks  some  measure  fifty-eight,  and  one  sixty-nine  feet  in 
length. 


M AIIO MET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  287 

"that  I  should  employ  thee  without  pay.      The  laborer  is 
worthy  of  his  hire." 

The  messenger  was  drawn  up  by  a  cord  to  the  battlements, 
and  delivered  the  letter  to  the  inhabitants,  many  of  whom,  on 
hearing  the  contents,  were  inclined  to  surrender.  Herbis,  the 
governor,  however,  who  was  still  smarting  with  his  wounds, 
tore  the  letter  in  pieces,  and  dismissed  the  messenger  without 
deigning  a  reply. 

Abu  Obeidah  now  ordered  his  troops  to  the  assaidt,  but  the 
garrison  made  brave  defence,  and  did  such  execution  with 
their  engines  from  the  walls,  that  the  Saracens  were  repulsed 
with  considerable  loss.  The  weather  was  cold;  so  Abu 
Obeidah,  who  was  ever  mindful  of  the  welfare  of  his  men. 
sent  a  trumpeter  round  the  camp  next  morning,  forbidding 
any  man  to  take  the  field  until  he  had  made  a  comfortable 
meal.  All  were  now  busy  cooking,  when,  in  the  midst  of  their 
preparations,  the  city  gates  were  thrown  open,  and  the  Greeks 
came  scouring  upon  them,  making  great  slaughter.  They 
were  repulsed  with  some  difficulty,  but  carried  off  prisoners 
and  plunder. 

Abu  Obeidah  now  removed  his  camp  out  of  reach  of  the 
engines,  and  where  his  cavalry  would  have  more  room. 
He  threw  out  detachments  also,  to  distract  the  attention 
of  the  enemy  and  oblige  them  to  fight  in  several  places. 
Saad  Ibn  Zeid,  with  five  hundred  horse  and  three  hundred 
foot,  was  to  show  himself  in  the  valley  opposite  the  gate  look- 
ing toward  the  mountains;  while  Derar,  with  three  hundred 
horse  and  two  hundred  foot,  was  stationed  in  front  of  the  gate 
on  the  side  toward  Damascus. 

Herbis,  the  governor,  seeing  the  Saracens  move  back  their 
tents,  supposed  them  to  be  intimidated  by  their  late  loss. 
"These  Arabs,"  said  he,  "are  half -naked  vagabonds  of  the 
desert,  who  fight  without  object;  we  are  locked  up  in  steel, 
and  fight  for  our  wives  and  children,  our  property  and  our 
lives."  He  accordingly  roused  his  troops  to  make  another 
sally,  and  an  obstinate  battle  ensued.  One  of  the  Moslem 
officers,  Sohail  Ibn  Sabah,  being  disabled  by  a  sabre  cut  in 
the  right  arm,  alighted  from  his  horse,  and  clambered  a 
neighboring  hill  which  overlooked  the  field,  the  city,  and  its 
vicinity.  Here  he  sat  watching  the  various  fortunes  of  the 
field.  The  sally  had  been  made  through  the  gate  before  which 
Abu  Obeidah  was  posted,  who  of  course  received  the  whole 
brunt  of  the  attack.     The  battle  was  hot,  and  Sohail  perceived 


2SS  MAHOMET  AMD  J11S  SUCCESSORS. 

from  his  hill  that  the  Moslems  in  this  quarter  were  hard 
pressed,  and  that  the  general  was  giving  ground,  and  in 
imminent  danger  of  being  routed;  while  Derar  and  Saad  re- 
mained inactive  at  their  distant  posts-,  no  sally  having  been 
made  from  the  gates  before  which  they  were  stationed.  Upon 
this  Sohail  gathered  together  some  green  branches,  and  set 
fire  to  them,  so  as  to  make  a  column  of  smoke ;  a  customary 
signal  by  day  among  the  Arabs,  as  fire  was  by  night.  Derar 
and  Saad  beheld  the  smoke  and  galloped  with  their  troops  in 
that  direction.  Their  arrival  changed  the  whole  fortune  of 
the  field.  Herbis,  who  had  thoiight  himself  on  the  eve  of 
victory,  now  found  bimself  beset  on  each  side  and  cut  off  from 
the  city!  Nothing  but  strict  discipline  and  the  impenetrable 
Gi'ecian  phalanx  saved  him.  His  men  closed  shield  to  shield, 
their  lances  in  advance,  and  made  a  slow  and  defensive  retreat, 
the  Moslems  wheeling  around  and  charging  incessantly  upon 
them.  Abu  Obeidah,  who  knew  nothing  of  the  arrival  of 
Derar  and  Saad,  imagined  the  retreat  of  the  Christians  a  mere 
feint,  and  called  back  his  troops ;  Saad,  however,  who  heard 
not  the  general's  order,  kept  on  in  pursuit,  until  he  drove  the 
enemy  to  the  top  of  a  hill,  where  they  ensconced  themselves 
in  an  old  deserted  monastery. 

When  Abu  Obeidah  learned  the  secret  of  this  most  timely 
aid,  and  that  it  was  in  consequence  of  a  supposed  signal  from, 
him,  he  acknowledged  that  the  smoke  was  an  apt  thought,  and 
saved  his  camp  from  being  sacked ;  but  he  prohibited  any  man 
from  repeating  such  an  act  without  orders  from  the  general. 

In  the  mean  time  Herbis,  the  governor,  finding  the  small 
number  that  invested  the  convent,  sallied  forth  with  his 
troops,  in  hopes  of  cutting  his  way  to  the  city.  Never  did 
men  fight  more  valiantly,  and  they  had  already  made  great 
havoc,  when  the  arrival  of  a  fresh  swarm  of  Moslems  drove 
them  back  to  their  forlorn  fortress,  where  they  were  so  closely 
watched  that  not  a  Grecian  eye  could  peer  from  the  old  walls 
without  being  the  aim  of  a  Moslem  arrow. 

Abu  Obeidah  now  invested  the  city  more  closely  than  ever, 
leaving  Saad,  with  his  forces,  to  keep  the  governor  encaged  in 
the  monastery.  The  latter  perceived- it  would  be  impossible 
to  hold  out  longer  in  this  shattered  edifice,  destitute  of  pro- 
visions. His  proud  spirit  was  completely  broken,  and,  throw- 
ing off  Ms  silken  robes,  and  clothing  him  in  a  worn  woollen 
garb,  as  suited  to  his  humble  situation,  he  sought  a  conference 
with  Saad  to  treat  on  terms  of  capitulation.     The  Moslem 


MAHOMET  A XI)  UTS  SUCCESSORS.  2S9 

captain  replied  that  ho  could  only  treat  for  the  party  in  the 
convent,  whom  he  would  receive  as  brothers,  if  they  would 
acknowledge  God  and  the  prophet,  or  would  let  them  free  on 
the  pledge  not  to  bear  arms  against  the  Moslems.  He  prof- 
fered to  lead  Herbis  to  the  general,  if  he  wished  to  treat  for 
the  city  also;  and  added  that,  should  the  negotiation  fail,  he 
and  his  Greeks  might  return  into  their  convent,  and  let  God 
and  the  sword  decide. 

Herbis  was  accordingly  led  through  the  besieging  camp  into 
the  presence  of  Abu  Obeidah,  and  gnawed  his  lip  when  he  saw 
the  inconsiderable  number  of  the  Moslem  host.  He  offered,  as 
a  ransom  for  the  city_.  one  thousand  ounces  of  gold,  two  thou- 
sand of  silver,  and  one  thousand  silken  robes ;  but  Abu  Obei- 
dah demanded  that  he  should  double  the  amount,  and  add 
thereto  one  thousand  sabres,  and  all  the  arms  of  the  soldiers 
in  the  monastery ;  as  well  as  engage  in  behalf  of  the  city  to. 
pay  an  annual  tribute ;  to  engage  to  erect  no  more  Christian 
churches,  nor  ever  more  act  in  hostility  against  the  Moslem 
power. 

These  harsh  terms  being  conceded,  Herbis  was  permitted  to 
enter  the  city  alone,  and  submit  them  to  the  inhabitants,  all 
his  attendants  being  detained  as  hostages.  The  townsmen  at 
first  refused  to  capitulate,  sajdng  their  city  was  the  strongest 
in  all  Syria;  but  Herbis  offered  to  pay  down  one  fourth  of  the 
ransom  himself,  and  they  at  length  complied.  One  point  was 
conceded  to  the  people  of  Baalbec  to  soothe  their  wounded 
pride.  It  was  agreed  that  Rati  Ibn  Abdallah,  who  was  to 
remain  with  five  hundred  men,  acting  as  lieutenant  of  Baalbec 
for  Abu  Obeidah,  should  encamp  "without  the  walls,  and  not 
enter  the  city.  These  matters  being  arranged,  Abu  Obeidah 
marched  with  his  host  on  other  enterprises. 

The  Saracen  troops,  under  Rati  Ibn  Abdallah,  soon  ingrati- 
ated themselves  with  the  people  of  Baalbec.  They  pillaged  the 
surrounding  country,  and  sold  their  booty  for  low  prices  to  the 
townsfolk,  who  thus  grew  wealthy  on  the  spoils  of  their  own 
countrymen.  Herbis,  the  governor,  felt  a  desire  to  participate 
in  these  profits.  He  reminded  his  fellow-citizens  how  much 
he  had  paid  for  their  ransom,  and  what  good  terms  he  had 
effected  for  them ;  and  then  proposed  that  he  should  have  one 
tenth  of  what  they  gained  in  traffic  with  the  Moslems  to  reim- 
burse him.  They  consented,  though  with  extreme  reluctance. 
In  a  few  days  he  found  the  gain  so  sweet  that  he  thirsted  for 
more;  he  therefore  told  them  that  his  reimbursement  would 


290  MAHOMET  AND  II JS  SUCCESSORS. 

be  tedious  at  this  rate,  and  proposed  to  receive  one  fourth. 
The  people,  enraged  at  his  cupidity,  rushed  on  him  with  furi- 
ous outcries,  and  killed  him  on  the  spot.  The  noise  of  tho 
tumult  reached  the  camp  of  Ran  Ibn  Abdallah,  and  a  deputa- 
tion of  the  inhabitants  coming  forth,  entreated  him  to  enter 
the  city  and  govern  it  himself.  He  scrupled  to  depart  from 
the  terms  of  the  treaty  until  he  had  written  to  Abu  Obeidah ; 
but  on  receiving  permission  from  the  general,  he  entered  and 
took  command.  Thus  did  the  famous  Baalbec,  the  ancient 
Heliopolis,  or  City  of  the  Sun,  fall  under  the  Saracen  sway  on 
the  20th  of  January,  a.d.  GDG,  being  the  fifteenth  year  of  the 
Hegira. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


SIEGE   OF  EMESSA— STRATAGEMS   OF  THE    MOSLEMS— FANATIC  DE- 
VOTION  OF   IKREMAH — SURRENDER  OF. THE  CITY. 

The  year's  truce  with  the  city  of  Emessa  having  now 
expired,  Abu  Obeidah  appeared  before  that  place,  and  sum- 
moned it  in  the  following  form : 

"In  the  name  of  the  most  merciful  God.  Abu  Obeidah  Ibn 
Aljerah,  general  of  the  armies  of  the  Commander  of  the  Faith- 
ful, Omar  al  Khattab,  to  the  people  of  Emessa.  Let  not  the 
loftiness  of  your  walls,  the  strength  of  your  bulwarks,  nor 
the  robustness  of  your  bodies,  lead  you  into  error.  Allah  hath 
conquered  stronger  places  through  the  means  of  his  servants. 
Your  city  would  be  of  no  more  consideration  against  us  than 
a  kettle  of  pottage  set  in  the  midst  of  our  camp. 

"I  invite  you  to  embrace  our  holy  faith,  and  the  law  re- 
vealed to  our  prophet  Mahomet;  and  we  will  send  pious  men 
to  instruct  you,  and  you  shall  participate  in  all  our  fortunes. 

"  If  you  refuse,  you  shall  still  be  left  in  possession  of  ail  yoiu- 
property  on  the  payment  of  annual  tribute.  If  you  reject 
both  conditions,  come  forth  from  behind  your  stone  walls,  and 
let  Allah,  the  supreme  judge,  decide  between  us." 

This  summons  was  treated  with  scorn;  and  the  garrison 
made  a  bold  sally,  and  handled  their  besiegers  so  roughly  that 
they  were  glad  when  night  put  an  end  to  the  conflict.  In  the 
evening  a  crafty  old  Arab  sought  the  tent  of  Abu  Obeidah ;  he 
represented  the  strength  of  the  place,  the  intrepidity  of  the 


MAHOMET  AND   HIS  SUCCESSORS.  291 

soldiers,  and  the  ample  stock  of  provisions,  which  would  ena- 
ble it  to  stand  a  weary  siege.  He  suggested  a  stratagem,  how- 
ever, by  which  it  might  be  reduced ;  and  Abu  Obeidah  adopted 
his  counsel.  Sending  a  messenger  into  the  city,  he  offered  to 
the  inhabitants  to  strike  his  tents,  and  lead  his  troops  to  the 
attack  of  other  places,  provided  they  would  furnish  him  pro- 
visions for  five  days'  march.  His  offer  was  promptly  accepted, 
and  the  provisions  were  furnished.  Abu  Obeidah  now  pre- 
tended that,  as  his  march  would  be  long,  a  greater  supply 
would  be  necessary :  he  continued  to  buy,  therefore,  as  long  as 
the  Christians  had  provisions  to  sell,  and  in  this  manner  ex- 
hausted their  magazines ;  and  as  the  scouts  from  other  cities 
beheld  the  people  of  Emessa  throw  open  their  gates  and  bring 
forth  provisions,  it  became  rumored  throughout  the  country 
that  the  city  had  surrendered. 

Abu  Obeidah,  according  to  promise,  led  Iris  host  against 
other  places.  The  first  was  Arrestan,  a  fortified  city,  well  wat- 
ered, provisioned,  and  garrisoned.  His  summons  being  re- 
peated, and  rejected,  he  requested  the  governor  of  the  place  to 
let  him  leave  there  twenty  chests  of  cumbrous  articles,  which 
impeded  him  in  his  movements.  The  request  was  granted 
with  great  pleasure  at  getting  clear  so  readily  of  such  maraud- 
ers. The  twenty  chests,  secured  with  padlocks,  were  taken 
into  the  citadel,  but  every  chest  had  a  sliding  bottom,  and  con- 
tained an  armed  man.  Among  the  picked  warriors  thus  con- 
cealed were  Derar,  Abda'lrahman,  and  Abdallah  Ibn  Jaaf ar ; 
while  Khaled  with  a  number  of  troops  was  placed  in  ambush 
to  co-operate  with  those  in  the  chests. 

The  Moslem  host  departed.  The  Christians  went  to  church 
to  return  thanks  for  their  deliverance,  and  the  sounds  of  their 
hymns  of  triumph  reached  the  ears  of  Derar  and  his  comrades. 
Upon  this  they  issued  forth  from  their  chests,  seized  the  wife 
of  the  governor,  and  obtained  from  her  the  keys  of  the  gates. 
Abdallah,  with  fourteen  men,  hastened  to  the  church  and 
closed  the  doors  upon  the  congregation;  while  Derar,  with 
four  companions,  threw  open  the  gates  with  the  cry  of  Allah 
Achbar ;  upon  which  Khaled  and  his  forces  rushed  from  their 
ambuscade,  and  the  city  was  taken  almost  without  bloodshed. 

The  city  of  Shaizar  was  next  assailed,  and  capitulated  on 
favorable  terms;  and  now  Abu  Obeidah  returned  before 
Emessa,  and  once  more  summoned  it  to  surrender.  The  gov- 
ernor remonstrated  loudly,  reminding  the  Moslem  general  of 
his  treaty,  by  which  he  engaged  to  depart  from  Emessa  and 


292  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

carry  the  war  against  other  places.  "I  engaged  to  depart/' 
replied  Abu  Obeidah,  ' '  but  I  did  not  engage  not  to  return.  I 
have  carried  the  war  against  other  places,  and  have  subdued 
Arrestan  and  Shaizar." 

The  people  of  Emessa  now  perceived  how  they  had  been  cir- 
cumvented. Their  magazines  had  been  drained  of  provisions, 
and  they  had  not  wherewithal  to  maintain  them  against  a 
siege.  The  governor,  however,  encouraged  them  to  try  the 
chance  of  a  battle  as  before.  They  prepared  for  the  fight  by 
prayers  in  the  churches ;  and  the  governor  took  the  sacrament 
in  the  church  of  St.  George ;  but  he  sought  to  enhearten  him- 
self by  grosser  means,  for  we  are  told  he  ate  the  whole  of  a 
roasted  kid  for  his  supper,  and  caroused  on  wine  until  the 
crowing  of  the  cock.  In  the  morning,  early,  he  arrayed  him- 
self in  rich  apparel,  and  sallied  forth  at  the  head  of  five  thou- 
sand horsemen,  all  men  of  strength  and  courage,  and  well 
armed.  They  charged  the  besiegers  so  bravely,  and  their 
archers  so  galled  them  from  the  walls,  that  the  Moslem  force 
gave  way. 

Khaled  now  threw  himself  in  front  of  the  battle,  and  enacted 
wondrous  feats  to  rally  his  soldiers  and  restore  the  fight.  In 
an  encounter,  hand  to  hand,  with  a  Greek  horseman,  his 
Bcimetar  broke,  and  he  was  weaponless,  but  closing  with  his 
adversary,  he  clasped  him  in  his  arms,  crushed  his  ribs,  and 
drawing  him  from  his  saddle  threw  him  dead  to  the  earth. 
The  imminent  peril  of  the  fight  roused  a  frantic  valor  in  the 
Moslems.  In  the  heat  of  enthusiasm  Ikremah,  a  youthful 
cousin  of  Khaled,  galloped  about  the  field,  fighting  with  reck- 
less fury,  and  raving  about  the  joys  of  paradise  promised  to  all 
true  believers  who  fell  in  the  battles  of  the  faith.  "I  see," 
cried  he,  ''the  black-eyed  Houris  of  Paradise.  One  of  them,  if 
seen  on  earth,  would  make  mankind  die  of  love.  They  are 
smiling  on  us.  One  of  them  waves  a  handkerchief  of  green 
silk  and  holds  a  cup  of  precious  stones.  She  beckons  me; 
come  hither  quickly,  she  cries,  my  well  beloved !"  In  this  way 
he  went,  shouting  AlJennah !  Al  Jean  ah!  Paradise!  Paradise! 
charging  into  the  thickest  of  the  Christians,  and  making  fear- 
ful havoc,  until  he  reached  the  place  where  the  governor  was 
fighting,  who  sent  a  javelin  through  his  heart,  and  dispatched 
him  in  quest  of  his  vaunted  Elysium. 

Nigh":  alone  parted  the  hosts,  and  the  Moslems  retired  ex- 
hausted to  their  terns,  glad  to  repose  from  so  rude  a  fight. 
Even  Khaled  counselled  Abu  Obeidah  to  have  recourse  to 


MAHOMET  AXD  ELS  SUCCESSORS.  293 

stratagem,  and  make  a  pretended  fight  the  next  morning;  to 
draw  the  Greeks,  confident  through  this  day's  success,  into 
disorder :  for  while  collected  their  phalanx  presented  an  im- 
penetrable wall  to  the  Moslem  horsemen. 

Accordingly,  at  the  dawning  of  the  day,  the  Moslems  re- 
treated: at  first  with  a  show  of  order:  then  with  a  feigned 
confusion,  for  it  was  an  Arab  stratagem  of  war  to  scatter  and 
rally  again  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye.  The  Christians,  think- 
ing their  flight  unfeigned,  broke  up  their  steady  phalanx,  some 
making  headlong  pursuit,  while  others  dispersed  to  plunder 
the  Moslem  camp. 

Suddenly  the  Moslems  faced  about,  surrounded  the  confused 
mass  of  Christians,  and  fell  upon  it,  as  the  Arabian  historian 
says,  "like  eagles  upon  a  carcass."  Khaled  and  Derar  and 
other  chiefs  spirited  them  on  with  shouts  of  Allah  Achbar,  and 
a  terrible  rout  and  slaughter  ensued.  The  number  of  Christian 
corpses  on  that  field  exceeded  sixteen  hundred.  The  governor 
was  recognized  among  the  slain  by  his  enormous  bulk,  his 
bloated  face,  and  his  costly  apparel,  fragrant  with  perfumes. 

The  city  of  Emessa  surrendered  as  a  sequel  to  that  fight,  but 
the  Moslems  could  neither  stay  to  take  possession  nor  afford  to 
leave  a  garrison.  Tidings  had  reached  them  of  the  approach 
of  an  immense  army,  composed  of  the  heavily  armed  Grecian 
soldiery  and  the  light  troops  of  the  desert,  that  threatened 
completely  to  overwhelm  them.  Various  and  contradictory 
were  the  counsels  in  this  moment  of  agitation  and  alarm. 
Some  advised  that  they  should  hasten  back  to  their  native 
deserts,  where  they  would  be  reinforced  by  their  friends,  and 
where  the  hostile  army  could  not  find  sustenance;  but  A.bu 
Obeidah  objected  that  such  a  retreat  would  be  attributed  to 
cowardice.  Others  cast  a  wistful  eye  upon  the  stately  dwell- 
ings, the  delightful  gardens,  the  fertile  fields,  and  green 
pastures,  which  they  had  just  won  by  the  sword,  and  chose 
rather  to  stay  and  fi^ht  for  this  land  of  pleasure  and  abun- 
dance than  return  to  famine  and  the  desert.  Khaled  decided 
the  question.  It  would  not  do  to  linger  there,  he  said ;  Constan- 
fine,  the  emperor's  son,  being  not  far  off,  at  Caesarea,  with 
forty  thousand  men;  he  advised,  therefore,  that  they  should 
rch  to  Yermouk,  on  the  borders  of  Palestine  and  Arabia , 
ere  they  would  be  within  reach  of  assistance  from  the  Caliph, 
1  might  await,  with  confidence,  the  attack  of  the  imperial 
army.    The  advice  of  Khaled  was  adopted. 


294  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

ADVANCE  OF  A  POWERFUL  IMPERIAL  ARMY— SKIRMISHES  OF 
KHALED — CAPTURE  OF  DERAR— INTERVIEW  OF  KHALED  AND 
MANUEL. 

The  rapid  conquests  of  the  Saracens  had  alarmed  the  emperor 
Heraclius  for  the  safety  of  his  rich  province  of  Syria.     Troops 
had  been  levied  both  in  Europe  and  Asia,  and  transported,  by 
sea  and  land,  to  various  parts  of  the  invaded  country.     The 
main  body,   consisting  of  eighty  thousand  men,  advanced  to 
seek  the  Moslem  host,  under  the  command  of  a  distinguished 
general,  called  Mahan  by  the  Arabian  writers,  and  Manuel  by 
the  Greeks.     On  its  way  the  imperial  army  was  joined  by 
Jabalah  Ibn  al  Aynham,  chief  or  king  of  the  Christian  tribe  of 
Gassan.    This  Jabalah  had  professed  the  Mahometan  faith,  but 
had  apostatized  in  consequence  of  the  following  circumstance: 
He  had  accompanied  the  Caliph  Omar  on  a  pilgrimage  to 
Mecca,  and  was  performing  the  religious  ceremony  of  the 
To wah,  or  sacred  walk  seven  times  round  the  Caaba,  when  an 
Arab  of  the  tribe  of  Fezarah  accidentally  trod  on  the  skirt  of 
liis  Ihram  or  pilgrim  scarf,  so  as  to  draw  it  from  his  shoulders. 
Turning  fiercely  upon  the  Arab,  "Woe  be  unto  thee,"  cried  he, 
"for  uncovering  my  back  in  the  sacred  house  of  God."    The 
pilgrim  protested  it  was  an  accident,  but  Jabalah  buffeted  him 
in  the  face,  bruising  him  sorely,  and  beating  out  four  of  his 
teeth.     The  pilgrim  complained  to  Omar,  but  Jabalah  justified 
himself,  stating  the  indignity  he  had  suffered.     "Had  it  not 
been  for  my  reverence  for  the  Caaba,  and  for  the  prohibition 
to  shed  blood  within  the  sacred  city,  I  would  have  slain  the 
offender  on  the  spot."     "Thou  hast  confessed  thy  fault,"  said 
Omar,  "  and  unless  forgiven  by  thy  adversary,  must  submit  to 
the  law  of  retaliation,  '  an  eye  for  an  eye,  and  a  tooth  for  a 
tooth.'"     "I  am  a  king,"  replied  Jabalah,  proudly,  "and  he  is 
but  a  peasant."     "Ye  are  both  Moslems,"  rejoined  Omar,' 
"and  in  the  sight  of  Allah,  who  is  no  respecter  of  persons,  ye 
are  equal."    The  utmost  that  Jabalah  could  obtain  from  the 
rigid  justice  of  Omar  was,  that  the  execution  of  the  sentence 
might  be  postponed  until  the  next  day.     In  the  night  he  made 
his  escape  and  fled  to  Constantinople,  where  he  abjured  Islam- 
ism,  resumed  the  Christian  faith,  and  went  over  to  the  service 
of  the  emperor  Heraclius.   He  had  now  brought  sixty  thousand 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  295 

Arabs  to  the  aid  of  Manuel.  Such  was  the  powerful  host,  the 
approach  of  which  had  compelled  the  Moslems  to  abandon 
Emessa  on  the  very  moment  of  surrender.  They  had  marched 
to  Yermouk,  a  place  noted  for  its  pleasant  groves  and  the 
sweet  salubrity  of  its  air,  and  lay  encamped  on  the  banks  of  a 
little  stream  of  the  same  name,  heretofore  obscure,  but  now 
destined  to  become  famous  by  a  battle  decisive  of  the  fate  of. 
Syria. 

Manuel  advanced  slowly  and  deliberately  with  his  heavily 
armed  Grecian  soldiery;  but  he  sent  Jabalah  in  the  advance, 
to  scour  the  country  with  his  light  Arab  troops,  as  best  fitted 
to  cope  with  the  skirmishing  warriors  of  the  desert ;  thus,  as 
he  said,  "using  diamond  to  cut  diamond."  The  course  of  these 
combined  armies  was  marked  with  waste,  rapine,  and  outrage, 
and  they  inflicted  all  kinds  of  injuries  and  indignities  on  those 
Christian  places  which  had  made  treaties  with  or  surrendered 
to  the  Moslems. 

While  Manuel  with  his  main  army  was  yet  at  a  distance,  he 
sent  proposals  of  peace  to  Abu  Obeidah,  according  to  the  com- 
mands of  the  emperor.  His  proposals  were  rejected ;  but  Obei- 
dah sent  several  messengers  to  Jabalah,  reproaching  him  with 
his  apostasy,  and  his  warfare  against  his  countrymen,  and  en- 
deavoring to  persuade  him  to  remain  neutral  in  the  impending 
battle.  Jabalah  replied,  however,  that  his  faith  was  commit- 
ted to  the  emperor,  and  he  was  resolved  to  fight  in  his  cause. 

Upon  this  Khaled  came  forward,  and  offered  to  take  this 
apostate  in  his  own  hands.  "He  is  far  in  the  advance  of  the 
main  army,"  said  he;  "let  me  have  a  small  body  of  picked 
men  chosen  by  myself,  and  I  will  fall  upon  him  and  his  infidel 
Arabs  before  Manuel  can  come  up  to  their  assistance." 

His  proposal  was  condemned  by  many  as  rash  and  extrava- 
gant. "By  no  means,"  cried  Khaled,  with  zealous  zeal;  "this 
infidel  force  is  the  army  of  the  devil,  and  can  do  nothing 
against  the  army  of  Allah,  who  will  assist  us  with  his  angels.  '• 

So  pious  an  argument  was  unanswerable.  Khaled  was  per- 
mitted to  choose  his  men,  all  well-sen soned  warriors  whose 
valor  he  had  proved.  With  them  he  fell  upon  Jabalah,  who 
was  totally  unprepared  for  so  hare-brained  an  assault,  threw 
his  host  into  complete  confusion,  and  obliged  him,  after  much 
slaughter,  to  retreat  upon  the  main  body.  The  triumph  of 
Khaled,  however,  was  damped  by  the  loss  of  several  valiant 
officers,  among  whom  were  Yezed,  Eafi,  and  Derar,  who  were 
borne  off  captives  by  the  retreating  Christians. 


296  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSOES. 

In  the  mean  time  a  special  messenger,  named  Abdallah  Ibn 
Kort,  arrived  at  Medina,  bringing  letters  to  the  Caliph  from 
Abu  Obeidah,  describing  the  perilous  situation  of  the  Moslem 
army,  and  entreating  reinforcements.  The  Caliph  ascended 
the  pulpit  of  Mahomet,  and  preached  up  the  glory  of  fighting 
the  good  fight  of  faith  for  God  and  the  prophet.  He  then  gave 
Abdallah  an  epistle  for  Abu  Obeidah,  filled  with  edifying  texts 
from  the  Koran,  and  ending  with  an  assurance  that  he  would 
pray  for  him,  and  would,  moreover,  send  him  a  speedy  rein- 
forcement. This  done,  he  pronounced  a  blessing  on  Abdallah, 
and  bade  him  depart  with  all  speed. 

Abdallah  was  well  advanced  on  his  return,  when  he  called  to 
mind  that  he  had  omitted  to  visit  the  tomb  of  the  prophet. 
Shocked  at  his  forgetfulness,  he  retraced  his  steps,  and  sought 
the  dwelling  of  Ayesha,  within  which  the  prophet  lay  interred. 
He  found  the  beautiful  widow  reclining  beside  the  tomb,  and 
listening  to  Ali  and  Abbas,  who  were  reading  the  Koran,  while 
Hassan  and  Hosein,  the  two  sons  of  Ali  and  grandsons  of  the 
prophet,  were  sitting  on  their  knees. 

Having  paid  due  honors  to  the  prophet's  tomb,  the  consider- 
ate messenger  expressed  his  fears  that  this  pious  visit  might 
prevent  his  reaching  the  army  before  the  expected  battle; 
whereupon  the  holy  party  lifted  up  their  hands  to  heaven,  and 
Ali  put  up  a  prayer  for  his  speedy  journey.  Thus  inspirited, 
he  set  out  anew,  and  travelled  with  such  unusual  and  incredi- 
ble speed  that  the  army  looked  upon  it  as  miraculous,  and  at- 
tributed it  to  the  blessing  of  Omar  and  the  prayer  of  Ali. 

The  promised  reinforcement  was  soon  on  foot.  It  consisted 
of  eight  thousand  men  under  the  command  of  Seid  Ibn  Amir, 
to  whom  the  Caliph  gave  a  red  silk  banner,  and  a  word  of  ad- 
vice at  parting;  cautioning  him  to  govern  himself  as  well  as 
his  soldiers,  and  not  to  let  his  appetites  get  the  better  of  his 
self-command. 

Seid,  with  Moslem  frankness,  counselled  him.  in  return,  to 
fear  God  and  not  man;  to  love  all  Moslems  equally  with  his 
own  kindred ;  to  cherish  those  at  a  distance  equally  with  those 
at  hand ;  finally,  to  command  nothing  but  what  was  right  and 
to  forbid  nothing  but  what  was  wrong."-  The  Caliph  listened 
attentively,  his  forehead  resting  on  his  staff  and  his  eyes  cast 
upon  the  ground.  When  Seid  had  finished,  he  raised  his  head, 
and  the  tears  ran  down  his  cheek.  ';  Alas!"  said  he,  "  who  can 
do  all  this  without  the  aid  of  God." 

Seid  Ibn  Amir  led  his  force  by  the  shortest  route  across  the 


MAHOMET  AND  JUS  SUCCESSORS.  2Q7 

deserts,  and  hurrying  forward  with  more  rapidity  than  heed, 
lost  his  way.  While  he  halted  one  night,  in  the  vicinity  of 
some  springs,  to  ascertain  his  route,  he  was  apprised  by  his 
scouts  that  the  prefect  of  Ammon,  with  five  thousand  men, 
was  near  at  hand.  He  fell  upon  him  instantly  and  cut  the  in- 
fantry to  pieces.  The  prefect  fled  with  his  cavalry,  but  en- 
countered a  foraging  party  from  the  Moslem  camp,  the  leader 
of  which,  Zobeir,  thrust  a  lance  through  his  body,  and  between 
the  two  parties  not  a  man  of  his  troop  escaped.  The  Moslems 
then  placed  the  heads  of  the  Christians  on  their  lances,  and  ar- 
rived with  their  ghastly  trophies  at  the  camp,  to  the  great  en- 
couragement of  Abu  Obeidah  and  his  host. 

The  imperial  army  had  now  drawn  near,  and  Manuel,  the 
general,  attempted  again  to  enter  into  negotiations.  Khaled 
offered  to  go  and  confer  with  him;  but  his  real  object  was  to 
attempt  the  release  of  his  friends  and  brethren  in  arms,  Abu 
Sofian,  Derar,  Rati,  and  the  two  other  officers  captured  in  the 
late  skirmish  with  the  apostate  Jabalah. 

When  Khaled  reached  tbe  outpost  of  the  Christian  army,  he 
was  required  to  leave  his  escort  of  one  hundred  chosen  war 
riors,  and  proceed  alone  to  the  presence  of  the  general;  but  he 
refused.  He  equally  refused  a  demand  that  he  and  his  men 
should  dismount  and  deliver  up  their  scimetars.  After  some 
parley  he  was  permitted  to  enter  into  the  presence  of  the 
general  in  his  own  way. 

Manuel  was  seated  in  state  on  a  kind  of  throne,  surrounded 
by  his  officers,  all  splendidly  arrayed,  while  Khaled  entered 
with  his  hundred  war-worn  veterans,  clad  in  the  simplest 
guise.  Chairs  were  set  out  for  him  and  his  principal  compan- 
ions, but  they  pushed  them  aside  and  seated  themselves  cross- 
legged  on  the  ground,  after  the  Arabic  manner.  When  Manuel 
demanded  the  reason,  Khaled  replied  by  quoting  a  verse  from 
the  twentieth  chapter  of  the  Koran.  "  Of  earth  ye  are  created, 
from  earth  ye  came,  and  unto  earth  ye  must  return."  "God 
made  the  earth,"  added  he,  "  and  what  God  has  made  for  men 
to  sit  upon  is  more  precious  than  your  silken  tapestries." 

The  conference  was  begun  by  Manuel,  who  expostulated  on 
the  injustice  of  the  Moslems  in  making  an  unprovoked  inroad 
into  the  territories  of  their  neighbors,  molesting  them  in  their 
religious  worship,  robbing  them  of  their  wives  and  property, 
and  seizing  on  their  persons  as  slaves,  Khaled  retorted,  that 
it  was  all  owing  to  their  own  obstinacy,  in  refusing  to  acknow- 
ledge that  there  was  but  one  God,  without  relation  or  associate, 


298  MAnOMET  AS'B   JITS  SUCCESSORS. 

and  that  Mahomet  was  his  prophet.  Their  discussion  grew 
violent,  and  Khaled,  in  his  heat,  told  Manuel  that  he  should  one 
day  see  him  dragged  into  the  presence  of  Omar  with  a  halter 
round  his  neck,  there  to  have  his  head  struck  off  as  an  example 
to  all  infidels  and  for  the  edification  of  true  believers. 

Manuel  replied,  in  wrath,  that  Khaled  was  protected  by  his 
character  of  ambassador ;  but  that  he  woidd  punish  his  inso- 
lence by  causing  the  five  Moslem  captives,  his  friends,  to  be 
instantly  beheaded.  Khaled  defied  him  to  execute  his  threat, 
swearing  by  Allah,  by  his  prophet,  and  by  the  holy  Caaba,  that 
if  a  hair  of  their  heads  were  injured,  he  would  slay  Manuel  with 
his  own  hand  on  the  spot,  and  that  each  of  his  Moslems  present 
should  slay  his  man.  So  saying,  he  rose  and  drew  his  scimetar, 
as  did  likewise  his  companions. 

The  imperial  general  was  struck  with  admiration  at  his  in- 
trepidity. He  replied  calmly,  that  what  he  had  said  was  a 
mere  threat,  which  his  humanity  and  his  respect  for  the  mis- 
sion of  Khaled  would  not  permit  him  to  fulfil.  The  Saracens 
were  pacified  and  sheathed  their  swords,  and  the  conference 
went  on  calmly. 

In  the  end,  Manuel  gave  up  the  five  prisoners  to  Khaled  as  a 
token  of  his  esteem ;  and  in  return  Khaled  presented  him  with 
a  beautiful  scarlet  pavilion,  which  he  had  brought  with  him, 
and  pitched  in  the  Christian  camp,  and  for  which  Manuel  had 
expressed  a  desire.  Thus  ended  this  conference,  and  bol  h  par- 
ties retired  from  it  with  soldier-like  regard  for  each  other. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE  BATTLE  OF  YERMOUK. 

The  great  battle  was  now  at  hand  that  was  to  determine  the 
fate  of  Syria,  for  the  emperor  had  staked  the  fortunes  of  this 
favorite  province  on  a  single  but'  gigantic  blow.  Abu  Obeidah, 
conscious  of  the  momentous  nature  of  "the  conflict,  and  diffi- 
dent of  his  abilities  in  the  field,  gave  a  proof  of  his  modesty 
and  magnanimity  by  restoring  to  Khaled  the  command  of  the 
whole  army.  For  himself  he  took  his  station  with  the  women 
in  the  rear,  that  he  might  rally  the  Moslems  should  any  of 
them  be  inclined  to  fly  the  field.     Here  he  erected  his  standard. 


Mahomet  and  tits  successors.  299 

a  yellow  flog,  given  him  by  Abu  Boker,  being  the  same  which 
Mahomet  had  displayed  in  the  battle  of  Khaibar. 

Before  the  action  commenced  Khaled  rode,  among  his  troops, 
making  a  short  but  emphatic  speech.  "Paradise."  cried  he, 
"  is  before  you ;  the  devil  and  hell  behind.  Fight  bravely,  and 
you  will  secure  the  one;  fly,  and  you  will  fall  into  the  other.'' 

The  armies  closed,  but  the  numbers  of  the  Christians  and 
the  superiority  of  Greek  and  Koman  discipline  bore  down  the 
right  wing  of  the  Moslems.  Those,  however,  who  turned  them 
backs  and  attempted  to  fly  were  assailed  with  reproaches  and 
blows  by  the  women,  so  that  they  found  it  easier  to  face  the 
enemy  than  such  a  storm.  Even  Abu  Soflan  himself  received 
a  blow  over  the  face  with  a  tent-pole  from  one  of  those  vira- 
goes, as  he  retreated  before  the  enemy. 

Thrice  were  the  Moslems  beaten  back  by  the  steady  bearing 
of  the  Grecian  phalanx,  and  thrice  were  they  checked  and 
driven  back  to  battle  by  the  women.  Night  at  length  brought 
a  cessation  of  the  bloody  conflict ;  when  Abu  Obeidah  went 
round  among  the  wounded,  ministering  to  them  with  his  own 
hands,  while  the  women  bound  up  their  wounds  with  tender 
care. 

The  battle  was  renewed  on  the  following  morning,  and  again 
the  Moslems  were  sorely  pressed.  The  Christian  archers  made 
fearful  havoc,  and  such  was  their  dexterity  that,  among  the 
great  number  of  Moslems  who  suffered  from  their  arrows  on 
that  day,  seven  hundred  lost  one  or  both  eyes.  Hence  it  was 
commemorated  as  "the  Day  of  the  Blinding;"  and  those  who 
had  received  such  wounds  gloried  in  them,  in  after  years,  as 
so  many  trophies  of  their  having  struggled  for  the  faith  in  that 
day  of  hard  fisrhting.  There  were  several  single  combats  of 
note;  among;  others,  Serjabil  was  engaged  hand  to  hand  with  a 
stout  Christian:  but  Serjabil,  having  signalized  his  piety  by 
excessive  watching  and  farting,  was  so  reduced  in  flesh  and 
strength  that  he  was  no  match  for  his  adversary,  and  would 
infallibly  have  been  overpowered  had  not  Derar  come  behind 
the  Christian  and  stabbed  him  to  the  heart.  Both  warriors 
claimed  the  spoil,  but  it  was  adjudged  to  him  who  slew  the 
enemy.  In  the  course  of  this  arduous  day  the  Moslems  more 
than  once  wavered,  but  were  rallied  back  by  the  valor  of 
the  women.  Caulah,  the  heroic  sister  of  Derar,  mingling  in 
the  fight,  was  wounded  and  struck  down;  but  Offe'frah,  her 
female  friend,  smote  off  the  head  of  her  opponent  and  rescued 
her.     The  battle  lasted  as  long  as  there  was  light  enough  to 


300  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

distinguish  friend  from  foe ;  but  the  night  was  welcome  to  the 
Moslems,  who  needed  all  their  enthusiasm  and  reliance  on  the 
promises  of  the  prophet  to  sustain  them,  so  hard  was  the  strug- 
gle and  so  overwhelming  the  numbers  of  the  enemy.  On  this 
night  the  good  Abu  Obeidah  repeated  at  once  the  prayers  be- 
longing to  two  separate  hours,  that  his  weary  soldiers  might 
enjoy  uninterrupted  sleep. 

For  several  successive  days  this  desperate  battle,  on  which 
hung  the  fate  of  Syria,  was  renewed  with  various  fortunes. 
In  the  end  the  fanatic  valor  of  the  Moslems  prevailed:  the 
Christian  host  was  completely  routed  and  fled  in  all  direc- 
tions. Many  were  overtaken  and  slain  in  the  difficult  passes 
of  the  mountains ;  others  perished  in  a  deep  part  of  the  river 
to  which  they  were  decoyed  b.v  one  of  their  own  people,  in 
revenge  for  an  injury.  Manual,  the  imperial  general,  feU  by 
the  hand  of  a  Moslem  named  Noman  Ibn  Alkamah. 

Abu  Obeidah  went  over  the  battle-field  in  person,  seeing  that 
the  wounded  Moslems  were  well  taken  care  of,  and  the  slain 
decently  interred.  He  was  perplexed  for  a  time  on  finding 
some  heads  without  bodies,  to  know  whether  they  were  Mos- 
lems or  infidels,  but  finally  prayed  over  them  at  a  venture  and 
had  them  buried  like  the  rest. 

In  dividing  the  spoils,  Abu  Obeidah,  after  setting  aside  one 
fifth  for  the  Caliph  and  the  public  treasury,  allotted  to  each 
foot  soldier  one  portion  and  to  each  horseman  three — two  for 
himself  and  one  for  his  steed ;  but  for  each  horse  of  the  pure 
Arabian  breed  he  allowed  a  double  portion.  This  last  allot- 
ment met  with  opposition,  but  was  subsequently  confirmed  by 
the  Caliph,  on  account  of  the  superior  value  of  true  Arabian 
horses. 

Such  was  the  great  battle  fought  on  the  banks  of  the  Yer- 
mouk,  near  the  city  of  that  name,  in  the  month  of  November 
a.d.  636,  and  in  the  15th  year  of  the  Hegira. 


CHAPTER  XVIII> 

SIEGE  AND  CAPTURE  OF  JERUSALEM. 

The  Moslem  invaders  reposed  for  a  month  at  Damascus 
from  the  toil  of  conquest,  during  which  time  Abu  Obeidah  sent 
to  the  Caliph  to  know  whether  he  should  undertake  the  siege 


MAHOMET  AND  BIS  SUCCESSORS.  301 

of  Csesarea  or  Jerusalem.  Ali  was  with  Omar  at  the  time, 
and  advised  the  instant  siege  of  the  latter ;  for  such,  he  said, 
had  been  the  intention  of  the  prophet.  The  enterprise  against 
Jerusalem  was  as  a  holy  war  to  the  Moslems,  for  they  rever- 
enced it  as  an  ancient  seat  of  prophecy  and  revelation,  con- 
nected with  the  histories  of  Moses,  Jesus,  and  Mahomet,  and 
sanctified  by  containing  the  tombs  of  several  of  the  ancient 
prophets.  The  Caliph  adopted  the  advice  of  Ali,  and  ordered 
Abu  Obeidah  to  lead  his  army  into  Palestine,  and  lay  siege  to 
Jerusalem. 

On  receiving  these  orders,  Abu  Obeidah  sent  forward  Yezed 
Abu  Sofian  with  five  thousand  men,  to  commence  the  siege, 
and  for  five  successive  days  detached  after  him  considerable 
reinforcements.  The  people  of  Jerusalem  saw  the  approach  of 
these  portentous  invaders,  who  were  spreading  such  consterna- 
tion throughout  the  East,  but  they  made  no  sally  to  oppose 
them,  nor  sent  out  any  one  to  parley,  but  planted  engines  on 
their  walls,  and  prepared  for  vigorous  defence.  Yezed  ap- 
proached the  city  and  summoned  it  by  sound  of  trumpet,  pro- 
pounding the  customary  terms,  profession  of  the  faith  or 
tribute :  both  were  rejected  with  disdain.  The  Moslems  would 
have  made  instant  assault,  but  Yezed  had  no  such  instructions : 
he  encamped,  therefore,  and  waited  until  orders  arrived  from 
Abu  Obeidah  to  attack  the  city,  when  he  made  the  necessary 
preparations.  * 

At  cock-crow  in  the  morning  the  Moslem  host  was  mar- 
shalled, the  leaders  repeated  the  matin  prayer  each  at  the 
liead  of  his  battalion,  and  all,  as  if  by  one  consent,  with  a  loud 
voice  gave  the  verse  from  the  Koran,*  "Enter  ye,  oh  people, 
into  the  holy  land  which  Allah  hath  destined  for  you. " 

For  ten  days  they  made  repeated  but  unavailing  attacks ;  on 
the  eleventh  day  Abu  Obeidah  brought  the  whole  army  to 
their  aid.  He  immediately  sent  a  written  summons  requiring 
the  iidiabitants  to  believe  in  the  unity  of  God,  the  divine 
mission  of  Mahomet,  the  resurrection  and  final  judgment;  or 
else  to  acknowledge  allegiance,  and  pay  tribute  to  the  Caliph; 
"otherwise,"  concluded  the  letter,  "  I  will  bring  men  against 
you,  who  love  death  better  than  you  love  wine  or  swine's  flesh ; 
nor  will  I  leave  you,  God  willing,  until  I  have  destroyed  your 
fighting  men,  and  made  slaves  of  your  children. " 


*  These  words  are  from  the  fifth  chapter  of  the  Koran,  where  Mahomet  puts 
them  iuto  the  mouth  of  Moses,  as  addressed  to  the  childrcu  01  Israel. 


302  MAHOMET  AXD  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

The  summons  was  addressed  to  the  magistrates  and  princi- 
pal inhabitants  of  iElia,  for  so  Jerusalem  was  named  after  the 
emperor  iElius  Adrian,  when  he  rebuilt  that  city. 

Sophronius,  the  Christian  patriarch,  or  bishop  of  Jerusalem, 
replied  that  this  was  the  holy  city,  and  the  holy  land,  and 
that  whoever  entered  either,  for  a  hostile  purpose,  was  an 
offender  in  the  eyes  of  God.  He  felt  some  confidence  in  set- 
ting the  invaders  at  defiance,  for  the  walls  and  towers  of  the 
city  had  been  diligently  strengthened,  and  the  garrison  had 
been  reinforced  by  fugitives  from  Yermouk,  and  from  various 
parts  of  Syria.  The  city,  too,  was  strong  in  its  situation, 
being  surrounded  by  deep  ravines  and  a  broken  country ;  and 
above  all  there  was  a  pious  incentive  to  courage  and  persever- 
ance in  defending  the  sepulchre  of  Christ. 

Four  wintry  months  elapsed;  every  day  there  was  sharp 
skirmishing ;  the  besiegers  were  assailed  by  sallying  parties, 
annoyed  by  the  engines  on  the  walls,  and  harassed  by  the  in- 
clement weather;  still  they  carried  on  the  siege  with  un- 
diminished spirit.  At  length  the  Patriarch  Sophronius  held  a 
parley  from  the  walls  with  Abu  Obeidah.  "Do  you  not 
know,"  said  he,  "that  this  city  is  holy;  and  that  whoever 
offers  violence  to  it,  draws  upon  his  head  the  vengeance  of 
Heaven?" 

"We  know  it,"  replied  Abu  Obeidah,  "to  be  the  house  of 
the  prophets,  where  their  bodies  lie  interred;  we  know  it  to 
be  the  place  whence  our  prophet  Mahomet  made  his  nocturnal 
ascent  to  heaven;  and  we  know  that  we  are  more  worthy  of 
possessing  it  than  you  are,  nor  will  we  raise  the  siege  until 
Allah  has  delivered  it  into  our  hands,  as  he  has  done  many 
other  places." 

Seeing  there  was  no  further  hope,  the  patriarch  consented 
to  give  up  the  city,  on  condition  that  the  Caliph  would  come 
in  person  to  take  possession  and  sign  the  articles  of  surrender. 

When  this  unusual  stipulation  was  made  known  to  the 
Caliph,  he  held  a  council  with  his  friends.  Othman  despised 
the  people  of  Jerusalem,  and  was  for  refusing  their  terms,  but 
Ah  represented  the  sanctity  and  importance  of  the  place  in  the 
eyes  of  the  Christians,  which  might  prompt  them  to  reinforce 
it,  and  to  make  a  desperate  defence  if  treated  with  indignity. 
Besides,  he  added,  the  presence  of  the  Caliph  would  cheer  and 
inspirit  the  army  in  their  long  absence,  and  after  the  hardships 
of  a  wintry  campaign. 

The  words  of  Ali  had  their  weight  with  the  Caliph :  though 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  303 

certain  Arabian  writers  pretend  that  ho  was  chiefly  moved  by  a 
tradition  handed  down  in  Jerusalem  from  days  of  yore,  which 
said  that  a  man  of  his  name,  religion,  and  personal  appearance 
should  conquer  the  holy  city.  Whatever  may  have  been  his 
inducements,  the  Caliph  resolved  to  receive  in  person  the  sur- 
render of  Jerusalem.  He  accordingly  appointed  Ali  to  officiate 
in  his  place  during  his  absence  from  Medina;  then,  having 
prayed  at  the  mosque,  and  paid  a  pious  visit  to  the  tomb  of  the 
prophet,  he  set  out  on  his  journey. 

The  progress  of  this  formidable  potentate,  who  already  held 
the  destinies  of  empires  in  his  grasp,  and  had  the  plunder  of 
the  Orient  at  his  command,  is  characteristic  of  the  primitive 
days  of  Mahometanism,  and  reveals,  in  some  measure,  the 
secret  of  its  success.  .He  travelled  on  a  red  or  sorrel  camel, 
across  which  was  slung  an  alforja,  or  wallet,  with  a  huge  sack 
or  pocket  at  each  end,  something  like  the  modern  saddle-bags. 
One  pocket  contained  dates  and  dried  fruits,  the  other  a  provi- 
sion called  sawik,  which  was  nothing  more  than  barley,  rice, 
or  wheat,  parched  or  sodden.  Before  him  hung  a  leathern 
bottle,  or  sack,  for  water,  and  behind  him  a  wooden  platter. 
His  companions,  without  distinction  of  rank,  ate  with  him  out 
of  the  same  dish,  using  their  fingers  according  to  Oriental 
usage.  He  slept  at  night  on  a  mat  spread  out  under  a  tree,  or 
under  a  common  Bedouin  tent  of  hair-cloth,  and  never  re- 
sumed his  march  until  he  had  offered  up  the  morning  prayer. 

As  he  journeyed  through  Arabia  in  this  simple  way,  he 
listened  to  the  complaints  of  the  people,  redressed  their  griev- 
ances, and  administered  justice  with  sound  judgment  and  a 
rigid  hand.  Information  was  brought  to  hini  of  an  Arab  who 
was  married  to  two  sisters,  a  practice  not  unusual  among 
idolaters,  but  the  man  was  now  a  Mahometan.  Omar  cited 
the  culprit  and  his  two  wives  into  his  presence,  and  taxed  him 
roundly  with  his  offence ;  but  he  declared  his  ignorance  that 
it  was  contrary  to  the  law  of  the  prophet. 

' '  Thou  liest !"  said  Omar ;  ' '  thou  shalt  part  with  one  of  them 
instantly,  or  lose  thy  head." 

"Evil  was  the  day  that  I  embraced  such  a  religion,1' mut- 
tered the  culprit.     "  Of  what  advantage  has  it  been  to  me?" 

"  Come  nearer  to  me,"  said  Omar;  and  on  his  approaching, 
the  Caliph  bestowed  two  wholesome  blows  on  his  head  with 
his  walking- staff. 

"Enemy  of  God  and  of  thyself,"  cried  he,  c'let  these  blows 
reform  thy  manners,  and  teach  thee  to  speak  witn  more  rever 


304  MAIIOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

ence  of  a  religion  ordained  by  Allah,  and  acknowledged  by  the 
best  of  his  creatures." 

He  then  ordered  the  offender  to  choose  between  his  wives, 
and  finding  him  at  a  loss  which  to  prefer,  the  matter  was 
determined  by  lot,  and  he  was  dismissed  by  the  Caliph  with 
this  parting  admonition:  "Whoever  professes  Islam,  and 
afterward  renounces  it,  is  punishable  with  death;  therefore 
take  heed  to  your  faith.  And  as  to  your  wife's  sister,  whom 
you  have  put  away,  if  ever  I  hear  that  you  have  meddled  with 
her,  you  shall  be  stoned." 

At  another  place  he  beheld  a  number  of  men  exposed  to  the 
burning  heat  of  the  sun  by  their  Moslem  conquerors,  as  a  pun- 
ishment for  failing  to  pay  their  tribute.  Finding,  on  inquiry, 
that  they  were  entirely  destitute  of  means,  he  ordered  them 
to  be  released ;  and  turning  reproachfully  to  their  oppressors, 
"  Compel  no  men,"  said  he,  "to  more  than  they  can  bear;  for 
I  heard  the  apostle  of  God  say  he  who  afflicts  his  fellow  man 
in  this  world  will  be  punished  with  the  fire  of  Jehennam." 

While  yet  within  a  day's  journey  of  Jerusalem,  Abu  Obei- 
dah  came  to  meet  him  and  conduct  him  to  the  camp.  The 
Caliph  proceeded  with  due  deliberation,  never  forgetting  his 
duties  as  a  priest-  and  teacher  of  Islam.  In  the  morning  he 
said  the  usual  prayers,  and  preached  a  sermon,  in  which  he 
spoke  of  the  security  of  those  whom  God  should  lead  in  the 
right  way ;  but  added,  that  there  was  no  help  for  such  as  God 
should  lead  into  error. 

A  gray -headed  Christian  priest,  who  sat  before  him,  could  not 
resist  the  opportunity  to  criticise  the  language  of  the  Caliph 
preacher.     "  God  leads  no  man  into  error,"  said  he,  aloud. 

Omar  deigned  no  direct  reply,  but,  turning  to  those  around, 
" Strike  off  that  old  man's  head,"  said  he,  "if  he  repeats  his 
words." 

The  old  man  was  discreet,  and  held  his  peace.  There  was  no 
arguing  against  the  sword  of  Islam. 

On  his  way  to  the  camp  Omar  beheld  a  number  of  Arabs, 
who  had  thrown  by  the  simple  garb  of  their  country,  and 
arrayed  themselves  in  the  silken  spoils  of  Syria.  He  saw  the 
danger  of  this  luxury  and  effeminacy^ and  ordered  that  they 
should  be  dragged  with  their  faces  in  the  dirt,  and  their  silken 
garments  torn  from  their  backs. 

When  he  came  in  sight  of  Jerusalem  he  lifted  up  his  voice 
and  exclaimed,  "Allah  Achbar?  God  is  mighty  1  God  grant 
us  an  easy  conquest!"    Then  commanding  his   tent    to   be 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  305 

pitched,  he  dismounted  from  his  camel  and  sat  down  within  it 
on  the  ground.  The  Christians  thronged  to  see  the  sovereign 
of  this  new  and  irresistible  people,  who  were  overrunning  and 
subduing  the  earth.  The  Moslems,  fearful  of  an  attempt  at 
assassination,  would  have  kept  them  at  a  distance,  but  Omar 
rebuked  their  fears.  "Nothing  will  befall  us  but  what  God 
hath  decreed.    Let  the  faithful  trust  in  him." 

The  arrival  of  the  Caliph  was  followed  by  immediate  capitu- 
lation. When  the  deputies  from  Jerusalem  were  admitted  to  a 
parley,  they  were  astonished  to  find  this  dreaded  potentate  a 
bald-headed  man,  simply  clad,  and  seated  on  the  ground  in  a 
tent  of  hair-cloth. 

The  articles  of  surrender  were  drawn  up  in  writing  by  Omar, 
and  served  afterward  as  a  model  for  the  Moslem  leaders  in 
other  conquests.  The  Christians  were  to  build  no  new 
churches  in  the  surrendered  territory.  The  church  doors  were 
to  be  set  open  to  travellers,  and  free  ingress  permitted  to 
Mahometans  by  day  and  night.  The  bells  should  only  toll,  and 
not  ring,  and  no  crosses  should  be  erected  on  the  churches,  nor 
shown  publicly  in  the  streets.  The  Christians  should  not  teach 
the  Koran  to  their  children ;  nor  speak  openly  of  their  religion ; 
nor  attempt  to  make  proselytes;  nor  hinder  their  kinsfolk 
from  embracing  Islam.  They  should  not  assume  the  Moslem 
dress,  either  caps,  slippers,  or  turbans,  nor  part  their  hair  like 
Moslems,  but  should  always  be  distinguished  by  girdles.  They 
should  not  use  the  Arabian  language  in  inscriptions  on  their 
signets,  nor  salute  after  the  Moslem  manner,  nor  be  called  by 
Moslem  surnames.  They  should  rise  on  the  entrance  of  a  Mos- 
lem, and  remain  standing  untd  he  should  be  seated.  They 
should  entertain  every  Moslem  traveller  three  days  gratis. 
They  should  sell  no  wine,  bear  no  arms,  and  use  no  saddle  in 
riding ;  neither  should  they  have  any  domestic  who  had  been 
in  Moslem  service. 

Such  were  the  degrading  conditions  imposed  upon  the  proud 
city  of  Jerusalem,  once  the  glory  and  terror  of  the  East,  by  the 
leader  of  a  host  of  wandering  Arabs.  They  were  the  conditions 
generally  imposed  by  the  Moslems  in  their  fanatical  career  of 
conquest.  Utter  scorn  and  abhorrence  of  their  religious  adver- 
saries formed  one  of  the  main  pillars  of  their  faith. 

The  Christians  having  agreed  to  surrender  on  these  terms, 
the  Caliph  gave  them,  under  his  own  hand,  an  assurance  of 
protection  in  their  lives  and  fortunes,  the  use  of  their  churches, 
and  the  exercise  of  their  religion. 


306  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

Omar  entered  the  once  splendid  city  of  Solomon  on  foot,  in 
his  simple  Arab  garb,  with  his  walking-staff  in  his  hand,  and 
accompanied  by  the  venerable  Sophronius,  with  whom  he 
talked  familiarly,  inquiring  about  the  antiquities  and  public 
edifices.  The  worthy  patriarch  treated  the  conqueror  with  all 
outward  deference,  but,  if  we  may  trust  the  words  of  a  Chris- 
tian historian,  he  loathed  the  dirty  Arab  in  his  heart,  and  was 
particularly  disgusted  with  his  garb  of  coarse  woollen,  patched 
with  sheepskin.  His  disgust  was  almost  irrepressible  when 
they  entered  the  church  of  the  Resurrection,  and  Sophronius 
beheld  the  Caliph  in  his  filthy  attire,  seated  in  the  midst  of  the 
sacred  edifice.  ' '  This,  of  a  truth, "  exclaimed  he, ' '  is  the  abom- 
ination of  desolation  predicted  by  Daniel  the  prophet,  standing 
in  the  holy  place." 

It  is  added  that,  to  pacify  the  cleanly  scruples  of  the  patri- 
arch, Omar  consented  to  put  on  clean  raiment  which  he  offered 
him,  until  his  own  garments  were  washed. 

An  instance  of  the  strict  good  faith  of  Omar  is  related  as  oc- 
curring on  this  visit  to  the  Christian  temples.  While  he  was 
standing  with  the  patriarch  in  the  church  of  the  Resurrection, 
one  of  the  stated  hours  for  Moslem  worship  arrived,  and  he 
demanded  where  he  might  pray.  "Where  you  now  are,"  re- 
plied the  patriarch.  Omar,  however,  refused,  and  went  forth. 
The  patriarch  conducted  him  to  the  church  of  Constantine, 
and  spread  a  mat  for  him  to  pray  there :  but  again  he  refused. 
On  going  forth,  he  knelt,  and  prayed  on  the  flight  of  steps 
leading  down  from  the  east  gate  of  the  church.  Tins  done,  he 
turned  to  the  patriarch,  and  gave  him  a  generous  reason  for 
his  conduct.  "Had  I  prayed  in  either  of  the  churches,"  said 
he,  "  the  Moslems  would  have  taken  possession  of  it,  and  con- 
secrated it  as  a  mosque." 

So  scrupulous  was  he  in  observing  his  capitulations  respect- 
ing the  churches,  that  he  gave  the  patriarch  a  writing,  forbid- 
ding the  Moslems  to  pray  upon  the  steps  where  he  had  prayed, 
except  one  person  at  a  time.  The  zeal  of  the  faithful,  however, 
outstripped  their  respect  for  his  commands,  and  one  half  of  the 
steps  and  porch  was  afterward  included  in  a  mosque  built  over 
the  spot  which  he  had  accidentally  saiictified. 

The  Caliph  next  sought  the  place  where  the  temple  of  Solo- 
mon had  stood,,  where  he  founded  a  mosque ;  which,  in  after 
times,  being  enlarged  and  enriched  by  succeeding  Caliphs,  be- 
came one  of  the  noblest  edifices  of  Islam  worship,  and  second 
only  to  the  magnificent  mosque  of  Cordova. 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  307 

The  surrender  of  Jerusalem  took  place  in  the  seventeenth 
year  of  the  Hegira,  and  the  six  hundred  and  thirty-seventh 
year  of  the  Christian  era. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


PROGRESS  OF  THE  MOSLEM  ARMS  IN  SYRIA— SIEGE  OF  ALEPPO- 
OBSTINATE  DEFENCE  BY  YOUKENNA— EXPLOIT  OF  DAMAS — CAP- 
TURE OF  THE  CASTLE — CONVERSION  OF  YOUKENNA. 

The  Caliph  Omar  remained  ten  days  in  Jerusalem,  regulating 
the  great  scheme  of  Islam  conquest.  To  complete  the  subju- 
gation of  Syria,  he  divided  it  into  two  parts.  Southern  Syria, 
consisting  of  Palestine  and  the  maritime  towns,  he  gave  in 
charge  to  Yezed  Ibn  Abu  Sofian,  with  a  considerable  portion 
of  the  army  to  enable  him  to  master  it ;  while  Abu  Obeidah, 
with  a  larger  force,  had  orders  promptly  to  reduce  all  north- 
ern Syria,  comprising  the  country  lying  between  Hauran  and 
Aleppo.  At  the  same  time,  Amru  Ibn  al  Aass,  with  a  body  of 
Moslem  troops,  was  ordered  to  invade  Egypt,  which  venerable 
and  once  mighty  empire  was  then  in  a  state  of  melancholy  de- 
cline. Such  were  the  great  plans  of  Islam  conquest  in  these 
regions;  while  at  the  same  time,  Saad  Ibn  Abi  Wakkas,  an- 
other of  Omar's  generals,  was  pursuing  a  career  of  victories  in 
the  Persian  territories. 

The  return  of  Omar  to  Medina  was  hailed  with  joy  by  the 
inhabitants,  for  they  bad  regarded  with  great  anxiety  and  ap- 
prehension his  visit  to  Jerusalem.  They  knew  the  salubrity 
of  the  climaxe,  the  fertility  of  the  country,  and  the  sacred  char- 
acter of  the  city,  containing  the  tombs  of  the  prophets,  and 
being  the  place,  according  to  Moslem  belief,  where  all  mankind 
were  to  be  assembled  in  the  day  of  the  resurrection.  They  had 
feared,  therefore,  that  he  would  be  tempted  to  fix  his  residence, 
for  the  rest  of  his  days,  in  that  consecrated  city.  Great  was 
their  joy,  therefore,  when  they  saw  their  Caliph  re-enter  their 
gates  in  his  primitive  simplicity,  clad  in  his  coarse  Arab  garb, 
and  seated  on  his  camel  with  his  wallets  of  dried  fruits  and 
sodden  corn ;  his  leathern  bottle  and  his  wooden  platter. 

Abu  Obeidah  departed  from  Jerusalem  shortly  after  the 
Caliph,  and  marched  with  his  army  to  the  north,  receiving  in 


308  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

the  course  of  his  progress  through  Syria  the  submission  of  the 
cities  of  Kennesrin  and  Alhadir,  the  inhabitants  of  which  ran- 
somed themselves  and  their  possessions  for  five  thousand 
ounces  of  gold,  the  like  quantity  of  silver,  two  thousand  suits 
of  silken  raiment,  and  as  much  figs  and  aloes  as  would  load 
five  hundred  mules;  he  then  proceeded  toward  the  city  of 
Aleppo,  which  the  Caliph  had  ordered  him  to  besiege.  The 
inhabitants  of  this  place  were  much  given  to  commerce,  and 
had  amassed  great  wealth;  they  trembled,  therefore,  at  the 
approach  of  these  plundering  sons  of  the  desert,  who  had  laid 
so  many  cities  under  contribution. 

The  city  of  Aleppo  was  Availed  and  fortified ;  but  it  depended 
chiefly  for  defence  upon  its  citadel,  which  stood  without  the 
walls  and  apart  from  the  city,  on  an  artificial  hill  or  mound, 
shaped  like  a  truncated  cone  or  sugar-loaf,  and  faced  with 
stone.  The  citadel  was  of  great  size,  and  commanded  all  the 
adjacent  country ;  it  was  encompassed  by  a  deep  moat,  which 
could  be  filled  from  springs  of  water,  and  was  considered  the 
strongest  castle  in  all  Syria.  The  governor,  who  had  been 
appointed  to  this  place  by  the  emperor  Heraclius,  and  who  had 
held  all  the  territory  between  Aleppo  and  the  Euphrates,  had 
lately  died,  leaving  two  sons,  Youkenna  and  Johannas,  who 
resided  in  the  castle  and  succeeded  to  his  command.  They 
were  completely  opposite  in  character  and  conduct.  You- 
kenna, the  elder  of  the  two,  was  a  warrior,  and  managed  the 
government,  while  Johannas  passed  his  life  in  almost  monkish 
retirement,  devoting  himself  to  study,  to  religious  exercises, 
and  to  acts  of  charity.  On  the  approach  of  the  Moslems  Jo- 
hannas sympathized  with  the  fears  of  the  wealthy  merchants, 
and  advised  his  brother  to  compound  peaceably  with  the 
enemy  for  a  ransom  in  money.  "You  talk  like  a  monk," 
replied  the  fierce  Youkenna;  "you  know  nothing  that  is  due 
to  the  honor  of  a  soldier.  Have  we  not  strong  walls,  a  brave 
garrison,  and  ample  wealth  to  sustain  us,  and  shall  we  meanly 
buy  a  peace  without  striking  a  blow?  Shut  yourself  up  with 
your  books  and  beads ;  study  and  pray,  and  leave  the  defence 
of  the  place  to  me." 

The  next  day  he  summoned  his  "troops,  distributed  money 
among  them,  and  having  thus  roused  their  spirit,  ' '  The 
Arabs,"  said  he,  "have  divided  their  forces;  some  are  in  Pal- 
estine, some  have  gone  to  Egypt,  it  can  be  but  a  mere  detach- 
ment that  is  coming  against  us ;  I  am  for  meeting  them  on  the 
way,  and  giving  them  battle  before  they  come  near  to  Aleppo." 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  309 

His  troops  answered  his  harangue  with  shouts,  so  he  put  him- 
self at  the  head  of  twelve  thousand  men,  and  sallied  forth  to 
encounter  the  Moslems  on  their  march. 

Scarcely  had  this  reckless  warrior  departed  with  his  troops 
when  the  timid  and  trading  part  of  the  community  gathered 
together,  and  took  advantage  of  his  absence  to  send  thirty  of 
ttie  most  important  and  opulent  of  the  inhabitants  to  Abu 
Obeidah,  with  an  offer  of  a  ransom  for  the  city.  These  worth- 
ies, when  they  entered  the  Moslem  camp,  were  astonished  at 
the  order  and  tranquillity  that  reigned  throughout,  under  the 
wise  regulations  of  the  commander-in-chief.  They  were  re- 
ceived by  Abu  Obeidah  with  dignified  composure,  and  in- 
formed him  that  they  had  come  without  the  knowledge  of 
Youkenna,  their  warlike  governor,  who  had  sallied  out  on  a 
foray,  and  whose  tyranny  they  found  insupportable.  After 
much  discussion  Abu  Obeidah  offered  indemnity  to  the  city  of 
Aleppo,  on  condition  that  they  should  pay  a  certain  sum  of 
money,  furnish  provisions  to  his  army,  make  discovery  of 
everything  within  their  knowledge  prejudicial  to  his  interests, 
and  prevent  Youkenna  from  returning  to  the  castle.  They 
agreed  to  all  the  terms  except  that  relating  to  the  castle,  which 
it  was  impossible  for  them  to  execute. 

Abu  Obeidah  dispensed  with  that  point,  but  exacted  from 
them  all  an  oath  to  fulfil  punctually  the  other  conditions,  as- 
suring them  of  his  protection  and  kindness,  should  they  ob- 
serve it;  but  adding  that,  should  they  break  it,  they  need 
expect  no  quarter.  He  then  offered  them  an  escort,  which 
they  declined,  preferring  to  return  quietly  by  the  way  they 
had  come. 

In  the  mean  time  Youkenna,  on  the  day  after  his  sallying 
forth,  fell  in  with  the  advance  guard  of  the  Moslem  army,  con- 
sisting of  one  thousand  men  under  Caab  Ibn  Damarrah.  He 
came  upon  them  by  surprise  while  watering  their  horses  and 
resting  themselves  on  the  grass  in  negligent  security.  A  des- 
perate fight  was  the  consequence;  the  Moslems  at  first  were 
successful,  but  were  overpowered  by  numbers.  One  hundred 
and  seventy  were  slain,  most  of  the  rest  wounded,  and  their 
frequent  cries  of  i(Ya  Mahommed !  ■  Ya  Mahommoci!"  (Oh  Ma- 
homet! Oh  Mahomet!)  showed  the  extremity  of  their  despair. 
Night  alone  saved  them  from  total  massacre;  but  Youkenna 
resolved  to  pursue  the  work  of  extermination  with  the  morn- 
ing light.  In  the  course  of  the  night,  however,  one  of  his 
scouts  brought  him  word  of  the  peaceful  negotiation  carried 


310  MAHOMET  AND   UIS  SUCCESSORS. 

on  by  the  citizens  of  Aleppo  during  his  absence.  Boiling  with 
rage,  he  gave  up  all  further  thought  about  Caab  and  his  men, 
and  hastening  back  to  Aleppo,  drew  up  his  forces,  and  threat- 
ened to  put  everything  to  fire  and  sword  unless  the  inhabi- 
tants renounced  the  treaty,  joined  him  against  the  Moslems, 
and  gave  up  the  devisers  of  the  late  traitorous  schemes.  On 
their  hesitating  to  comply  with  his  demands,  he  charged  on 
them  with  his  troops,  and  put  three  hundred  to  the  sword 
The  cries  and  lamentations  of  the  multitude  reached  the  pious 
Johannas  in  his  retirement  in  the  castle.  He  hastened  to  the 
scene  of  carnage,  and  sought,  by  prayers  and  supplications 
and  pious  remonstrances,  to  stay  the  fury  of  his  brother. 
"What!"  cried  the  fierce  Youkenna,  "shall  I  spare  traitors 
who  are  leagued  with  the  enemy  and  selhng  us  for  gold?" 

"Alas!"  replied  Johannas,  "they  have  only  sought  their 
own  safety;  they  are  not  fighting  men." 

"  Base  wretch!"  cried  Youkenna  in  a  frenzy,  "'tis  thou  hast 
been  the  contriver  of  this  infamous  treason." 

His  naked  sword  was  in  his  hand;  his  actions  were  even 
more  frantic  than  his  words,  and  in  an  instant  the  head  of  his 
meek  and  pious  brother  rolled  on  the  pavement. 

The  people  of  Aleppo  were  in  danger  of  suffering  more  from 
the  madness  of  the  army  than  they  had  apprehended  from  the 
sword  of  the  invader,  when  a  part  of  the  Moslem  arnry  ap- 
peared in  sight,  led  on  by  Khaled.  A  bloody  battle  ensued 
before  the  walls  of  the  town,  three  thousand  of  Youkenna's 
troops  were  slain,  and  he  was  obliged  to  take  refuge  with  a 
considerable  number  within  the  castle,  where  he  placed  en- 
gines on  the  walls  and  prepared  to  defend  himself  to  the  last 
extremity. 

A  council  was  held  in  the  Moslem  camp.  Abu  Obeidah  was 
disposed  to  besiege  the  citadel  and  starve  out  the  garrison,  but 
Khaled,  with  hi3  accustomed  promptness,  was  for  instant  as- 
sault, before  the  emperor  could  send  reinforcements  and  sup- 
plies. As  usual  his  bold  counsel  prevailed:  the  castle  was 
stormed,  and  he  headed  the  assault.  The  conflict  was  one  of 
the  fiercest  in  the  wars  of  Syria.  The  besieged  hurled  huge 
stones  from  the  battlements;  many  of  the  assailants  were  slain, 
many  maimed,  and  Khaled  was  compelled  to  desist  from  the 
attack. 

In  the  dead  of  that  very  night,  when  the  fires  of  the  camp 
were  extinguished,  and  the  Moslems  were  sleeping  after  their 
hard-fought  battle,   Youkenna  sallied  forth  with  his  troops, 


MAHOMET  AND  MS  SUCCESSORS.  3H 

fell  on  the  enemy  sword  in  hand,  killed  sixty,  and  bore  off 
fifty  prisoners ;  Khaled,  however,  was  hard  on  his  traces,  and 
killed  above  a  hundred  of  his  men  before  they  could  shelter 
themselves  within  the  castle.  On  the  next  morning  Youkenna 
paraded  his  fifty  prisoners  on  the  walls  of  the  citadel,  ordered 
them  to  be  beheaded,  and  threw  their  heads  among  the  be- 
siegers. 

Learning  from  his  spies  that  a  detachment  of  Moslems  were 
foraging  the  country,  Youkenna  sent  out,  secretly,  a  troop  of 
horse  in  the  night,  who  fell  upon  the  foragers,  killed  nearly 
seven  score  of  them,  slew  or  hamstrung  their  camels,  mules, 
and  horses,  and  then  hid  themselves  in  the  recesses  of  the 
mountains,  awaiting  the  night  to  get  back  to  the  castle. 

Some  fugitives  carried  tidings  of  this  skirmish  to  the  camp, 
and  Khaled  and  Derar,  with  a  troop  of  horse,  were  soon  at  the 
scene  of  combat.  They  found  the  ground  strewed  with  the 
dead  bodies  of  men  and  animals,  learned  from  some  peasants 
whither  the  enemy  had  retreated,  and  were  informed  of  a  nar- 
row defile  by  which  they  must  return  to  the  castle.  Khaled 
and  Derar  stationed  their  troops  in  ambush  in  this  defile. 
Late  in  the  night  they  perceived  the  enemy  advancing.  They 
suffered  them  to  get  completely  entangled  in  the  defile,  when, 
closing  suddenly  upon  them  on  every  side,  they  slew  a  number 
on  the  spot,  and  took  three  hundred  prisoners.  These  were 
brought  in  triumph  to  the  Moslem  camp,  where  they  would 
have  redeemed  themselves  with  ample  ransom,  but  their  heads 
were  all  stricken  off  in  front  of  the  castle,  by  way  of  retaliation. 

For  five  months  did  the  siege  of  this  fortress  continue ;  all 
the  attacks  of  the  Moslems  were  repulsed,  all  their  stratagems 
discovered  and  circumvented,  for  Youkenna  had  spies  in  the 
very  camp  of  the  enemy,  who  gave  him  intelligence  by  word, 
or  signal,  of  every  plan  and  movement.  Abu  Obeidah  de- 
spaired of  reducing  this  impregnable  castle,  which  impeded 
him  in  his  career  of  conquest,  and  wrote  to  the  Caliph,  propos- 
ing to  abandon  the  siege  and  proceed  against  Antioch.  The 
Caliph,  in  reply,  ordered  him  by  no  means  to  desist,  as  that 
would  give  courage  to  the  enemy,  but  to  press  the  siege  hard, 
and  trust  the  event  to  God.  As  an  additional  reliance,  he  sent 
him  a  reinforcement  of  horse  and  foot,  with  twenty  camels 
to  facilitate  the  march  of  the  infantry.  Notwithstanding  all 
this  aid,  the  siege  was  continued  for  seven-and-forty  days, 
with  no  greater  prospect  of  success. 

While  in  this  state  of  vexatious  impediment  and  delay,  Abu 


312  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

Obeidah  -was  one  day  accosted  by  one  of  the  newly  arrived  sol- 
diers, who  told  him  that,  if  he  would  give  him  thirty  men,  all 
strong  and  valiant,  he  would  pledge  his  head  to  put  him  in 
possession  of  the  castle.  The  man  who  made  this  singular  ap- 
plication was  named  Damas ;  he  was  of  herculean  strength  and 
gigantic  size,  a  brave  soldier,  and  of  great  natural  sagacity, 
although  unimproved  by  education,  as  he  was  born  a  slave. 
Khaled  backed  his  application,  having  heard  of  great  exploits 
performed  by  him  in  Arabia.  Abu  Obeidah,  in  his  perplexi- 
ties, was  willing  to  adopt  any  expedient  to  get  possession  of 
this  obstinate  castle,  and  the  Arabs  were  always  prone  to 
strange  and  extravagant  stratagems  in  their  warfare.  He  ac- 
cordingly placed  thirty  of  his  bravest  men  under  command  of 
Damas,  charging  them  to  obey  Mm  implicitly,  notwithstand- 
ing his  base  condition;  at  the  same  time,  in  compliance  with 
his  request,  he  removed  with  his  army  to  the  distance  of  a 
league,  as  though  about  to  abandon  the  siege. 

It  was  now  night,  and  Damas  concealed  his  thirty  men  near 
to  the  castle,  charging  them  not  to  stir,  nor  utter  a  sound.  He 
then  went  out  alone  and  brought  in  six  Christian  prisoners, 
one  after  another.  He  questioned  them  in  Arabic,  but  they 
were  ignorant  of  the  language,  and  replied  in  then*  own 
tongue.  "The  curse  of  Allah  on  these  Christian  dogs  and 
their  barbarous  jargon,  which  no  man  can  understand,"  cried 
the  rude  Arab,  and  in  his  rage  he  smote  off  their  heads. 

He  went  forth  again,  and  saw  a  man  sliding  down  the  wall, 
whom  he  seized  the  moment  he  touched  the  ground.  He  was 
a  Christian  Arab,  and  was  endeavoring  to  escape  from  the 
tyranny  of  Youkenna,  and  from  him  Damas  obtained  the  in- 
formation he  desired.  He  instantly  dispatched  two  men  to 
Abu  Obeidah,  requesting  him  to  send  him  some  horse  about 
sunrise.  He  then  took  a  goat-skin  from  his  wallet,  with  which 
he  covered  his  back  and  shoulders,  tmd  a  dry  crust  of  bread  in 
his  hand,  and  crept  on  all-fours  close  to  the  wall  of  the  castle. 
His  men  crept  silently  after  him.  When  he  heard  a  noise  he 
gnawed  his  crust  with  a  sound  like  that  of  a  dog  gnawing  a 
bone,  and  his  followers  remained  motionless.  In  this  way  he 
reached  a  part  of  the  castle  wall  which  was  easiest  of  access. 
Then  seating  himself  on  the  ground  he  made  one  of  his  men 
seat  himself  on  his  shoulders,  and  so  on  untd  seven  were  thus 
mounted  on  each  other.  Then  he  who  was  uppermost  stood 
upright,  and  so  did  the  others  in  succession,  until  Damas  rose 
from  the  ground  upon  his  feet,  and  sustained  the  whole  by  his 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  313 

wondrous  strength,  each  rendering  such  aid  as  he  could  by 
bearing  against  the  wall.  The  uppermost  man  was  now  en- 
abled to  scramble  upon  the  battlement,  where  he  found  a 
Christian  sentinel  drunk  and  asleep.  He  seized  and  threw 
him  down  to  the  Moslems  below  the  wall,  who  instantly  dis- 
patched him.  He  then  unfolded  his  turban  and  drew  up  the 
man  below  him,  and  they  two  the  next,  and  so  on  until  Damas 
was  also  on  the  wall. 

Damas  now  enjoined  silence  on  them  all,  and  left  them.  He 
found  two  other  sentinels  sleeping,  whom  he  despatched  with 
his  dagger,  and  then  made  his  way  to  an  aperture  for  the  dis- 
charge of  arrows,  looking  through  which  he  beheld  Youkenna 
in  a  spacious  chamber,  richly  clad,  seated  on  tapestry  of  scar- 
let silk,  flowered  with  gold,  drinking  and  making  merry  with 
a  large  company ;  for  it  would  seem  as  if,  on  the  apparent  de- 
parture of  the  besieging  army,  the  whole  castle  had  been  given 
up  to  feasting  and  carousing. 

Damas  considered  the  company  too  numerous  to  be  at- 
tacked; returning  to  his  men,  therefore,  he  explored  cau- 
tiously with  them  the  interior  of  the  castle.  Coming  suddenly 
upon  the  guards  at  the  main  entrance,  who  had  no  apprehen- 
sion of  danger  from  within,  they  killed  them,  threw  open  the 
gate,  let  down  the  drawbridge,  and  were  joined  by  the  residue 
of  their  party.  The  castle  was  by  this  time  alarmed ;  the  gar- 
rison, half  drunk  and  half  asleep,  came  rushing  from  all  quar- 
ters in  wild  confusion.  The  Moslems  defended  themselves 
stoutly  on  the  drawbridge  and  in  the  narrow  pass  of  the  bar- 
bican until  the  dawn  of  day,  when  a  shout  of  Allah  Achbar 
was  heard,  and  Khaled,  with  a  troop  of  horse,  came  thunder- 
ing through  the  gate. 

The  Christians  threw  down  their  arms  and  cried  for  mercy. 
Khaled  offered  them  their  choice,  death  or  the  faith  of  Islam. 
Youkenna  was  the  first  to  raise  his  finger  and  pronounce  the 
formula ;  his  example  was  followed  by  several  of  his  leading 
men,  whereupon  their  wives  and  children  and  property  were 
secured  to  them.  The  castle,  having  been  tnken  by  storm, 
was  completely  plundered,  and  tbe  spoils  were  divided  among 
the  army,  excepting  the  usual  fifth  part  reserved  for  the  Ca- 
liph. Damas  and  his  brave  companions,  who  had  been  almost 
cut  to  pieces  in  the  fight,  were  praised  to  the  skies,  nor  would 
Abu  Obeidah  stir  with  his  host  until  those  of  them  who  sur- 
vived were  out  of  danger  from  their  wounds. 


314  MAHOMET  AND  BIS  SUCCESSORS. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

PERFIDY  OP  YOUKENNA  TO  HIS  FORMER  FRIENDS — ATTEMPTS 
THE  CASTLE  OF  AAZAZ  BY  TREACHERY — CAPTURE  OF  THE 
CASTLE. 

It  is  a  circumstance  worthy  of  remark  in  the  history  both  of 
Mahomet  and  his  successors,  that  the  most  inveterate  enemies 
of  the  Islam  faith,  when  once  converted  to  it,  even  though 
their  conversion  were  by  the  edge  of  the  sword,  that  great 
Moslem  instrument  of  persuasion,  became  its  faithful  de- 
fenders. Such  was  the  case  with  Youkenna,  who,  from  the 
time  he  embraced  Islam  with  the  Arab  scimetar  at  his  throat, 
became  as  determined  a  champion  of  its  doctrines  as  he  had 
before  been  an  opponent.  Like  all  new  converts,  he  was 
anxious  to  give  striking  proofs  of  his  zeal;  he  had  slain  a 
brother  in  supporting  his  old  faith,  he  now  proposed  to  betray 
a  cousin  in  promoting  the  interests  of  the  new.  This  cousin, 
whose  name  was  Theodorus,  was  governor  of  an  important 
town  and  fortress,  named  Aazaz,  situated  at  no  great  distance 
from  Aleppo,  and  which  it  was  necessary  for  the  Moslems  to 
secure  before  they  left  that  neighborhood.  The  castle  was  of 
great  strength,  and  had  a  numerous  garrison,  but  Youkenna 
offered  to  put  it  into  the  hands  of  Abu  Obeidah  by  stratagem. 
His  plan  was,  to  have  one  hundred  Moslems  disguised  as 
Christian  soldiers;  with  these  he  would  pretend  to  fly  to  the 
fortress  of  Aazaz  for  refuge;  being  pursued  at  a  distance  by  a 
large  body  of  Arabs,  who,  after  coming  in  sight  of  the  place, 
would  appear  to  retire  in  despair,  but  would  conceal  them- 
selves in  the  neighborhood.  His  cousin  Theodorus,  who  knew 
nothing  of  his  conversion,  would  receive  him  with  perfect  con- 
fidence; at  a  concerted  hour  of  the  night  he  and  his  men 
would  fall  suddenly  upon  the  garrison,  and  at  the  same  time 
throw  open  the  gates  to  the  party  without  the  walls,  and 
between  them  both  he  had  no  doubt  of  carrying  the  place 
without  difficulty.  ^ 

Abu  Obeidah  held  counsel  with  Khaled,  who  pronounced 
the  stratagem  apt  and  feasible,  provided  the  sincerity  of  You- 
kenna's  conversion  might  be  depended  upon.  The  new  prose- 
lyte managed  to  obtain  their  confidence,  and  was  dispatched 
on  his  enterprise  with  one  hundred  chosen  men,  selected  by 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  315 

tens  from  ten  tribes  of  Arabs.  After  they  had  departed  a 
sufficient  time,  one  thousand  men  were  sent  in  pretended 
pursuit,  headed  by  Malec  Alashtar,  who  was  instructed  in  the 
whole  stratagem. 

These  Moslem  wars  were  always  a  tissue  of  plot  and  counter- 
plot, of  which  this  whole  story  of  Youkenna  is  a  striking- 
example.  Scarce  had  this  scheme  of  treachery  been  devised 
in  the  Moslem  camp,  when  the  distant  governor  of  Aazaz  was 
apprised  of  it,  with  a  success  and  celerity  that  almost  seemed 
like  magic.  lie  had  at  that  time  a  spy  in  the  Moslem  camp, 
an  Arab  of  the  tribe  or  C-assan,  who  sent  him  a  letter  tied 
under  the  wing  of  a  carrier-pigeon,  informing  him  of  the 
apostasy  of  Youkenna,  and  of  his  intended  treachery ;  though 
the  spy  was  ignorant  of  that  part  of  the  plan  relating  to  the 
thousand  men  imder  Malec  Alashtar.  On  receiving  this  letter, 
Theodoras  put  his  town  and  castle  in  a  posture  of  defence, 
called  in  the  Christian  Arabs  of  the  neighboring  villages 
capable  of  bearing  arms,  and  despatched  a  messenger  named 
Tarik  al  Gassani  to  Lucas  the  prefect  of  Arrawendan,  urging 
him  to  repair  with  troops  to  his  assistance. 

Before  the  arrival  of  the  latter,  Youkenna  appeared  with  his 
pretended  fugitives  before  the  gates  of  Aazaz,  announcing  that 
his  castle  was  taken,  and  that  he  and  his  band  wei'e  flying 
before  pursuers.  Theodoras  sallied  forth  on  horseback,  at  the 
head  of  many  of  his  troops,  as  if  to  receive  his  cousin  with  all 
due  honors.  He  even  alighted  from  his  steed,  and,  approach- 
ing Youkenna  in  a  reverential  manner,  stooped  as  if  to  kiss 
his  stirrup ;  but  suddenly  cutting  the  saddle  girth,  he  pulled 
him  with  his  face  on  the  ground,  and  in  an  instant  his  hundred 
followers  were  likewise  unhorsed  and  made  prisoners.  Theo- 
doras then  spat  in  the  face  of  the  prostrate  Youkenna  and 
reproached  him  with  his  apostasy  and  treachery ;  threatening 
to  send  him  to  answer  for  his  crimes  before  the  emperor 
Heraclius,  and  to  put  all  his  followers  to  the  sword. 

In  the  mean  time  Tarik  al  Gassani,  the  Christian  Arab,  who 
had  been  sent  by  Theodorus  to  summon  the  prefect  of  Arra- 
wendan to  his  aid,  had  executed  his  errand,  but  on  the  way 
back  fell  into  the  hand  of  Malec,  who  was  lying  in  ambus- 
cade with  his  thousand  men.  The  sight  of  a  naked  scimetar 
drew  from  Tarik  information  that  the  plot  of  Youkenna  had 
been  discovered;  that  he  had  been  sent  after  aid,  and  that 
Lucas,  the  prefect  of  Arrawendan,  must  be  actually  on  his 
way  with  five  hundred  cavalry. 


316  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

Profiting  by  this  information,  Halec  placed  Ins  thousand 
men  so  advantageously  as  completely  to  surprise  and  capture 
Lucas  and  his  reinforcement,  as  they  were  marching  in  the 
night.  He  then  devised  a  stratagem  still  to  outwit  the  gov- 
ernor of  Aazaz.  First  he  disguised  his  five  hundred  men  in 
dresses  taken  from  their  Christian  prisoners,  and  gave  them 
the  Christian  standard  of  the  prefect  of  Arrawendan.  Then 
summoning  Tarik  the  messenger  before  him,  and  again  dis- 
playing the  scimetar,  he  exhorted  him  most  earnestly  to  turn 
Mahometan.  There  was  no  resisting  his  arguments,  and  Tarik 
made  a  full  and  hearty  profession  of  the  faith.  Malec  then 
ordered  him  to  prove  his  zeal  for  the  good  cause  by  proceeding 
to  Aazaz  and  informing  Theodoras  that  the  prefect  of  Arra- 
wendan was  at  hand  with  a  reinforcement  of  five  hundred 
men.  The  double-faced  courier  departed  on  his  errand,  accom- 
panied by  a  trusty  Moslem,  who  had  secret  orders  to  smite  off 
his  head  if  he  should  be  found  to  waver ;  but  there  were  still 
other  plots  at  work  in  this  tissue  of  stratagems. 

As  Tarik  and  his  companion  approached  Aazaz,  they  heard 
great  shouting  and  the  sound  of  trumpets,  and  this  was  the 
cause  of  the  change.  Theodorus,  the  governor,  had  committed 
Youkenna  and  his  men  into  the  custody  of  his  son  Leon.  Now 
it  so  happened  that  the  youth  having  frequently  visited  his 
father's  kinsmen  at  the  castle  of  Aleppo,  had  become  violently 
enamored  of  the  daughter  of  Youkenna,  but  had  met  strong 
opposition  to  his  love.  The  present  breach  between  bis  father 
and  Youkenna  threatened  to  place  an  inseparable  barrier 
between  him  and  the  gratification  of  his  passion.  Maddened 
by  his  desires,  the  youth  now  offered  to  Youkenna,  if  be  would 
give  him  his  daughter  to  wife,  to  embrace  Mahometanism,  and 
to  set  him  and  his  companions  at  liberty.  The  offer  was 
accepted.  At  the  dead  of  the  night,  when  the  prisoners  were 
armed  and  liberated,  they  fell  upon  the  sleeping  garrison ;  a 
tumultuous  fight  ensued,  in  the  course  of  which  Theodorus 
was  slain,  by  the  hand,  it  is  said,  of  his  unnatural  son. 

It  was  in  the  height  of  this  conflict  that  Tarik  and  his  com- 
panion arrived  at  the  place,  and,  learning  the  situation  of 
affairs,  hastened  back  to  Malec  Alashtar  with  the  news.  The 
latter  hurried  on  with  his  troops  and  came  in  time  to  complete 
the  capture  of  the  place.  He  bestowed  great  praises  on  You- 
kenna, but  the  latter,  taking  him  by  the  hand,  exclaimed, 
"Thank  Allah  and  this  youth."  He  then  related  the  whole 
story.    The  pious  Malec  lifted  up  his  eyes  and  hands  in  wonder 


MAHOMET  AND  MS  SUCCESSORS.  31 7 

"When  AEah  wills  a  thing,"  exclaimed  he,  "he  prepares  the 


means." 


Leaving  Seid  Ibn  Amir  in  command  of  the  place,  with  You- 
kenna's  band  of  a  hundred  men  as  a  garrison,  Malec  Alashtar 
returned  to  the  main  army  with  great  booty  and  many  prison- 
ers. Youkenna,  however,  refused  to  accompany  him.  He 
was  mprtified  at  the  questionable  result  of  his  undertaking 
against  Aazaz,  the  place  having  been  taken  by  other  means 
than  his  own,  and  vowed  not  to  show  himself  in  the  Moslem 
camp  until  he  had  retrieved  his  credit  by  some  signal  blow. 
Just  at  this  time  there  arrived  at  Aazaz  a  foraging  party  of  a 
thousand  Moslems,  that  had  been  ravaging  the  neighboring 
country ;  among  them  were  two  hundred  renegades,  who  had 
apostatized  with  Youkenna,  and  whose  families  and  effects 
were  in  the  castle  of  Aleppo.  They  were  the  very  men  for  his 
purpose,  and  with  these  he  marched  off  to  execute  one  of  his 
characteristic  stratagems  at  Antioch. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


INTRIGUES  OF  YOUKENNA  AT  ANTIOCH— SIEGE  OF  THAT  CITY  BY 
THE  MOSLEMS— FLIGHT  OF  THE  EMPEROR  TO  CONSTANTINOPLE 
—SURRENDER  OF   ANTIOCH. 

The  city  of  Antioch  was  at  that  time  the  capital  of  Syria, 
and  the  seat  of  the  Roman  government  in  the  East.  It  was  of 
great  extent,  surrounded  by  stone  walls  and  numerous  towers, 
and  stood  in  the  midst  of  a  fertile  country,  watered  by  wells 
and  fountains  and  abundant  streams.  Here  Heraclius  held  his 
court,  and  here  the  Greeks,  sunk  in  luxury  and  effeminacy, 
had  lost  all  the  military  discipline  and  heroism  that  had  made 
them  conquerors  in  Asia. 

Toward  this  capital  Youkenna  proceeded  with  his  band  of 
two  hundred  men;  but  in  the  second  watch  of  the  night  he 
left  them,  after  giving  them  orders  to  keep  on  in  the  highway 
of  the  caravans,  and  on  arriving  at  Antioch,  to  give  themselves 
out  as  fugitives  from  Aleppo.  In  the  meantime  he,  with  two 
of  his  relatives,  struck  into  a  by-road,  and  soon  fell  into  the 
hands  of  one  of  the  emperor's  outposts.  On  announcing  him- 
self Youkenna,  late  governor  of  Aleppo,  he  was  sent  under  a 
guard  of  horse  to  Antioch. 


318  MAHOMET  AND  MS  SUCCESSORS. 

The  emperor  Heraclius,  broken  in  spirit  by  his  late  reverses 
and  his  continual  apprehensions,  wept  at  the  sight  of  You- 
kenna,  and  meekly  upbraided  him  with  hris  apostasy  and 
treason,  but  the  latter,  with  perfect  self-possession  and  effront- 
ery, declared  that  whatever  he  had  done  was  for  the  purpose 
of  preserving  his  life  for  the  emperor's  service ;  and  cited  the 
obstinate  defence  he  had  made  at  Aleppo  and  his  present  volun- 
tary arrival  at  Antioch  as  proofs  of  his  fidelity.  The  emperor 
was  easily  deceived  by  a  man  he  had  been  accustomed  to  regard 
as  one  of  his  bravest  and  most  devoted  officers;  and  indeed 
the  subtle  apostate  had  the  address  to  incline  most  of  the  cour- 
tiers in  his  favor.  To  console  him  for  what  was  considered 
his  recent  misfortunes,  he  was  put  in  command  of  the  two 
hundred  pretended  fugitives  of  his  former  garrison,  as  soon  as 
they  arrived  at  Antioch ;  he  had  thus  a  band  of  kindred  rene- 
gades, ready  to  aid  him  in  any  desperate  treachery.  Further- 
more, to  show  his  entire  confidence  in  him,  the  emperor  sent 
him  with  upward  of  two  thousand  men,  to  escort  his  youngest 
daughter  from  a  neighboring  place  to  the  court  at  Antioch. 
He  performed  his  mission  with  correctness;  as  he  and  his 
troop  were  escorting  the  princess  about  midnight,  the  neighing 
of  their  horses  put  them  on  the  alert,  and  sending  out  scouts 
they  received  intelligence  of  a  party  of  Moslems  asleep,  with 
their  horses  grazing  near  them.  They  proved  to  be  a  body  of  a 
thousand  Christian  Arabs,  under  Haim,  son  of  the  apostate 
Jabalah  Ibn  al  Ay  am,  who  had  made  captives  of  Derar  Ibn  al 
Azwar  and  a  foraging  party  of  two  hundred  Moslems.  They 
all  proceeded  together  to  Antioch,  where  the  emperor  received 
his  daughter  with  great  joy,  and  made  Youkenna  one  of  his 
chief  counsellors. 

Derar  and  his  men  were  brought  into  the  presence  of  the 
emperor,  and  commanded  to  prostrate  themselves  before  him, 
but  they  held  themselves  erect  and  took  no  heed  of  the  com- 
mand. It  was  repeated  more  peremptorily.  "We  bow  to  no 
created  being,"  replied  Derar;  "the  prophet  bids  us  to  yield- 
adoration  to  God  alone." 

The  emperor,  struck  with  this  reply,  propounded  several 
questions  touching  Mahomet  and  Ms  doctrines,  but  Derar, 
whose  province  did  not  lie  in  words,  beckoned  to  Kais  Ibn 
Amir,  an  old  gray-headed  Moslem,  to  answer  them.  A  long 
and  edifying  conference  ensued,  in  which,  in  reply  to  the 
searching  questions  of  the  emperor,  the  venerable  Kais  went 
into  a  history  of  the  prophet,  and  of  the  various  modes  in 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  319 

which  inspiration  came  upon  him.  Sometimes  like  the  sound 
of  a  bell;  sometimes  in  the  likeness  of  an  angel  in  human 
shape ;  sometimes  in  a  dream ;  sometimes  like  the  brightness  of 
the  dawning  day ;  and  that  when  it  was  upon  him  great  drops 
of  sweat  rolled  from  his  forehead,  and  a  tremor  seized  upon  his 
limbs,  lie  furthermore  descanted  with  eloquence  upon  the 
miracles  of  Mahomet,  of  his  nocturnal  journey  to  heaven,  and 
his  conversation  with  the  Most  High.  The  emperor  listened 
with  seeming  respect  to  all  \  hese  matters,  but  they  roused  the 
indignation  of  a  bishop  who  was  present,  and  who  pronounced 
Mahomet  an  impostor.  Derar  took  fire  in  an  instant;  if  he 
could  not  argue,  he  could  make  use  of  a  soldier's  vocabulary, 
and  he  roundly  gave  the  bishop  the  lie,  and  assailed  him  with 
all  kinds  of  epithets.  Instantly  a  number  of  Christian  swords 
flashed  from  their  scabbards,  blows  were  aimed  at  him  from 
every  side;  and  according  to  Moslem  accounts  he  escaped 
death  only  by  miracle ;  though  others  attribute  it  to  the  hurry 
and  confusion  of  his  assailants,  and  to  the  interference  of  You- 
kenna.  The  emperor  was  now  for  having  him  executed  on  the 
cpot ;  but  here  the  good  offices  of  Youkenna  again  saved  him, 
and  his  execution  was  deferred. 

In  the  mean  time  Abu  Obeidah,  with  his  main  army,  was 
making  his  victorious  approaches,  and  subjecting  all  Syria  to 
his  arms.  The  emperor,  in  his  miserable  imbecility  and  blind 
infatuation,  put  the  treacherous  Youkenna  hi  full  command  of 
the  city  and  army.  He  would  again  have  executed  Derar  and 
his  fellow-prisoners,  but  Youkenna  suggested  that  they  had 
better  be  spared  to  be  exchanged  for  any  Christians  that  might 
be  taken  by  the  enemy  They  were  then,  by  advice  of  the 
bishops,  taken  to  one  of  the  churches,  and  exhorted  to  embrace 
the  Christian  faith,  but  they  obstinately  refused.  The  Arabian 
writers,  as  usual,  give  them  sententious  replies  to  the  questions 
put  to  them.  "What  hinders  ye,"  demanded  the  patriarch, 
' '  from  turning  Christians  ?"  "  The  truth  of  our  religion, "  replied 
they.  Heraclius  had  heard  of  the  mean  attire  of  the  Caliph 
Omar,  and  asked  them  why,  having  gained  so  much  wealth  by 
his  conquests,  he  did  not  go  richly  clad  like  other  princes  ?  They 
replied  that  he  cared  not  for  this  world,  but  for  the  world  to 
come,  and  sought  favor  in  the  eyes  of  God  alone.  "  In  what 
kind  of  a  palace  does  he  reside?"  asked  the  emperor.  "In  a 
house  built  of  mud."  "Who  are  his  attendants?"  "Beggars 
and  the  poor."  "  What  tapestry  does  he  sit  upon?"  "Justice 
and  equity."     "  What  is  his  throne?"     "Abstinence  and  true 


320  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

knowledge."  "What  is  his  treasure?"  "Ti-ustinGod."  "And 
who  are  his  guard?"     "  The  bravest  of  the  Unitarians." 

Of  all  the  prisoners  one  only  could  be  induced  to  swerve 
from  his  faith ;  and  he  was  a  youth  fascinated  by  the  beauty 
and  the  unveiled  charms  of  the  Greek  women.  He  was  bap- 
tized with  triumph ;  the  bishops  strove  who  most  should  honor 
him,  and  the  emperor  gave  him  a  horse,  a  beautiful  damsel  to 
wife,  and  enrolled  him  in  the  army  of  Christian  Arabs,  com- 
manded by  the  renegade  Jabalah ;  but  he  was  upbraided  in 
bitter  terms  by  his  father,  who  was  one  of  the  prisoners,  and 
ready  to  die  in  the  faith  of  Islam. 

The  emperor  now  reviewed  bis  army,  which  was  drawn  up 
outside  of  the  walls,  and  at  the  head  of  every  battalion  was  a 
wooden  oratory  with  a  crucifix ;  while  a  precious  crucifix  out 
of  the  main  church,  exhibited  only  on  extraordinary  occasions, 
was  borne  as  a  sacred  standard  before  the  treacherous  You- 
kenna.  One  of  the  main  dependences  of  Heraclius  for  the 
safety  of  Antioch  was  in  the  Iron  Bridge,  so  called  from  its 
great  strength.  It  was  a  bridge  of  stone  across  the  river 
Orontes,  guarded  by  two  towers  and  garrisoned  by  a  great 
force,  having  not  less  than  three  hundred  officers.  The  fate  of 
this  most  important  pass  shows  the  degeneracy  of  Greek  dis- 
cipline and  the  licentiousness  of  the  soldiery,  to  which  in  a 
great  measure  has  been  attributed  the  rapid  successes  of  the 
Moslems.  An  officer  of  the  court  was  charged  to  visit  this 
fortress  each  day,  and  see  that  everything  was  in  order.  On 
one  of  his  visits  he  found  those  who  had  charge  of  the  towers 
drinking  and  revelling,  whereupon  he  ordered  them  to  be 
punished  with  fifty  stripes  each.  They  treasured  the  disgrace 
in  their  hearts ;  the  Moslem  army  approached  to  lay  siege  to 
that  formidable  fortress,  and  when  the  emperor  expected  to 
hear  of  a  long  and  valiant  resistance,  he  was  astonished  by  the 
tidings  that  the  Iron  Bridge  had  been  surrendered  without  a 
blow. 

Heraclius  now  lost  heart  altogether.  Instead  of  calling  a 
council  of  his  generals,  he  assembled  the  bishops  and  wealth- 
iest citizens  in  the  cathedral,  and  Avept  over  the  affairs  of 
Syria.  It  was  a  time  for  dastard  counsel ;  the  apostate  Jaba- 
lah proposed  the  assassination  of  the  Caliph  Omar  as  a  means 
of  throwing  the  affairs  of  the  Saracens  into  confusion.  The 
emperor  was  weak  enough  to  consent,  and  Vathek  Ibn  Mo- 
sapher,  a  bold  young  Arab  of  the  tribe  of  Jabalah,  was  dis- 
patched to  Medina  to  effect  the  treacherous  deed.    The  Ara- 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  321 

bian  historians  give  a  miraculous  close  to  this  undertaking. 
Arriving  at  Medina,  Vathek  concealed  himself  in  a  tree,  with- 
out the  walls,  at  a  place  where  the  Caliph  was  accustomed  to 
walk  after  the  hour  of  prayers.  After  a  time  Omar  ap- 
proached the  place,  and  lay  down  to  sleep  near  the  foot  of  the 
tree.  The  assassin  drew  his  dagger,  and  was  descending,  when 
he  beheld  a  lion  walking  round  the  Caliph,  licking  his  feet  and 
guarding  him  as  he  slept.  When  he  woke  the  lion  went  away 
upon  which  Vathek,  convinced  that  Omar  was  under  the  pro- 
tection of  Heaven,  hastened  down  from  the  tree,  kissed  his 
hand  in  token  of  allegiance,  revealed  his  treacherous  errand, 
and  avowed  his  conversion  to  the  Islam  faith. 

The  surrender  of  the  Iron  Bridge  had  laid  open  Antioch  to 
the  approach  of  Abu  Obeidah,  and  he  advanced  in  battle  array 
to  where  the  Christian  army  was  drawn  up  beneath  its  walls. 
Nestorius,  one  of  the  Christian  commanders,  sallied  forth 
from  among  the  troops  and  defied  the  Moslems  to  single  com- 
bat. Darnas,  the  herculean  warrior,  who  had  taken  the  castle 
of  Aleppo,  spurred  forward  to  meet  him,  but  hia  horse  stum- 
bled and  fell  with  him,  and  he  was  seized  as  the  prisoner  of 
Nestorius,  and  conveyed  to  his  tent,  where  he  was  bound  hand 
and  foot.  Dehac,  another  Moslem,  took  his  place,  and  a  brave 
fight  ensued  between  him  and  Nestorius.  The  parties,  how- 
ever, were  so  well  matched  that,  after  fighting  for  a  long  time 
until  both  were  exhausted,  they  parted  by  mutual  consent. 
While  this  fight  was  going  on,  the  soldiers,  horse  and  foot,  of 
either  army,  thronged  to  see  it,  and  hi  the  tumult  the  tent  of 
Nestorius  was  thrown  down.  There  were  but  three  servants 
left  in  charge  of  it.  Fearful  of  the  anger  of  their  master,  they 
hastened  to  set  it  up  again,  and  loosened  the  bands  of  Damas 
that  he  might  assist  them ;  but  the  moment  he  was  free  he 
arose  in  his  giant  strength,  seized  two  of  the  attendants,  one 
in  each  hand,  dashed  their  heads  against  the  head  of  the  third, 
and  soon  laid  them  all  lifeless  on  the  ground.  Then  opening  a 
chest,  he  arrayed  himself  in  a  dress  belonging  to  Nestorius, 
armed  himself  with  a  sabre,  sprang  on  a  horse  that  stood 
ready  saddled,  and  cut  his  way  through  the  Christian  Arabs 
of  Jabalah  to  the  Moslem  host. 

While  these  things  were  happening  without  the  walls,  trea- 
son was  at  work  in  the  city.  Youkenna,  who  commanded 
there,  set  free  Derar  and  his  fellow-prisoners,  furnished  them 
with  weapons,  and  joined  to  them  his  own  band  of  renegadoes. 
The  tidings  of  this  treachery  and  the  apprehension  of  revolt 


322  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

among  his  own  troops  struck  despair  to  the  heart  of  Heraclius. 
He  had  been  terrified  by  a  dream  in  which  he  had  found  him- 
self thrust  from  his  throne,  and  his  crown  falling  from  hia 
head ;  the  fulfilment  appeared  to  be  at  hand.  Without  wait- 
ing to  withstand  the  evil,  he  assembled  a  few  domestics,  made 
a  secret  retreat  to  the  sea-shore,  and  set  sail  for  Constanti- 
nople. 

The  generals  of  Heraclius,  more  brave  than  their  emperor, 
fought  a  pitched  battle  beneath  the  walls ;  but  the  treachery 
of  Youkenna  and  the  valor  of  Derar  and  his  men,  who  fell  on 
them  unawares,  rendered  their  gallant  struggle  unavailing; 
the  people  of  Antioch  seeing  the  battle  lost  capitulated  for  the 
safety  of  their  city  at  the  cost  of  three  hundred  thousand 
golden  ducats,  and  Abu  Obediah  entered  the  ancient  capital 
of  Syria  in  triumph.  This  event  took  place  on  the  21st  of 
August,  in  the  year  of  redemption  638. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


EXPEDITION  INTO  THE    MOUNTAINS  OF  SYRIA— STORY  OP  A 

MIRACULOUS  CAP. 

The  discreet  Abu  Obeidah  feared  to  exposed  Ids  troops  to  the 
enervating  delights  of  Antioch,  and  to  the  allurements  of  the 
Greek  women,  and,  after  three  days  of  repose  and  refresh- 
ment, marched  forth  from  that  luxurious  city.  He  wrote  a 
letter  to  the  Caliph,  relating  his  important  conquest,  and  the 
flight  of  the  emperor  Heraclius;  and  added  that  he  discovered 
a  grievous  propensity  among  his  troops  to  intermarry  with  the 
beautiful  Grecian  females,  which  he  had  forbidden  them  to  do, 
as  contrary  to  the  injunctions  of  the  Koran. 

The  epistle  was  delivered  to  Omar  just  as  he  was  departing 
on  a  pilgrimage  to  Mecca,  accompanied  by  the  widows  of  the 
prophet.  When  he  had  read  the  letter  he  offered  prayers  and 
thanksgiving  to  Allah,  but  wept  over  Abu  Obeidah's  rigor  to 
his  soldiers.  Seating  himself  upon  the  ground,  he  immedi- 
ately wrote  a  reply  to  his  general,  expressing  his  satisfaction 
at  his  success,  but  exhorting  him  to  more  indulgence  to  bis 
soldiers.  Those  who  had  fought  the  good  fight  ought  to  be 
permitted  to  rest  themselves,  and  to  enjoy  the  good  things 


MAHOMET  AND  UIS  SUCCESSORS.  323 

they  had  gained.  Such  as  had  no  wives  at  home,  might  marry- 
in  Syria,  and  those  who  had  a  desire  for  female  slaves  might 
purchase  as  many  as  they  chose. 

While  the  main  army  reposed  after  the  taking  of  Antioch, 
the  indefatigable  Khaled,  at  the  head  of  a  detachment,  scoured 
the  country  as  far  as  to  the  Euphrates;  took  Membege,  the 
ancient  Hierapolis,  by  force,  and  Berah  and  Bales,  and  other 
places,  by  capitulation,  receiving  a  hundred  thousand  pieces 
of  gold  by  way  of  ransom,  besides  laying  the  inhabitants  under 
annual  tribute. 

Abu  Obeidah,  in  an  assemblage  of  his  officers,  now  proposed 
an  expedition  to  subdue  the  mountains  of  Syria ;  but  no  one 
stepped  forward  to  volunteer.  The  mountains  were  rugged 
and  sterile,  and  covered  with  ice  and  snow  for  the  greater  part 
of  the  year,  and  the  troops  already  began  to  feel  the  effects  of 
the  softening  climate  and  delights  of  Syria.  At  length  a  can- 
didate presented  himself,  named  Meisara  Ibn  Mesroud ;  a  num- 
erous body  of  picked  men  was  placed  under  his  command,  and 
a  black  flag  was  given  him,  bearing  the  inscription,  ' '  There  is 
no  God  but  God.  Mahomet  is  the  messenger  of  God."  Damas 
accompanied  him  at  the  head  of  one  thousand  black  Ethiopian 
slaves.  The  detachment  suffered  greatly  in  the  mountains,  for 
they  were  men  of  sultry  climates,  unaccustomed  to  ice  and 
snow,  and  they  passed  suddenly  from  a  soft  Syrian  summer  to 
the  severity  of  frozen  winter,  and  from  the  midst  of  abundance 
to  regions  of  solitude  and  sterility.  The  inhabitants,  too,  of 
the  scanty  villages,  fled  at  their  approach.  At  length  they  cap- 
tured a  prisoner,  who  informed  them  that  an  imperial  army  of 
many  thousand  men  was  lying  in  wait  for  them  in  a  valley 
about  three  leagues  distant,  and  that  all  the  passes  behind  them 
were  guarded.  A  scout,  dispatched  in  search  of  intelligence, 
confirmed  this  news;  whereupon  they  intrenched  themselves 
in  a  commanding  position,  and  dispatched  a  fleet  courier  to 
Abu  Obeidah,  to  inform  him  of  their  perilous  situation. 

The  courier  made  such  speed  that  when  he  reached  the  pres- 
ence of  Obeidah  he  fainted  through  exhaustion.  Khaled,  who 
had  just  returned  from  his  successful  expedition  to  the  Eu- 
phrates, instantly  hastened  to  the  relief  of  Meisara,  with  three 
thousand  men,  and  was  presently  followed  by  Ayad  Ibn  Ga- 
nam,  with  two  thousand  more. 

Khaled  found  Meisara  and  his  men  making  desperate  stand 
against  an  overwhelming  force.  At  the  sight  of  this  powerful 
reinforcement,  with  the  black  eagle  of  Khaled  in  the  advance, 


324  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

the  Greeks  gave  over  the  attack  and  returned  to  their  camp, 
but  secretly  retreated  in  the  night,  leaving  their  tents  stand- 
ing, and  bearing  off  captive  Abdallah  Ibn  Hodafa,  a  near  rela- 
tive of  the  prophet  and  a  beloved  friend  of  the  Caliph  Omar, 
whom  they  straightway  sent  to  the  emperor  at  Constantinople. 

The  Moslems  forbore  to  pursue  the  enemy  through  these 
difficult  mountains,  and,  after  plundering  the  deserted  tents, 
returned  to  the  main  army.  When  the  Caliph  Omar  received 
tidings  from  Abu  Obeidah  of  the  capture  of  Abdallah  Ibn 
Hodafa,  he  was  grieved  at  heart,  and  dispatched  instantly  an 
epistle  to  the  emperor  Heraclius  at  Constantinople. 

"  Bismillah !    In  the  name  of  the  all-merciful  God ! 

"Praise  be  to  Allah,  the  Lord  of  this  world,  and  of  that 
which  is  to  come,  who  has  neither  companion,  wife,  nor  son ; 
and  blessed  be  Mahomet  his  apostle.  Omar  Ibn  al  Khattab, 
servant  of  God,  to  Heraclius,  emperor  of  the  Greeks.  As  soon 
as  thou  shalt  receive  this  epistle,  fail  not  to  send  to  me  the 
Moslem  captive  whose  name  is  Abdallah  Ibn  Hodafa.  If  thou 
doest  this,  I  shall  have  hope  that  Allah  will  conduct  thee  in 
the  right  path.  If  thou  dost  refuse,  I  will  not  fail  to  send  thee 
such  men  as  traffic  and  merchandise  have  not  turned  from 
the  fear  of  God.  Health  and  happiness  to  all  those  who  tread 
in  the  right  way!" 

In  the  mean  time  the  emperor  had  treated  his  prisoner  with 
great  distinction,  and  as  Abdallah  was  a  cousin-german  to  the 
prophet,  the  son  of  one  of  his  uncles,  he  was  an  object  of  great 
curiosity  at  Constantinople.  The  emperor  proffered  him  lib- 
erty if  he  would  only  make  a  single  sign  of  adoration  to  the 
crucifix,  and  magnificent  rewards  if  he  would  embrace  the 
Christian  faith ;  but  both  proposals  were  rejected.  Heraclius, 
say  the  Arab  writers,  then  changed  his  treatment  of  him ;  shut 
him  up  for  three  days  with  nothing  to  eat  and  drink  but 
swine's  flesh  and  wine,  but  on  the  fourth  day  found  both  un- 
touched. The  faith  of  Abdallah  was  put  to  no  further  proof, 
as  by  this  time  the  emperor  received  the  stern  letter  from  the 
Caliph.  The  letter  had  its  effect.  The  prisoner  was  dismissed, 
with  costly  robes  and  rich  presents,  and  Heraclius  sent  to 
Omar  a  diamond  of  great  size  and  beauty ;  but  no  jeweller  at 
Medina  could  estimate  its  value.  The  abstemious  Omar  re- 
fused to  appropriate  it  to  his  own  use,  though  urged  to  do  so 
by  the  Moslems.  He  placed  it  in  the  public  treasury,  of  which, 
from  his  office,  he  was  the  guardian  and  manager.  It  was 
afterward  sold  for  a  great  sum. 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  325 

A  singular  story  is  related  by  a  Moslem  writer,  but  not  sup- 
ported by  any  rumor  or  surmise  among  Christian  historians. 
It  is  said  that  the  emperor  Heraclius  wavered  in  his  faith,  if  he 
did  not  absolutely  become  a  secret  convert  of  Mahometanism, 
and  this  is  stated  as  the  cause.  He  was  afflicted  with  a  vio- 
lent pain  in  the  head,  for  which  he  could  find  no  remedy,  until 
the  Caliph  Omar  sent  him  a  cap  of  mysterious  virtue.  So  long 
as  he  wore  this  cap  he  was  at  ease,  but  the  moment  he  laid 
it  aside  the  pain  returned.  Heraclius  caused  the  cap  to  be 
ripped  open,  and  found  within  the  lining  a  scrap  of  paper,  on 
which  was  written  in  Arabic  character,  Bismillah!  Arrah- 
mani  Arrahimi !  In  the  name  of  the  all-merciful  God.  This 
cap  is  said  to  have  been  preserved  among  the  Christians  until 
the  year  833,  when  it  was  given  up  by  the  governor  of  a  be- 
sieged town  to  the  Caliph  Almotassem,  on  condition  of  his 
raising  the  siege.  It  was  found  still  to  retain  its  medicinal  vir- 
tues, which  the  pious  Arabians  ascribed  to  the  efficacy  of  the 
devout  inscription.  An  unbelieving  Christian  will  set  it  down 
among  the  charms  and  incantations  which  have  full  effect  on 
imaginative  persons  inclined  to  credulity,  but  upon  none 
others ;  such  persons  abounded  among  the  Arabs. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


EXPEDITION  OF  AMRTJ  IBN  AL  AASS  AGAINST  PRINCE  CONSTAN- 
TINE  IN  SYRIA— THEIR  CONFERENCE — CAPTURE  OF  TRIPOLI  AND 
TYRE — FLIGHT  OF  CONSTANTINE — DEATH  OF  KHALED. 

The  course  of  our  history  now  turns  to  record  the  victories 
of  Amru  Ibn  al  Aass,  to  whom,  after  the  capture  of  Jerusa- 
lem, the  Caliph  had  assigned  the  invasion  and  subjugation  of 
Egypt.  Amru,  however,  did  not  proceed  immediately  to  that- 
country,  but  remained  for  some  time  with  his  division  of  the 
army,  in  Palestine,  where  some  places  still  held  out  for  the 
emperor..  The  natural  and  religious  sobriety  of  the  Arabs  was 
still  sorely  endangered  among  the  temptations  of  Syria.  Sev- 
eral of  the  Moslem  officers  being  seized,  while  on  the  march, 
with  chills  and  griping  pains  in  consequence  of  eating  unripe 
grapes,  were  counselled  by  a  crafty  old  Christian  Arab  to 
drink  freely  of  wine  which  he  produced,  and  which  he  pro- 
nounced a  sovereign  remedy.     They  followed  his  prescriptions 


326  MAHOMET  AND  BIS  SUCCESSORS. 

so  lustily  that  they  all  came  reeling  into  the  camp  to  the  great 
scandal  of  Ainru.  The  punishment  for  drunkenness,  recom- 
mended by  Ali  and  adopted  by  the  Caliph,  was  administered 
to  the  delinquents,  who  each  received  a  sound  bastinado  on  the 
soles  of  the  feet.  This  sobered  them  completely,  but  so  en- 
raged them  with  the  old  man  who  had  recommended  the  pota- 
tions that  they  would  have  put  him  to  death,  had  it  not  been 
represented  to  them  that  he  was  a  stranger  and  under  Moslem 
protection. 

Amru  now  advanced  upon  the  city  of  Csesarea,  where  Con- 
stantine,  son  of  the  emperor,  was  posted  with  a  large  army. 
The  Moslems  were  beset  by  spies,  sent  by  the  Christian  com- 
mander to  obtain  intelligence.  These  were  commonly  Chris- 
tian Arabs,  whom  it  was  almost  impossible  to  distinguish  from 
those  of  the  faith  of  Islam.  One  of  these,  however,  after  sit- 
ing one  day  by  the  camp  fires,  as  he  rose  trod  on  the  end  of  Ms 
own  robe  and  stumbled ;  in  his  vexation  he  uttered  an  oath 
"by  Christ  1"  He  was  immediately  detected  by  his  blasphemy 
to  be  a  Christian  and  a  spy,  and  was  cut  to  pieces  by  the  by- 
standers. Amru  rebuked  them  for  their  precipitancy,  as  he 
might  have  gained  information  from  their  victim,  and  ordered 
that  in  future  all  spies  should  be  brought  to  him. 

The  fears  of  Constantine  increased  with  the  approach  of  the 
army,  and  he  now  dispatched  a  Christian  priest  to  Amru,  so- 
liciting him  to  send  some  principal  officer  to  confer  amicably 
with  him.  An  Ethiopian  negro,  named  Belal  Ibn  Eebah,  of- 
fered to  undertake  the  embassy.  He  was  a  man  of  powerful 
frame  and  sonorous  voice,  and  had  been  employed  by  Ma- 
homet as  a  Muezzin  or  crier,  to  summon  the  people  to  pi*ayers. 
Proud  of  having  officiated  under  the  prophet,  he  retired  from 
office  at  his  death,  and  had  raised  his  voice  but  once  since  that 
event,  and  that  was  on  the  taking  possession  of  Jerusalem,  the 
city  of  the  prophets,  when,  at  the  Caliph  Omar's  command,  he 
summoned  the  true  believers  to  prayers  with  a  force  of  lungs 
that  astonished  the  Jewish  inhabitants. 

Amru  would  have  declined  the  officious  offer  of  the  vocifer- 
ous Ethiopian,  representing  to  him  that  such  a  mission  re- 
quired a  smooth-spoken  Arab,  rather  than  one  of  his* country ; 
but,  on  Belal  conjuring  him  in  the  name  of  Allah  and  the 
prophet  to  let  him  go,  he  reluctantly  consented.  When  the 
priest  saw  who  was  to  accompany  him  back  to  Constantine, 
he  objected  stoutly  to  such  an  ambassador,  and  glancing  con- 
temptuously at  the  negro  features  of  the  Ethiopian,  observed 


MAHOMET  AND  IIIS  SUCCESSORS.  327 

that  Constantine  had  not  sent  for  a  slave  but  for  an  officer. 
The  negro  ambassador,  however,  persisted  in  his  diplomatic 
errand,  but  was  refused  admission,  and  returned  mortified  and 
indignant. 

Amru  now  determined  to  undertake  the  conference  in  per- 
son. Repairing  to  the  Christian  camp,  he  was  conducted  to 
Constantine,  whom  he  found  seated  in  state,  and  who  ordered 
a  chair  to  be  placed  for  him ;  but  he  put  it  aside,  and  seated 
himself  cross-legged  on  the  ground  after  the  Arab  fashion, 
with  his  scimetar  on  his  thigh  and  his  lance  across  his  knees. 
The  curious  conference  that  ensued  is  minutely  narrated  by 
that  pious  Imam  and  Cadi,  the  Moslem  historian  Alwakedi,  in 
his  chronicle  of  the  conquest  of  Syria. 

Constantine  remonstrated  against  the  invasion,  telling  Amru 
that  the  Romans  and  Greeks  and  Arabs  were  brethren,  as  be- 
ing all  the  children  of  Noah,  although,  it  was  true,  the  Arabs 
Were  misbegotten,  as  being  the  descendants  of  Ishmael,  the 
son  of  Hagar,  a  slave  and  a  concubine,  yet  being  thus  breth- 
ren, it  was  sinful  for  them  to  war  against  each  other. 

Amru  replied  that  what  Constantine  had  said  was  true,  and 
that  the  Arabs  gloried  in  acknowledging  Ishmael  as  their  pro- 
genitor, and  envied  not  the  Greeks  their  forefather  Esau,  who 
had  sold  his  birthright  for  a  mess  of  pottage.  He  added  that 
their  difference  related  to  their  religion,  upon  which  ground 
even  brothers  were  justified  in  warfare. 

Amru  proceeded  to  state  that  Noah,  after  the  deluge,  divided 
the  earth  into  three  parts,  between  his  sons  Shem,  Ham,  and 
Japhet,  and  that  Syria  was  in  the  portion  assigned  to  Shem, 
which  continued  down  through  his  descendants  Kathan  and 
Tesm,  and  Jodais  to  Amalek,  the  father  of  the  Amalekite 
Arabs ;  but  that  the  Arabs  had  been  pushed  from  their  fertile 
inheritance  of  Syria  into  the  stony  and  thorny  deserts  of 
Arabia. 

"We  come  now,"  continued  Amru,  "to  claim  our  ancient 
inheritance,  and  resume  the  ancient  partition.  Take  you  the 
stones  and  the  thorns  and  the  barren  deserts  we  have  occupied, 
and  gives  us  back  the  pleasant  land  of  Syria,  with  its  groves, 
its  pastures,  its  fair  cities  and  running  streams." 

To  this  Constantine  replied,  that  the  partition  was  already 
made;  that  time  and  possession  had  confirmed  it ;  and  that 
the  groves  had  been  planted,  and  the  cities  built  by  the  present 
inhabitants.  Each,  therefore,  ought  to  be  contented  with  the 
lot  that  had  fallen  to  him. 


'S2S  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

"There  are  two  conditions, "  rejoined  Amru,  "on  which  the 
land  may  remain  with  its  present  inhabitants.  Let  them  pro- 
fess the  religion  of  Islam,  or  pay  tribute  to  the  Caliph,  as  is  due 
from  all  unbelievers." 

"Not  so,"  said  Constantine,  "  but  let  each  continue  to  possess 
the  land  he  has  inhabited,  and  enjoy  the  produce  of  his  own 
toil,  and  profess  the  faith  which  he  believes,  in  his  own  con- 
science, to  be  true." 

Upon  this  Amru  sternly  rose.  "One  only  alternative,"  said 
he,  "remains.  Since  you  obstinately  refuse  the  conditions  I 
propose,  even  as  your  ancestor  Esau  refused  obedience  to  his 
mother,  let  God  and  the  sword  decide  between  us." 

As  he  was  about  to  depart,  he  added:  "We  will  acknowledge 
no  kindred  with  you,  while  ye  continue  unbelievers.  Ye  are  the 
children  of  Esau,  we  of  Ishmael,  through  whom  alone  the  seal 
and  gift  of  prophecy  descended  from  father  to  son,  from  our 
great  forefather  Adam,  until  it  reached  the  prophet  Mahomet. 
Now  Ishmael  was  the  best  of  the  sons  of  his  father,  and  made 
the  tribe  of  Kenanah,  the  best  tribe  of  Arabia ;  and  the  family 
of  Koreish  is  the  best  of  the  tribe  of  Kenanah ;  and  the  children 
of  Hasehem  are  the  best  of  the  family  of  Koreish ;  and  Abdallah 
Motalleb,  grandsire  of  Mahomet,  was  the  best  of  the  sons  of 
Hasehem ;  and  Abdallah,  the  youngest  and  best  of  the  thirteen 
eons  of  Abu  Motalleb,  was  the  father  of  Mahomet  (on  whom  be 
peace!),  who  was  the  best  and  only  issue  of  his  sire;  and  to 
him  the  angel  Gabriel  descended  from  Allah,  and  inspired  him 
with  the  gift  of  prophecy." 

Thus  terminated  this  noted  conference,  and  Amru  returned 
to  his  host.  The  armies  now  remained  in  sight  of  each  other, 
prepared  for  battle,  but  without  coming  to  action.  One  day 
an  officer  richly  arrayed  came  forth  from  the  Christian  camp, 
defying  the  Moslems  to  single  combat.  Several  were  eager  to 
accept  the  challenge  in  hopes  of  gaining  such  glittering  spoil ; 
but  Amru  rebuked  their  sordid  motives.  "Let  no  man  fight 
for  gain,"  said  he,  "but  for  the  truth.  He  who  loses  his  life 
fighting  for  the  love  of  God  will  have  paradise  as  a  reward ;  but 
he  who  loses  it  fighting  for  any  other  object  will  lose  his  life 
and  all  that  he  fights  for."  ^ 

A  stripling  now  advanced,  an  Arab  from  Yemen,  or  Arabia 
the  Happy,  who  had  sought  these  wars  not,  as  he  said,  for  the 
delights  of  Syria,  or  the  fading  enjoyments  of  this  world,  but 
to  devote  himself  to  the  service  of  God  and  his  apostle.  His 
mother  and  sister  had  in  vain  opposed  his  leaving  his  peaceful 


MAHOMET  AND  UIS  SUCCESSORS.  329 

home  to  seek  a  life  of  danger.  "If  I  fall  in  the  service  of 
Allah,"  said  he,  "I  shall  be  a  martyr;  and  the  prophet  has 
said  that  the  spirits  of  the  martyrs  shall  dwell  in  the  crops  of 
the  green  birds  that  eat  of  the  fruits  and  drink  of  the  rivers  of 
paradise."  Finding  their  remonstrances  of  no  avail,  his  mother 
and  sister  had  followed  him  to  the  wars,  and  they  now  endeav- 
ored to  dissuade  him  from  fighting  with  an  adversary  so  much 
his  superior  in  strength  and  years ;  but  the  youthful  enthusiast 
was  not  to  be  moved.  "Farewell,  mother  and  sister !"  cried 
he;  "we  shall  meet  again  by  that  river  of  joy  provided  in. 
paradise  for  the  apostle  and  his  followers." 

The  youth  rushed  to  the  combat,  but  obtained  almost  in- 
stantly the  crown  of  martyrdom  he  sought.  Another  and 
another  succeeded  him,  but  shared  the  same  fate.  Serjabil  Ibn 
Hasanah  stepped  forth.  As  on  a  former  occasion,  in  purifying 
the  spirit,  he  had  reduced  the  flesh ;  and  a  course  of  watching 
and  fasting  had  rendered  him  but  little  competent  to  face  his 
powerful  adversary.  After  a  short  combat  the  Christian  bore 
him  to  the  earth,  and  setting  his  foot  upon  his  breast,  was 
about  to  take  his  life,  when  his  own  hand  was  suddenly  severed 
from  his  body.  The  prostrate  Ser  jabil  looked  up  with  surprise 
at  his  deliverer ;  for  he  was  in  Grecian  attire,  and  had  come 
from  the  Grecian  host.  He  announced  himself  as  the  unhappy 
Tuleia  Ibn  Chowailed,  formerly  a  pretended  prophet  and  an 
associate  of  Moseilma.  After  the  death  of  that  impostor,  he 
had  repented  of  his  false  prophecies,  and  become  a  Moslem  in 
heart,  and  had  sought  an  opportunity  of  signalizing  his  devo- 
tion to  the  Islam  cause. 

"Oh  brother!"  cried  Ser  jabil,  "the  mercy  of  Allah  is  infinite, 
and  repentance  wipes  away  all  crimes." 

Serjabil  would  now  have  taken  him  to  the  Moslem  host,  but 
Tuleia  hung  back ;  and  at  length  confessed  that  he  would  long 
since  have  joined  the  standard  of  Islam,  but  that  he  was  afraid 
of  Khaled,  that  terror  and  scourge  of  false  prophets,  who  had 
killed  his  friend  Moseilma,  and  who  might  put  him  to  death 
out  of  resentment  for  past  misdeeds.  Serjabil  quieted  his  fears 
by  assuring  him  that  Khaled  was  not  in  the  Moslem  camp ;  he 
then  conducted  him  to  Amru,  who  received  him  with  great 
favor,  and  afterward  gave  him  a  letter  to  the  Caliph  setting 
forth  the  signal  service  he  had  performed,  and  his  sincere  de- 
votion to  the  cause  of  Islam.  He  was  subsequently  employed 
in  the  wars  of  the  Moslems  against  the  Persians. 

The  weather  was  cold  and  tempestuous,  and  the  Christians, 


330  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

disheartened  by  repeated  rev  jrses,  began  daily  to  desert  their 
colors.     The  prince  Constantme  dreaded,  with  his  diminished 
and  discouraged  troops,  to  encounter  an  enemy  flushed  with 
success,  and  continually  augmenting  in  force.     Accordingly, 
he  took  advantage  of  a  tempestuous  night,  and  abandoning  bis 
camp  to  be  plundered  by  the  Moslems,  retreated  with  his  army 
to  Caesarea,  and  shut  himself  up  within  its  walls.     Hither  he 
was  soon  followed  by  Amru,  who  laid  close  siege  to  the  place, 
but  the  walls  were  strong,  tho  garrison  was  numerous,  and 
Constantine  hoped  to  be  able  to  hold  out  until  the  arrival  of 
reinforcements.     The  tidings  of  further  disasters,  and  disgraces 
to  the  imperial  cause,  however,  destroyed  this  hope ;  and  these 
were  brought  about  by  the  stratagems  and  treacheries  of  that 
arch  deceiver  Youkenna.     After  the  surrender  of  Antioch,  that 
wily  traitor  still  kept  up  his  pretended  devotion  to  the  Chris- 
tian cause,  and  retreated  with  his  band  of  renegadoes  to  the 
town  of  Tripoli,  a  seaport  in  Syria,  situated  on  the  Mediterra- 
nean.   Here  he  was  cordially  admitted,  as  his  treachery  was 
still  unknown.     Watching  his  opportunity,  he  rose  with  his 
devoted  band,  seized  on  the  town  and  citadel  without  noise  or 
tumult,  and  kept  the  standard  of  the  cross  still  flying,  while  he 
sent  secret  intelligence  of  his  exploit  to  Abu  Obeidah.     Just  at 
this  time,  a  fleet  of  fifty  ships  from  Cyprus  and  Crete  put  in 
there,  laden  with  arms  and  provisions  for  Constantine's  army. 
Before  notice  could  be  given  of  the  posture  of  affairs,  You- 
kenna gained  possession  of  the  ships,  and  embarked  on  board 
of  them  with  Ms  renegadoes  and  other  troops,  delivering  the 
city  of  Tripoli  into  the  hands  of  the  force  sent  by  Abu  Obeidah 
to  receive  it. 

Bent  on  new  treacheries,  Youkenna  now  sailed  with  the  fleet 
to  Tyre,  displaying  the  Christian  flag,  and  informing  the  gov- 
ernor that  he  was  come  with  a  reinforcement  for  the  army  of 
the  emperor.  He  was  kindly  received,  and  landed  with  nine 
hundred  of  his  troops,  intending  to  rise  on  the  garrison  in  the 
night.  One  of  his  own  men,  however,  betrayed  the  plot,  and 
Youkenna  and  his  followers  were  seized  and  imprisoned  in  the 
citadel. 

In  the  mean  time  Yezed  Ibn  Abu  Sofian,  who  had  marched 
with  two  thousand  men  against  Ca?sarea,  but  had  left  Amru 
to  subdue  it,  came  with  his  troops  into  the  neighborhood  of 
Tyre,  in  hopes  to  find  it  in  possession  of  Youkenna.  Tho 
governor  of  the  city,  despising  so  slender  a  force,  sallied  forth 


MAHOMET  AND  MS  SUCCESSORS.  331 

with  the  greater  part  of  Ms  garrison,  and  the  inhabitants 
mounted  on  the  walls  to  see  the  battle. 

It  was  the  fortune  of  Youkenna,  which  he  derived  from  his 
consummate  skill  in  intrigue,  that  his  failure  and  captivity  on 
this  occasion,  as  on  a  former  one  in  the  castle  of  Aazaz,  served 
only  as  a  foundation  for  his  success.  He  contrived  to  gain 
over  a  Christian  officer  named  Basil,  to  whose  keeping  he  and 
the  other  prisoners  were  intrusted,  and  who  was  already  dis- 
posed to  embrace  the  Islam  faith ;  and  he  sent  information  of 
his  plan  by  a  disguised  messenger  to  Yezed,  and  to  those  of  his 
own  followers  who  remained  on  board  of  the  fleet.  All  this 
was  the  work  of  a  few  horns,  while  the  opposing  forces  were 
preparing  for  action. 

The  battle  was  hardly  begun  when  Youkenna  and  his  nine 
hundred  men,  set  free  by  the  apostate  Basil,  and  conducted  to 
the  arsenal,  armed  themselves  and  separated  in  different  par- 
ties. Some  scoured  the  streets,  shouting  La  ilaha  Allah!  and 
Alia  Achbar !  Others  stationed  themselves  at  the  passages  by 
which  alone  the  guard  could  descend  from  the  walls.  Others 
ran  to  the  port,  where  they  were  joined  by  their  comrades 
from  the  fleet,  and  others  threw  wide  the  gates  to  a  detach- 
ment of  the  army  of  Yezed.  All  this  was  suddenly  effected, 
and  with  sucn  co-operation  from  various  points,  that  the 
place  was  presently  in  the  hands  of  the  Moslems.  Most  of  the 
inhabitants  embraced  the  Islam  faith ;  the  rest  were  pillaged 
and  made  slaves. 

It  was  the  tidings  of  the  loss  of  Tripoli  and  Tyre,  and  of  the 
capture  of  the  fleet,  with  its  munitions  of  war,  that  struck 
dismay  into  the  heart  of  the  prince  Constantine,  and  made 
him  quake  within  the  walls  of  Csesarea,  He  felt  as  if  Amru 
and  his  besieging  army  were  already  within  the  walls,  and, 
taking  disgraceful  counsel  from  his  fears,  and  example  from 
his  father's  flight  from  Antioch,  he  removed  furtively  from 
Csesarea  with  his  family  and  vast  treasure,  gained  promptly  a 
convenient  port,  and  set  all  sail  for  Constantinople. 

The  people  of  Csesarea  finding  one  morning  that  the  son  of 
their  sovereign  had  fled  in  the  night,  capitulated  with  Amru, 
offering  to  deliver  up  the  city,  with  all  the  wealth  belonging  to 
the  family  of  the  late  emperor,  and  two  hundred  thousand 
pieces  of  silver,  as  ransom  for  their  own  property.  Their 
terms  were  promptly  accepted,  Amru  being  anxious  to  depart 
on  the  invasion  of  Egypt. 


332  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

The  surrender  of  Csesarea  was  followed  by  the  other  plaees 
in  the  province  which  had  still  held  out,  and  thus,  after  a  war 
of  six  years,  the  Moslem  conquest  of  Syria  was  completed,  in 
the  fifth  year  of  the  Caliph  Omar,  the  29th  of  the  reign  of 
the  emperor  Heraclius,  the  17th  of  the  Hegira,  and  the  639th 
year  of  our  redemption. 

The  conquest  was  followed  by  a  pestilence,  one  of  the  cus- 
tomary attendants  upon  war.  Great  numbers  of  the  people  of 
Syria  perished,  and  with  them  twenty-five  thousand  of  their 
Arabian  conquerors.  Among  the  latter  was  Abu  Obeidah,  the 
commander-in-chief,  then  fifty -eight  years  of  age ;  also  Yezed 
Ibn  Abu  Sofian,  Serjabil,  and  other  distinguished  generals,  so 
that  the  18th  year  of  the  Hegira  became  designated  as  "The 
year  of  the  mortality. " 

In  closing  this  account  of  the  conquest  of  Syria,  we  must 
note  the  fate  of  one  of  the  most  efficient  of  its  conquerors,  the 
invincible  Khaled.  He  had  never  been  a  favorite  of  Omar, 
who  considered  him  rash  and  headlong,  arrogant  in  the  ex- 
ercise of  command,  unsparing  in  the  use  of  the  sword,  and 
rapacious  in  grasping  the  spoils  of  victory.  His  brilliant 
achievements  in  Irak  and  Syria,  and  the  magnanimity  with 
which  he  yielded  the  command  to  xlbu  Obeidah,  and  zeal- 
ously fought  under  his  standard,  had  never  sufficed  to  efface 
the  prejudice  of  Omar. 

After  the  capture  of  Emessa,  which  was  mainly  effected  by 
the  bravery  of  Khaled,  he  received  congratulations  on  all 
hands  as  the  victor.  Eschaus,  an  Arabian  poet,  sang  his  ex- 
ploits in  lofty  verse,  making  him  the  hero  of  the  whole  Syrian 
conquest.  Khaled,  who  was  as  ready  to  squander  as  to  grasp, 
rewarded  the  adulation  of  the  poet  with  thirty  thousand  pieces 
of  silver.  All  this,  when  reported  to  Omar,  excited  his  quick 
disgust;  he  was  indignant  at  Khaled  for  arrogating  to  himself, 
as  he  supposed,  all  the  glory  of  the  war ;  and  he  attributed  the 
lavish  reward  of  the  poet  to  gratified  vanity.  "Even  if  the 
money  came  from  his  own  purse,"  said  he,  "it  was  shameful 
squandering;  and  God,  says  the  Koran,  loves  not  a  squan- 
derer." 

He  now  gave  faith  to  a  charge  made  against  Khaled  of  em- 
bezzling the  spoils  set  apart  for  the  public  treasury,  and  forth- 
with sent  orders  for  him  to  be  degraded  from  his  command  in 
presence  of  the  assembled  army ;  it  is  even  said  his  arms  were 
tied  behind  his  back  with  his  turban. 

A  rigid  examination  proved  the  charge  of  embezzlement  to 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  333 

be  unfounded,  but  Khaled  was  subjected  to  a  heavy  fine.  The 
sentence  causing  great  dissatisfaction  in  the  army,  the  Caliph 
wrote  to  the  commanders:  "I  have  punished  Khaled  not  on 
account  of  fraud  or  falsehood,  but  for  his  vanity  and  prodigal- 
ity ;  paying  poets  for  ascribing  to  him  alone  all  the  successes 
of  the  holy  war.  Good  and  evil  come  from  God,  not  from 
Khaled!" 

These  indignities  broke  the  heart  of  the  veteran,  who  was 
already  infirm  from  the  wounds  and  hardships  of  his  arduous 
campaigns,  and  he  gradually  sank  into  the  grave,  regretting 
in  his  last  moments  that  he  had  not  died  in  the  field  of  battle. 
He  left  a  name  idolized  by  the  soldiery  and  beloved  by  his 
kindred;  at  his  sepulture,  all  the  women  of  his  race  cut  off 
their  hair  in  token  of  lamentation.  When  it  was  ascertained, 
at  his  death,  that  instead  of  having  enriched  himself  by  the 
wars,  his  whole  property  consisted  of  his  war-horse,  his  arms, 
and  a  single  slave,  Omar  became  sensible  of  the  injustice  he  had 
done  to  his  faithful  general,  and  shed  tears  over  his  grave. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


INVASION  OF  EGYPT  BY  AMRU— CAPTURE  OF  MEMPHIS— SIEGE  AND 
SURRENDER  OF  ALEXANDRIA— BURNING  OF  THE  ALEXANDRIAN 
LIBRARY. 

A  proof  of  the  religious  infatuation,  or  the  blind  confidence 
In  destiny,  which  hurried  the  Moslem  commanders  of  those 
days  into  the  most  extravagant  enterprises,  is  furnished  in 
the  invasion  of  the  once  proud  empire  of  the  Pharaohs,  the 
mighty,  the  mysterious  Egypt,  with  an  army  of  merely  five 
thousand  men.  The  Caliph,  himself,  though  he  had  suggested 
this  expedition,  seems  to  have  been  conscious  of  its  rashness ; 
or  rather  to  have  been  chilled  by  the  doubts  of  his  prime  coun- 
sellor Othman;  for,  while  Amru  was  on  the  march,  he  dis- 
patched missives  after  him  to  the  following  effect:  "If  this 
epistle  reach  thee  before  thou  hast  crossed  the  boundary  of 
Egypt,  come  instantly  back;  but  if  it  find  thee  within  the 
Egyptian  territory,  march  on  with  the  blessing  of  Allah,  and 
be  assured  I  will  send  thee  all  necessary  aid." 

The  bearer  of  the  letter  overtook  Amru  while  yet  within  the 


334  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

bounds  of  Syria ;  that  wary  general  either  had  secret  informa- 
tion, or  made  a  shrewd  surmise  as  to  the  purport  of  his  errand, 
and  continued  his  march  across  the  border  without  admitting 
him  to  an  audience.  Having  encamped  at  the  Egyptian  village 
of  Arish,  he  received  the  courier  with  all  due  respect,  and  read 
the  letter  aloud  in  the  presence  of  his  officers.  When  he  had 
finished,  he  demanded  of  those  about  him  whether  they  were 
in  Syria  or  Egypt.  ' '  In  Egypt, "  was  the  reply.  ' '  Then, "  said 
Amru,  "  we  will  proceed,  with  the  blessing  of  Allah,  and  fulfil 
the  commands  of  the  Caliph." 

The  first  place  to  which  he  laid  siege  was  Farwak,  or  Pe- 
lusium,  situated  on  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean,  on  the 
Isthmus  which  separates  that  sea  from  the  Arabian  Gulf,  and 
connects  Egypt  with  Syria  and  Arabia.  It  was  therefore  con- 
sidered the  key  to  Egypt.  A  month's  siege  put  Amru  in  pos- 
session of  the  place ;  he  then  examined  the  surrounding  country 
with  more  forethought  than  was  generally  manifested  by  the 
Moslem  conquerors,  and  projected  a  canal  across  the  Isthmus, 
to  connect  the  waters  of  the  Eed  Sea  and  the  Mediterranean. 
His  plan,  however,  was  condemned  by  the  Caliph,  as  calculated 
to  throw  open  Arabia  to  a  maritime  invasion  of  the  Christians. 

Amru  now  proceeded  to  Misrah,  the  Memphis  of  the  ancients, 
and  residence  of  the  early  Egyptian  kings.  This  city  was  at 
that  time  the  strongest  fortress  in  Egypt,  except  Alexandria, 
and  still  retained  much  of  its  ancient  magnificence.  It  stood 
on  the  westera  bank  of  the  Nile,  above  the  Delta,  and  a  little 
east  of  the  Pyramids.  The  citadel  was  of  great  strength,  and 
well  garrisoned,  and  had  recently  been  surrounded  "with  a  deep 
ditch,  into  which  nails  and  spikes  had  been  thrown,  to  impede 
assailants. 

The  Arab  armies,  rarely  provided  with  the  engines  necessary 
for  the  attack  of  fortified  places,  generally  beleaguered  them ; 
cut  off  all  supplies ;  attacked  all  foraging  parties  that  sallied 
forth,  and  thus  destroyed  the  garrison  in  detail,  or  starved  it 
to  a  surrender.  This  was  the  reason  of  the  long  duration  of 
their  sieges.  This  of  Misrah,  or  Memphis,  lasted  seven  months ; 
in  the  course  of  which  the  little  army  of  Amru  was  much  re- 
duced by  frequent  skirmishings.  At^the  end  of  this  time  he 
received  a  reinforcement  of  four  thousand  men,  sent  to  him  at 
his  urgent  entreaties  by  the  Caliph.  Still  his  force  would  have 
been  insufficient  for  the  capture  of  the  place,  had  he  not  been 
aided  by  the  treachery  of  its  governor,  Mokawkas. 

This  man,  an  original  Egyptian,  or  Copt,  by  birth,  and  of 


•       MAHOMET  AND  EIS  SUCCESSORS.  335 

noble  rank,  was  a  profound  hypocrite.  Like  most  of  the  Copts, 
he  was  of  the  Jacobite  sect,  who  denied  the  double  nature  of 
Christ. "  He  had  dissembled  his  sectarian  creed,  however,  and 
deceived  the  emperor  Heraclius  by  a  show  of  loyalty,  so  as  to 
be  made  prefect  of  his  native  province,  and  governor  of  the 
city.  Most  of  the  inhabitants  of  Memphis  were  Copts  and  Ja- 
cobite Christians,  and  held  their  Greek  fellow-citizens,  who 
were  of  the  regular  Catholic  church  of  Constantinople,  in  great 
antipathy. 

Mokawkas  in  the  course  of  his  administration  had  collected, 
by  taxes  and  tribute,  an  immense  amount  of  treasure,  which 
he  had  deposited  in  the  citadel.  He  saw  that  the  pow-er  of  the 
emperor  was  coming  to  an  end  in  this  quarter,  and  thought 
the  present  a  good  opportunity  to  provide  for  his  own  fortune. 
Carrying  on  a  secret  correspondence  with  the  Moslem  general, 
he  agreed  to  betray  the  place  into  his  hands,  on  condition  of 
receiving  the  treasure  as  a  reward  for  his  treason.  He  accord- 
ingly, at  an  appointed  time,  removed  the  greater  part  of  the 
garrison  from  the  citadel  to  an  island  in  the  Nile.  The  fortress 
was  immediately  assailed  by  Amru,  at  the  head  of  his  fresh 
troops,  and  was  easily  carried  by  assault,  the  Copts  rendering 
no  assistance.  The  Greek  soldiery,  on  the  Moslem  standard 
being  hoisted  on  the  citadel,  saw  through  the  treachery,  and, 
giving  up  all  as  lost,  escaped  in  their  ships  to  the  main  land ; 
upon  which  the  prefect  surrendered  the  place  by  capitulation. 
An  annual  tribute  of  two  ducats  a  head  was  levied  on  all  the  in- 
habitants of  the  district,  with  the  exception  of  old  men,  women, 
and  boys  under  the  age  of  sixteen  years.  It  was  further  con- 
ditioned that  the  Moslem  army  should  be  furnished  with  provis- 
ions, for  which  they  would  pay,  and  that  the  inhabitants  of  the 
country  should,  forthwith,  build  bridges  over  all  the  streams 
on  the  way  to  Alexandria.  It  was  also  agreed  that  every 
Mussulman  travelling  through  the  country  should  be  entitled 
to  three  days'  hospitality,  free  of  charge. 

The  traitor  Mokawkas  was  put  in  possession  of  his  ill-gotten 
wealth.  He  begged  of  Amru  to  be  taxed  with  the  Copts,  and 
always  to  be  enrolled  among  them ;  declaring  his  abhorrence  of 
the  Greeks  and  their  doctrines;  urging  Amru  to  persecute 
them  with  unremitting  violence.  He  extended  his  sectarian 
bigotry  even  into  the  grave,  stipulating  that,  at  his  death,  he 
should  be  buried  in  the  Christian  Jacobite  church  of  St.  John, 
at  Alexandria. 

Amru,  who  was  politic  as  well  as  brave,  seeing  the  irrecon- 


336  MAI10MET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.        • 

cilable  hatred  of  the  Coptic  or  Jacobite  Christians  to  the 
Greeks,  showed  some  favor  to  that  sect,  in  order  to  make  use 
of  them  in  his  conquest  of  the  country.  He  even  prevailed 
upon  their  patriarch  Benjamin  to  emerge  from  his  desert  and 
hold  a  conference  with  him ;  and  subsequently  declared  that 
"  he  had  never  conversed  with  a  Christian  priest  of  more  inno- 
cent manners  or  venerable  aspect."  This  piece  of  diplomacy 
had  its  effect,  for  we  are  told  that  afl  the  Copts  above  and  be- 
low Memphis  swore  allegiance  to  the  Caliph. 

Amru  now  pressed  on  for  the  city  of  Alexandria,  distant 
about  one  hundred  and  twenty -five  miles.  According  to  stipu- 
lation, the  people  of  the  country  repaired  the  roads  and  erected 
bridges  to  facilitate  his  march;  the  Greeks,  however,  driven 
from  various  quarters  by  the  progress  of  their  invaders,  had 
collected  at  different  posts  on  the  island  of  the  Delta,  and  the 
channels  of  the  Nile,  and  disputed  with  desperate  but  fruitless 
obstinacy,  the  onward  course  of  the  conquerors.  The  severest 
check  was  given  at  Keram  al  Shoraik,  by  the  late  garrison  of 
Memphis,  who  had  fortified  themselves  there  after  retreating 
from  the  island  of  the  Nile.  For  three  days  did  they  maintain 
a  gallant  conflict  with  the  Moslems,  and  then  retired  in  good 
order  to  Alexandria.  With  all  the  facilities  furnished  to  them 
on  then*  march,  it  cost  the  Moslems  two-and-twenty  days  to 
fight  their  way  to  that  great  city. 

Alexander  now  lay  before  them,  the  metropolis  of  wealthy 
Egypt,  the  emporium  of  the  East,  a  place  strongly  fortified, 
stored  with  all  the  munitions  of  war,  open  by  sea  to  all  kinds 
of  supplies  and  reinforcements,  and  garrisoned  by  Greeks,  ag- 
gregated from  various  quarters,  who  here  were  to  make  the 
last  stand  for  their  Egyptian  empire.  It  would  seem  that  noth- 
ing short  of  an  enthusiasm  bordering  on  madness  could  have 
led  Amru  and  his  host  on  an  enterprise  against  this  powerfu 
city. 

The  Moslem  leader,  on  planting  his  standard  before  the  place, 
summoned  it  to  surrender  on  the  usual  terms,  which  being 
promptly  refused,  he  prepared  for  a  vigorous  siege.  The  garri- 
son did  not  wait  to  be  attacked,  but  made  repeated  sallies,  and 
fought  with  desperate  valor.  Those  who  gave  greatest  annoy- 
ance to  the  Moslems  were  their  old  enemies,  the  Greek  troops 
from  Memphis.  Amru,  seeing  that  the  greatest  defence  was 
from  a  main  tower,  or  citadel,  made  a  gallant  assault  upon  it, 
and  carried  it  sword  in  hand.  The  Greek  troops,  however, 
rallied  to  that  point  from  all  parts  of  the  city ;  the  Moslems, 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  337 

after  a  furious  struggle,  gave  way,  and  Amru,  his  faithful 
slave  Werdan,  and  one  of  his  generals,  named  Moslema  Ibn  al 
Mokalled,  fighting  to  the  last,  were  surrounded,  overpowered, 
and  taken  prisoners. 

The  Greeks,  unaware  of  the  importance  of  their  captives, 
led  them  before  the  governor.  He  demanded  of  them,  haugh- 
tily, what  was  their  object  in  thus  overrunning  the  world,  and 
disturbing  the  quiet  of  peaceable  neighbors.  Amru  made  the 
usual  reply,  that  they  came  to  spread  the  faith  of  Islam ;  and 
that  it  was  their  intention,  before  they  laid  by  the  sword,  to 
make  the  Egyptians  either  converts  or  tributaries.  The  bold- 
ness of  his  answer  and  the  loftiness  of  his  demeanor  awakened 
the  suspicions  of  the  governor,  who,  supposing  him  to  be  a  war- 
rior of  note  among  the  Arabs,  ordered  one  of  his  guards  to 
strike  off  his  head.  Upon  this  Werdan,  the  slave,  understand- 
ing the  Greek  language,  seized  his  master  by  the  collar,  and, 
giving  him  a  buffet  on  the  cheek,  called  him  an  impudent  dog, 
and  ordered  him  to  hold  his  peace,  and  let  his  superiors  speak. 
Moslema,  perceiving  the  meaning  of  the  slave,  now  interposed, 
and  made  a  plausible  speech  to  the  governor,  telling  him  that 
Amru  had  thoughts  of  raising  the  siege,  having  received  a 
letter  to  that  effect  from  the  Caliph,  who  intended  to  send  am- 
bassadors to  treat  for  peace,  and  assuring  the  governor  that,  if 
permitted  to  depart,  they  would  make  a  favorable  report  to 
Amru. 

The  governor,  who,  if  Arabian  chronicles  may  be  believed 
on  this  point,  must  have  been  a  man  of  easy  faith,  ordered  the 
prisoners  to  be  set  at  liberty ;  but  the  shouts  of  the  besieging 
array  on  the  safe  return  of  their  general  soon  showed  him  how 
completely  he  had  been  duped. 

But  scanty  details  of  the  siege  of  Alexandria  have  reached 
the  Christian  reader,  yet  it  was  one  of  the  longest,  most  ob- 
stinately contested  and  sanguinary,  in  the  whole  course  of  the 
Moslem  wars.  It  endured  fourteen  months  with  various  suc- 
cess; the  Moslem  army  was  repeatedly  reinforced,  and  lost 
twenty-three  thousand  men ;  at  length  their  irresistible  ardor 
and  perseverance  prevailed;  the  capital  of  Egypt  was  con- 
quered, and  the  Greek  inhabitants  were  dispersed  in  all  direc- 
tions. Some  retreated  in  considerable  bodies  into  the  interior 
of  the  country,  and  fortified  themselves  in  strongholds ;  others 
took  refuge  in  the  ships,  and  put  to  sea. 

Amru,  on  taking  possession  of  the  city,  found  it  nearly 
abandoned;  he  prohibited  his  troops  from  plundering;   and 


338  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

leaving  a  small  garrison  to  guard  the  place,  hastened  with  his 
main  army  in  pursuit  of  the  fugitive  Greeks.  In  the  mean  time 
the  ships  which  had  taken  off  a  part  of  the  garrison  were  still 
lingering  on  the  coast,  and  tidings  reached  them  that  the  Mos- 
lem general  had  departed,  and  had  left  the  captured  city  nearly 
defenceless.  They  immediately  made  sail  back  for  Alexandria, 
and  entered  the  port  in  the  night.  The  Greek  soldiers  surprised 
the  sentinels,  got  possession  of  the  city,  and  put  most  of  the 
Moslems  they  found* there  to  the  sword. 

Amru  was  in  full  pursuit  of  the  Greek  fugitives  when  he 
heard  of  the  recapture  of  the  city.  Mortified  at  his  own  neg- 
ligence in  leaving  so  rich  a  conquest  with  so  slight  a  guard,  he 
returned  in  all  haste,  resolved  to  retake  it  by  storm.  The 
Greeks,  however,  had  fortified  themselves  strongly  in  the 
castle,  and  made  stout  resistance.  Amru  was  obliged,  there- 
fore, to  besiege  it  a  second  time,  but  the  siege  was  short.  The 
castle  was  carried  by  assault ;  many  of  the  Greeks  were  cut  to 
pieces,  the  rest  escaped  once  more  to  their  ships,  and  now  gave 
up  the  capital  as  lost.  All  this  occurred  in  the  nineteenth  year 
of  the  Hegira,  and  the  year  G40  of  the  Christian  era. 

On  this  second  capture  of  the  city  by  force  of  arms,  and 
without  capitulation,  the  troops  were  clamorous  to  be  permit- 
ted to  plunder.  Amru  again  checked  their  rapacity,  and  com- 
manded that  all  persons  and  property  in  the  place  should  re- 
main inviolate,  until  the  will  of  the  Caliph  could  be  known. 
So  perfect  was  his  command  over  his  troops,  that  not  the  most 
trivial  article  was  taken.  His  letter  to  the  Caliph  shows  what 
must  have  been  the  population  and  splendor  of  Alexandria, 
and  the  luxury  and  effeminacy  of  its  inhabitants,  at  the  time 
of  the  Moslem  conquest.  It  states  the  city  to  have  contained 
four  thousand  palaces,  five  thousand  baths,  four  hundred  thea- 
tres and  places  of  amusement,  twelve  thousand  gardeners 
which  supply  it  with  vegetables,  and  forty  thousand  tributary 
Jews.  It  was  impossible,  he  said,  to  do  justice  to  its  riches 
and  magnificence.  He  had  hitherto  held  it  sacred  from  plun- 
der, but  his  troops,  having  won  it  by  force  of  arms,  considered 
themselves  entitled  to  the  spoils  of  victory. 

The  Caliph  Omar,  in  reply,  expressed  a  high  sense  of  his  im- 
portant services,  but  reproved  hiin^for  even  mentioning  the 
desire  of  the  soldiery  to  plunder  so  rich  a  city,  one  of  the  great- 
est emporiums  of  the  East.  He  charged  him,  therefore,  most 
rigidly  to  watch  over  the  rapacious  propensities  of  his  men ;  to 
prevent  all  pillage,  violence,  and  waste;  to  collect  and  make 


M AUO MET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  339 

out  an  account  of  all  moneys,  jcrwels,  household  furniture,  and 
everything  else  that  was  valuable,  to  be  appropriated  toward 
defraying  the  expenses  of  this  war  of  the  faith.  He  ordered 
the  tribute  also,  collected  in  the  conquei-ed  country,  to  be 
treasured  up  at  Alexandria,  for  the  supplies  of  the  Moslem 
troops. 

The  surrender  of  all  Egypt  followed  the  capture  of  its  capital. 
A  tribute  of  two  ducats  was  laid  on  every  male  of  mature  age, 
besides  a  tax  on  all  lands  in  proportion  to  then-  value,  and  the 
revenue  which  resulted  to  the  Caliph  is  estimated  at  twelve 
millions  of  ducats. 

We  have  shown  that  Amru  was  a  poet  in  his  youth ;  and 
throughout  all  his  campaigns  he  manifested  an  intelligent  and 
inquiring  spirit,  if  not  more  highly  informed,  at  least  more 
liberal  and  extended  in  its  views  than  was  usual  among  the 
early  Moslem  conquerors.  He  delighted,  in  his  hours  of 
leisure,  to  converse  with  learned  men,  and  acquire  through 
their  means  such  knowledge  as  had  been  denied  to  him  by 
the  deficiency  of  his  education.  Such  a  companion  he  found 
at  Alexandria  in  a  native  of  the  place,  a  Christian  of  the  sect 
of  the  Jacobites,  eminent  for  his  philological  researches,  his 
commentaries  on  Moses  and  Aristotle,  and  his  laborious  treat- 
ises of  various  kinds,  surnamed  Philoponus  from  his  love  of 
study,  but  commonly  known  by  the  name  of  John  the  Gram- 
marian. An  intimacy  soon  arose  between  the  Arab  conqueror 
and  the  Christian  philologist ;  an  intimacy  honorable  to  Amru, 
but  destined  to  be  lamentable  in  its  result  to  the  cause  of  let- 
ters. In  an  evil  hour,  John  the  Grammarian,  being  encour- 
aged by  the  favor  shown  him  by  the  Arab  general,  revealed  to 
hhn  a  treasure  hitherto  unnoticed,  or  rather  unvalued,  by  the 
Moslem  conquerors.  This  was  a  vast  collection  of  books  or 
manuscripts,  since  renowned  in  history  as  the  Alexandrian 
Library.  Perceiving  that  in  taking  an  account  of  everything 
valuable  in  the  city,  and  sealing  up  all  its  treasures,  Amru 
had  taken  no  notice  of  the  books,  John  solicited  that  they 
might  be  given  to  him.  Unfortunately,  the  learned  zeal  of 
the  Grammarian  gave  a  consequence  to  the  books  in  the  eyes 
of  Amru,  and  made  him  scrupulous  of  giving  them  away  with- 
out permission  of  the  Caliph.  He  forthwith  wrote  to  Omar, 
stating  the  merits  of  John,  and  requesting  to  know  whether 
the  books  might  be  given  to  him.  The  reply  of  Omar  was 
laconic,  but  fatal.  "The  contents  of  those  books,"  said  he, 
"are  in  conformity  with  the  Koran,  or  they  are  not.     H  they 


340  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

are,  the  Koran  is  sufficient  without  them ;  if  they  are  not,  they 
are  pernicious.     Let  them,  therefore,  be  destroyed." 

Amru,  it  is  said,  obeyed  the  order  punctually.  The  books 
and  manuscripts  were  distributed  as  fuel  among  the  five  thou- 
sand baths  of  the  city ;  but  so  numerous  were  tbey  that  it  took 
six  months  to  consume  them.  This  act  of  barbarism,  recorded 
by  Abulpharagius,  is  considered  somewhat  doubtful  by  Gib- 
bon, in  consequence  of  its  not  being  mentioned  by  two  of  the 
most  ancient  chroniclers,  Elmacin  in  his  Saracenic  history,  and 
Eutychius  in  his  annals,  the  latter  of  whom  was  patriarch  of 
Alexandria,  and  has  detailed  the  conquest  of  that  city.  It  is 
inconsistent,  too,  with  the  character  of  Amru,  as  a  poet  and  a 
man  of  superior  intelligence;  and  it  has  recently  been  re- 
ported, we  know  not  on  what  autbority,  that  many  of  the 
literary  treasures  thus  said  to  have  been  destroyed,  do  actu- 
ally exist  in  Constantinople.  Their  destruction,  however,  is 
generally  credited  and  deeply  deplored  by  historians.  Amru, 
as  a  man  of  genius  and  intelligence,  may  have  grieved  at  the 
order  of  the  Caliph;  while,  as  a  loyal  subject  and  faithful  sol- 
dier, he  felt  bound  to  obey  it.* 

The  fall  of  Alexandria  decided  the  fate  of  Egypt  and  like- 
wise that  of  the  emperor  Heraclius.  He  was  already  afflicted 
with  a  dropsy,  and  took  the  loss  of  his  Syrian,  and  now  that  of 
his  Egyptian  dominions,  so  much  to  heart,  that  he  underwent 
a  paroxysm,  which  ended  in  his  death,  about  seven  weeks  after 
the  loss  of  his  Egyptian  capital.  He  was  succeeded  by  his  son 
Constantine. 

While  Amru  was  successfully  extending  his  conquests,  a 
great  dearth  and  famine  fell  upon  all  Arabia,  insomuch  that 
the  Caliph  Omar  had  to  call  upon  him  for  supplies  from  the 
fertile  plains  of  Egypt;  whereupon  Amru  dispatched  such  a 
train  of  camels  laden  with  grain,  that  it  is  said,  when  the  first 
of  the  line  had  reached  the  city  of  Medina,  the  last  had  not  yet 
left  the  land  of  Egypt.  But  this  mode  of  conveyance  proving 
too  tardy,  at  the  command  of  the  Caliph  he  dug  a  canal  of 

*  The  Alexandrian  Library  was  formed  by  Ptolemy  Soter,  and  placed  in  a  build- 
ing called  the  Bruchion.  It  was  augmented  in  successive  reigns  to  400  000  volumes, 
and  an  additional  300,000  volumes  were  placed  i*.a  temple  called  the  Serapeon.' 
The  Bruchion.  with  the  books  it  contained,  was  burnt  in  the  war  of  Cffisar,  but  the 
Serapeon  was  preserved.  Cleopatra,  it  is  said,  added  to  it  the  library  of  Pergamas, 
given  to  her  by  Marc  Antony,  consisting  of  200.000  volumes.  It  sustained  repeated 
injuries  during  various  subsequent  revolutions,  but  was  always  restored  to  its 
ancient  splendor,  and  numerous  additions  made  to  it.  Such  was  its  state  at  the 
capture  of  Alexandria  by  the  Moslems. 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  841 

communication  from  the  Nile  to  the  Red  Sea,  a  distance  of 
eighty  miles,  by  which  provisions  might  be  conveyed  to  the 
Arabian  shores.  This  canal  had  been  commenced  by  Trajan, 
the  Roman  emperor. 

The  able  and  indefatigable  Amru  went  on  in  this  manner, 
executing  the  commands  and  fulfilling  the  wishes  of  the 
Caliph,  and  governed  the  country  he  had  conquered  with 
such  sagacity  and  justice  that  he  rendered  himself  one  of  the 
most  worthily  renowned  among  the  Moslem  generals. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


ENTERPRISES  OF  THE  MOSLEMS  IN  PERSIA — DEFENCE  OF  THE 
KINGDOM  BY  QUEEN  ARZEMIA — BATTLE  OF  THE  BRDDGE. 

For  the  sake  of  perspicuity,  we  have  recorded  the  Moslem 
conquests  in  Syria  and  Egypt  in  a  continued  narrative,  with- 
out pausing  to  notice  events  which  were  occurring  at  the  same 
time  in  other  quarters ;  we  now  recede  several  years  to  take  up 
the  course  of  affairs  in  Persia,  from  the  time  that  Khaled,  in 
the  thirteenth  year  of  the  Hegira,  in  obedience  to  the  orders  of 
Abu  Beker,  left  his  victorious  army  on  the  banks  of  the  Eu- 
phrates, to  take  the  general  command  in  Syria.     The  victories 
of  Khaled  had  doubtless  been  owing  in  part  to  the  distracted 
state  of  the  Persian  empire.     In  the  course  of  an  inconsidera- 
ble number  of  years,  the  proud  sceptre  of  the  Khosrus  had 
passed  from  hand  to  hand;  Khosru  II.,  surnamed  Parviz,  hav- 
ing been  repeatedly  defeated  by  Heraclius,  was  deposed  in 
628,  by  a  party  of  his  nobles,  headed  by  his  own  son  Siroes  (or 
Shiruyah),  and  was  put  to  death  by  the  latter  in  a  vault  under 
the  palace,  among  the  treasures  he  had  amassed.    To  secure 
possession  of  the  throne,  Siroes  followed  up  the  parricide  by 
the  massacre  of  seventeen  of  his  brothers.   It  was  not  ambition 
alone  that  instigated  these  crimes.     He  was  enamored  of  a 
sultana  in  the  harem  of  his  father,  the  matchless  Shireen. 
While  yet  reeking  with  his  father's  blood  he  declared  his  pas- 
sion to  her.     She  recoiled  from  him  with  horror,  and  when  he 
would  have  used  force,  gave  herself  instant  death  to  escape 
from  his  embraces.    The  disappointment  of  his  passion,  the 
upbraidings  of  his  sisters  for  the  murders  of  their  father  and 


342  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

their  brothers,  and  the  stings  of  his  own  conscience,  threw 
Siroes  into  a  moody  melancholy,  and  either  caused,  or  added 
acuteness  to  a  malady,  of  which  he  died  in  the  course  of  eight 
months. 

His  infant  son  Ardisheer  was  placed  on  the  throne  about  the 
end  of  628,  but  was  presently  slain,  and  the  throne  usurped  by 
Sheriyar,  a  Persian  noble,  who  was  himself  killed  after  a  very 
short  reign.  Turan-Docht,  a  daughter  of  Khosru  Parviz,  was 
now  crowned  and  reigned  eighteen  months,  when  she  was  set 
aside  by  her  cousin  Shah  Shenandeh,  who  was  himself  deposed 
by  the  nobles,  and  Arzemi-Docht  *  or  Arzemia,  as  the  name  is 
commonly  given,  another  daughter  of  Khosru  Parviz,  was 
placed  on  the  throne  in  the  year  632  of  the  Christian  era.  The 
Persian  seat  of  government,  which  had  been  often  changed, 
was  at  this  time  held  in  the  magnificent  city  of  Madain,  or 
Madayn,  on  the  Tigris,  where  was  the  ancient  Ctesiphon. 

Arzemia  was  distinguished  alike  for  masculine  talents  and 
feminine  beauty ;  she  had  been  carefully  instructed  under  her 
father  Khosru,  and  had  acquired  sad  experience,  during  the 
series  of  conspiracies  and  assassinations  which  had  beset  the 
throne  for  the  last  four  years.  Eejecting  from  her  council 
the  very  traitors  who  had  placed  the  crown  upon  her  head,  she 
undertook  to  wield  the  sceptre  without  the  aid  of  a  vizir,  there- 
by giving  mortal  offence  to  the  most  powerful  nobles  of  her 
realm.  She  was  soon  called  upon  to  exert  her  masculine  spirit 
by  the  continued  aggressions  of  the  Moslems. 

The  reader  will  recollect  that  the  Moslem  army  on  the  Eu- 
phrates, at  the  departure  of  Khaled,  was  left  under  the  com- 
mand of  Mosenna  Ibn  Haris  (or  Muthenna  Ibn  Harith,  as  the 
name  is  sometimes  rendered).  On  the  accession  of  Omar  to 
the  Caliphat,  he  appointed  Mosenna  emir  or  governor  of 
Sewad,  the  country  recently  conquered  by  Khaled,  lying 
about  the  lower  part  of  the  Euphrates  and  the  Tigris,  forming 
a  portion  of  the  Persian  province  of  Irak-Arabi.  This  was  in 
compliance  with  the  wishes  and  intentions  of  Abu  Beker; 
though  Omar  does  not  appear  to  have  had  great  confidence  in 
the  military  talents  of  Mosenna,  the  career  of  conquest  having 
languished  in  his  hands  since  the  departure  of  Khaled.  He 
accordingly  sent  Abu  Obeidah  Sakfi,  one  of  the  most  impor- 
tant disciples  of  the  prophet,  at  the  head  of  a  thousand  chosen 


.  *  Doclit  or  Dokht,  diminutive  of  dukhter,  signifies  the    unmarried  or  maiden 
state. 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCMJSSOIiS.  343 

men,  to  reinforce  the  army  under  Mosenna,  and  to  take  the 
lead  in  military  enterprises.*  He  was  accompanied  by  Sabit 
Ibn  Kais,  one  of  the  veterans  of  the  battle  of  Beder. 

The  Persian  queen,  hearing  of  the  advance  of  the  Moslem 
army  thus  reinforced,  sent  an  able  general,  Rustain  Ibn 
Ferukh-Zad  (or  Feruchsad),  with  thirty  thousand  more,  to 
repel  them.  Rustam  halted  on  the  confines  of  Irak,  and  sent 
forward  strong  detachments  under  a  general  named  Dschaban, 
and  a  Persian  prince  named  Narsi  (or  Narsis).  These  were  so 
roughly  handled  by  the  Moslems  that  Rustam  found  it  neces- 
sary to  hasten  with  his  main  force  to  their  assistance.  He  ar- 
rived too  late;  they  had  been  severally  defeated  and  put  to 
flight,  and  the  whole  country  of  Sewad  was  in  the  hands  of  the 
Moslems. 

Queen  Arzemia,  still  more  aroused  to  the  danger  of  her  king- 
dom, sent  Rustam  a  reinforcement  led  by  Behman  Dschadu, 
surnamed  the  Veiled,  from  the  shaggy  eyebrows  which  over- 
shadowed his  visage.  He  brought  with  him  three  thousand 
men  and  thirty  elephants.  These  animals,  of  little  real  utility 
in  warfare,  were  formidable  in  the  eyes  of  those  unaccustomed 
to  them,  and  were  intended  to  strike  terror  into  the  Arabian 
troops.  One  of  them  was  the  white  elephant  Mahmoud, 
famous  for  having  been  ridden  by  Abraha,  the  Ethiopian  king, 
in  foregone  times,  when  he  invaded  Mecca,  and  assailed  the 
Caaba.  It  was  considered  a  harbinger  of  victory,  all  the  en- 
terprises in  which  it  had  been  employed  having  proved  suc- 
cessful. 

With  Behman,  the  heavy-browed,  came  also  the  standard  of 
Kaoh,  the  sacred  standard.  It  was  originally  the  leathern 
apron  of  the  blacksmith  Kaoh,  which  he  reared  as  a  banner 
when  he  roused  the  people,  and  delivered  Persia  from  the 
tyranny  of  Sohak.  It  had  been  enlarged  from  time  to  time 
with  costly  silk,  embroidered  with  gold,  until  it  was  twenty- 
two  feet  long  and  fifteen  broad ;  and  was  decorated  with  gems 
of  inestimable  value.  With  this  standard  the  fate  of  the 
kingdom  was  believed,  by  superstitious  Persians,  to  be  con- 
nected. 

The  Moslem  forces,  even  with  the  reinforcement  brought  by 
Abu  Obeidah  Sakfi,  did  not  exceed  nine  thousand  in  number; 


*  This  Abu  Obeidah  has  sometimes  been  confounded  with  the  general  of  the 
same  name,  who  commanded  in  Syria;  the  latter,  however,  was  Abu  Obeidah  Ibn 
Aljerah  (the  son  of  Aljerah). 


344  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

the  Persians,  encamped  near  the  ruins  of  Babylon,  were  vastly 
superior.  It  was  the  counsel  of  Mosenna  and  the  veteran 
Sabit,  that  they  should  fall  back  into  the  deserts,  and  remain 
encamped  there  until  reinforcements  could  be  obtained  from 
the  Caliph.  Abu  Obeidah,  however,  was  for  a  totally  different 
course.  He  undervalued  the  prowess  of  the  Persians;  he  had 
heard  Mosenna  censured  for  want  of  enterprise,  and  Khalod 
extolled  to  the  skies  for  his  daring  achievements  in  this  quar- 
ter. He  was  determined  to  emulate  them,  to  cross  the  Euphra- 
tes and  attack  the  Persians  in  their  encampment.  In  vain 
Mosenna  and  Sabit  remonstrated.  He  caused  a  bridge  of  boats 
to  be  thrown  across  the  Euphrates,  and  led  the  way  to  the  op- 
posite bank.  His  troops  did  not  follow  with  their  usual  alac- 
rity, for  they  felt  the  rashness  of  the  enterprise.  While  they 
were  yet  crossing  the  bridge,  they  were  severely  galled  by  a 
body  of  archers,  detached  in  the  advance  by  Rustam ;  and  were 
met  at  the  head  of  the  bridge  by  that  warrior  with  his  van- 
guard of  cavalry. 

The  conflict  was  severe.  The  banner  of  Islam  passed  from 
hand  to  hand  of  seven  brave  champions,  as  one  after  another 
fell  in  its  defence.  The  Persians  were  beaten  back,  but  now 
arrived  the  main  body  of  the  army  with  the  thirty  elephants. 
Abu  Obeidah  breasted  fearlessly  the  storm  of  war  which  he 
had  so  rashly  provoked.  He  called  to  his  men  not  to  fear  the 
elephants,  but  to  strike  at  their  trunks.  He  himself  severed, 
with  a  blow  of  his  scimetar,  the  trunk  of  the  famous  white  ele- 
phant, but  in  so  doing  his  foot  slipped,  he  fell  to  the  earth,  and 
was  trampled  to  death  by  the  enraged  animal. 

The  Moslems,  disheartened  by  his  loss,  and  overwhelmed  by 
numbers,  endeavored  to  regain  the  bridge.  The  enemy  had 
thrown  combustibles  into  the  boats  on  which  it  was  construct- 
ed, and  had  set  them  on  fire.  Some  of  the  troops  were  driven 
into  the  water  and  perished  there ;  the  main  body  retreated 
along  the  river,  protected  in  the  rear  by  Mosenna,  who  now 
displayed  the  skill  of  an  able  general,  and  kept  the  enemy  at 
bay  until  a  slight  bridge  could  be  hastily  thrown  across  another 
part  of  the  river.  He  was  the  last  to  cross  the  bridge,  and 
caused  it  to  be  broken  behind  him. 

Four  thousand  Moslems  were  either  slain  or  drowned  in  this 
rash  affair;  two  thousand  fled  to  Medina,  and  about  three 
thousand  remained  with  Mosenna,  who  encamped  and  in- 
trenched- them,  and  sent  a  fleet  courier  to  the  Caliph,  entreat- 
ing instant  aid.    Nothing  saved  this  remnant  of  the  army 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  345 

from  utter  destruction  but  a  dissension  which  took  place  be- 
tween the  Persian  commanders,  who,  instead  of  following  up 
their  victory,  returned  to  Madayn,  the  Persian  capital. 

This  was  the  severest  and  almost  the  only  severe  check  that 
Moslem  audacity  had  for  a  long  time  experienced.  It  took 
place  in  the  13th  year  of  the  Hegira,  and  the  year  634  of  the 
Christian  era,  and  was  long  and  ruefully  remembered  by  the 
Arabs  as  the  battle  of  "El  Jisir,"  or  The  Battle  of  the  Bridge. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

MOSENNA  IBN  HARIS  RAVAGES  THE  COUNTRY  ALONG  THE  EU- 
PHRATES—DEATH OF  ARZEMIA — YEZDEGIRD  HI.  RAISED  TO  THE 
THRONE— SAAD  IBN  ABU  WAKKA.S  GIVEN  THE  GENERAL  COM- 
MAND—DEATH OF  MOSENNA— EMBASSY  TO  YEZDEGIRD— ITS  RE- 
CEPTION. 

Having  received  moderate  reinforcements,  Mosenna  again 
took  the  field  in  Arab  style,  hovering  about  the  confines  of 
Babylonia,  and  sending  detachments  in  different  directions  to 
plunder  and  lay  waste  the  country  bordering  on  the  Euphra- 
tes. It  was  an  instance  of  the  vicissitude  of  human  affairs, 
and  the  instability  of  earthly  grandeur,  that  this  proud  region, 
which  once  held  the  world  in  awe,  should  be  thus  marauded 
and  insulted  by  a  handful  of  predatory  Arabs. 

To  check  their  ravages,  Queen  Arzemia  sent  out  a  general 
named  Mahran,  with  twelve  thousand  chosen  cavalry.  Mo- 
senna, hearing  of  their  approach,  called  in  his  plundering 
parties  and  prepared  for  battle.  The  two  hosts  met  near 
Hirah,  on  the  borders  of  the  desert.  Mosenna,  who  in  the 
battle  of  the  bridge  had  been  the  last  man  to  retire,  was  now 
the  foremost  man  to  charge.  In  the  fury  of  the  fight  he  made 
his  way,  almost  alone,  into  the  heart  of  the  Persian  army,  and 
with  difficulty  fought  his  way  out  again  and  back  to  his  own 
men.  The  Persians,  as  we  have  noted,  were  chosen  troops, 
and  fought  with  unusual  spirit.  The  Moslems,  in  some  parts 
of  the  field,  began  to  give  way.  Mosenna  galloped  up  and 
threw  himself  before  them;  he  expostulated,  he  threatened,  he 
tore  his  beard  in  the  agony  of  his  feelings ;  he  succeeded  in 
leading  them  back  to  the  fight,  which  endured  from  noon  until 


346  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

sunset,  and  still  continued  doubtful.  At  the  close  of  the  day 
Mosenna  encountered  Mahran  hand  to  hand,  in  the  midst  of 
his  guards,  and  received  a  powerful  blow,  which  might  have 
proved  fatal  but  for  his  armor.  In  return  he  smote  the  Persian 
commander  with  his  scimetar  just  where  the  neck  joins  to  the 
shoulder,  and  laid  him  dead.  The  Persians,  seeing  their 
leader  fall,  took  to  flight,  nor  stopped  until  they  reached  Ma- 
dayn. 

The  Moslems  next  made  a  plundering  expedition  to  Bagdad, 
at  that  time  a  mere  village,  but  noted  for  a  great  fair,  the 
resort  of  merchants  from  various  parts  of  the  East.  An  Arab 
detachment  pounced  upon  it  at  the  time  of  the  fair,  and  car- 
ried off  many  captives  and  immense  booty. 

The  tidings  of  the  defeat  of  Mahran  and  the  plundering  of  the 
fair  spread  consternation  in  the  Persian  capital.  The  nobles 
and  priests,  who  had  hitherto  stood  in  awe  of  the  spirit  of  the 
queen,  now  raised  a  tumult.  "  These  are  the  fruits,"  said  they, 
"  of  having  a  woman  to  reign  over  us." 

The  fate  of  the  beautiful  Arzemia  was  hastened  by  private 
revenge.  Faruch-Zad,  one  of  the  most  powerful  of  her  nobles, 
and  governor  of  Khorassan,  incited  by  love  and  ambition,  had 
aspired  to  her  hand.  At  first,  it  is  said,  she  appeared  to  favor 
his  addresses,  fearing  to  provoke  his  enmity,  but  afterward 
slighted  them ;  whereupon  he  entered  the  palace  by  night,  and 
attempted  to  get  possession  of  her  person.  His  attempt  failed, 
and,  by  her  command,  he  received  instant  death  at  the  hands 
of  her  guards,  accompanied  by  some  indignities. 

His  son,  Rustam,  who  had  been  left  by  him  in  the  govern- 
ment of  Khorassan,  hastened,  at  the  head  of  an  armed  force, 
to  avenge  his  death.  He  arrived  in  the  height  of  the  public 
discontent ;  entered  the  city  without  opposition,  stormed  the 
palace,  captured  the  young  and  beautiful  queen,  subjected  her 
to  degrading  outrages,  and  put  her  to  death  in  the  most  cruel 
manner.  She  was  the  sixth  of  the  usurping  sovereigns,  and 
had  not  yet  reigned  a  year. 

A  remaining  son  of  Khosru  Parviz  was  now  brought  for- 
ward and  placed  on  the  slippery  throne,  but  was  poisoned 
within  forty  days,  some  say  by  his  courtiers,  others  by  a  slave. 

The  priests  and  nobles  now  elevated  a  youth  about  fifteen 
years  of  age  to  this  perilous  dignity.  He  was  a  grandson  of 
Khosru  Parviz,  and  had  been  secluded,  during  the  late  period 
of  anarchy  and  assassination,  in  the  city  of  Istakar,  the  an- 
cient Persepolis.     He  is  known  by  the  name  of  Yezdegird  III., 


MAHOMET  AND  niS  SUCCESSORS.  347 

though  some  historians  call  him  Hermisdas  IV.,  from  his 
family,  instead  of  his  personal  appellation.  He  was  of  a  good 
natural  disposition,  but  werk  and  irresolute,  and  apt,  from 
his  youth  and  inexperience,  to  become  a  passive  instrument  in 
the  hands  of  the  faction  which  had  placed  him  on  the  throne. 

One  of  the  first  measures  of  the  new  reign  was  to  assemble  a 
powerful  army  and  place  it  under  the  command  of  Rustam, 
the  same  general  who  had  so  signally  revenged  the  death  of  his 
father.  It  was  determined,  by  a  signal  blow,  to  sweep  the 
Arabian  marauders  from  the  land. 

Omar,  on  his  part,  hearing  of  the  changes  and  warlike  prep- 
arations in  the  Persian  capital,  made  a  hasty  levy  of  troops, 
and  would  have  marched  in  person  to  carry  the  war  into  the 
heart  of  Persia.  It  was  with  great  difficulty  he  was  dissuaded 
from  this  plan  by  his  discreet  counsellors,  Othman  and  Ali, 
and  induced  to  send  in  his  place  Saad  Ibn  Abu  Wakkas.  This 
was  a  zealous  soldier  of  the  faith  who  used  to  boast  that  he 
was  the  first  who  had  shed  the  blood  of  the  unbelieving,  and, 
moreover,  that  the  prophet,  in  the  first  holy  war,  had  in- 
trusted to  him  the  care  of  his  household  during  his  absence, 
saying,  "  To  you,  oh  Saad,  who  are  to  me  as  my  father  and  my 
mother,  I  confide  my  family."  To  have  been  a  favored  and 
confidential  companion  of  the  prophet  was  fast  growing  to  be 
a  title  of  great  distinction  among  the  faithful. 

Saad  was  invested  with  the  general  command  of  the  forces 
in  Persia ;  and  Mosenna,  though  his  recent  good  conduct  and 
signal  success  entitled  him  to  the  highest  consideration,  was 
ordered  to  serve  under  him. 

Saad  set  out  from  Medina  with  an  army  of  but  six  or  seven 
thousand  men;  among  these,  however,  were  one  thousand 
well-tried  soldiers  who  had  followed  the  prophet  in  his  cam- 
paigns, and  one  hundred  of  the  veterans  of  Beder.  They  were 
led  on  also  by  some  of  the  most  famous  champions  of  the  faith. 
The  army  was  joined  on  its  march  by  recruits  from  all  quar- 
ters, so  that  by  the  time  it  joined  the  troops  under  Mosenna  it 
amounted  to  upward  of  thirty  thousand  men. 

Mosenna  died  three  days  after  the  arrival  of  his  successor  in 
the  camp ;  the  cause  and  nature  of  his  death  are  not  mentioned. 
He  left  behind  him  a  good  name,  and  a  wife  remarkable  for 
her  beauty.  The  widow  was  easily  brought  to  listen  to  the 
addresses  of  Saad,  who  thus  succeeded  to  Mosenna  in  his  matri- 
monial as  well  as  his  military  capacity. 

The  Persian  force  under  Rustam  lay  encamped  at  Kadcsia 


348  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

(or  Kuddesiyah),  on  the  frontier  of  Sawad  or  Irak-Arabi,  and 
was  vastly  superior  in  numbers  to  the  Moslems.  Saad  sent 
expresses  to  the  Caliph  entreating  reinforcements.  He  was 
promised  them,  but  exhorted  in  the  mean  time  to  doubt  noth- 
ing ;  never  to  regard  the  number  of  the  foe,  but  to  think  always 
that  he  was  fighting  under  the  eye  of  the  Caliph.  He  was  in- 
structed, however,  before  commencing  hostilities,  to  send  a 
delegation  to  Yezdegird  inviting  him  to  embrace  the  faith. 

Saad  accordingly  sent  several  of  his  most  discreet  and  vete- 
ran officers  on  this  mission.  They  repaired  to  the  magnificent 
city  of  Madayn,  and  were  ushered  through  the  sumptuous  halls 
and  saloons  of  the  palace  of  the  Khosrus,  crowded  with  guards 
and  attendants  all  richly  arrayed,  into  the  presence  of  the 
youthful  monarch,  whom  they  found  seated  in  state  on  a 
throne,  supported  by  silver  columns,  and  surrounded  by  the 
dazzling  splendor  of  an  oriental  court. 

The  appearance  of  the  Moslem  envoys,  attired  in  simple 
Arab  style,  in  the  striped  garments  of  Yemen,  amidst  the  gor- 
geous throng  of  nobles  arrayed  in  jewels  and  embroidery,  was 
but  little  calculated  to  inspire  deference  in  a  young  and  incon- 
siderate prince,  brought  up  in  pomp  and  luxury,  and  accus- 
tomed to  consider  dignity  inseparable  from  splendor.  He  had 
no  doubt,  also,  been  schooled  for  the  interview  by  his  crafty 
counsellors. 

The  audience  opened  by  a  haughty  demand  on  his  part, 
through  his  interpreter,  as  to  the  object  of  their  embassy. 
Upon  this,  one  of  their  number,  Na'rnan  Ibn  Muskry,  set  forth 
the  divine  mission  of  the  prophet  and  his  dying  command  to 
enforce  his  religion  by  the  sword,  leaving  no  peaceable  alterna- 
tive to  unbelievers  but  conversion  or  tribute.  He  concluded 
by  inviting  the  king  to  embrace  the  faith ;  if  not,  to  consent  to 
become  a  tributary;  if  he  should  refuse  both,  to  prepare  for 
battle. 

Yezdegird  restrained  his  indignation,  and  answered  in  words 
which  had  probably  been  prepared  for  him.  "You  Arabs," 
said  he,  ' '  have  hitherto  been  known  to  us  by  report,  as  wan- 
derers of  the  desert ;  your  food  dates,  and  sometimes  lizards 
and  serpents;  your  drink  brackish^ water;  your  garments 
coarse  hair-cloth.  Some  of  you  who  by  chance  have  wandered 
into  our  realms  have  found  sweet  water,  savory  food,  and  soft 
raiment.  They  have  carried  back  word  of  the  same  to  their 
brethren  in  the  desert,  and  now  you  come  in  swarms  to  rob  us 
of  our  goods  and  our  very  land.     Ye  are  like  the  starving  fox, 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  849 

to  whom  the  husbandman  afforded  shelter  in  his  vineyard,  and 
who  in  return  brought  a  troop  of  his  brethren  to  devour  his 
grapes.  Eeceive  from  my  generosity  whatever  your  wants 
require ;  load  your  camels  with  com  and  dates,  and  depart  in 
peace  to  your  native  land ;  but  if  you  tarry  in  Persia,  beware 
the  fate  of  the  fox  who  was  slain  by  the  husbandman." 

The  most  aged  of  the  Arab  envoys,  the  Sheikh  Mukair  Ihn 
Zarrarah,  replied  with  great  gravity  and  decorum,  and  an  unal- 
tered countenance.  "  Oh  king!  all  thou  hast  said  of  the  Arabs 
is  most  true.  The  green  lizard  of  the  desert  was  their  some- 
time food ;  the  brackish  water  of  wells  their  drink ;  their  gar- 
ments were  of  hair-cloth,  and  they  buried  their  infant  daugh- 
ters to  restrain  the  increase  of  their  tribes.  All  this  was  in  the 
days  of  ignorance.  They  knew  not  good  from  evil.  They  were 
guilty,  and  they  suffered.  But  Allah  in  his  mercy  sent  his 
apostle  Mahomet,  and  his  sacred  Koran  among  them.  He  ren- 
dered them  wise  and  valiant.  He  commanded  them  to  war 
with  infidels  until  all  should  be  converted  to  the  true  faith. 
On  his  behest  we  come.  All  we  demand  of  thee  is  to  acknowl- 
edge that  there  is  no  God  but  God,  and  that  Mahomet  is  his 
apostle,  and  to  pay  from  thy  income  the  customary  contribu- 
tion of  the  Zacat,  paid  by  all  true  believers,  in  charity  to  the 
poor,  and  for  the  support  of  the  family  of  the  prophet.  Do 
this,  and  not  a  Moslem  shall  enter  the  Persian  dominions  with- 
out thy  leave ;  but  if  thou  refuse  it,  and  refuse  to  pay  the  tri- 
bute exacted  from  all  unbelievers,  prepare  for  the  subjugation 
of  the  sword. " 

The  forbearance  of  Yezdegird  was  at  an  end.  "  Were  it  not 
unworthy  of  a  great  Padischah,"  said  he,  "  to  put  ambassadors 
to  death,  the  sword  should  be  the  only  tongue  with  which  I 
would  reply  to  your  insolence.  Away !  ye  robbei*s  of  the  lands 
of  others!  take  with  ye  a  portion  of  the  Persian  soil  ye  crave." 
So  saying,  he  caused  sacks  of  earth  to  be  bound  upon  their 
shoulders ;  to  be  delivered  by  them  to  their  chiefs  as  symbols 
of  the  graves  they  would  be  sure  to  find  at  Kadesia. 

"When  beyond  the  limits  of  the  city,  the  envoys  transferred 
the  sacks  of  earth  to  the  backs  of  their  camels,  and  returned 
with  them  to  Saad  Ibn  Abu  Wakkas,  shrewdly  interpreting 
into  a  good  omen  what  had  been  intended  by  the  Persian  mon- 
arch as  a  scornful  taunt.  "  Earth,"  said  they,  "is  the  emblem 
of  empire.  As  surely,  oh  Saad,  as  we  deliver  thee  these  sacks 
of  earth,  so  surely  will  Allah  deliver  the  empire  of  Persia  into 
the  hands  of  true  believers." 


350  MAHOMET  AMD,  HIS  SUCVXSSOfiS. 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE  BATTLE   OP  K  AD  ESI  A. 

The  hostile  armies  came  in  presence  of  each  other  on  the 
plains  of  Kadesia  (or  Kadesiyah),  adjacent  to  a  canal  derived 
from  the  Euphrates.  The  huge  mass  of  the  Persian  army 
would  have  been  sufficient  to  bear  down  the  inferior  number 
of  the  Moslems,  had  it  possessed  the  Grecian  or  Roman  disci- 
pline; but  it  was  a  tumultuous  multitude,  unwieldy  from  its 
military  pomp,  and  encumbered  by  its  splendid  trappings. 
The  Arabs,  on  the  contrary,  were  veteran  skirmishers  of  the 
desert ;  light  and  hardy  horsemen ;  dexterous  with  the  bow  and 
lance,  and  skilled  to  wheel  and  retreat,  and  to  return  again  to 
the  attack.  Many  individual  acts  of  prowess  took  place  be- 
tween champions  of  either  army,  who  dared  each  other  to 
single  combat  in  front  of  the  hosts  when  drawn  out  in  battle 
array.  The  costly  armor  of  the  Persians,  wrought  with  gold, 
and  their  belts  or  girdles  studded  with  gems,  made  them  rich 
prizes  to  their  Moslem  victors ;  while  the  Persians,  if  victorioiis, 
gained  nothing  from  the  rudely  clad  warriors  of  the  desert  but 
honor  and  hard  blows. 

Saad  Ibn  Abu  Wakkas  was  in  an  unfortunate  plight  for  a 
leader  of  an  army  on  such  a  momentous  occasion.  He  was 
grievously  afflicted  with  boils  in  his  reins,  so  that  he  sat  on  his 
horse  with  extreme  difficulty.  Still  he  animated  his  troops  by 
his  presence,  and  gave  the  tekbir  or  battle-cry— Allah  Achbar ! 

The  Persian  force  came  on  with  great  shouts,  their  elephants 
in  the  van.  The  horses  of  the  Moslem  cavalry  recoiled  at  sight 
of  the  latter,  and  became  unmanageable.  A  great  number  of 
the  horsemen  dismounted,  attacked  the  unwieldy  animals 
with  their  swords,  and  drove  them  back  upon  their  own  host. 
Still  the  day  went  hard  with  the  Moslems ;  their  force  being  so 
inferior,  and  their  general  unable  to  take  the  lead  and  mingle 
in  the  battle.  The  arrival  of  a  reinforcement  from  Syria  put 
them  in  new  heart,  and  they  fought  on  until  the  approach  of 
night,  when  both  parties  desisted  and  drew  off  to  their  encamp- 
ments. Thus  ended  the  first  day's  fight,  which  the  Persians 
called  the  battle  of  Armath ;  but  the  Moslems,  The  Day  of  Suc- 
cor, from  the  timely  arrival  of  reinforcements. 

On  the  following  morning  the  armies  drew  out  again  in  bat- 


MA  no  MET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  35 1 

tie  array,  but  no  general  conflict  took  place.  Saad  was  unable 
to  mount  Ins  horse  and  lead  his  troops  into  action,  and  the 
Persians,  aware  of  the  reinforcements  received  by  the  Mos- 
lems, were  not  disposed  to  provoke  a  battle.  The  day  passed 
in  light  skirmishes  and  single  combats  between  the  prime  war 
riors  of  either  host,  who  defied  each  other  to  trials  of  skill  and 
prowess.  These  combats,  of  course,  were  desperate,  and  com- 
monly cost  the  life  of  one,  if  not  both  of  the  combatants. 

Saad  overlooked  the  field  from  the  shelter  of  a  tent,  where 
he  sat  at  a  repast  with  his  beautiful  bride  beside  him.  Her 
heart  swelled  with  grief  at  seeing  so  many  gallant  Moslems 
laid  low ;  a  thought  of  the  valiant  husband  she  had  lost  passed 
across  her  mind,  and  the  unwary  ejaculation  escaped  her, 
"Alas!  Mosenna  Ibn  Haris,  where  art  thou?"  Saad  was  stung 
to  the  quick  by  what  he  conceived  a  reproach  on  his  courage 
or  activity,  and  in  the  heat  of  the  moment  struck  her  on  the 
face  with  his  dagger.  "To-morrow,"  muttered  he  to  himself, 
"I  will  mount  my  horse." 

In  the  night  he  secretly  sent  out  a  detachment  in  the  direc- 
tion of  Damascus,  to  remain  concealed  until  the  two  armies 
should  be  engaged  on  the  following  day,  and  then  to  come 
with  banners  displayed,  and  a  great  sound  of  drum  and  trum- 
pet, as  though  they  were  a  reinforcement  hurrying  to  the  field 
of  action. 

The  morning  dawned,  but  still,  to  his  great  mortification, 
Saad  was  unable  to  sit  upon  his  horse,  and  had  to  entrust  the 
conduct  of  the  battle  to  one  of  his  generals.  It  was  a  day  of 
bloody  and  obstinate  conflict ;  and  from  the  tremendous  shock 
of  the  encountering  hosts  was  celebrated  among  the  Arabs  as 
"  The  day  of  the  Concussion." 

The  arrival  of  the  pretended  reinforcement  inspirited  the 
Moslems,  who  were  ignorant  of  the  stratagem,  and  dismayed 
the  enemy.  Rustam  urged  on  his  elephants  to  break  down  the 
Arab  host,  but  they  had  become  familiar  with  those  animals, 
and  attacked  them  so  vigorously  that,  as  before,  they  turned 
upon  their  own  employers  and  trampled  them  down  in  their 
unwieldy  flight  from  the  field.  * 

The  battle  continued  throughout  the  day  with  varying  for- 
tune; nor  did  it  cease  at  nightfall,  for  Rustam  rode  about 
among  his  troops  urging  them  to  fight  until  morning.  That 
night  was  called  by  some  the  night  of  delirium ;  for  in  the  dark 
and  deadly  struggle  the  combatants  struck  at  random,  and 
often  caught  each  other  by  the  beard ;  by  others  it  was  called 


352  MAHOMET  AND  BIS  SUCCESSORS. 

the  night  of  howling  and  lamentation,  from  the  cries  of  the 
wounded. 

The  battle  ceased  not  even  at  the  dawning,  but  continued 
until  the  heat  of  the  day.  A  whirlwind  of  dust  hid  the  armies 
from  each  other  for  a  time,  and  produced  confusion  on  the 
field,  but  it  aided  the  Moslems,  as  it  blew  in  the  faces  of  the 
enemy.  During  a  pause  in  the  conflict,  Rustam,  panting  with 
heat  and  fatigue,  and  half  blinded  with  dust,  took  shelter  from 
the  sun  under  a  tent  which  had  been  pitched  near  the  water, 
and  was  surrounded  by  camels  laden  with  treasure,  and  with  the 
luxurious  furniture  of  the  camp.  A  gust  of  wind  whirled  the 
tent  into  the  water.  He  then  threw  himself  upon  the  earth  in 
the  shade  of  one  of  the  camels.  A  band  of  Arab  soldiers  came 
upon  him  by  surprise.  One  of  them,  Hellal  Ibn  Alkameh  by 
name,  in  his  eagerness  for  plunder,  cut  the  cords  which  bound 
the  burden  on  the  camel.  A  package  of  silver  fell  upon  Rustam 
and  broke  his  spine.  In  his  agony  he  fell  or  threw  himself  into 
the  water,  but  was  drawn  out  by  the  leg,  his  head  stricken  off, 
and  elevated  on  the  lance  of  Hellal.  The  Persians  recognized 
the  bloody  features,  and  fled  amain,  abandoning  to  the  victors 
their  camp,  with  all  its  rich  furniture  and  baggage,  and  scores 
of  beasts  of  burden,  laden  with  treasure  and  with  costly  gear. 
The  amount  of  booty  was  incalculable. 

The  sacred  standard,  too,  was  among  the  spoils.  To  the  sol* 
dier  who  had  captured  it,  thirty  thousand  pieces  of  gold  are 
said  to  have  been  paid  at  Saad's  command;  and  the  jewels 
with  which  it  was  studded  were  put  with  the  other  booty,  to 
be  shared  according  to  rule.  Hellal,  too,  who  brought  the 
head  of  Rustam  to  Saad,  was  allowed  as  a  reward  to  strip  the 
body  of  his  victim.  Never  did  Arab  soldier  make  richer  spoil. 
The  garments  of  Rustam  were  richly  embroidered,  and  he 
wore  two  gorgeous  belts,  ornamented  with  jewels,  one  worth 
a  thousand  pieces  of  gold,  the  other  seventy  thousand  dirhems 
of  silver. 

Thirty  thousand  Persians  are  said  to  have  fallen  in  this  bat- 
tle, and  upward  of  seven  thousand  Moslems.  The  loss  most 
deplored  by  the  Persians  was  that  of  their  sacred  banner,  with 
which  they  connected  the  fate  of  the  "realm. 

This  battle  took  place  in  the  fifteenth  year  of  the  Hegira,  and 
the  six  hundred  and  thirty-sixth  year  of  the  Christian  era, 
and  is  said  to  be  as  famous  among  the  Arabs  as  that  of  Arbela 
among  the  Greeks. 

Complaints  having  circulated  among  the  troops  that  Saad 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  353 

had  not  mingled  in  the  fight,  he  summoned  several  of  the  old 
men  to  his  tent,  and,  stripping  himself,  showed  the  hoils  by 
which  he  was  so  grievously  afflicted ;  after  which  there  were 
no  further  expressions  of  dissatisfaction.  It  is  to  be  hoped  he 
found  some  means,  equally  explicit,  of  excusing  himself  to  his 
beautiful  bride  for  the  outrage  he  had  committed  upon  her. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

FOUNDING    OF    BASSORA— CAPTURE    OF    THE    PERSIAN    CAPITAL- 
FLIGHT  OF  YEZDEGIRD  TO   HOLWAN. 

After  the  signal  victory  of  Kadesia,  Saad  Ibn  Abu  Wakkas, 
by  command  of  the  Caliph,  remained  for  some  months  in  the 
neighborhood,  completing  the  subjugation  of  the  conquered 
country,  collecting  tax  and  tribute,  and  building  mosques  in 
every  direction  for  the  propagation  of  the  faith.  About  the 
same  time  Omar  caused  the  city  of  Basra,  or  Bassora,  to  be 
founded  in  the  lower  part  of  Irak  Arabi,  on  that  great  river 
formed  by  the  junction  of  the  Euphrates  and  the  Tigris.  This 
city  was  intended  to  protect  the  region  conquered  by  the  Mos- 
lems about  the  mouth  of  the  Euphrates ;  to  cut  off  the  trade 
of  India  from  Persia,  and  to  keep  a  check  upon  Anwaz  (a  part 
of  Susiana  or  Khusestan),  the  prince  or  satrap  of  which,  Hor- 
musan  by  name,  had  taken  an  active  part  in  the  late  battle  of 
Kadesia.  The  city  of  Bassora  was  founded  in  the  fourteenth 
year  of  the  Hegira,  by  Orweh  Ibn  Otbeh.  It  soon  gathered 
within  its  walls  great  numbers  of  inhabitants  from  the  sur- 
rounding country;  rose  rapidly  in  importance,  and  has  ever 
since  been  distinguished  as  a  mart  for  the  Indian  commerce. 

Having  brought  all  the  country  in  the  neighborhood  of  Ka- 
desia into  complete  subjection,  Saad  Ibn  Abu  Wakkas,  by 
command  of  the  Caliph,  proceeded  in  the  conquest  of  Persia. 
The  late  victories,  and  the  capture  of  the  national  banner,  had 
struck  despair  into  the  hearts  of  the  Persians.  They  con- 
sidered the  downfall  of  their  religion  and  empire  at  hand,  and 
for  a  time  made  scarcely  any  resistance  to  the  invaders.  Cities 
and  strongholds  surrendered  almost  without  a  blow.  Babel  is 
incidentally  enumerated  among  the  captured  places;  but  the 
once  all-powerful  Babylon  was  now  shrunk  into  such  insignifi- 


354  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

cance  that  its  capture  seemed  not  worthy  of  a  boast.  Saad 
crossed  the  Tigris  and  advanced  upon  Madayn,  the  Persian 
capital.  His  army,  on  departing  from  Kadesia,  had  not 
exceeded  twenty  thousand  men,  having  lost  many  by  battle 
and  more  by  disease.  Multitudes,  however,  from  the  subju- 
gated cities,  and  from  other  parts,  joined  his  standard  while 
on  the  march,  so  that,  as  he  approached  Madayn,  his  forces 
amounted  to  sixty  thousand  men. 

There  was  abundance  of  troops  in  Madayn,  the  wrecks  of 
vanquished  armies  and  routed  garrisons,  but  there  was  no  one 
capable  or  willing  to  take  the  general  command.  All  seemed 
paralyzed  by  their  fears.  The  king  summoned  his  counsellors 
about  him,  but  their  only  advice  was  to  fly.  ' '  Khorassan  and 
Kerman  are  still  yours,"  said  they;  "let  us  depart  while  we 
may  do  so  in  safety ;  why  should  we  remain  here  to  be  made 
captives?" 

Yezdegird  hesitated  to  take  this  craven  advice;  but  more 
from  weakness  and  indecision  of  character  than  from  any 
manly  repugnance.  He  wavered  and  lingered,  until  what 
might  have  been  an  orderly  retreat  became  a  shameful  flight. 
When  the  invaders  were  within  one  day's  march  of  his  capi- 
tal he  ordered  his  valuables  to  be  packed  upon  beasts  of  burden, 
and  set  off,  with  a  worthless  retinue  of  palace  minions,  attend- 
ants, and  slaves,  male  and  female,  for  Holwan,  at  the  foot  of 
the  Medean  hills.  His  example  was  followed  throughout  the 
city.  There  was  hurry  and  tumult  in  every  part.  Fortunate 
was  he  who  had  a  camel,  or  a  horse,  or  an  ass,  to  load  with  his 
most  valuable  effects;  such  as  were  not  so  provided,  took  what 
they  could  on  their  shoulders ;  but,  in  such  a  hasty  and  panic- 
stricken  flight,  where  personal  safety  was  the  chief  concern, 
little  could  be  preserved;  the  greater  part  of  their  riches  re- 
mained behind.  Thus,  the  wealthy  Madayn,  the  once  famous 
Ctesiphon,  which  had  formerly  repulsed  a  Roman  army, 
though  furnished  with  battering  rams  and  other  warlike 
engines,  was  abandoned  without  a  blow  at  the  approach  of 
these  nomad  warriors. 

As  Saad  entered  the  deserted  city  he  gazed  with  wonder  and 
admiration  at  its  stately  edifices,  surrounded  by  vineyards  and 
gardens,  all  left  to  his  mercy  by  the  flying  owners.  In  pious 
exultation  he  repeated  aloud  a  passage  of  the  Koran,  allud 
to  the  abandonment  by  Pharoah  and  his  troops  of  th.eir  habita- 
tions, when  they  went  in  pursuit  of  the  children  of  Israel. 
"How  many  gardens  and  fountains,  and  fields  of  corn  and 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  355 

fair  dwellings,  and  other  sources  of  delight,  did  they  leave 
behind  them!  Thus  we  dispossessed  them  thereof,  and  gave 
the  same  for  an  inheritance  to  another  people.  Neither  heaven 
nor  earth  wept  for  them.    They  were  unpitied."  * 

The  deserted  city  was  sacked  and  pillaged.  One  may  imag- 
ine the  sacking  of  such  a  place  by  the  ignorant  hordes  of  the 
desert.  The  rude  Arabs  beheld  themselves  surrounded  by 
treasures  beyond  their  conception ;  works  of  art,  the  value  of 
which  they  could  not  appreciate,  and  articles  of  luxury  which 
moved  their  ridicule  rather  than  their  admiration.  In  roving 
through  the  streets  they  came  to  the  famous  palace  of  the  Khos- 
rus,  begun  by  Khobad  Ibn  Firuz,  and  finished  by  his  son  Nush- 
irwan,  constructed  of  polished  marble,  and  called  the  white 
palace,  from  its  resplendent  appearance.  As  they  gazed  at  it 
in  wonderment,  they  called  to  mind  the  prediction  of  Ma- 
homet, when  he  heard  that  the  haughty  monarch  of  Persia 
had  torn  his  letter :  "Even  so  shall  Allah  rend  his  empire  in 
pieces."  "  Behold  the  white  palace  of  Khosru,"  cried  the  Mos- 
lems to  one  another!  "This  is  the  fulfilment  of  the  prophecy 
of  the  apostle  of  God !" 

Saad  entered  the  -lofty  portal  of  the  palace  with  feelings  of 
devotion.  His  first  act  was  to  make  his  salaam  and  prostra- 
tions, and  pronounce  the  confession  of  faith  in  its  deserted 
balls.  He  then  took  note  of  its  contents,  and  protected  it  from 
the  ravage  of  the  soldiery,  by  making  it  his  headquarters.  It 
was  furnished  throughout  with  oriental  luxury.  It  had  ward- 
robes filled  with  gorgeous  apparel.  In  the  armory  were  weap- 
ons of  all  kinds,  magnificently  wrought ;  a  coat  of  mail  and 
sword,  for  state  occasions,  bedecked  with  jewels  of  incalculable 
value ;  a  silver  horseman  on  a  golden  horse,  and  a  golden  rider 
on  a  silver  camel,  all  likewise  studded  with  jewels. 

In  the  vaults  were  treasures  of  gold  and  silver  and  precious 
stones ;  with  money,  the  vast  amount  of  which,  though  stated 
by  Arabian  historians,  we  hesitate  to  mention. 

In  some  of  the  apartments  were  gold  and  silver  vessels  filled 
with  oriental  perfumes.  In  the  magazines  were  stored  ex- 
quisite spices,  odoriferous  gums,  and  medicinal  drugs.  Among 
the  latter  were  quantities  of  camphor,  which  the  Arabs  mis- 
took for  salt  and  mixed  with  their  food. 

In  one  of  the  chambers  was  a  silken  carpet  of  great  size, 
which  the.  king  used  in  winter.     Art  and  expense  had  been 

*  Koran,  chapter  24. 


356  MAIIOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

lavished  upon  it.  It  was  made  to  represent  a  garden.  The 
leaves  of  the  plants  were  emeralds ;  the  flowers  were  embroid- 
ered in  their  natural  colors,  with  pearls  and  jewels  and  pre- 
cious stones ;  the  fountains  were  wrought  with  diamonds  and 
sapphires,  to  represent  the  sparkling  of  their  waters.  The 
value  of  the  whole  was  beyond  calculation. 

The  hall  of  audience  surpassed  every  other  part  in  magnifi- 
cence. The  vaulted  roof,  says  D'Herbolot,  resembled  a  firma- 
ment decked  with  golden  spheres,  each  with  a  corresponding 
movement,  so  as  to  represent  the  planets  and  the  signs  of  the 
zodiac.  The  throne  was  of  prodigious  grandeur,  supported  on 
silver  columns.  Above  it  was  the  crown  of  Khosru  Nashir- 
wan,  suspended  by  a  golden  chain  to  bear  the  immense  weight 
of  its  jewels,  but  contrived  to  appear  as  if  on  the  head  of  the 
monarch  when  seated. 

A  mule  is  said  to  have  been  overtaken,  on  which  a  trusty 
officer  of  the  palace  was  bearing  away  some  of  the  jewels  of 
the  crown,  the  tiara  or  diadem  of  Yezdegird,  with  his  belt  and 
scimetar  and  bracelets. 

Saad  appointed  Omar  Ibn  Muskry  to  take  charge  of  all  the 
spoils  for  regular  distribution,  and  criers  were  sent  about  to 
make  proclamation  that  the  soldiers  should  render  in  their 
booty  to  that  officer.  Such  was  the  enormous  amount  that, 
after  a  fifth  had  been  set  apart  for  the  Caliph,  the  remainder, 
divided  among  sixty  thousand  men,  gave  each  of  them  twelve 
hundred  dirhems  of  silver. 

It  took  nine  hundred  heavily  laden  camels  to  convey  to 
Medina  the  Caliph's  fifth  of  the  spoil,  among  which  the 
carpet,  the  clothing,  and  regalia  of  the  king  were  included. 
The  people  of  Medina,  though  of  late  years  accustomed  to  the 
rich  booty  of  the  armies,  were  astonished  at  such  an  amount 
of  treasure.  Omar  ordered  that  a  mosque  should  be  built  of 
part  of  the  proceeds.  A  consultation  was  held  over  the  royal 
carpet,  whether  it  should  be  stored  away  in  the  public  treasury 
to  be  used  by  the  Caliph  on  state  occasions,  or  whether  it 
should  be  included  in  the  booty  to  be  shared. 

Omar  hesitated  to  decide  with  hisjisual  promptness,  and 
referred  the  matter  to  Ali.  "Oh,  prince  of  true  believers!" 
exclaimed  the  latter;  "how  can  one  of  thy  clear  perception 
doubt  in  this  matter?  In  the  world,  nothing  is  thine  but  what 
thou  expendest  in  well-doing.  What  thou  wearest  will  be  worn 
out ;  what  thou  eatest  will  be  consumed ;  but  that  which  thou 
expendest  in  well-doing  is  sent  before  thee  to  the  other  world." 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  357 

Omar  determined  that  the  carpet  should  be  shared  among 
his  chiefs.  He  divided  it  literally,  with  rigid  equity,  cutting 
it  up  without  regard  to  the  skUl  and  beauty  of  the  design,  or 
its  value  as  an  entire  piece  of  workmanship.  Such  was  the 
richness  of  the  materials,  that  the  portion  allotted  to  Ali  alone 
sold  for  eight  thousand  dirhems  of  silver. 

This  signal  capture  of  the  capital  of  Persia  took  place  in  the 
month  Safar,  in  the  sixteenth  year  of  the  Hegira,  and  the  year 
037  of  the  Christian  era ;  the  same  year  with  the  capture  of 
Jerusalem.  The  fame  of  such  immense  spoil,  such  treasures 
of  art,  in  the  hands  of  ignorant  Arab  soldiery,  summoned  the 
crafty  and  the  avaricious  from  all  quarters.  All  the  world,  it 
is  said,  nocked  from  the  West,  from  Yemen,  and  from  Egypt, 
to  purchase  the  costly  stuffs,  captured  from  the  Persians. 
It  was  like  the  vultures,  winging  their  way  from  all  parts  of 
the  heavens,  to  gorge  on  the  relics  of  a  hunting  camp. 


CHAPTEK  XXIX. 


CAPTUEE  OF  JALULA— FLIGHT  OF  YEZDEGIRD  TO  REI — FOUNDING 
OF  CTTFA — SAAD  RECEIVES  A  SEVERE  REBUKE  FROM  THE  CA- 
LIPH FOR  HIS  MAGNIFICENCE. 

Saad  Ibn  Abu  Wake  as  would  fain  have  pursued  Yezdegird 
to  Holwan,  among  the  hills  of  ancient  Medea,  where  he  had 
taken  refuge ;  but  he  was  restrained  by  the  Caliph  Omar,  who 
kept  a  cautious  check  from  Medina  upon  his  conquering  gen- 
erals ;  f earfid  that  in  the  flush  and  excitement  of  victory  they 
might  hurry  forward  beyond  the  reach  of  succor.  By  the 
command  of  Omar,  therefore,  he  remained  with  his  main 
army  in  Madayn,  and  sent  his  brother  Hashem  with  twelve 
thousand  men  in  pursuit  of  the  fugitive  monarch.  Hashem 
found  a  large  force  of  Persians,  relics  of  defeated  armies,  as- 
sembled in  Jalula,  not  far  from  Holwan,  where  they  were  dis- 
posed to  make  a  stand.  He  laid  siege  to  the  place,  but  it  was 
of  great  strength  and  maintained  a  brave  and  obstinate 
defence  for  six  months,  during  which  there  were  eighty  as- 
ilts.  At  length,  the  garrison  being  reduced  by  famine  and 
incessant  fighting,  and  the  commander  slain,  it  surrendered. 

Yezdegird  on  hearing  of  the  capture  of  Jalula  abandoned  the 


358  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

city  of  Holwan,  leaving  troops  there  under  a  general  named 
Habesh,  to  check  the  pursuit  or  the  enemy.  The  place  of 
refuge  which  he  now  sought  was  the  city  of  Rei,  or  Eai,  the 
Rhages  of  Arrian;  the  Rhaga  and  Rhageia  of  the  Greek  geog- 
raphers; a  city  of  remote  antiquity,  contemporary,  it  is  said, 
with  Nineveh  and  Ecbatana,  and  mentioned  in  the  book  of 
Tobit;  who,  we  are  told,  travelled  from  Nineveh  to  Rages,  a 
city  of  Medea.  It  was  a  favorite  residence  of  the  Parthian 
kings  in  days  of  yore.  In  his  flight  though  the  mountains  the 
monarch  was  borne  on  a  chair  or  litter  between  mules;  travel- 
ling a  station  each  day  and  sleeping  in  the  litter.  Habesh, 
whom  he  had  left  behind,  was  soon  defeated,  and  followed  him 
in  his  flight. 

Saad  again  wrote  to  the  Caliph,  urging  that  he  might  be 
permitted  to  follow  the  Persian  king  to  his  place  of  refuge 
among  the  mountains,  before  he  should  bave  time  to  assemble 
another  army;  but  he  again  met  with  a  cautious  check. 
"You  have  this  year,"  said  the  Caliph,  "taken  Sawad  and 
Irak;  for  Holwan  is  at  the  extremity  of  Irak.  That  is  enough 
for  the  present.  The  welfare  of  true  believers  is  of  more  value 
than  booty."    So  ended  the  sixteenth  year  of  the  Hegira. 

The  climate  of  Madayn  proving  unhealthy  to  his  troops,  and 
Saad  wishing  to  establish  a  fortified  camp  in  the  midst  of  his 
victories,  was  ordered  by  the  Caliph  to  seek  some  favorable 
site  on  the  western  side  of  the  Euphrates,  where  there  was 
good  air,  a  well-watered  plain  and  plenty  of  grass  for  the 
camels;  things  highly  appreciated  by  the  Arabs. 

Saad  chose  for  the  purpose  the  village  of  Cufa,  which,  accord- 
ing to  Moslem  tradition,  was  the  spot  where  Noah  embarked 
in  the  ark.  The  Arabs  further  pretend  that  the  serpent  after 
tempting  Eve  was  banished  to  this  place.  Hence,  they  say, 
the  guile  and  treachery  for  which  the  men  of  Cufa  are  prover- 
bial. This  city  became  so  celebrated  that  the  Euphrates  was  at 
one  time  generally  denominated  GaharCufa,  or  the  river  of 
Cufa.  The  most  ancient  characters  of  the  Arabic  alphabet 
are  termed  Cufic  to  the  present  day. 

In  building  Cufa,  much  of  the  stone,  marble,  and  timber  for 
the  principal  edifices  were  furnished  from  the  ruins  of  Madayn ; 
there  being  such  a  scarcity  of  those  materials  in  Babylonia  and 
its  vicinity  that  the  houses  were  generally  constructed  of 
bricks  baked  in  the  sun  and  cemented  with  bitumen.  It  used 
to  be  said,  therefore,  that  the  army  on  its  remove  took  with  it 
all  the  houses  of  Sawad.    Saad  Ibn  Abu  Wakkas,  who  appears 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  359 

to  have  imbibed  a  taste  for  Persian  splendor,  erected  a  sump- 
tuous Kiosk  or  summer  residence,  and  decorated  it  with  a 
grand  portal  taken  from  the  palace  of  the  Khosrus  at  Madayn. 
When  Omar  heard  of  this  he  was  sorely  displeased,  his  great 
apprehension  being  that  his  generals  would  lose  the  good  old 
Arab  simplicity  of  manners  in  the  luxurious  countries  they 
were  conquering.  He  forthwith  dispatched  a  trusty  envoy, 
Mahomet' Ibn  Muslemah,  empowered  to  give  Saad  a  salutary 
rebuke.  On  arriving  at  Cufa,  Mahomet  caused  a  great  quan- 
tity of  wood  to  be  heaped  against  the  door  of  the  Kiosk  and  set 
fire  to  it.  When  Saad  came  forth  in  amazement  at  this  out- 
rage, Mahomet  put  into  his  hands  the  following  letter  from  the 
Caliph: 

' '  I  am  told  thou  hast  built  a  lofty  palace,  like  to  that  of  the 
Khosrus,  and  decorated  it  with  a  door  taken  from  the  latter, 
with  a  view  to  have  guards  and  chamberlains  stationed  about 
it  to  keep  off  those  who  may  come  in  quest  of  justice  or  assist- 
ance, as  was  the  practice  of  the  Khosrus  before  thee.  In  so 
doing  thou  hast  departed  from  the  ways  of  the  prophet  (on 
whom  be  benedictions),  and  hast  fallen  into  the  ways  of  the 
Persian  monarchs.  Know  that  the  Khosrus  have  passed 
from  their  palace  to  the  tomb;  while  the  prophet,  from  his 
lowly  habitation  on  earth,  has  been  elevated  to  the  highest 
heaven.  I  have  sent  Mahomet  Ibn  Muselmah  to  burn  thy  pal- 
ace. In  this  world  two  houses  are  sufficient  for  thee — one  to 
dwell  in,  the  other  to  contain  the  treasure  of  the  Moslem." 

Saad  was  too  wary  to  make  any  opposition  to  the  orders  of 
the  stern -minded  Omar ;  so  he  looked  on  without  a  murmur  as 
his  stately  Kiosk  was  consumed  by  the  flames.  He  even 
offered  Mahomet  presents,  which  the  latter  declined,  and  re- 
turned to  Medina.  Saad  removed  to  a  different  part  of  the 
city,  and  built  a  more  modest  mansion  for  himself,  and  an- 
other for  the  treasury. 

In  the  same  year  with  the  founding  of  Cufa  the  Caliph  Omar 
married  Omm  Kolsam,  the  daughter  of  Ali  and  Fatima,  and 
granddaughter  of  the  prophet.  This  drew  him  in  still  closer 
bonds  of  friendship  and  confidence  with  Mi,  who  with  Othman 
shared  his  councils,  and  aided  him  in  managing  from  Medina 
the  rapidly  accumulating  affairs  of  the  Moslem  empire. 

It  must  be  always  noted,  that  however  stern  and  strict  may 
appear  the  laws  and  ordinances  of  Omar,  he  was  rigidly  im- 
partial in  enforcing  them;  and  one  of  his  own  sons,  having 
been  found  intoxicated,  received  the  twenty  bastinadoes  on 


360  MAHOMET  AND  UIS  SUCCESSORS. 

the  soles  of  the  feet,  which  he  had  decreed  for  offences  of  the 
kind. 


CHAPTEE  XXX. 


WAR  WITH    HORMUZAN,    THE  SATRAP    OF  AHWAZ — HIS  CONQUEST 

AND   CONVERSION. 

The  founding  of  the  city  of  Bassora  had  given  great  annoy- 
ance and  uneasiness  to  Hormuzan,  the  satrap  or  viqeroy  of 
Ahwaz,  or  Susiana.  His  province  lay  between  Babylonia  and 
Farsistan,  and  he  saw  that  this  rising  city  of  the  Arabs  was  in- 
tended as  a  check  upon  him.  His  province  was  one  of  the 
richest  and  most  important  of  Persia,  producing  cotton,  rice, 
sugar,  and  wheat.  It  was  studded  with  cities,  which  the  his- 
torian Tabari  compared  to  a  cluster  of  stars.  In  the  centre 
stood  the  metropolis  Susa,  one  of  the  royal  resorts  of  the  Per- 
sian kings,  celebrated  in  scriptural  history,  and  said  to  possess 
the  tomb  of  the  prophet  Daniel.  It  was  once  adorned  with 
palaces  and  courts,  and  parks  of  prodigious  extent,  though  now 
all  is  a  waste,  ' '  echoing  only  to  the  roar  of  the  lion,  or  yell  of 
the  hyena." 

Here  Hormuzan,  the  satrap,  emulated  the  state  and  luxury 
of  a  king.  He  was  of  a  haughty  spirit,  priding  himself  upon 
his  descent,  his  ancestors  having  once  sat  on  the  throne  of 
Persia.  For  this  reason  his  sons,  being  of  the  blood  royal, 
were  permitted  to  wear  crowns,  though  of  smaller  size  than 
those  worn  by  kings,  and  his  family  was  regarded  with  great 
deference  by  the  Persians. 

This  haughty  satrap,  not  rendered  wary  by  the  prowess  of 
the  Moslem  arms,  which  he  had  witnessed  and  experienced  at 
Kadesia,  made  preparations  to  crush  the  rising  colony  of  Bas- 
sora. The  founders  of  that  city  called  on  the  Caliph  for  pro- 
tection, and  troops  were  marched  to  their  assistance  from  Me- 
dina, and  from  the  headquarters  of  Saad  at  Cufa.  Hormuzan 
soon  had  reason  to  repent  his  having  provoked  hostilities.  He 
was  defeated  in  repeated  battles,  and  at  length  was  glad  to 
make  peace  with  the  loss  of  half  of  his  territories,  and  all  but 
four  of  his  cluster  of  cities.  He  was  not  permitted  long  to  en- 
joy even  this  remnant  of  domain.  Yezdegird,  from  his  re- 
treat at  Rei,  reproached  Hormuzan  and  the  satrap  of  the  adja- 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  361 

cent  province  of  Farsistan,  for  not  co-operating  to  withstand 
the  Moslems.  At  his  command  they  united  their  forces,  and 
Hormuzan  broke  the  treaty  of  peace  which  he  had  so  recently 
concluded. 

The  devotion  of  Hormuzan  to  his  fugitive  sovereign  ended  in 
his  ruin.  The  Caliph  ordered  troops  to  assemble  from  tho 
different  Moslem  posts,  and  complete  the  conquest  of  Ahwaz. 
Hormuzan  disputed  his  territory  bravely,  but  was  driven  from 
place  to  place,  until  he  made  his  last  stand  in  the  fortress  of 
Ahwaz,  or  Susa.  For  six  months  he  was  beleaguered,  during 
which  time  there  were  many  sanies  and  assaults,  and  hard 
fighting  on  both  sides.  At  length,  Bara  Ibn  Malek  was  sent 
to  take  command  of  the  besiegers.  He  had  been  an  especial 
favorite  of  the  prophet,  and  there  was  a  superstitious  feeling 
concerning  him.  He  manifested  at  all  times  an  indifference  to 
life  or  death;  always  pressed  forward  to  the  place  of  danger, 
and  every  action  in  which  he  served  was  successful. 

On  his  taking  the  command,  his  troops  gathered  round  him. 
"Oh  Bara!  swear  to  overthrow  these  infidels,  and  the  Most 
High  will  favor  us." 

Bara,  swore  that  the  place  would  be  taken,  and  the  infidels 
put  to  flight,  but  that  he  would  fall  a  martyr. 

In  the  very  next  assaidt  he  was  killed  by  an  arrow  sped  by 
Hormuzan.  The  army  took  his  death  as  a  good  omen.  "  One 
half  of  his  oath  is  fulfilled,"  said  they,  "and  so  will  be  the 
other." 

Shortly  afterward  a  Persian  traitor  came  to  Abu  Shebrah, 
who  had  succeeded  to  the  Moslem  command,  and  revealed  a 
secret  entrance  by  a  conduit  under  the  castle,  by  which  it  was 
supplied  with  water.  A  hundred  Moslems  entered  it  by  night, 
threw  open  the  outward  gates,  and  let  in  the  army  into  the 
court-yards.  Hormuzan  was  ensconced,  however,  in  a  strong 
tower,  or  keep,  from  the  battlements  of  which  he  held  a  parley 
with  the  Moslem  commander.  "I  have  a  thousand  expert 
archers  with  me,"  said  he,  "who  never  miss  their  aim.  By 
every  arrow  they  discharge  you  will  lose  a  man.  Avoid  this 
useless  sacrifice.  Let  me  depart  in  honor;  give  me  safe 
conduct  to  the  Caliph,  and  let  him  dispose  of  me  as  he 
pleases." 

It  was  agreed.  Hormuzan  was  treated  with  respect  as  he 
issued  from  his  fortress,  and  was  sent  under  an  escort  to 
Medina.  He  maintained  the  air  of  one  not  conducted  as  a 
prisoner,  but  attended  by  a  guard  of  honor.     As  he  approached 


362  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

the  city  he  halted,  arrayed  himself  in  sumptuous  apparel,  with 
his  jewelled  belt  and  regal  crown,  and  in  this  guise  entered  tho 
gates.  The  inhabitants  gazed  in  astonishment  at  such  un- 
wonted luxury  of  attire. 

Omar  was  not  at  his  dwelling ;  he  had  gone  to  the  mosque. 
Hormuzan  was  conducted  thither.  On  approaching  the  sacred 
edifice,  the  Caliph's  cloak  was  seen  hanging  against  the  wall, 
while  he  himself,  arrayed  in  patched  garments,  lay  asleep  with 
his  staff  under  his  head.  The  officei-s  of  the  escort  seated 
themselves  at  a  respectful  distance  until  he  should  awake. 
"This,"  whispered  they  to  Hormuzan,  "is  the  prince  of  true 
believers." 

" This  the  Arab  king !"  said  the  astonished  satrap;  "and  is 
this  his  usual  attire?"  "It  is."  "And  does  he  sleep  thus 
without  guards?"  "He  does;  he  comes  and  goes  alone;  and 
lies  down  and  sleeps  where  he  pleases."  "And  can  he  adminis- 
ter justice,  and  conduct  affairs  without  officers  and  messengers 
and  attendants?"  "Even  so,"  was  the  reply.  "This,"  ex- 
claimed Hormuzan,  at  length,  ' '  is  the  condition  of  a  prophet, 
but  not  of  a  king."  "He  is  not  a  prophet,"  was  the  reply, 
"  but  he  acts  like  one." 

As  the  Caliph  awoke  he  recognized  the  officers  of  the  escort. 
"What  tidings  do  you  bring?"  demanded  he. — "But  who  is 
this  so  extravagantly  arrayed?"  rubbing  his  eyes  as  they  fell 
upon  the  embroidered  robes  and  jewelled  crown  of  the  satrap. 
"This  is  Hormuzan,  the  king  of  Ahwaz."  "Take  the  infidel 
out  of  this  place,"  cried  he,  turning  away  his  head.  "Strip 
him  of  his  riches,  and  put  on  him  the  riches  of  Islam." 

Hormuzan  was  accordingly  taken  forth,  and  in  a  little  time 
was  brought  again  before  the  Caliph,  clad  in  a  simple  garb  of 
the  striped  cloth  of  Yemen. 

The  Moslem  writers  relate  various  quibbles  by  which  Hormu- 
zan sought -to  avert  the  death  with  which  he  was  threatened, 
for  having  slain  Bara  Ibn  Malek.  He  craved  water  to  allay  his 
thirst.  A  vessel  of  water  was  brought.  Affecting  to  appre- 
hend immediate  execution:  "Shall  I  be  spared  until  I  have 
drunk  this?"  Being  answered  by  the  Caliph  in  the  affirmative, 
he  dashed  the  vessel  to  the  ground.  J' Now,"  said  he,  "you 
cannot  put  me  to  death,  for  I  can  never  drink  the  water. " 

The  straightforward  Omar,  however,  was  not  to  be  caught 
by  a  quibble.  "  Your  cunning  will  do  you  no  good,"  said  he. 
"Nothing  will  save  you  but  to  embrace  Islamism."  The 
haughty  Hormuzan  was  subdued.     He  made  the  profession  of 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  363 

faith  in  due  style,  and  was  at  once  enrolled  among  tine  be- 
lievers. 

He  resided  thenceforth  in  Medina,  received  rich  presents 
from  the  Caliph,  and  subsequently  gave  him  much  serviceable 
information  and  advice  in  his  prosecution  of  the  war  with 
Persia.  The  conquest  of  Ahwaz  was  completed  in  the  nine- 
teenth year  of  the  Hcgira. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 


SAAD  SUSPENDED  FROM  THE  COMMAND— A  PERSIAN  ARMY  AS- 
SEMBLED AT  NEHAVEND— COUNCIL  AT  THE  MOSQUE  OF  MEDINA 
— BATTLE  OF  NEHAVEND. 

Omar,  as  we  have  seen,  kept  a  jealous  and  vigilant  eye  upon 
his  distant  generals,  being  constantly  haunted  by  the  fear  that 
they  would  become  corrupted  in  the  rich  and  luxurious 
countries  they  were  invading,  and  lose  that  Arab  simplicity 
which  he  considered  inestimable  in  itself,  and  all-essential  to 
the  success  of  the  cause  of  Islam.  Notwithstanding  the  severe 
reproof  he  had  given  to  Saad  Ibn  Abu  Wakkas  in  burning 
down  his  palace  at  Cufa,  complaints  still  reached  him  that  the 
general  affected  the  pomp  of  a  Caliph,  that  he  was  unjust  and 
oppressive,  unfair  in  the  division  of  spoils,  and  slow  in  conduct- 
ing mditary  concerns.  These  charges  proved,  for  the  most 
part,  unfounded,  but  they  caused  Saad  to  be  suspended  from 
his  command  until  they  could  be  investigated. 

When  the  news  reached  Yezdegird  at  Rei  that  the  Moslem 
general  who  had  conquered  at  Kadesia,  slain  Rustam,  captured 
Madayn,  and  driven  himself  to  the  mountains,  was  deposed, 
from  the  command,  he  conceived  fresh  hopes,  and  wrote  letters 
to  all  the  provinces  yet  unconquered,  calling  on  the  inhabitants 
to  take  up  arms  and  make  a  grand  effort  for  the  salvation  of 
the  empire.  Nehavend  was  appointed  as  the  place  where  the 
troops  were  to  assemble.  It  was  a  place  of  great  antiquity, 
founded,  says  tradition,  by  Noah,  and  called  after  him,  and  was 
about  fifteen  leagues  from  Hamadan,  the  ancient  Ecbatana. 
Here  troops  gathered  together  to  the  number  of  one  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand. 

Omar  assembled  his  counsellors  at  the  mosque  of  Medina, 


864  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

and  gave  theni  intelligence,  just  received,  of  this  great  arma- 
ment. "This,"  said  he,  "is  probably  the  last  great  effort  oi! 
the  Persians.  If  we  defeat  them  now  they  will  never  be  able 
to  unite  again. "  He  expressed  a  disposition,  therefore,  to  take 
the  command  in  person.  Strong  objections  were  advanced. 
"Assemble  troops  from  various  parts,"  said  Othman;  "but 
remain,  yourself,  either  at  Medina,  Cufa,  or  Holwan,  to  send 
reinforcements  if  required,  or  to  form  a  rallying  point  for  the 
Moslems,  if  defeated."  Others  gave  different  counsel.  At 
length  the  matter  was  referred  to  Abbas  Ibn  Abd  al  Motalleb, 
who  was  considered  one  of  the  sagest  heads  for  counsel  in  the 
tribe  of  Koreish.  He  gave  it  as  his  opinion  that  the  Caliph 
should  remain  in  Medina,  and  give  the  command  of  the  cam- 
paign to  Nu'man  Ibn  Mukry,  who  was  already  hi  Ahwaz, 
where  he  had  been  ever  since  Saad  had  sent  him  thither  from 
Irak.  It  is  singular  to  see  the  fate  of  the  once  mighty  and 
magnificent  empires  of  the  Orient — Syria,  Chaldea,  Babylonia, 
and  the  dominions  of  the  Medes  and  Persians— thus  debated 
and  decided  in  the  mosque  of  Medina — by  a  handful  of  gray- 
headed  Arabs,  who  but  a  feAv  years  previously  had  been  home- 
less fugitives. 

Orders  were  now  sent  to  Nu'man  to  march  to  Nehavend, 
and  reinforcements  joined  him  from  Medina,  Bassora,  and 
Cufa.  His  force,  when  thus  coUected,  was  but  moderate,  but 
it  was  made  up  of  men  hardened  and  sharpened  by  incessant 
warfare,  rendered  daring  and  confident  by  repeated  victory, 
and  led  by  able  officers.  He  was  afterward  joined  by  ten 
thousand  men  from  Sawad,  Holwan,  and  other  places,  many 
of  whom  were  tributaries. 

The  Persian  army  now  collected  at  Nehavend  was  com- 
manded by  Firuzan ;  he  was  old  and  infirm,  but  full  of  intelli- 
gence and  spirit,  and  the  only  remaining  general  considered 
capable  of  taking  charge  of  such  a  force,  the  best  generals  hav- 
ing fallen  in  battle.  The  veteran,  knowing  the  impetuosity  of 
the  Arab  attack,  and  their  superiority  in  the  open  field,  had 
taken  a  strong  position,  fortified  his  camp,  and  surrounded  it 
with  a  deep  moat  filled  with  water.  Here  he  determined  to 
tire  out  the  patience  of  the  Moslems,  and  await  an  opportunity 
to  strike  a  decisive  blow. 

Nu'man  displayed  his  forces  before  the  Persian  camp,  and 
repeatedly  offered  battle,  but  the  cautious  veteran  was  not  to 
be  drawn  out  of  his  intrenchments.  Two  months  elapsed 
without  any  action,  and  the  Moslem  troops,  as  Firuzan  had 


MAHOMET  AND  MS  SUCCESSORS.  365 

foreseen,  began  to  grow  discontented .  and  to  murmur  at  their 

general. 

A  stratagem  was  now  resorted  to  by  Nu'man  to  draw  out  the 
enemy.  Breaking  up  his  camp,  he  made  a  hasty  retreat,  leav- 
ing behind  him  many  articles  of  little  value.  The  stratagem 
succeeded.  The  Persians  sallied,  though  cautiously,  in  pur- 
suit. Nu'man  continued  his  feigned  retreat  for  another  day, 
still  followed  by  the  enemy.  Having  drawn  them  to  a  suffi- 
cient distance  from  then-  fortified  camp,  he  took  up  a  position 
at  nightfall.  "To-morrow,"  said  he  to  his  troops,  "  before  the 
day  reddens,  be  ready  for  battle.  I  have  been  with  the  pro- 
phet in  many  conflicts,  and  he  always  commenced  battle  after 
the  Friday  prayer." 

The  following  day,  when  the  troops  were  drawn  out  in  order 
of  battle,  he  made  this  prayer  in  their  presence:  "Oh  Allah! 
sustain  this  day  the  cause  of  Islamism;  give  us  victory  over 
the  infidels,  and  grant  me  the  glory  of  martyrdom."  Then 
turning  to  his  officers,  he  expressed  a  presentiment  that  he 
should  fall  in  the  battle,  and  named  the  person  who,  in  such 
case,  should  take  the  command. 

He  now  appointed  the  signal  for  battle.  "Three  times," 
said  he,  "I  will  cry  the  tekbir,  and  each  time  will  shake  my 
standard.  At  the  third  time  let  every  one  fall  on  as  I  shall 
do."  He  gave  the  signal,  Allah  Achbar!  Allah  Achbar!  Allah 
Achbar !  At  the  third  shaking  of  the  standard  the  tekbir  was 
responded  by  the  army,  and  the  air  was  rent  by  the  universal 
shout  of  Allah  Achbar ! 

The  shock  of  the  two  armies  was  terrific ;  they  were  soon 
enveloped  in  a  cloud  of  dust,  in  which  the  sound  of  scimetars 
and  battle-axes  told  the  deadly  work  that  was  going  on,  while 
the  shouts  of  Allah  Achbar  continued,  mingled  with  furious 
cries  and  execrations  of  the  Persians,  and  dismal  groans  of  the 
wounded.  In  an  hour  the  Persians  were  completely  routed. 
"  Oh  Lord !"  exclaimed  Nu'man  in  pious  ecstasy,  "my  prayer 
for  victory  has  been  heard ;  may  that  for  martyrdom  be  like- 
wise favored !" 

He  advanced  his  standard  in  pursuit  of  the  enemy,  but  at 
the  same  moment  a  Parthian  arrow  from  the  flying  foe  gave 
him  the  death  he  coveted.  His  body,  with  the  face  covered, 
was  conveyed  to  his  brother,  and  his  standard  given  to 
Hadifeh,  whom  he  had  named  to  succeed  him  in  the  com- 
mand. 
The  Persians  were  pursued  with  great  slaughter.     Firuzan 


366  MAHOMET  AND   HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

fied  toward  Hamadan,  but  was  overtaken  at  midnight  as  he 
was  ascending  a  steep  hill,  embarrassed  among  a  crowd  of 
mules  and  camels  laden  with  the  luxurious  superfluities  of  a  Per- 
sian camp.  Here  he  and  several  thousand  of  his  soldiers  and 
camp-followers  were  cut  to  pieces.  The  booty  was  immense. 
Forty  of  the  mules  were  found  to  be  laden  with  honey ;  which 
made  the  Arabs  say,  with  a  sneer,  that  Firuzan's  army  was 
clogged  with  its  own  honey,  until  overtaken  by  the  true  be- 
lievers. The  whole  number  of  Persians  slain  in  this  battle, 
which  sealed  the  fate  of  the  empire,  is  said  to  have  amounted 
to  one  hundred  thousand.  It  took  place  in  the  twenty-first 
year  of  the  Hegira,  and  the  year  641  of  the  Christian  era,  and 
was  commemorated  among  Moslems  as  "  The  Victory  of  Vic- 
tories." 

On  a  day  subsequent  to  the  battle  a  man  mounted  on  an  ass 
rode  into  the  camp  of  Hadifeh.  He  was  one  who  had  served 
ha  the  temples  of  the  fire-worshippers,  and  was  in  great  con- 
sternation, fearing  to  be  sacrificed  by  the  fanatic  Moslems. 
"  Spare  my  life,"  said  he  to  Hadifeh,  "and  the  life  of  another 
person  whom  I  shall  designate,  and  I  will  deliver  into  your 
hands  a  treasure  put  under  my  charge  by  Yezdegird  when  he 
fled  to  Eei."  His  terms  being  promised,  he  produced  a  sealed 
box.  On  breaking  the  seal,  Hadifeh  found  it  filled  with  rubies 
and  precious  stones  of  various  colors,  and  jewels  of  great  price. 
He  was  astonished  at  the  sight  of  what  appeared  to  him  incal- 
culable riches.  ' '  These  jewels, "  said  he,  ' '  have  not  been  gained 
in  battle,  nor  by  the  sword ;  we  have,  therefore,  no  right  to  any 
share  in  them. "  With  the  concurrence  of  his  officers,  therefore, 
he  sent  the  box  to  the  Caliph  to  be  retained  by  himself  or 
divided  among  the  true  believers  as  he  should  think  proper. 
The  officer  who  conducted  the  fifth  part  of  the  spoils  to  Medina 
delivered  the  box,  and  related  its  history  to  Omar.  The  Ca- 
liph, little  skilled  in  matters  of  luxury,  and  holding  them  in 
supreme  contempt,  gazed  with  an  ignorant  or  scornful  eye  at 
the  imperial  jewels,  and  refused  to  receive  them.  "You  know 
not  what  these  things  are,"  said  he.  "Neither  do  I;  but  they 
justly  belong  to  those  who  slew  the  infidels,  and  to  no  one 
else."  He  ordered  the  officer,  therefore,  to  depart  forthwith 
and  carry  the  box  back  to  Hadifeh.  The  jewels  were  sold  by 
the  latter  to  the  merchants  who  followed  the  camp,  and  when 
the  proceeds  were  divided  among  the  troops,  each  horseman 
received  for  his  share  four  thousand  pieces  of  gold. 

Far  other  was  the  conduct  of  the  Caliph  when  he  received 


MAHOMET  AND  EIS  SUCCESSORS.  367 

the  letter  giving  an  account  of  the  victory  at  Nehavend.  His 
first  inquiry  was  after  his  old  companion  in  the  faith,  Nu'man. 
"  May  God  grant  you  and  him  mercy!"  was  the  reply.  "  He 
has  become  a  martyr!" 

Omar,  it  is  said,  wept.  He  next  inquired  who  also  were  mar- 
tyrs. Several  were  named  with  whom  he  was  acquainted; 
but  many  who  were  unknown  to  him.  "  If  I  know  them  not," 
said  he,  piously  quoting  a  text  of  the  Koran,  "  God  does!" 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

CAPTURE  OF    HAMADAN;   OF    REI— SUBJUGATION  OF    TABARISTAN  ; 
OF  AZERBIJAN-— CAMPAIGN  AMONG   THE  CAUCASIAN  MOUNTAINS. 

The  Persian  troops  who  had  survived  the  signal  defeat  of 
Firuzan  assembled  their  broken  forces  near  the  city  of  Hama- 
dan, but  were  soon  routed  again  by  a  detachment  sent  against 
them  by  Hadlifeh,  who  had  fixed  his  headquarters  at  Neha- 
vend. They  then  took  refuge  in  Hamadan,  and  ensconced 
themselves  in  its  strong  fortress  or  citadel. 

Hamadan  was  the  second  city  in  Persia  for  grandeur,  and 
was  built  upon  the  site  of  Ecbatana,  in  old  times  the  principal 
city  of  the  Medes.  There  were  more  Jews  among  its  inhabi- 
tants than  were  to  be  found  in  any  other  city  of  Persia,  and  it 
boasted  of  possessing  the  tombs  of  Esther  and  Mordecai.  It 
was  situated  on  a  steep  eminence,  down  the  sides  of  which  it 
descended  into  a  fruitful  plain,  watered  by  streams  gushing 
down  from  the  lofty  Orontes,  now  Mount  Elwand.  The  place 
was  commanded  by  Habesh,  the  same  general  who  had  been 
driven  from  Holwan  after  the  flight  of  Yezdegird.  Habesh 
sought  an  interview  with  Hadifeh,  at  his  encampment  at 
Nehavend,  and  made  a  treaty  of  peace  with  him ;  but  it  was  a 
fraudulent  one,  and  intended  merely  to  gain  time.  Returning 
to  Hamadan,  he  turned  the  whole  city  into  a  fortress,  and 
assembled  a  strong  garrison,  being  reinforced  from  the  neigh- 
boring province  of  Azerbijan. 

On  being  informed  of  this  want  of  good  faith  on  the  part  of 
the  governor  of  Hamadan,  the  Caliph  Omar  dispatched  a 
strong  force  against  the  place,  led  by  an  able  officer  named 
Nu'haim  Ibn  Mukrin.  Habesh  had  more  courage  than  cau- 
tion.    Confident  in  the  large  force  he  had  assembled,  instead 


368  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

of  remaining  within  his  strongly  fortified  city,  he  sallied  forth 
and  met  the  Moslems  in  open  field.  The  battle  lasted  for  three 
days,  and  was  harder  fought  than  even  that  of  Nelmvend,  but 
ended  in  leaving  the  Moslems  triumphant  masters  of  the  once 
formidable  capital  of  Medea. 

Nu'haim  now  marched  against  Eei,  late  the  place  of  refuge 
of  Yezdegird.  That  prince,  however,  had  deserted  it  on  the 
approach  of  danger,  leaving  it  in  charge  of  a  noble  named 
Siyawesh  Ibn  Barham.  Hither  the  Persian  princes  had  sent, 
troops  from  the  yet  unconquered  provinces,  for  Siyawesh  had 
nobly  offered  to  make  himself  as  a  buckler  to  them,  and  con- 
quer or  fall  in  their  defence.  His  patriotism  was  unavailing ; 
treachery  and  corruption  were  too  prevalent  among  the  Per- 
sians. Zain,  a  powerful  noble  resident  in  Eei,  and  a  deadly 
enemy  of  Siyawesh,  conspired  to  admit  two  thousand  Moslems 
in  at  one  gate  of  the  city,  at  the  time  when  its  gallant  governor 
was  making  a  sally  by  another.  A  scene  of  tumult  and  car- 
nage took  place  in  the  streets,  where  both  armies  engaged  in 
deadly  conflict.  The  patriot  Siyawesh  was  slain,  with  a  great 
part  of  his  troops ;  the  city  was  captured  and  sacked,  and  its 
citadel  destroyed,  and  the  traitor  Zain  was  rewarded  for  his 
treachery  by  being  made  governor  of  the  ruined  place. 

Nu'haim  now  sent  troops  in  different  directions  against 
Kumisb,  and  Dameghan,  and  Jurgan  (tbe  ancient  Hircania), 
and  Tabaristan.  They  met  with  feeble  resistance.  The  na- 
tional spirit  was  broken ;  even  the  national  religion  was  nearly 
at  an  end.  ' '  This  Persian  religion  of  ours  has  become  obso- 
lete," said  Farkham,  a  military  sage,  to  an  assemblage  of  com- 
manders, who  asked  his  advice;  "  the  new  religion  is  carrying 
everything  before  it ;  my  advice  is  to  make  peace  and  pay  trib- 
ute." His  advice  was  adopted.  All  Tabaristan  became  tribu- 
tary in  the  annual  sum  of  five  hundred  thousand  dirhems, 
with  the  condition  that  the  Moslems  should  levy  no  troops  in 
that  quarter. 

Azerbijan  was  next  invaded ;  the  country  which  had  sent 
troops  to  the  aid  of  Hamadan.  This  province  lay  north  of  Eei 
and  Hamadan,  and  extended  to  the  Eocky  Caucasus.  It  was 
the  stronghold  of  the  Magians  or  Fire-worshippers,  where  they 
had  their  temples,  and  maintained  their  perpetual  fire.  Hence 
the  name  of  the  country,  Azer  signifying  fire.  The  princes  of 
the  country  made  an  ineffectual  stand;  their  army  was  de- 
feated; the  altars  of  the  fire-worshippers  were  overturned; 
their  temples  destroyed,  and  Azerbijan  won. 


M AIIO MET  AND  1I1S  SUCCESSORS.  309 

The  arms  of  Islam  had  now  been  carried  triumphantly  to  the 
very  defiles  of  the  Caucasus ;  those  mountains  were  yet  to  be 
subdued.  Their  rocky  sierras  on  the  east  separated  Azerbijan 
from  Haziz  and  the  shores  of  the  Caspian,  and  on  the  north 
from  the  vast  Sarmatian  regions.  The  passes  through  these 
mountains  were  secured  of  yore  by  fortresses  and  walls  and 
iron  gates,  to  bar  against  irruptions  from  the  shadowy  land  of 
Gog  and  Magog,  the  terror  of  the  olden  time,  for  by  these 
passes  had  poured  in  the  barbarous  hordes  of  the  north,  "a 
mighty  host  all  riding  upon  horses, "  who  lived  in  tents,  wor- 
shipped the  naked  sword  planted  in  the  earth,  and  decorated 
their  steeds  with  the  scalps  of  their  enemies  slain  in  battle.* 


*  By  some  Gog  and  Magog  are  taken  in  an  allegorical  sense,  signifying  the 
princes  of  heathendom,  enemies  of  saints  and  \he  church. 

According  to  the  prophet  Ezekiel,  Gog  wai  the  king  of  Magog;  Magog  signifying 
the  people,  and  Gog  the  king  of  the  country.  They  are  names  that  loom  vaguely 
and  fearfully  in  the  dark  denunciations  of  the  prophets,  and  in  the  olden  time  in- 
spired awe  throughout  the  Eastern  world. 

The  Arabs,  says  Lane,  call  Gog  and  Magog,  Yajuj  and  Majuj,  and  say  they  are 
two  nations  or  tribes  descended  from  Japhet,  the  son  of  Noah;  or,  as  others  write, 
Gog  is  a  tribe  of  the  Turks,  and  Magog  those  of  Gilan;  the  Geli  and  the  Gelee  of 
Ptolemy  and  Strabo.  They  made  their  irruptions  into  the  neighboring  countries  in 
the  spring,  and  carried  off  all  the  fruits  of  the  earth.— Safe's  Koran,  note  to  ch.  18. 

According  to  Moslem  belief,  a  great  irruption  of  Gog  and  Magog  is  to  be  one  of 
the  signs  of  the  latter  days,  forerunning  the  resurrection  and  final  judgment. 
They  are  to  come  from  the  north  in  a  mighty  host,  covering  the  land  as  a  cloud;  so 
that  when  subdued,  their  shields  and  bucklers,  their  bows  and  arrows  and  quivers, 
and  the  staves  of  their  spears,  shall  furnish  the  faithful  with  fuel  for  seven  years. 
— All  which  is  evidently  derived  from  the  book  of  the  prophet  Ezekiel,  with  which 
Mahomet  had  been  made  acquainted  by  his  Jewish  instructors. 

The  Koran  makes  mention  of  a  wall  built  as  a  protection  against  these  fearful 
people  of  the  north  by  Dhu'lkarneim,  or  the  Two  Horned;  by  whom  some  suppose 
is  meant  Alexander  the  Great,  others  a  Persian  king  of  the  first  race,  contemporary 
with  Abraham. 

And  they  said,  O  Dhu'lkarneim,  verily,  Gog  and  Magog  waste  the  land.  .  .  . 
He  answered,  I  will  set  a  strong  wall  between  you  and  them.  Bring  me  iron  in 
large  pieces,  until  it  fill  up  the  space  between  the  two  sides  of  these  mountains. 
And  he  said  to  the  workmen,  Blow  with  your  bellows  until  it  make  the  iron  red  hot; 
and  bring  me  molten  brass,  that  I  may  pour  upon  it.  Wherefore,  when  this  wall 
was  finished,  Gog  and  Magog  could  not  scale  it,  neither  could  they  dig  through 
it. — Sale's  Koran,  chap.  18. 

The  C/.ar  Peter  the  Great,  in  his  expedition  against  the  Persians,  saw  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  city  of  Derbend,  which  was  then  besieged,  the  ruins  of  a  wall 
which  went  up  hill  and  down  dale,  along  the  Caucasus,  and  was  said  to  extend 
from  the  Euxine  to  the  Caspian.  It  was  fortified  from  place  to  place,  by  towers  or 
castles.  It  was  eighteen  Russian  stades  in  height;  built  of  stones  laid  up  dry; 
some  of  them  three  ells  long  and  very  wide.  The  color  of  the  stones,  and  the  tradi- 
tions of  the  country,  showed  it  to  be  of  great  antiquity.  The  Arabs  and  Persians 
said  that  it  was  built  against  the  invasions  of  Gog  and  Magog.— See  Travels  in  the 
East,  by  Sir  William  Ousvley. 


370  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

Detachments  of  Moslems  under  different  leaders  penetrated 
the  denies  of  these  mountains  and  made  themselves  masters  of 
the  Derbends,  or  mountain  barriers.  One  of  the  most  im- 
portant, and  which  cost  the  greatest  struggle,  was  a  city  or 
fortress  caUed  by  the  Persians  Der-bend ;  by  the  Turks  Demir- 
Capi  or  the  Gate  of  Iron,  and  by  the  Arabs  Bab-el-abwab  (the 
Gate  of  Gatesj.  It  guards  a  defile  between  a  promontory  of 
Mount  Caucasus  and  the  Caspian  Sea.  A  superstitious  belief 
is  still  connected  with  it  by  the  Moslems.  Originally  it  had 
three  gates,  two  only  are  left ;  one  of  these  has  nearly  sunk 
into  the  earth;  they  say  when  it  disappears  the  day  of  judg- 
ment will  arrive. 

Abda'lrahman  Ibn  Rabiah,  one  of  the  Moslem  commanders 
who  penetrated  the  denies  of  the  Caucasus,  was  appointed  by 
Omar  to  the  command  of  the  Derbends  or  passes,  with  orders 
to  keep  vigilant  watch  over  them ;  for  the  Caliph  was  in  con- 
tinual solicitude  about  the  safety  of  the  Moslems  on  these  re- 
mote expeditions,  and  was  fearful  that  the  Moslem  troops 
might  be  swept  away  by  some  irruption  from  the  north. 

Abda'lrahman,  with  the  approbation  of  the  Caliph,  made  a 
compact  with  Shahr-Zad,  one  of  the  native  chiefs,  by  which 
the  latter,  in  consideration  of  being  excused  from  paying 
tribute,  undertook  to  guard  the  Derbends  against  the  northern 
hordes.  The  Arab  general  had  many  conversations  with 
Shahr-Zad  about  the  mountains,  which  are  favored  regions  of 
Persian  romance  and  fable.  His  imagination  was  fired  with 
what  he  was  told  about  the  people  beyond  the  Derbends,  the 
Allani  and  the  Rus ;  and  about  the  great  wall  or  barrier  of 
Yajuj  and  Majuj,  built  to  restrain  their  inroads. 

In  one  of  the  stories  told  by  Shahr-Zad,  the  reader  will  per- 
ceive the  germ  of  one  of  the  Arabian  tales  of  Sinbad  the  Sailor. 
It  is  recorded  to  the  following  purport  by  Tabari,  the  Persian 
historian:  "One  day  as  Abda'lrahman  was  seated  by  Shahr- 
Zad,  conversing  with  him,  he  perceived  upon  his  finger  a  ring 
decorated  with  a  ruby,  which  burned  like  fire  in  the  day- 
time, but  at  night  was  of  dazzling  brilliancy.  '  It  came, '  said 
Shahr-Zad,  'from  the  wall  of  Yajuj  and  Majuj;  from  a  king 
whose  dominions  between  the  mountains  is  traversed  by  the 
wall.  I  sent  him  many  presents  and"  asked  but  one  ruby  in 
return.'  Seeing  the  curiosity  of  Abda'lrahman  aroused,  ho 
sent  for  the  man  who  had  brought  the  ring,  and  commanded 
him  to  relate  the  circumstances  of  his  errand. 

"  '  When  I  delivered  the  presents  and  the  letter  of  Shahr- 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  371 

Zad  to  that  king,'  said  the  man,  'he  called  his  chief  falconer, 
and  ordered  him  to  procure  the  jewel  required.  The  falconer 
kept  an  eagle  for  three  days  without  food,  until  he  was  nearly 
starved;  he  then  took  him  up  into  the  mountains  near  the 
wall,  and  I  accompanied  him.  From  the  summit  of  one  of 
these  mountains,  we  looked  down  into  a  deep  dark  chasm  like 
an  abyss.  The  falconer  now  produced  a  piece  of  tainted 
meat ;  threw  it  into  the  ravine,  and  let  loose  the  eagle.  He 
swept  down  after  it;  pounced  upon  it  as  it  reached  the  ground, 
and  returning  with  it,  perched  upon  the  hand  of  the  falconer. 
The  ruby  which  now  shines  in  that  ring  was  found  adhering 
to  the  meat.' 

"  Abda'lrahman  asked  an  account  of  the  wall.  '  It  is  built,' 
replied  the  man,  '  of  stone,  iron,  and  brass,  and  extends  down 
one  mountain  and  up  another. '  '  This, '  said  the  devout  and 
all-believing  Abda'lrahman,  '  must  be  the  very  wall  of  which 
the  Ahnighty  makes  mention  in  the  Koran.' 

"He  now  inquired  of  Shahr-Zad  what  was  the  value  of 
the  ruby.  'No one  knows  its  value, '  was  the  reply;  'though 
presents  to  an  immense  amount  had  been  made  in  return  for 
it. '  Shahr-Zad  now  drew  the  ring  from  his  finger,  and  offered 
it  to  Abda'lrahman,  but  the  latter  refused  to  accept  it,  saying 
that  a  gem  of  that  value  was  not  suitable  to  him.  '  Had  you 
been  one  of  the  Persian  kings,'  said  Shahr-Zad,  'you  would 
have  taken  it  from  me  by  force ;  but  men  who  conduct  like 
you  will  conquer  all  the  world.' " 

The  stories  which  he  had  heard  had  such  an  effect  upon 
Abda'lrahman,  that  he  resolved  to  make  a  foray  into  the 
mysterious  country  beyond  the  Derbends.  Still  it  could  only 
be  of  a  partial  nature,  as  he  was  restrained  from  venturing  far 
by  the  cautious  injunctions  of  Omar.  "Were  I  not  fearful  of 
displeasing  the  Caliph,"  said  he,  "I  would  push  forward  even 
to  Yajuj  and  Majuj,  and  make  converts  of  all  the  infidels." 

On  issuing  from  the  mountains,  he  found  himself  among  a 
barbarious  people,  the  ancestors  of  the  present  Turks,  who  in- 
habited a  region  of  country  between  the  Euxine  and  the 
Caspian  seas.  A  soldier  who  followed  Abda'lrahman  in  this 
foray  gave  the  following  account  of  these  people  to  the  Caliph 
on  his  return  to  Medina.  ' '  They  were  astonished, "  said  he, 
"  at  our  appearance,  so  different  from  their  old  enemies  the 
Persians,  and  asked  us,  'Are  you  angels,  or  the  sons  of  Adam?' 
to  which  we  replied,  we  are  sons  of  Adam ;  but  the  angels  of 
heaven  are  on  our  side  and  aid  us  in  our  warfare." 


372  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

The  infidels  forbore  to  assail  men  thus  protected ;  one,  how- 
ever, more  shrewd  or  dubious  than  the  rest,  stationed  himself 
behind  a  tree,  sped  an  arrow,  and  slew  a  Moslem.  The  de- 
lusion was  at  an  end ;  the  Turks  saw  that  the  strangers  were 
mortal,  and  from  that  time  there  was  hard  fighting.  Abda'lrah- 
man  laid  siege  to  a  place  called  Belandscher,  the  city  or 
stronghold  of  the  Bulgarians  or  Huns,  another  semi-barbarous 
and  warlike  people  like  the  Turks,  who,  like  them,  had  not  yet 
made  themselves  world-famous  by  their  conquering  migra- 
tions. The  Turks  came  to  the  aid  of  their  neighbors ;  a  severe 
battle  took  place,  the  Moslems  were  defeated,  and  Abda'lrah- 
man  paid  for  his  daring  enterprise  and  romantic  curiosity 
with  his  life.  The  Turks,  who  still  appear  to  have  retained  a 
superstitious  opinion  of  their  unknown  invaders,  preserved 
the  body  of  the  unfortunate  general  as  a  relic,  and  erected  a 
shrine  in  honor  of  it,  at  which  they  used  to  put  up  their 
prayers  for  rain  in  time  of  drought. 

The  troops  of  Abda'lrahman  retreated  within  the  Derbends ; 
his  brother  Selman  Ibn  Rabiah  was  appointed  to  succeed  him 
in  the  command  of  the  Caucasian  passes,  and  thus  ended  the 
unfortunate  foray  into  the  land  of  Gog  and  Magog. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

THE    CALIPH    OMAR    ASSASSINATED    BY  A    FIRE-WORSHTPPER— HIS 
CHARACTER— OTHMAN  ELECTED  CALIPH. 

The  life  and  reign  of  the  Caliph  Omar,  distinguished  by  such 
great  and  striking  events,  were  at  length  brought  to  a  sudden 
and  sanguinary  end.  Among  the  Persians  who  had  been 
brought  as  slaves  to  Medina,  was  one  named  Firuz,  of  the  sect 
of  the  Magi,  or  fire-worshippers.  Being  taxed  daily  by  his 
master  two  pieces  of  silver  out  of  his  earnings,  he  complained 
of  it  to  Omar  as  an  extortion.  The  Caliph  inquired  into  his 
condition,  and,  finding  that  he  was  a  carpenter,  and  expert  in 
the  construction  of  windmills,  replied,  that  the  man  who  ex- 
celled in  such  a  handicraft  could  well  afford  to  pay  two  dirhems 
a  day.  "Then,"  muttered  Firuz,  "I'll  construct  a  windmill 
for  you  that  shall  keep  grinding  until  the  day  of  judgment. " 
Omar  was  struck  with  his  menacing  air.     ' :  The  slave  threatens 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  373 

me,"  said  he,  calmly.  "If  I  were  disposed  to  punish  any  one 
on  suspicion,  I  should  take  off  his  head;"  he  suffered  him, 
however,  to  depart  without  further  notice. 

Three  days  afterward,  as  he  was  praying  in  the  mosque, 
Firuz  entered  suddenly  and  stabbed  him  thrice  with  a  dagger. 
The  attendants  rushed  upon  the  assassin.  He  made  furious 
resistance,  slew  some  and  wounded  others,  until  one  of  his 
assailants  threw  his  vest  over  him  and  seized  him,  upon  which 
he  stabbed  himself  to  the  heart  and  expired.  Religion  may 
have  had  some  share  in  prompting  this  act  of  violence ;  perhaps 
revenge  for  the  ruin  brought  upon  his  native  country.  "  God 
be  thanked, "  said  Omar,  ' '  that  he  by  whose  hand  it  was  de- 
creed I  should  fall  was  not  a  Moslem !" 

The  Caliph  gathered  strength  sufficient  to  finish  the  prayer 
in  which  he  had  been  interrupted;  "for  he  who  deserts  his 
prayers,"  said  he,  "is  not  in  Islam."  Being  taken  to  his 
house,  he  languished  three  days  without  hope  of  recovery,  but 
could  not  be  prevailed  upon  to  nominate  a  successor.  ' '  I  can- 
not presume  to  do  that,"  said  he,  "  which  the  prophet  himself 
did  not  do."  Some  suggested  that  he  shoidd  nominate  his 
son  Abdallah.  "Omar's  family,"  said  he,  "has  had  enough 
in  Omar,  and  needs  no  more. "  He  appointed  a  council  of  six 
persons  to  determine  as  to  the  succession  after  his  decease ;  all 
of  whom  he  considered  worthy  of  the  Caliphat;  though  he 
gave  it  as  his  opinion  that  the  choice  would  be  either  Ali  or 
Othman.  " Shouldst  thou  become  Caliph,"  said  he  to  Ali,  "  do 
not  favor  thy  relatives  above  aU  others,  nor  place  the  house  of 
Haschem  on  the  neck  of  all  mankind ;"  and  he  gave  the  same 
caution  to  Othman  in  respect  to  the  family  of  Omeya. 

Calling  for  ink  and  paper,  he  wrote  a  letter  as  his  last  testa- 
ment, to  whosoever  might  be  his  successor,  full  of  excellent 
counsel  for  the  upright  management  of  affairs,  and  the  promo- 
tion of  the  faith.  He  charged  his  son  Abdallah  in  the  most 
earnest  manner,  as  one  of  the  highest  duties  of  Islamism,  to 
repay  eighteen  thousand  dirhems  which  he  had  borrowed  out 
of  the  public  treasury.  All  present  protested  against  this  as 
unreasonable,  since  the  money  had  been  expended  in  relief  of 
the  poor  and  destitute,  but  Omar  insisted  upon  it  as  his  last 
will.  He  then  sent  to  Ayesha  and  procured  permission  of  her 
to  be  buried  next  to  her  father  Abu  Beker. 

Ibn  Abbas  and  Ali  now  spoke  to  him  in  words  of  comfort, 
setting  forth  the  blessings  of  Islam,  which  had  crowned  his 
administration,  and  that  he  would  leave  no  one  behind  him 


374  MAHOMET  AND  JUS  SUCCESSORS. 

who  could  charge  him  with  injustice.  "  Testify  this  for  me," 
said  he,  earnestly,  "  at  the  day  of  judgment."  They  gave  him 
their  hands  in  promise ;  but  he  exacted  that  they  should  give 
him  a  written  testimonial,  and  that  it  should  be  buried  with 
him  in  the  grave. 

Having  settled  all  his  worldly  affairs,  and  given  directions 
about  his  sepulture,  he  expired,  the  seventh  day  after  his 
assassination,  in  the  sixty-third  year  of  his  age,  after  a  trium- 
phant reign  of  ten  years  and  six  months. 

His  death  was  rashly  and  bloodily  revenged.  Mahomet  Ibn 
Abu  Beker,  the  brother  of  Ayesha,  and  imbued  with  her  mis- 
chief-making propensity,  persuaded  Abdallah,  the  son  of  Omar, 
that  his  father's  murder  was  the  result  of  a  conspiracy ;  Firuz 
having  been  instigated  to  the  act  by  his  daughter  Lulu,  a 
Christian  named  Dschofeine,  and  Hormuzan,  the  once  haughty 
and  magnificent  satrap  of  Susiana.  In  the  transport  of  his 
rage,  and  instigated  by  the  old  Arab  principle  of  blood  revenge, 
Abdallah  slew  all  three  of  the  accused,  without  reflecting  on 
the  improbability  of  Hormuzan,  at  least,  being  accessory  to  the 
murder;  being,  since  his  conversion,  in  close  friendship  with 
the  late  Caliph,  and  his  adviser,  on  many  occasions,  in  the 
prosecution  of  the  Persian  war. 

The  whole  history  of  Omar  shows  Mm  to  have  been  a  man 
of  great  powers  of  mind,  inflexible  integrity,  and  rigid  justice. 
He  was,  more  than  any  one  else,  the  founder  of  the  Islam  em- 
pire, confirming  and  carry  ing  out  the  inspirations  of  the  prophet ; 
aiding  Abu  Beker  with  his  counsels  during  his  brief  Caliphat ; 
and  establishing  wise  regulations  for  the  strict  administration 
of  the  laws  throughout  the  rapidly-extending  bounds  of  the 
Moslem  conquests.  The  rigid  hand  which  he  kept  upon  his 
most  popular  generals  in  the  midst  of  their  armies,  and  in  the 
most  distant  scenes  of  their  triumphs,  give  signal  evidence  of  his 
extraordinary  capacity  to  rule.  In  the  simplicity  of  his  habits, 
and  his  contempt  for  all  pomp  and  luxury,  he  emulated  the 
example  of  the  prophet  and  Abu  Beker.  He  endeavored  in- 
cessantly to  impress  the  merit  and  policy  of  the  same  in  his 
letters  to  his  generals.  "  Beware,"  he  would  say,  "  of  Persian 
luxury,  both  in  food  and  raiment.  Seep  to  the  simple  habits 
of  your  country,  and  Allah  will  continue  you  victorious;  de- 
part from  them,  and  he  will  reverse  your  fortunes."  It  was 
his  strong  conviction  of  the  truth  of  this  policy,  which  made 
him  so  severe  in  punishing  all  ostentatious  style  and  luxurious 
indulgence  in  his  officers. 


MAHOMET  AND    MS  SUCCESSORS.  375 

Some  of  his  ordinances  do  credit  to  his  heart  as  well  as  his 
head.  He  forbade  that  any  female  captive  who  had  borne  a 
child  should  be  sold  as  a  slave.  In  his  weekly  distributions  of 
the  surplus  money  of  his  treasury  he  proportioned  them  to  the 
wants,  not  the  merits  of  the  applicant.  "  God,"  said  he,  "  has 
bestowed  the  good  things  of  this  world  to  relieve  our  neces- 
sities, not  to  reward  our  virtues:  those  will  be  rewarded  in 
another  world." 

One  of  the  early  measures  of  his  reign  was  the  assigning 
pensions  to  the  most  faithful  companions  of  the  prophet,  and 
those  who  had  signalized  themselves  in  the  early  service  of  the 
faith.  Abbas,  the  uncle  of  the  prophet,  had  a  yearly  pension 
of  200,000  dirhems;  others  of  his  relatives  in  graduated  pro- 
portions ;  those  veterans  who  had  fought  in  the  battle  of  Beder 
5000  dirhems ;  pensions  of  less  amount  to  those  who  had  dis- 
tinguished themselves  in  Syria,  Persia,  and  Egypt.  Each  of 
the  prophet's  wives  was  allowed  ten  thousand  dirhems  yearly, 
and  Ayesha  twelve  thousand.  Hasan  and  Hosein,  the  sons  of 
Ali  and  grandsons  of  the  prophet,  had  each  a  pension  of  five 
thousand  dirhems.  On  any  one  who  found  fault  with  these 
disbursements  out  of  the  public  wealth,  Omar  invoked  the 
curse  of  Allah. 

He  was  the  first  to  establish  a  chamber  of  accounts  or  ex- 
chequer ;  the  first  to  date  events  from  the  Hegira  or  flight  of 
the  prophet :  and  the  first  to  introduce  a  coinage  into  the  Mos- 
lem dominions ;  stamping  the  coins  with  the  name  of  the  reign- 
ing Caliph;  and  the  words,  "  There  is  no  God  but  God." 

During  his  reign,  we  are  told,  there  were  thirty-six  thousand 
towns,  castles,  and  strongholds  taken;  but  he  was  not  a  waste- 
ful conqueror.  He  founded  new  cities,  established  important 
marts,  built  innumerable  mosques,  and  linked  the  newly  ac- 
quired provinces  into  one  vast  empire  by  his  iron  inflexi- 
bility of  purpose.  As  has  well  been  observed,  "His  Cali- 
phat,  crowned  with  the  glories  of  its  triple  conquest  of  Syria, 
Persia,  and  Egypt,  deserves  to  be  distinguished  as  the  heroic 
age  of  Saracen  history.  The  gigantic  foundations  of  the  Sara- 
cenic power  were  perfected  in  the  short  space  of  less  than  ten 
years."  Let  it  be  remembered,  moreover,  that  this  great  con- 
queror, this  great  legislator,  this  magnanimous  sovereign,  was 
originally  a  rude,  half-instructed  Arab  of  Mecca.  Well  may 
we  say  in  regard  to  the  early  champions  of  Islam,  "There 
were  giants  in  those  days. " 
After  the  death  of  Omar  the  six  persons  met  together  whom 


376  MAHOMET  AND  UIS  SUCCESSORS. 

he  had  named  as  a  council  to  elect  his  successor.  They  were 
Ali,  Othman,  Telha,  Ibn  Obeid'allah  (Mahomet's  son-in-law), 
Zobeir,  Abda'lrahman,  Ibn  Awf,  and  Saad  Ibn  Abu  Wakkas. 
They  had  all  been  personally  intimate  with  Mahomet,  and 
were  therefore  styled  the  companions. 

After  much  discussion  and  repeated  meetings  the  Caliphat 
was  offered  to  Ah,  on  condition  that  he  would  promise  to  gov- 
ern according  to  the  Koran  and  the  traditions  of  Mahomet,  and 
the  regidations  established  by  the  two  seniors  or  elders,  mean- 
ing the  two  preceding  Caliphs,  Abu  Beker  and  Omar. 

Ah  replied  that  he  would  govern  according  to  the  Koran  and 
the  authentic  traditions ;  but  would,  in  all  other  respects,  act 
according  to  his  own  judgment,  without  reference  to  the  ex- 
ample of  the  seniors.  This  reply  not  being  satisfactory  to  the 
council,  they  made  the  same  proposal  to  Othman  Ibn  Affan, 
who  assented  to  all  the  conditions,  and  was  immediately 
elected,  and  installed  three  days  after  the  death  of  his  prede- 
cessor. He  was  seventy  years  of  age  at  the  time  of  his  elec- 
tion. He  was  tall  and  swarthy,  and  his  long  gray  beard  was 
tinged  with  henna.  He  was  strict  in  his  religious  duties ;  fast- 
ing, meditating,  and  studying  the  Koran ;  not  so  simple  in  his 
habits  as  his  predecessors,  but  prone  to  expense  and  lavish 
of  his  riches.  His  bountiful  spirit,  however,  was  evinced  at 
times  in  a  way  that  gained  him  much  popularity.  In  a  time 
of  famine  he  had  supplied  the  poor  of  Medina  with  corn.  He 
had  purchased  at  great  cost  the  ground  about  the  mosque  of 
Medina,  to  give  room  for  houses  for  the  prophet's  wives.  He 
had  contributed  six  hundred  and  fifty  camels  and  fifty  horses 
for  the  campaign  against  Tabuc. 

He  derived  much  respect  among  zealous  Moslems  for  having 
married  two  of  the  prophet's  daughters,  and  for  having  been 
in  both  of  the  Hegiras  or  flights,  the  first  into  Abyssinia,  the 
second,  the  memorable  flight  to  Medina.  Mahomet  used  to  say 
of  him,  "  Each  thing  has  its  mate,  and  each  man  his  associate: 
my  associate  in  paradise  is  Othman." 

Scarcely  was  the  new  Caliph  installed  in  office  when  the  re- 
taliatory punishment  prescribed  by  the  law  was  invoked  upon 
Obeid'allah,  the  son  of  Omar,  for  the^deaths  so  rashly  inflicted 
on  those  whom  he  had  suspected  of  instigating  his  father's  as- 
sassination. Othman  was  perplexed  between  the  letter  of  the 
law  and  the  odium  of  following  the  murder  of  the  father  by 
the  execution  of  the  son.  He  was  kindly  relieved  from  his  per- 
plexity by  the  suggestion,  that  as  the  act  of  Obeid'allah  took 


HALLO  MET  AM)  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  377 

place  in  the  interregnum  between  the  Caliphats  of  Omar  and 
Othman,  it  did  not  come  under  the  cognizance  of  either.  Otb- 
man  gladly  availed  himself  of  the  quibble ;  Obeid'allah  escaped 
unpunished,  and  the  sacrifice  of  the  once  magnificent  Hormu- 
zan  and  his  fellow- victims  remained  unavenged. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

CONCLUSION  OF  THE  PERSIAN  CONQUEST — FLIGHT  AND  DEATH  OF 

YEZDEGIRD. 

The  proud  empire  of  the  Khosrus  had  received  its  death- 
blow during  the  vigorous  Caliphat  of  Omar ;  what  signs  of  life 
it  yet  gave  were  but  its  dying  struggles.  The  Moslems,  led 
by  able  generals,  pursued  their  conquests  in  different  direc- 
tions. Some,  turning  to  the  west,  urged  their  triumphant 
way  through  ancient  Assyria ;  crossed  the  Tigris  by  the  bridge 
of  Mosul,  passing  the  ruins  of  mighty  Nineveh  as  unheedingly 
as  they  had  passed  those  of  Babylon ;  completed  the  subjuga- 
tion of  Mesopotamia,  and  planted  their  standards  beside  those 
of  their  brethren  who  had  achieved  the  conquest  of  Syria. 

Others  directed  their  course  into  the  southern  and  eastern 
provinces,  following  the  retreating  steps  of  Yezdegird.  A  fiat 
issued  by  the  late  Caliph  Omar  had  sealed  the  doom  of  that 
unhappy  monarch.  "Pursue  the  fugitive  king  wherever  he 
may  go,  until  you  have  driven  him  from  the  face  of  the 
earth!" 

Yezdegird,  after  abandoning  Rei,  had  led  a  wandering  life, 
shifting  from  city  to  city  and  province  to  province,  still  flying 
at  the  approach  of  danger.  At  one  time  we  hear  of  him  in  the 
splendid  city  of  Ispahan ;  next  among  the  mountains  of  Farsis- 
tan,  the  original  Persis,  the  ci  exile  of  the  conquerors  of  Asia; 
and  it  is  another  of  the  lessons  furnished  by  history,  to  see  the 
last  of  the  Khosrus  a  fugitive  among  those  mountains  whence, 
in  foregone  times,  Cyrus  had  led  his  hardy  but  frugal  and 
rugged  bands  to  win,  by  force  of  arms,  that  vast  empire  which 
was  now  falling  to  ruin  through  its  effeminate  degeneracy. 

For  a  time  the  unhappy  monarch  halted  in  Istakar,  the 
pride  of  Persia,  where  the  tottering  remains  of  Persepolis,  and 
its  hall  of  a  thousand  columns,  speak  of  the  ancient  glories  of 
the  Persian  kings.     Here  Yezdegird  had  been  fostered  and 


3TS  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

concealed  during  his  youthful  days,  and  here  he  came  near 
being  taken  among  the  relies  of  Persian  magnificence. 

From  Farsistan.  he  was  driven  to  Kerman,  the  ancient  Car- 
mania  ;  thence  into  Khorassan,  in  the  northern  part  of  which 
vast  province  he  took  breath  at  the  city  of  Merv,  or  Merou,  on 
the  remote  boundary  of  Bactriana.  In  all  his  wanderings  ho 
was  encumbered  by  the  shattered  pageant  of  an  oriental  court, 
a  worthless  throng  which  had  fled  with  him  from  Madayn, 
and  which  he  had  no  means  of  supporting.  At  Merv  he  had 
four  thousand  persons  in  his  train,  all  minions  of  the  palace, 
useless  hangers-on,  porters,  grooms,  and  slaves,  together  with 
his  wives  and  concubines,  and  their  female  attendants. 

In  this  remote  halting-place  he  devoted  himself  to  building 
a  fire-temple ;  in  the  mean  time  he  wrote  letters  to  such  of  the 
cities  and  provinces  as  were  yet  unconquered,  exhorting  his 
governors  and  generals  to  defend,  piece  by  piece,  the  frag- 
ments of  empire  which  he  had  deserted. 

The  city  of  Ispahan,  one  of  the  brightest  jewels  of  his 
crown,  was  well  garrisoned  by  wrecks  of  the  army  of  Nelia- 
vend,  and  might  have  made  brave  resistance;  but  its  gover- 
nor, Kadeskan,  staked  the  fortunes  of  the  place  upon  a  single 
combat  with  the  Moslem  commander  who  had  invested  it,  and 
capitulated  at  the  first  shock  of  lances;  probably  through 
some  traitorous  arrangement. 

Ispahan  has  never  recovered  from  that  blow.  Modern 
travellers  speak  of  its  deserted  streets,  its  abandoned  palaces, 
its  silent  bazaars.  "  I  have  ridden  for  miles  among  its  ruins," 
says  one,  "without  meeting  any  living  creature,  excepting 
perhaps  a  jackal  peeping  over  a  wall,  or  a  fox  mnning  into 
his  hole.  Now  and  then  an  inhabited  house  was  to  be  seen, 
the  owner  of  which  might  be  assimilated  to  Job's  forlorn  man 
dwelling  in  desolate  cities,  and  in  houses  which  no  man  in- 
habiteth;  which  are  ready  to  become  heaps." 

Istakar  made  a  nobler  defence.  The  national  pride  of  the 
Persians  was  too  much  connected  with  this  city,  once  their 
boast,  to  let  it  fall  without  a  struggle.  There  was  another 
gathering  of  troops  from  various  parts;  one  hundred  and 
twenty  thousand  are  said  to  have  united  under  the  standard 
of  Shah-reg  the  patriotic  governor.  It  was  all  in  vain.  The 
Persians  were  again  defeated  in  a  bloody  battle ;  Shah-reg  was 
slain,  and  Istakar,  the  ancient  Persepolis,  once  almost  the 
mistress  of  the  Eastern  world,  was  compelled  to  pay  tribute 
to  the  Arabian  Caliph. 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  379 

The  course  of  Moslem  conquest  now  turned  into  the  vast 
province  of  Khorassan ;  subdued  one  part  of  it  after  another, 
and  approached  the  remote  region  where  Yezdegird  had  taken 
refuge.  Driven  to  the  boundaries  of  his  dominions,  the  fugi- 
tive monarch  crossed  the  Oxus  (the  ancient  Gihon)  and  the 
sandy  deserts  beyond,  and  threw  himself  among  the  shepherd 
hordes  of  Scythia.  His  wanderings  are  said  to  have  extended 
to  the  borders  of  Tshin,  or  China,  from  the  emperor  of  which 
he  sought  assistance. 

Obscurity  hangs  over  this  part  of  his  story ;  it  is  affirmed 
that  he  succeeded  in  obtaining  aid  from  the  great  Khan  of  the 
Tartars,  and  re-crossing  the  Gihon  was  joined  by  the  troops  of 
Balkh  or  Bactria,  which  province  was  still  unsubdued  and 
loyal.  With  these  he  endeavored  to  make  a  stand  against 
his  unrelenting  pursuers.  A  slight  reverse,  or  some  secret 
treachery,  put  an  end  to  the  adhesion  of  his  barbarian  ally. 
The  Tartar  chief  returned  with  his  troops  to  Turkestan. 

Yezdegird's  own  nobles,  tired  of  following  his  desperate 
fortunes,  now  conspired  to  betray  him  and  his  treasures  into 
the  hands  of  the  Moslems  as  a  price  for  their  own  safety.  He 
was  at  that  time  at  Merv,  or  Merov,  on  the  Oxus,  called  Merou 
al  Roud,  or  "  Merou  of  the  River,"  to  distinguish  it  from  Merou 
in  Khorassan.  Discovering  the  intended  treachery  of  his 
nobles,  and  of  the  governor  of  the  place,  he  caused  his  slaves 
to  let  him  down  with  cords  from  a  window  of  his  palace  and 
fled,  alone  and  on  foot,  under  cover  of  the  night.  At  the 
break  of  day  he  found  himself  near  a  mill,  on  the  banks  of  the 
river,  only  eight  miles  from  the  city,  and  offered  the  miller 
his  ring  and  bracelets,  enriched  with  gems,  if  he  would  ferry 
him  across  the  stream.  The  boor,  who  knew  nothing  of 
jewels,  demanded  four  silver  oboli,  or  drachms,  the  amount  of 
a  day's  earnings,  as  a  compensation  for  leaving  his  work. 
While  thoy  were  debating,  a  party  of  horsemen  who  were  in 
pursuit  of  the  king  came  up  and  clove  him  with  their  scime- 
tars.  Another  account  states  that,  exhausted  and  fatigued 
with  the  weight  of  his  embroidered  garments,  he  sought  rest 
and  concealment  in  the  mill,  and  that  the  miller  spread  a  mat, 
on  which  he  laid  down  and  slept.  His  rich  attire,  however, 
his  belt  of  gold  studded  with  jewels,  his  rings  and  bracelets, 
excited  the  avarice  of  the  miller,  who  slew  him  with  an  axe 
while  he  slept,  and,  having  stripped  the  body,  threw  it  into 
the  water.  In  the  morning  several  horsemen  in  search  of 
him  arrived  at  the  mill,  where  discovering,  by  his  clothes  and 


380  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

jewels,  that  lie  had  been  murdered,  they  put  the  miller  to 
death. 

This  miserable  catastrophe  to  a  miserable  career  is  said  to 
have  occurred  on  the  23d  August,  in  the  year  651  of  the  Chris- 
tian era.  Yezdegird  was  in  the  thirty-fourth  year  of  his  age, 
having  reigned  nine  years  previous  to  the  battle  of  Nehavend, 
and  since  that  event  having  been  ten  years  a  fugitive.  His- 
tory lays  no  crime  to  his  charge,  yet  his  hard  fortunes  and  un- 
untimely  end  have  failed  to  awaken  the  usual  interest  and 
sympathy.  He  had  been  schooled  in  adversity  from  his  early 
youth,  yet  he  failed  to  profit  by  it.  Carrying  about  with  him 
the  wretched  relics  of  an  effeminate  court,  he  sought  only  his 
personal  safety,  and  wanted  the  courage  and  magnanimity  to 
throw  himself  at  the  head  of  his  armies,  and  battle  for  bis 
crown  and  country  like  a  great  sovereign  and  a  patriot  prince. 

Empires,  however,  like  all  other  things,  have  their  allotted 
time,  and  die,  if  not  by  violence,  at  length  of  imbecility  and 
old  age.  That  of  Persia  had  long  since  lost  its  stamina,  and 
the  energy  of  a  Cyrus  would  have  been  unable  to  infuse  new 
life  into  its  gigantic  but  palsied  limbs.  At  the  death  of  Yezde- 
gird it  fell  under  the  undisputed  sway  of  the  Caliphs,  and  be- 
came little  better  than  a  subject  province.* 


CHAPTER    XXXV. 

AMRU  DISPLACED  FROM  THE  GOVERNMENT  OP  EGYPT — REVOLT 
OF  THE  INHABITANTS — ALEXANDRIA  RETAKEN  BY  THE  IMPERI- 
ALISTS— AMRU  REINSTATED  IN  COMMAND — RETAKES  ALEXAN- 
DRIA, AND  TRANQUILLIZES  EGYPT— IS  AGAIN  DISPLACED  — AB- 
DALLAH  IBN  SAAD  INVADES  THE  NORTH  OF  AFRICA. 

"In  the  conquests  of  Syria,  Persia,  and  Egypt,"  says  a  mod- 
ern writer,  ' '  the  fresh  and  vigorous  enthusiasm  of  the  personal 
companions  and  proselytes  of  Mahomet  was  exercised  and  ex- 

*  According  to  popular  traditions  in  Persia.  Yezdegird,  in  the  course  of  his 
wanderings,  took  refuge  for  a  time  in  the  castle  of  Fahender,  near  Schiraz,  and 
buried  the  crown  jewels  and  treasures  of  Nushirwan.  in  a  deep  pit  or  well  under 
the  castle,  where  they  still  remain  guarded  by  a  talisman,  so  that  they  cannot  be 
found  or  drawn  forth.  Others  say  that  he  had  them  removed  and  deposited  in 
trust  with  the  Khacan,  or  emperor  of  Chin  or  Tartary.  After  the  extinction  of 
the  royal  Persian  dynasty,  those  treasures  and  the  crown  remained  in  Chin. — Sir 
William  Ouselcy's  Travels  in  the  East,  vol.  ii    p.  34. 


MAUOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  381 

pended,  and  the  generation  of  warriors  whose  simple  fanati- 
cism had  heen  inflamed  by  the  preaching  of  the  pseudo  prophet, 
was  in  a  great  measure  consumed  in  the  sanguinary  and  per- 
petual toils  of  ten  arduous  campaigns." 

We  shall  now  see  the  effect  of  those  conquests  on  the  na- 
tional character  and  habits ;  the  avidity  of  place  and  power 
and  wealth  superseding  religious  enthusiasm ;  and  the  enervat- 
ing luxury  and  soft  voluptuousness  of  Syria  and  Persia  sap- 
ping the  rude  but  masculine  simplicity  of  the  Arabian  desert. 
Above  all,  the  single-mindedness  of  Mahomet  and  his  two 
immediate  successors  is  at  an  end.  Other  objects  beside  the 
mere  advancement  of  Islam  ism  distract  the  attention  of  its 
leading  professors ;  and  the  struggle  for  worldly  wealth  and 
worldly  sway,  for  the  advancement  of  pi'ivate  ends,  and  tha 
aggrandizement  of  particular  tribes  and  families,  destroy  tho, 
unity  of  the  empire,  and  beset  the  Caliphat  with  intrigue,  trea- 
son, and  bloodshed. 

It  was  a  great  matter  of  reproach  against  the  Caliph  Oth- 
man  that  he  was  injudicious  in  his  appointments,  and  had  an 
inveterate  propensity  to  consult  the  interests  of  his  relatives 
and  friends  before  that  of  the  public.  One  of  his  greatest  er- 
rors in  this  respect  was  the  removal  of  Amru  Ibn  Al  Aass  from 
the  government  of  Egypt,  and  the  appointment  of  his  own 
foster-brother,  Abdallah  Ibn  Saad,  in  his  place.  This  was  the 
same  Abdallah  who,  in  acting  as  amanuensis  to  Mahomet,  and 
writing  down  his  revelations,  had  interpolated  passages  of  his 
own,  sometimes  of  a  ludicrous  nature.  For  this  and  for  his 
apostasy  he  had  been  pardoned  by  Mahomet  at  the  solicitation 
of  Othman,  and  had  ever  since  acted  with  apparent  zeal,  his 
interest  coinciding  with  his  duty. 

He  was  of  a  courageous  spirit,  and  one  of  the  most  expert 
horsemen  of  Arabia ;  but  what  might  have  fitted  him  to  com- 
mand a  horde  of  the  desert  was  insufficient  for  the  govern- 
ment of  a  conquered  province.  He  was  new  and  inexperienced 
in  his  present  situation ;  whereas  Amru  had  distinguished  him- 
self as  a  legislator  as  well  as  a  conqueror,  and  had  already  won 
the  affections  of  the  Egyptians  by  his  attention  to  their  inter- 
ests, and  his  respect  for  their  customs  and  habitudes.  His 
dismission  was,  therefore,  resented  by  the  people,  and  a  dis- 
position was  manifested  to  revolt  against  the  new  governor. 

The  emperor  Constantine,  who  had  succeeded  to  his  father 
Heraclius,  hastened  to  take  advantage  of  these  circumstances. 
A  fleet  and  army  were  sent  against  Alexandria  under  a  prefect 


3S2  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

named  Manuel.  The  Greeks  in  the  city  secretly  co-operated 
with  him,  and  the  metropolis  was,  partly  by  force  of  arms, 
partly  by  treachery,  recaptured  by  the  imperialists  without 
much  bloodshed. 

Othman,  made  painfully  sensible  of  the  error  he  had  com- 
mitted, hastened  to  revoke  the  appointment  of  his  foster- 
brother,  and  reinstated  Amru  in  the  command  in  Egyp'j. 
That  able  general  went  instantly  against  Alexandria  with  an 
army,  in  which  were  many  Copts,  irreconcilable  enemies  of 
the  Greeks.  Among  these  was  the  traitor  Makawkas,  who, 
from  his  knowledge  of  the  country  and  his  influence  among 
its  inhabitants,  was  able  to  procure  abundant  supplies  for  the 
army. 

The  Greek  garrison  defended  the  city  bravely  and  obsti- 
nately. Amru,  enraged  at  having  thus  again  to  lay  siege  to  a 
place  which  he  had  twice  already  taken,  swore,  by  Allah,  that 
if  he  should  master  it  a  third  time,  he  would  render  it  as  easy 
of  access  as  a  brothel.  He  kept  his  word,  for  when  he  took 
the  city  he  threw  down  the  walls  and  demolished  all  the  forti- 
fications. He  was  merciful,  however,  to  the  inhabitants,  and 
checked  the  fury  of  the  Saracens,  who  were  slaughtering  all 
they  met.  A  mosque  was  afterward  erected  on  the  spot  at 
which  he  stayed  the  carnage,  called  the  Mosque  of  Mercy. 
Manuel,  the  Greek  general,  found  it  expedient  to  embark  with 
all  speed  with  such  of  his  troops  as  he  could  save,  and  make 
sail  for  Constantinople. 

Scarce,  however,  had  Amru  quelled  every  insurrection  and 
secured  the  Moslem  domination  in  Egypt,  when  he  was  again 
displaced  from  the  government,  and  Abdallah  Ibn  Saad  ap- 
pointed a  second  time  in  his  stead. 

Abdallah  had  been  deeply  mortified  by  the  loss  of  Alexan- 
dria, which  had  been  ascribed  to  his  incapacity ;  he  was  emu- 
lous too  of  the  renown  of  Amru,  and  felt  the  necessity  of 
vindicating  his  claims  to  command  by  some  brilliant  achieve- 
ment. The  north  of  Africa  presented  a  new  field  for  Moslem 
enterprise.  "We  allude  to  that  vast  tract  extending  west  from 
the  desert  of  Libya  or  Barca,  to  Cape  Non,  embracing  more 
than  two  thousand  miles  of  sea-coast;  comprehending  the 
ancient  divisions  of  Mamarica,  Cyrenaica,  Carthage,  Numidia, 
and  Mauritania ;  or,  according  to  modern  geographical  desig- 
nations, Barca,  Tripoli,  Tunis,  Algiers,  and  Morocco. 

A  few  words  respecting  the  historical  vicissitudes  of  this 
once  powerful  region  may  not  be  inappropriate.     The  original 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  383 

inhabitants  are  supposed  to  have  come  at  a  remote  time  from 
Asia;  or  rather,  it  is  said,  that  an  influx  of  Arabs  drove  the 
original  inhabitants  from  the  sea-coast  to  the  mountains,  and 
the  borders  of  the  interior  desert,  and  continued  their  nomade 
and  pastoral  life  along  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean. 
About  nine  hundred  years  before  the  Christian  era,  the  Phoe- 
nicians of  Tyre  founded  colonies  along  the  coast;  of  these  Car- 
thage was  the  greatest.  By  degrees  it  extended  its  influence 
along  the  African  shores  and  the  opposite  coast  of  Spain,  and 
rose  in  prosperity  and  power  until  it  became  a  rival  republic 
to  Rome.  On  the  wars  between  Rome  and  Carthage  it  is  need- 
less to  dilate.  They  ended  in  the  downfall  of  the  Carthaginian 
republic  and  the  domination  of  Rome  over  Northern  Africa. 

This  domination  continued  for  about  four  centuries,  until  the 
Roman  prefect  Bonif acius  invited  over  the  Vandals  from  Spain 
to  assist  him  in  a  feud  with  a  political  rival.  The  invitation 
proved  fatal  to  Roman  ascendancy.  The  Vandals,  aided  by 
the  Moors  and  Berbers,  and  by  numerous  Christian  sectarians 
recently  expelled  from  the  Catholic  Church,  aspired  to  gain 
possession  of  the  country,  and  succeeded.  Genseric,  the  Van- 
dal general,  captured  and  pillaged  Carthage,  and  having  sub- 
jugated Northern  Africa,  built  a  navy,  invaded  Italy,  and 
sacked  Rome.  The  domination  of  the  Vandals  by  sea  and  land 
lasted  above  half  a  century.  In  533  and  534  Africa  was  re- 
gained by  Belisarius  for  the  Roman  empire,  and  the  Vandals 
were  driven  out  of  the  land.  After  the  departure  of  Beli- 
sarius the  Moors  rebelled,  and  made  repeated  attempts  to  get 
the  dominion,  but  were  as  often  defeated  with  great  loss,  and 
the  Roman  sway  was  once  more  established. 

All  these  wars  and  changes  had  a  disastrous  effect  on  the 
African  provinces.  The  Vandals  had  long  disappeared ;  many 
of  the  Moorish  families  had  been  extirpated;  the  wealthy 
inhabitants  had  fled  to  Sicily  and  Constantinople,  and  a  stran- 
ger might  wander  whole  days  over  regions  once  covered  with 
towns  and  cities,  and  teeming  with  population,  without  meet- 
ing a  human  being. 

For  near  a  century  the  country  remained  sunk  in  apathy 
and  inaction,  until  now  it  was  to  be  roused  from  its  torpor  by 
the  all-pervading  armies  of  Islam. 

Soon  after  the  reappointment  of  Abdallah  to  the  govern- 
ment of  Egypt,  he  set  out  upon  the  conquest  of  this  country, 
at  the  head  of  forty  thousand  Arabs.  After  crossing  the 
western  boundary  of  Egypt  he  had  to  traverse  the  desert  of 


384  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

Libya,  but  bis  army  was  provided  with  camels  accustomed  to 
the  sandy  wastes  of  Arabia,  and,  after  a  toilsome  march,  he  en- 
camped before  the  walls  of  Tripoli,  then,  as  now,  one  of  the 
most  wealthy  and  powerful  cities  of  the  Barbary  coast.  The 
place  was  well  fortified,  and  made  good  resistance.  A  body  of 
Greek  troops  which  were  sent  to  reinforce  it  were  surprised 
by  the  besiegers  on  the  sea-coast,  and  dispersed  with  great 
slaughter. 

The  Roman  prefect  Gregorius  having  assembled  an  army  of 
one  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  men,  a  great  proportion  of 
whom  were  the  hastily  levied  and  undisciplined  tribes  of 
Barbary,  advanced  to  defend  his  province.  He  was  accom- 
panied by  an  Amazonian  daughter  of  wonderful  beauty,  who 
had  been  taught  to  manage  the  horse,  to  draw  the  bow,  and 
wield  the  scimetar,  and  who  was  always  at  her  father's  side  in 
battle. 

Hearing  of  the  approach  of  this  army,  Abdallah  suspended 
the  siege  and  advanced  to  meet  it.  A  brief  parley  took 
place  betwceu  the  hostile  commanders.  Abdallah  proposed 
the  usual  alternatives,  profession  of  Islamism  or  payment  of 
tribute.  Both  were  indignantly  rejected.  The  armies  engaged 
before  the  walls  of  Tripoli.  Abdallah,  whose  fame  was  staked 
on  this  enterprise,  stimulated  his  troops  by  word  and  example, 
and  charged  the  enemy  repeatedly  at  the  head  of  his  squad- 
rons. Wherever  he  pressed  the  fortune  of  the  day  would  in- 
cline in  favor  of  the  Moslems ;  but  on  the  other  hand  Grego- 
rius fought  with  desperate  bravery,  as  the  fate  of  the  province 
depended  on  this  conflict;  and  wherever  he  appeared  his 
daughter  was  at  his  side,  dazzling  all  eyes  by  the  splendor  of 
her  armor  and  the  heroism  of  her  achievements.  The  contest 
was  long,  arduous,  and  uncertain.  It  was  not  one  drawn 
battle,  but  a  succession  of  conflicts,  extending  through  several 
days,  beginning  at  early  dawn,  but  ceasing  toward  noon, 
when  the  intolerable  heat  of  the  sun  obliged  both  armies  to 
desist,  and  seek  the  shade  of  their  tents. 

The  prefect  Gregorius  was  exasperated  at  being  in  a  manner 
held  at  bay  by  an  inferior  force,  which  he  had  expected  to 
crush  by  the  superiority  of  numbers^  Seeing  that  Abdallah 
was  the  life  and  soul  of  his  army,  he  proclaimed  a  reward  of 
one  hundred  thousand  pieces  of  gold  and  the  hand  of  his 
daughter  to  the  warrior  who  should  bring  him  his  head. 

The  excitement  caused  among  the  Grecian  youth  by  this 
tempting  prize  made  the  officers  of  Abdallah  tremble  for  his 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  385 

safety.  They  represented  to  him  the  importance  of  his  life  to 
the  army  and  the  general  cause,  and  prevailed  upon  him  to 
keep  aloof  from  the  field  of  battle.  His  absence,  however,  pro- 
duced an  immediate  change,  and  the  valor  of  his  troops, 
hitherto  stimulated  by  his  presence,  began  to  languish. 

Zobeir,  a  noble  Arab  of  the  tribe  of  Koreish,  arrived  at  tbe 
field  of  battle  with  a  small  reinforcement,  in  the  heat  of  one  of 
the  engagements.  He  found  the  troops  fighting  to  a  disadvan- 
tage, and  looked  round  in  vain  for  the  general.  Being  told 
that  he  was  in  his  tent,  he  hastened  thither  and  reproached 
him  with  his  inactivity.  Abdallah  blushed,  but  explained  the 
reason  of  his  remaining  passive.  ' '  Retort  on  the  infidel  com- 
mander his  perfidious  bribe,"  cried  Zobeir;  "  proclaim  that  his 
daughter  as  a  captive,  and  one  hundred  thousand  pieces  of 
gold,  shall  be  the  reward  of  the  Moslem  who  brings  his  head." 
The  advice  was  adopted,  as  well  as  the  following  stratagem 
suggested  by  Zobeir.  On  the  next  morning  Abdallah  sent 
forth  only  sufficient  force  to  keep  up  a  defensive  fight;  but 
when  the  sun  had  reached  its  noontide  height,  and  the  panting 
troops  retired  as  usual  to  their  tents,  Abdallah  and  Zobeir  sal- 
lied forth  at  the  head  of  the  reserve,  and  charged  furiously 
among  the  fainting  Greeks.  Zobeir  singled  out  the  prefect, 
and  slew  him  after  a  well-contested  fight.  His  daughter 
pressed  forward  to  avenge  his  death,  but  was  surrounded  and 
made  prisoner.  The  Grecian  army  was  completely  routed,  and 
fled  to  the  opulent  town  of  Safetula,  which  was  taken  and 
sacked  by  the  Moslems. 

The  battle  was  over,  Gregorius  had  fallen,  but  no  one  came 
forward  to  claim  the  reward  set  upon  his  head.  His  captive 
daughter,  however,  on  beholding  Zobeir,  broke  forth  into 
tears  and  exclamations,  and  thus  revealed  the  modest  victor. 
Zobeir  refused  to  accept  the  maiden  or  the  gold.  He  fought, 
he  said,  for  the  faith,  not  for  earthly  objects,  and  looked  for 
his  reward  in  paradise.  In  honor  of  Ms  achievements  he  was 
sent  with  tidings  of  this  victory  to  the  Caliph;  but  when  lie 
announced  it,  in  the  great  mosque  at  Medina,  in  presence  of  the 
assembled  people,  he  made  no  mention  of  his  own  services. 
His  modesty  enhanced  his  merits  in  the  eyes  of  the  public,  and 
his  name  was  placed  by  the  Moslems  beside  of  those  of  Khaled 
and  Amru. 

Abdallah  found  his  forces  too  much  reduced  and  enfeebled 
by  battle  and  disease  to  enable  him  to  maintain  possession  of 
the  country  he  had  subdued,  and  after  a  campaign  of  fifteen 


'3$6  MAHOMET  AND  ITIS  SUCCESSORS. 

months  he  led  hack  his  victorious,  hut  diminished  army  into 
Egypt,  encumbered  with  captives  and  laden  with  booty. 

He  afterward,  by  the  Caliph's  command,  assembled  an  army 
in  the  Thebaid  or  Upper  Egypt,  and  thence  made  numerous 
successful  excursions  into  Nubia,  the  Christian  king  of  which 
was  reduced  to  make  a  humiliating  treaty,  by  which  he  bound 
liimself  to  send  annually  to  the  Moslem  commander  in  Egypt 
a  great  number  of  Nubian  or  Ethiopian  slaves  by  way  of 
tribute. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

MOAWYAH,  EMIR  OF  SYRIA— HIS  NAVAL  VICTORIES  —  OTHMAN 
LOSES  THE  PROPHET'S  RING— SUPPRESSES  ERRONEOUS  COPIES 
OF  THE  KORAN— CONSPIRACIES  AGAINST  HIM— HIS  DEATH. 

Among  the  distinguished  Moslems  who  held  command  of  the 
distant  provinces  during  the  Caliphat  of  Othman,  was  Moa- 
wyah  Ibn  Abu  Sofian.  As  his  name  denotes,  he  was  the  son  of 
Abu  Sofian,  the  early  foe  and  subsequent  proselyte  of  Ma- 
homet. On  his  father's  death  he  had  become  chief  of  the  tribe 
of  Koreish,  and  head  of  the  family  of  Omeya  or  Ommiah.  The 
late  Caliph  Omar,  about  four  years  before  his  death,  had  ap- 
pointed him  emir,  or  governor  of  Syria,  and  he  was  continued 
in  that  office  by  Othman.  He  was  between  thirty  and  forty 
years  of  age,  enterprising,  courageous,  of  quick  sagacity,  ex- 
tended views,  and  lofty  aims.  Having  the  maritime  coast  and 
ancient  ports  of  Syria  under  his  command,  he  aspired  to  ex- 
tend the  triumphs  of  the  Moslem  arms  by  sea  as  well  as  land. 
He  had  repeatedly  endeavored,  but  in  vain,  to  obtain  permis- 
sion from  Omar  to  make  a  naval  expedition,  that  Caliph  being 
always  apprehensive  of  the  too  wide  and  rapid  extension  of  the 
enterprises  of  his  generals.  Under  Othman  he  was  more  suc- 
cessful, and  in  the  twenty-seventh  year  of  the  Hegira  was 
permitted  to  fit  out  a  fleet,  with  which  he  launched  forth  on 
the  Sea  of  Tarshish,  or  the  Phoenician  Sea,  by  both  which 
names  the  eastern  part  of  the  Mediterranean  Sea  was  desig- 
nated in  ancient  times. 

His  first  enterprise  was  against  the  island  of  Cyprus,  which 
•was  still  held  in  allegiance  to  the  emperor  of  Constantinople. 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  387 

The  Christian  garrison  was  weak,  and  the  inhabitants  of  the 
island  soon  submitted  to  pay  tribute  to  the  Caliph. 

His  next  enterprise  was  against  the  island  of  Aradus,  where 
he  landed  his  troops  and  besieged  the  city  or  fortress,  batter- 
ing it  with  military  engines.  The  inhabitants  made  vigorous 
resistance,  repelled  him  from  the  island,  and  it  was  only  after 
he  had  come  a  second  time,  with  superior  force,  that  he  was 
able  to  subdue  it.  He  then  expelled  the  natives,  demolished 
the  fortifications,  and  set  fire  to  the  city. 

His  most  brilliant  achievement,  however,  was  a  battle  with 
a  large  fleet,  in  which  the  emperor  was  cruising  in  the  Phoeni- 
cian Sea.  It  was  called  in  Arab  history  The  Battle  of  Masts, 
from  the  forest  of  masts  in  the  imperial  fleet.  The  Christians 
went  into  action  singing  psahns  and  elevating  the  cross,  the 
Moslems  repeating  texts  of  the  Koran,  shouting  Allah  Achbar, 
and  waving  the  standard  of  Islam.  The  battle  was  severe; 
the  imperial  fleet  dispersed,  and  the  emperor  escaped  by  dint 
of  sads  and  oars. 

Moawyah  now  swept  the  seas  victoriously,  made  landings 
on  Crete  and  Malta,  captured  the  island  of  Rhodes,  demolished 
its  famous  colossal  statue  of  brass,  and,  having  broken  it  to 
pieces,  transported  the  fragments  to  Alexandria,  where  they 
were  sold  to  a  Jewish  merchant  of  Edissa,  and  were  sufficient 
to  load  nine  hundred  camels.  He  had  another  fight  with  a 
Christian  fleet  in  the  bay  of  Feneke,  by  Castel  Rosso,  in  which 
both  parties  claimed  the  victory.  He  even  carried  his  expedi- 
tions along  the  coasts  of  Asia  Minor,  and  to  the  very  port  of 
Constantinople. 

These  naval  achievements,  a  new  feature  in  Arab  warfare, 
rendered  Moawyah  exceedingly  popular  in  Syria,  and  laid  the 
foundation  for  that  power  and  importance  to  which  he  subse- 
quently attained. 

It  is  worthy  of  remark  how  the  triumphs  of  an  ignorant 
people,  who  had  heretofore  dwelt  obscurely  in  the  midst  of 
their  deserts,  were  overrunning  all  the  historical  and  poetical 
regions  of  antiquity.  They  had  invaded  and  subdued  the  once 
mighty  empires  on  land,  they  had  now  launched  forth  from 
the  old  scriptural  ports  of  Tyre  and  Sidon,  swept  the  Sea  of 
Tarshish,  and  were  capturing  the  isles  rendered  famous  by 
classic  fable. 

In  the  midst  of  these  foreign  successes  an  incident,  con- 
sidered full  of  sinister  import,  happened  to  Othman.  He  ac- 
cidentally dropped  in  a  brook  a  silver  ring,  on  which  was 


388  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

inscribed  "Mahomet  the  apostle  of  God."  It  had  originally 
belonged  to  Mahomet,  and  since  his  death  had  been  worn  by 
Abu  Beker,  Omar,  and  Othman,  as  the  symbol  of  command, 
as  rings  had  been  considered  throughout  the  East  from  the 
earliest  times.  The  brook  was  searched  with  the  most  anxious 
care,  but  the  ring  was  not  to  be  found.  This  was  an  ominous 
loss  in  the  eyes  of  the  superstitious  Moslems. 

It  happened  about  this  time  that,  scandalized  by  the  various 
versions  of  the  Koran,  and  the  disputes  that  prevailed  concern- 
ing their  varying  texts,  he  decreed,  in  a  council  of  the  chief 
Moslems,  that  all  copies  of  the  Koran  which  did  not  agree  with 
the  genuine  one  in  the  hands  of  Hafza,  the  widow  of  Mahomet, 
should  be  burnt.  Seven  copies  of  Hafza's  Koran  were  accord- 
ingly made;  six  were  sent  to  Mecca,  Yemen,  Syria,  Babrien, 
Bassora,  and  Cufa,  and  one  was  retained  in  Medina.  All 
copies  varying  from  these  were  to  be  given  to  the  flames. 
This  measure  caused  Othman  to  be  called  the  Gatherer  of  the 
Koran.  It,  at  any  rate,  prevented  any  further  vitiation  of  the 
sacred  Scripture  of  Islam,  which  has  remained  unchanged 
from  that  time  to  the  present.  Besides  this  pious  act,  Othman 
caused  a  wall  to  be  budt  round  the  sacred  house  of  the  Caaba, 
and  enlarged  and  beautified  the  mosque  of  the  prophet  in 
Medina. 

Notwithstanding  all  this,  disaffection  and  intrigue  were 
springing  up  round  the  venerable  Caliph  in  Medina.  He  was 
brave,  open-handed,  and  munificent,  but  he  wanted  shrewd- 
ness and  discretion ;  was  prone  to  favoritism ;  very  credulous, 
and  easily  deceived. 

Murmurs  rose  against  him  on  all  sides,  and  daily  increased 
in  virulence.  His  conduct,  both  public  and  private,  was  re- 
viewed, and  circumstances,  which  had  been  passed  by  as 
trivial,  were  magnified  into  serious  offences.  He  was  charged 
with  impious  presumption  in  having  taken  his  stand,  on  being 
first  made  Caliph,  on  the  uppermost  step  of  the  pulpit,  where 
Mahomet  himself  used  to  stand,  whereas  Abu  Beker  had  stood 
one  step  lower,  and  Omar  two.  A  graver  accusation,  and  one 
too  well  merited,  was  that  he  had  displaced  men  of  worth, 
eminent  for  their  services,  and  given  their  places  to  his  own 
relatives  and  favorites.  This  was  especially  instanced  in  dis- 
missing Amru  Ibn  al  Aass  from  the  government  of  Egypt,  and 
appointing  in  his  stead  his  own  brother  Abdallah  Ibn  Saad, 
who  had  once  been  proscribed  by  Mahomet.  Another  accusa< 
tion  was,  that  he  had  lavished  the  public  money  upon  para- 


MA  110 MET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  3S9 

sites,  giving  one  hundred  thousand  dinars  to  one,  four  hundred 
thousand  to  another,  and  no  less  than  five  hundred  and  four 
thousand  upon  his  secretary  of  state,  Merwan  Ibn  Hakem, 
who  had,  it  was  said,  an  undue  ascendency  over  him,  and  was, 
in  fact,  the  subtle  and  active  spirit  of  his  government.  The 
last  sum,  it  was  alleged,  was  taken  out  of  a  portion  of  the 
spoils  of  Africa,  which  had  been  set  apart  for  the  family  of  the 
prophet. 

The  ire  of  the  old  Caliph  was  kindled  at  having  his  lavish 
liberality  thus  charged  upon  him  as  a  crime.  He  mounted  the 
pulpit  and  declared  that  the  money  in  the  treasury  belonged  to 
God,  the  distribution  to  the  Caliph  at  his  own  discretion  as 
successor  of  the  prophet ;  and  he  prayed  God  to  confound  who- 
ever should  gainsay  what  he  had  set  forth. 

Upon  this  Ammar  Ibn  Yaser,  one  of  the  primitive  Moslems, 
of  whom  Mahomet  himself  had  said  that  he  was  filled  with 
faith  from  the  crown  of  his  head  to  the  sole  of  his  foot,  rose 
and  disputed  the  words  of  Othman,  whereupon  some  of  the 
Caliph's  kindred  of  the  house  of  Ommiah  fell  upon  the  venera- 
ble Ammar  and  beat  him  until  he  fainted. 

The  outrage  offered  to  the  person  of  one  of  the  earliest  disci- 
ples and  especial  favorites  of  the  prophet  was  promulgated  far 
and  wide,  and  contributed  to  the  general  discontent,  which 
now  assumed  the  aspect  of  rebellion.  The  ringleader  of  the 
disaffected  was  Ibn  Caba,  formerly  a  Jew.  This  son  of  mis- 
chief made  a  factious  tour  from  Yemen  to  Hidschaf ,  thence  to 
Bassora,  to  Cufa,  to  Syria,  and  Egypt,  decrying  the  Caliph  and 
the  emirs  he  had  appointed;  declaring  that  the  Caliphat  had 
been  usurped  by  Othman  from  Ali,  to  whom  it  rightly  be- 
longed, as  the  nearest  relative  of  the  prophet,  and  suggesting 
by  word  of  mouth  and  secret  correspondence,  that  the  mal- 
contents should  assemble  simultaneously  ha  various  parts 
under  pretext  of  a  pilgrimage  to  Mecca. 

The  plot  of  the  renegade  Jew  succeeded.  In  the  fulness  of 
thne  deputations  arrived  from  all  parts.  One  amounting  to 
a  hundred  and  fifty  persons  from  Bassora;  another  of  two 
hundred  under  Malec  Alashtar  from  Cufa;  a  third  of  six  hun- 
dred from  Egypt  headed  by  Mahomet,  the  son  of  Abu  Beker, 
and  brother  of  Ayesha,  together  with  numbers  of  a  sect  of 
zealots  called  Karegites,  who  took  the  lead.  These  deputies 
encamped  like  an  army  within  a  league  of  Medina  and  sum- 
moned the  Caliph  by  message  either  to  redress  their  grievances 
or  to  abdicate. 


390  MAHOMET  AND  EIS  SUCCESSORS. 

Othman  in  consternation  applied  to  Ali  to  go  forth  and  pacify 
the  multitude.  He  consented  on  condition  that  Othman  would 
previously  make  atonement  for  his  errors  from  the  pulpit. 
Harassed  and  dismayed,  the  aged  Caliph  mounted  the  pulpit, 
and  with  a  voice  broken  by  sobs  and  tears,  exclaimed,  lhKy 
God,  I  beg  pardon  of  thee,  and  turn  to  thee  with  penitence  and 
sorrow."  The  whole  assemblage  were  moved  and  softened,  and 
wept  with  the  Caliph. 

Merwan,  the  intriguing  and  well-paid  secretary  of  Othman, 
and  the  soul  of  his  government,  had  been  absent  during  these 
occurrences,  and  on  returning  reproached  the  Caliph  with  what 
he  termed  an  act  of  weakness.  Having  his  permission,  he  ad- 
dressed the  populace  in  a  strain  that  soon  roused  them  to  ten- 
fold ire.  Ali,  hereupon,  highly  indignant,  renounced  any 
further  interference  in  the  matter. 

Naile,  the  wife  of  Othman,  who  had  heard  the  words  of 
Merwan,  and  beheld  the  fury  of  the  people,  warned  her  hus- 
band of  the  storm  gathering  over  his  head,  and  prevailed  upon 
him  again  to  solicit  the  mediation  of  Ali.  The  latter  suffered 
himself  to  be  persuaded,  and  went  forth  among  the  insurgents. 
Partly  by  good  words  and  liberal  donations  from  the  treasury, 
partly  by  a  written  promise  from  the  Caliph  to  redress  all  their 
grievances,  the  insurgents  were  quieted,  all  but  the  deputies 
from  Egypt  who  came  to  complain  against  the  Caliph's  foster- 
brother,  Abdallah  Ibn  Saad,  who  they  said  had  oppressed  them 
with  exactions,  and  lavished  their  blood  in  campaigns  in  Bar- 
bary,  merely  for  his  own  fame  and  profit,  without  retaining  a 
foothold  in  the  country.  To  pacify  these  complainants,  Oth- 
man displaced  Abdallah  from  the  government,  and  left  them 
to  name  his  successor.  They  unanimously  named  Mahomet, 
the  brother  of  Ayesha,  who  had  in  fact  been  used  by  that  in- 
triguing woman  as  a  firebrand  to  kindle  this  insurrection ;  her 
object  being  to  get  Telha  appointed  to  the  Caliphat. 

The  insurgent  camp  now  broke  up.  Mahomet  with  his  fol- 
lowers set  out  to  take  possession  of  his  post,  and  the  aged 
Caliph  flattered  himself  he  would  once  more  be  left  in  peace. 

Three  days  had  Mahomet  and  his  train  been  on  their  journey, 
when  they  were  overtaken  by  a  black  slave  on  a  dromedary. 
They  demanded  who  he  was,  and  whither  he  was  travelling  so 
rapidly.  He  gave  himself  out  as  a  slave  of  the  secretary  Mer- 
wan, bearing  a  message  from  the  Caliph  to  his  emir  in  Egypt. 
"  I  am  the  emir,"  said  Mahomet.  "My  errand,"  said  the  slave, 
"  is  to  the  emir  Abdallah  Ibn  Saad."    He  was  asked  if  he  had 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  391 

a  letter,  and  on  his  prevaricating  was  searched.  A  letter  was 
found  concealed  in  a  water-flask.  It  was  from  the  Caliph, 
briefly  ordering  the  emir,  on  the  arrival  of  Mahomet  Ibn  Abu 
Beker,  to  make  way  with  him  secretly,  destroy  his  diploma, 
and  imprison,  until  further  orders,  those  who  had  brought 
complaints  to  Medina. 

Mahomet  Ibn  Abu  Beker  returned  furious  to  Medina,  and 
showed  the  perfidious  letter  to  Ali,  Zobeir,  and  Telha,  who 
repaired  with  him  to  Othman.  The  latter  denied  any  knowl- 
edge of  the  letter.  It  must  then,  they  said,  be  a  forgery  of 
Merwan's,  and  requested  that  he  might  be  summoned.  Oth- 
man would  not  credit  such  treason  on  the  part  of  his  secretary, 
and  insisted  it  must  have  been  a  treacherous  device  of  one  of 
his  enemies.  Medina  was  now  in  a  ferment.  There  was  a 
gathering  of  the  people.  All  were  incensed  at  such  an  atro- 
cious breach  of  faith,  and  insisted  that  if  the  letter  originated 
with  Othman,  he  should  resign  the  Caliphat ;  if  with  Merwan, 
that  he  should  receive  the  merited  punishment.  Their  de- 
mands had  no  effect  upon  the  Caliph. 

Mahomet  Ibn  Abu  Beker  now  sent  off  swift  messengers  to 
recall  the  recent  insurgents  from  the  provinces,  who  were  re- 
turning home,  and  to  call  in  aid  from  the  neighboring  tribes. 
The  dwelling  of  Othman  was  beleaguered ;  the  alternative  was 
left  him  to  deliver  up  Merwan  or  to  abdicate.  He  refused  both. 
His  life  was  now  threatened.  He  barricadoed  himself  in  his 
dwelling.  The  supply  of  water  was  cut  off.  If  he  made  his 
appearance  on  the  terraced  roof  he  was  assailed  with  stones. 
Ali,  Zobeir,  and  Telha  endeavored  to  appease  the  multitude, 
but  they  were  deaf  to  their  entreaties.  Saad  Ibn  al  Aass  ad- 
vised the  Caliph,  as  the  holy  month  was  at  hand,  to  sally  forth 
on  a  pilgrimage  to  Mecca,  as  the  piety  of  the  undertaking  and 
the  sanctity  of  the  pilgrim  garb  would  protect  him.  Othman 
rejected  the  advice.  "If  they  seek  my  life,"  said  he,  "they 
will  not  respect  the  pilgrim  garb." 

Ali,  Zobeir,  and  Telha,  seeing  the  danger  imminent,  sent  their 
three  sons,  Hassan,  Abdallah,  and  Mahomet,  to  protect  the 
house.  They  stationed  themselves  by  the  door,  and  for  some 
time  kept  the  rebels  at  bay ;  but  the  rage  of  the  latter  knew 
no  bounds.  They  stormed  the  house;  Hassan  was  wounded 
in  its  defence.  The  rebels  rushed  in  ;  among  the  foremost 
was  Mahomet,  the  brother  of  Ayesha,  and  Anmier  Ibn  Yaser, 
whom  Othman  had  ordered  to  be  beaten.  They  found  the 
venerable  Caliph  seated  on  a  cushion,  his  beard  flowing  on  his 


392  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

"breast ;  the  Koran  open  on  his  lap,  and  his  wife  Naile  beside 
hhn. 

One  of  the  rebels  struck  him  on  the  head,  another  stabbed 
him  repeatedly  with  a  sword,  and  Mahomet  Ibn  Abu  Beker 
thrust  a  javelin  into  his  body  after  he  was  dead.  His  wife  was 
wounded  in  endeavoring  to  protect  him,  and  her  life  was  only 
saved  through  the  fidelity  of  a  slave.  His  house  was  plundered, 
as  were  some  of  the  neighboring  houses,  and  two  chambers  of 
the  treasury. 

As  soon  as  the  invidious  Ayesha  heard  that  the  murder  was 
accomplished,  she  went  forth  in  hypocritical  guise  loudly  be- 
wailing the  death  of  a  man  to  whom  she  had  secretly  been  hos- 
tile, and  joining  with  the  Ommiah  family  in  calling  for  blood 
revenge. 

The  noble  and  virtuous  Ali,  with  greater  sincerity,  was  in- 
censed at  his  sons  for  not  sacrificing  their  lives  in  defence  of 
the  Caliph,  and  reproached  the  sons  of  Telha  and  Zobeir  with 
being  lukewarm.  ' '  Why  are  you  so  angry,  father  of  Hassan?" 
said  Telha;  "had  Othman  given  up  Merwan  this  evil  would 
not  have  happened." 

In  fact,  it  has  been  generally  affirmed  that  the  letter  really 
was  written  by  Merwan,  without  the  knowledge  of  the  Caliph, 
and  was  intended  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  Mahomet,  and  pro- 
duce the  effect  which  resulted  from  it.  Merwan,  it  is  alleged, 
having  the  charge  of  the  correspondence  of  the  Caliphat,  had 
ropeatedly  abused  the  confidence  of  the  weak  and  superan- 
nuated Othman  in  hke  manner,  but  not  with  such  a  nefarious 
aim.  Of  late  he  had  secretly  joined  the  cabal  against  the 
Caliph. 

The  body  of  Othman  lay  exposed  for  three  days,  and  was 
then  buried  in  the  clothes  in  which  he  was  slain,  unwashed 
and  without  any  funeral  ceremony.  He  was  eighty-two  years 
eld  at  the  time  of  his  death,  and  had  reigned  nearly  twelve 
years.  The  event  happened  in  the  thirty-fifth  year  of  the 
Hegira,  in  the  year  655  of  the  Christian  era.  Notwithstanding 
his  profusion  and  the  sums  lavished  upon  his  favorites,  immense 
treasures  wore  found  in  his  dwelling,  a  considerable  part  of 
which  he  had  set  apart  for  charitable  purposes. 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  393 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

CANDIDATES  FOR  THE  CALIPHAT— INAUGURATION  OF  ALI,  FOURTH 
CALIPH— HE  UNDERTAKES  MEASURES  OF  REFORM— THEIR  CONSE- 
QUENCES— CONSPIRACY  OF  AYESHA— SHE  GETS  POSSESSION  OF 
BASSORA. 

We  have  already  seen  that  the  faith  of  Islam  had  begun  to 
lose  its  influence  in  binding  together  the  hearts  of  the  faithful, 
and  uniting  their  feelings  and  interests  in  one  common  cause. 
The  factions  which  sprang  up  at  the  very  death  of  Mahomet 
had  increased  with  the  election  of  every  successor,  and  candi- 
dates for  the  succession  multiplied  as  the  brilliant  successes  of 
the  Moslem  arms  elevated  victorious  generals  to  popularity  and 
renown.  On  the  assassination  of  Othman,  four  candidates 
were  presented  for  the  Caliphat ;  and  the  fortuitous  assemblage 
of  deputies  from  the  various  parts  of  the  Moslem  empire 
threatened  to  make  the  election  difficult  and  tumultuous. 

The  most  prominent  candidate  was  Ali,  who  bad  the  strongest 
natural  claim,  being  cousin  and  son-in-law  of  Mahomet,  and 
his  children  by  Fatima  being  the  only  posterity  of  the  prophet. 
He  was  of  the  noblest  branch  of  the  noble  race  of  Koreish.  He 
possessed  the  three  qualities  most  prized  by  Arabs — courage, 
eloquence,  and  munificence.  His  intrepid  spirit  had  gained 
him  from  the  prophet  the  appellation  of  The  Lion  of  God; 
specimens  of  his  eloquence  remain  in  some  verses  and  sayings 
preserved  among  the  Arabs ;  and  his  munificence  was  mani- 
fested in  sharing  among  others,  every  Friday,  what  remained 
in  the  treasury.  Of  his  magnanimity  we  have  given  repeated 
instances ;  his  noble  scorn  of  everything  false  and  mean,  and 
the  absence  in  his  conduct  of  everything  like  selfish  intrigue. 

His  right  to  the  Caliphat  was  supported  by  the  people  of  Cufa, 
the  Egyptians,  and  a  great  part  of  the  Arabs  who  were  desirous 
of  a  hue  of  Caliphs  of  the  blood  of  Mahomet.  He  was  opposed, 
however,  as  formerly,  by  the  implacable  Ayesha,  who,  though 
well  stricken  in  years,  retained  an  unforgiving  recollection  of 
his  having  once  questioned  her  chastity. 

A  second  candidate  was  Zobeir,  the  same  warrior  who  dis- 
tinguished himself  by  his  valor  in  the  campaign  of  Barbary,  by 
his  modesty  in  omitting  to  mention  his  achievements,  and  in 
declining  to  accept  their  reward.  His  pretensions  to  the  Cali- 
phat were  urged  by  the  people  of  Bassora. 


394  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

A  third  candidate  was  Telha,  who  had  been  one  of  the  six 
electors  of  Othman,  and  who  had  now  the  powerful  support  of 
Ayesha. 

A  fourth  candidate  was  Moawyah,  the  military  governor  of 
Syria,  and  popular  from  his  recent  victories  by  sea  and  land. 
He  had,  moreover,  immense  wealth  to  back  his  claims,  and 
was  head  of  the  powerful  tribe  of  Koreish ;  but  he  was  distant 
from  the  scene  of  election,  and  in  his  absence  his  partisans 
could  only  promote  confusion  and  delay. 

It  was  a  day  of  tumult  and  trouble  in  Medina.  The  body  of 
Othman  was  still  unburied.  His  wife  Naile,  at  the  instigation 
of  Ayesha,  sent  off  his  bloody  vest  to  be  carried  through  the 
distant  provinces,  a  gbastly  appeal  to  the  passions  of  the  in- 
habitants. 

The  people,  apprehending  discord  and  disunion,  clamored 
for  the  instant  nomination  of  a  Caliph.  The  deputations,  which 
had  come  from  various  parts  with  complaints  against  Othman, 
became  impatient.  There  were  men  from  Babylonia  and 
Mesopotamia,  and  other  parts  of  Persia;  from  Syria  and 
Egypt,  as  well  as  from  the  three  divisions  of  Arabia ;  these  as- 
sembled tumultuously,  and  threatened  the  safety  of  the  three 
candidates,  Ali,  Telha,  and  Zobeir,  unless  an  election  were 
made  in  four-and-twenty  hours. 

In  this  dilemma,  some  of  the  principal  Moslems  repaired  to 
Ali,  and  entreated  him  to  accept  the  office.  He  consented 
with  reluctance,  but  would  do  nothing  clandestinely,  and  re- 
fused to  take  their  hands,  the  Moslem  mode  at  that  time  of 
attesting  fealty,  unless  it  were  in  public  assembly  at  the 
mosque;  lest  he  should  give  cause  of  cavil  or  dispute  to  his 
rivals.  He  refused,  also,  to  make  any  promises  or  conditions. 
"  If  I  am  elected  Caliph,"  said  he,  "I  will  administer  the  gov- 
ernment with  independence,  and  deal  with  you  all  according 
to  my  ideas  of  justice.  If  you  elect  another,  I  will  yield  obedi- 
ence to  him,  and  be  ready  to  serve  him  as  his  vizier."  They 
assented  to  everything  he  said,  and  again  entreated  him  to 
accept,  for  the  good  of  the  people  and  of  the  faith. 

On  the  following  morning  there  was  a  great  assemblage  of 
the  people  at  the  mosque,  and  Ali  presented  himself  at  the 
portal.  He  appeared  in  simple  Arab  style,  clad  in  a  thin  cot- 
ton garb  girded  round  his  loins,  a  coarse  turban,  and  using  a 
bow  as  a  walking-staff.  He  took  off  his  slippers  in  reverence 
of  the  place,  and  entered  the  mosque,  bearing  them  in  Ms  left 
hand. 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  395 

Finding  that  Telha  and  Zobeir  were  not  present,  he  caused 
them  to  be  sent  for.  They  came,  and  knowing  the  state  of 
the  public  mind,  and  that  all  immediate  opposition  would  be 
useless,  offered  their  hands  in  token  of  allegiance.  Ali  paused, 
and  asked  them  if  their  hearts  went  with  their  hands.  "Speak 
frankly,"  said  he;  "if  you  disapprove  of  my  election,  and  will 
accept  the  office,  I  will  give  my  hand  to  either  of  you."  They 
declated  their  perfect  satisfaction,  and  gave  their  hands. 
Telha's  right  arm  had  been  manned  in  the  battle  of  Ohod,  and 
he  stretched  it  forth  with  difficulty.  The  circumstance  struck 
the  Arabs  as  an  evil  omen.  ' '  It  is  likely  to  be  a  lame  business 
that  is  begun  with  a  lame  hand,"  muttered  a  bystander. 
Subsequent  events  seemed  to  justify  the  foreboding. 

Moawyah,  the  remaining  candidate,  being  absent  at  his  gov- 
ernment in  Syria,  the  whole  family  of  Ommiah,  of  which  he 
was  the  head,  withdrew  from  the  ceremony.  This  likewise 
boded  future  troubles. 

After  the  inauguration,  Telha  and  Zobeir,  with  a  view,  it  is 
said,  to  excite  disturbance,  applied  to  Ali  to  investigate  and 
avenge  the  death  of  Othman.  Ali,  who  knew  that  such  a 
measure  would  call  up  a  host  of  enemies,  evaded  the  insidious 
proposition.  It  was  not  the  moment,  he  said,  for  such  an  in- 
vestigation. The  event  had  its  origin  in  old  enmities  and  dis- 
contents instigated  by  the  devil,  and  when  the  devil  once 
gained  a  foothold,  he  never  relinquished  it  willingly.  The  very 
measure  they  recommended  was  one  of  the  devil's  suggesting, 
for  the  purpose  of  fomenting  disturbances.  "  However,"  added 
he,  "if  you  will  point  out  the  assassins  of  Othinan,  I  will  not 
fail  to  punish  them  according  to  their  guilt." 

While  Ali  thus  avoided  the  dangerous  litigation,  he  endeav- 
ored to  cultivate  the  good  will  of  the  Koreishites,  and  to 
strengthen  himself  against  apprehended  difficulties  with  the 
family  of  Ommiah.  Telha  and  Zobeir,  being  disconcerted  in 
their  designs,  now  applied  for  important  commands — Telha 
for  the  government  of  Cufa,  and  Zobeir  for  that  of  Bassora ; 
but  Ali  again  declined  complying  with  their  wishes ;  observing 
that  he  needed  such  able  counsellors  at  hand  in  his  present- 
emergencies.  They  afterward  separately  obtained  permission 
from  him  to  make  a  pilgrimage  to  Mecca,  and  set  off  on  that 
devout  errand  with  piety  on  their  lips,  but  crafty  policy  in 
their  breasts ;  Ayesha  had  already  repaired  to  the  holy  city, 
bent  upon  opposition  to  the  government  of  the  man  she  hated. 

Ali  was  now  Caliph,  but  did  not  feel  himself  securely  fixed 


396  MAHOMET  AND  JUS  SUCCESSORS. 

in  Ms  authority.  Many  abuses  had  grown  up  during  the 
dotage  of  his  predecessor,  which  called  for  redress,  and  most 
of  the  governments  of  provinces  were  in  the  hands  of  persons 
in  whose  affection  and  fidelity  he  felt  no  confidence.  He  de- 
termined upon  a  general  reform ;  and  as  a  first  step,  to  remove 
from  office  all  the  governors  who  had  been  appointed  by  the 
superannuated  Othman.  This  measure  was  strongly  opposed 
by  some  of  his  counsellors.  They  represented  to  him  that  he 
was  not  yet  sufficiently  estabhshed  to  venture  upon  such 
changes ;  and  that  he  would  make  powerful  enemies  of  men 
who,  if  left  in  office,  would  probably  hasten  to  declare  allegi- 
ence  to  him,  now  that  he  was  Caliph. 

Ah  was  not  to  be  persuaded.  "  Sedition," he  said,  "like  fire, 
is  easily  extinguished  at  the  commencement ;  but  the  longer  it 
burns  the  more  fiercely  it  blazes." 

He  was  advised,  at  least,  to  leave  his  formidable  rival  Moa- 
wyah,  for  the  present,  in  the  government  of  Syria,  as  he  was 
possessed  of  great  wealth  and  influence,  and  a  powerful  army, 
and  might  rouse  that  whole  province  to  rebellion ;  and  in  such 
case  might  be  joined  by  Telha  and  Zobeir,  who  were  both  dis- 
appointed and  disaffected  men.  He  had  recently  shown  his 
influence  over  the  feelings  of  the  people  under  his  command ; 
when  the  bloody  vest  of  Othman  arrived  in  the  province,  he 
had  displayed  it  from  the  pulpit  of  the  mosque  in  Damascus. 
The  mosque  resounded  with  lamentations  mingled  with  clam- 
ors for  the  revenge  of  blood ;  for  Othman  had  won  the  hearts 
of  the  people  of  Syria  by  his  munificence.  Some  of  the  noblest 
inhabitants  of  Damascus  swore  to  remain  separate  from  their 
wives,  and  not  to  lay  their  heads  on  a  pillow  until  blood  for 
blood  had  atoned  for  the  death  of  Othman.  Finally  the  vest 
had  been  hoisted  as  a  standard,  and  had  fired  the  Syrian  army 
with  a  desire  for  vengeance. 

Ali's  counsellor  represented  all  these  things  to  him.  "  Suf- 
fer Moawyah,  therefore, "  added  he,  "to  remain  in  command 
until  he  has  acknowledged  your  government,  and  then  he  may 
be  displaced  without  turmoil.  Nay,  I  will  pledge  myself  to 
bring  him  bound  hand  and  foot  into  your  presence. " 

Ah  spurned  at  this  counsel,  and  swore  he  would  practise  no 
such  treachery,  but  would  deal  with  Moawyah  with  the  sword 
alone.  He  commenced  immediately  his  plan  of  reform,  with 
the  nomination  of  new  governors  devoted  to  his  service.  Ab- 
dallah  Ibn  Abbas  was  appointed  to  Arabia  Felix,  Ammar  Ibn 
Sahel  to  Cufa,  Othman  Ibn  Hanif  to  Bassora,  Sahel  Ibn  Hanii 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  397 

to  Syria,  and  Saad  Ibn  Kais  to  Egypt.  These  generals  lost  no 
time  in  repairing  to  their  respective  governments,  but  the  re- 
sult soon  convinced  Ah  that  he  had  been  precipitate. 

Jaali,  the  governor  of  Arabia  Felix,  readily  resigned  his  post 
to  Abdallah  Ibn  Abbas,  and  retired  to  Mecca ;  but  he  took  with 
him  the  public  treasure,  and  delivered  it  into  the  hands  of 
Ayesha,  and  her  confederates  Telha  and  Zobeir,  who  were 
already  plotting  rebellion. 

Othman  Ibn  Hanif,  on  arriving  at  Bassorah  to  take  the  com- 
mand, found  the  people  discontented  and  rebellious,  and 
having  no  force  to  subjugate  them,  esteemed  himself  fortunate 
in  escaping  from  their  hands  and  returning  to  the  Caliph. 

When  Ammar  Ibn  Sahel  reached  the  confines  of  Cufa,  he 
learnt  that  the  people  were  unanimous  in  favor  of  Abu  Musa 
Alashari,  their  present  governor,  and  determined  to  support 
him  by  fraud  or  force.  Ammar  had  no  disposition  to  contend 
with  them,  the  Cufians  being  reputed  the  most  treacherous  and 
perfidious  people  of  the  East ;  so  he  turned  the  head  of  his 
horse,  and  journeyed  back  mortified  and  disconcerted  to  Ah. 

Saad  Ibn  Kais  was  received  in  Egypt  with  murmurs  by  the 
inhabitants,  who  were  indignant  at  the  assassination  of  Oth- 
man, and  refused  to  submit  to  the  government  of  Ali  until  jus- 
tice was  done  upon  the  perpetrators  of  that  murder.  Saad 
prudently,  therefore,  retraced  his  steps  to  Medina, 

Sahel  Ibn  Hanif  had  no  better  success  in  Syria.  He  was  met 
at  Tabuc  by  a  body  of  cavalry,  who  demanded  his  name  and 
business.  "For  my  name,"  said  he,  "I  am  Sahel,  the  son  of 
Hanif ;  and  for  my  business,  I  am  governor  of  this  province,  as 
lieutenant  of  the  Caliph  AH,  commander  of  the  Faithful." 
They  assured  him  in  reply,  that  Syria  had  already  an  able 
governor  in  Moawyah,  son  of  Abu  Sofian,  and  that  to  their 
certain  knowledge  there  was  not  room  in  the  province  for  the 
sole  of  his  foot ;  so  saying,  they  unsheathed  their  schnetars. 

The  new  governor,  who  was  not  provided  with  a  body  of 
troops  sufficient  to  enforce  his  authority,  returned  also  to  the 
Caliph  with  this  intelligence.  Thus  of  the  five  governors  so 
promptly  sent  forth  by  Ali  in  pursuance  of  his  great  plan  of 
reform,  Abdallah  Ibn  Abbas  was  the  only  one  permitted  to 
assume  his  post. 

When  Ali  received  tidings  of  the  disaffection  of  Syria  he 
wrote  a  letter  to  Moawyah,  claiming  his  allegiance,  and  trans- 
mitted it  by  an  especial  messenger.  The  latter  was  detained 
many  days  by  the  Syrian  commander,  and  then  sent  back, 


398     '  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

accompanied  by  another  messenger,  bearing  a  sealed  letter 
superscribed  "From  Moawyah  to  Ali."  The  two  couriers 
arrived  at  Medina  in  the  cool  of  the  evening,  the  hour  of 
concourse,  and  passed  through  the  multitude  bearing  the  letter 
aloft  on  a  staff,  so  that  all  could  see  the  superscription.  The 
people  thronged  after  the  messengers  into  the  presence  of  Ah. 
On  opening  the  letter  it  was  found  to  be  a  perfect  blank,  in 
token  of  contempt  and  defiance. 

Ali  soon  learned  that  this  was  no  empty  bravado.  He  was 
apprised  by  his  own  courier  that  an  army  of  sixty  thousand 
men  was  actually  on  foot  in  Syria,  and  that  the  bloody  gar- 
ment of  Othman,  the  standard  of  rebellion,  was  erected  in  the 
mosque  at  Damascus.  Upon  this  he  solemnly  called  Allah  and 
the  prophet  to  witness  tbat  he  was  not  guilty  of  that  murder; 
but  made  active  preparations  to  put  down  the  rebellion  by 
force  of  arms,  sending  missives  into  all  the  provinces,  demand- 
ing the  assistance  of  the  faithful. 

The  Moslems  were  now  divided  into  two  parties ;  those  who 
adhered  to  Ali,  among  whom  were  the  people  of  Medina  gen- 
erally :  and  the  Motazeli,  or  Separatists,  who  were  in  the  oppo- 
sition. The  latter  were  headed  by  the  able  and  vindictive 
Ayesha,  who  had  her  headquarters  at  Mecca,  and  with  the 
aid  of  Telha  and  Zobeir,  was  busy  organizing  an  insurrection. 
She  had  induced  the  powerful  family  of  Ommiah  to  join  her 
cause,  and  had  sent  couriers  to  all  the  governors  of  provinces 
whom  Ali  had  superseded,  inviting  them  to  unite  in  the  re- 
bellion. The  treasure  brought  to  her  by  Jaali,  the  displaced 
governor  of  Arabia  Felix,  furnished  her  with  the  means  of 
war,  and  the  bloody  garment  of  Othman  proved  a  powerful 
auxiliary. 

A  council  of  the  leaders  of  this  conspiracy  was  held  at 
Mecca.  Some  inclined  to  join  the  insurgents  in  Syria,  but  it 
was  objected  that  Moawyah  was  sufficiently  powerful  in  that 
country  without  their  aid.  The  intrepid  Ayesha  was  for  pro- 
ceeding immediately  to  Medina  and  attacking  Ali  in  his 
capital,  but  it  was  represented  that  the  people  of  Medina  were 
unanimous  in  his  favor,  and  too  powerful  to  be  assailed  with 
success.  It  was  finally  determined  to  .march  for  Bassora, 
Telha  assuring  them  that  he  had  a  strong  party  in  that  city, 
and  pledging  himself  for  its  surrender. 

A  proclamation  was  accordingly  made  by  sound  of  trumpet 
through  the  streets  of  Mecca  to  the  following  effect : 

"In  the  name  of  the  Most  High  God.    Ayesha,  Mother  of  the 


MAnOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  899 

Faithful,  accompanied  by  the  chiefs  Telha  and  Zobeir,  is  going 
in  person  to  Bassora.  All  those  of  the  faithful  who  burn  with 
a  desire  to  defend  the  faith  and  avenge  the  death  of  the  Caliph 
Othman,  have  only  to  present  themselves  and  they  shall  be 
furnished  with  all  necessaries  for  the  journey." 

Ayesha  sallied  forth  from  one  of  the  gates  of  Mecca,  borne 
in  a  litter  placed  on  the  back  of  a  strong  camel  named  Alascar. 
Telha  and  Zobeir  attended  her  on  each  side,  followed  by  six 
hundred  persons  of  some  note,  all  mounted  on  camels,  and  a 
promiscuous  multitude  of  about  six  thousand  on  foot. 

After  marching  some  distance,  the  motley  host  stopped  to 
refresh  themselves  on  the  bank  of  a  rivulet  near  a  village. 
Their  arrival  aroused  the  dogs  of  the  village,  who  surrounded 
Ayesha  and  barked  at  her  most  clamorously.  Like  all  Arabs, 
she  was  superstitious,  and  considered  this  an  evil  omen.  Her 
apprehensions  were  increased  on  learning  that  the  name  of  the 
village  was  Jowab.  "My  trust  is  in  God,"  exclaimed  she, 
solemnly.  "To  him  do  I  turn  in  time  of  trouble"— a  text  from 
the  Koran,  used  by  Moslems  in  time  of  extreme  danger.  In 
fact,  she  called  to  mind  some  proverb  of  the  prophet  about  the 
dogs  of  Jowab,  and  a  prediction  that  one  of  his  wives  would  be 
barked  at  by  them  when  in  a  situation  of  imminent  peril.  "I 
will  go  no  further,"  cried  Ayesha;  "I  will  halt  here  for  the 
night."  $o  saying,  she  struck  her  camel  on  the  leg  to  make 
him  kneel  that  she  might  alight. 

Telha  and  Zobeir,  dreading  any  delay,  brought  some  peasants 
whom  they  had  suborned  to  assign  a  different  name  to  the  vil- 
lage, and  thus  quieted  her  superstitious  fears.  About  the  same 
time  some  horsemen,  likewise  instructed  by  them,  rode  up 
with  a  false  report  that  Ali  was  not  far  distant  with  a  body  of 
troops.  Ayesha  hesitated  no  longer,  but  mounting  nimbly  on 
her  camel,  pressed  to  the  head  of  her  little  army,  and  they  all 
pushed  forward  with  increased  expedition  toward  Bassora. 
Arrived  before  the  city,  they  had  hoped,  from  the  sanguine 
declarations  of  Telha,  to  see  it  throw  open  its  gates  to  receive 
them;  the  gates,  however,  remained  closely  barred.  Othman 
Ibn  Hanef,  whom  Ali  had  sent  without  success  to  assume  the 
government  of  Cuf a,  was  now  in  command  at  Bassora,  whither 
he  had  been  invited  by  a  part  of  the  inhabitants. 

Ayesha  sent  a  summons  to  the  governor  to  come  forth  and 
join  the  standard  of  the  faithful,  or  at  least  to  throw  open  his 
gates ;  but  he  was  a  timid,  undecided  man,  and  confiding  tho 
defence  of  the  city  to  his  lieutenant  Ammar,  retired  in  great 


400  MATIOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

tribulation  within  his  own  dwelling  in  the  citadel,  and  went  to 
prayers. 

Ammar  summoned  the  people  to  arms,  and  called  a  meeting 
of  the  principal  inhabitants  in  the  mosque.  He  soon  found 
out,  to  his  great  discouragement,  that  the  people  were  nearly 
equally  divided  into  two  factions — one  for  Ah,  since  he  was 
regularly  elected  Caliph,  the  other  composed  of  partisans  of 
Telha.  The  parties,  instead  of  deliberating,  fell  to  reviling, 
and  ended  by  throwing  dust  in  each  other's  faces. 

In  the  mean  time  Ayesha  and  her  host  approached  the  walls, 
and  many  of  the  inhabitants  went  forth  to  meet  her.  Telha 
and  Zobeir  alternately  addressed  the  multitude,  and  were 
followed  by  Ayesha,  who  harangued  them  from  her  camel. 
Her  voice,  which  she  elevated  that  it  might  be  heard  by  all, 
became  shrill  and  sharp,  instead  of  intelligible,  and  provoked 
the  merriment  of  some  of  the  crowd.  A  dispute  arose  as  to 
the  justice  of  her  appeal ;  mutual  revilings  again  took  place 
between  the  parties ;  they  gave  each  other  the  lie,  and  again 
threw  dust  in  each  other's  faces.  One  of  the  men  of  Bassora 
then  turned  and  reproached  Ayesha.  ' '  Shame  on  thee,  oh 
Mother  of  the  Faithful!"  said  he.  "  The  murder  of  the  Caliph 
was  a  grievous  crime,  but  was  a  less  abomination  than  thy 
forgetf ulness  of  the  modesty  of  thy  sex.  Wherefore  dost  thou 
abandon  thy  quiet  home,  and  thy  protecting  veil,  and  ride 
forth  like  a  man  barefaced  on  that  accursed  camel,  to  foment 
quarrels  and  dissensions  among  the  faithful?" 

Another  of  the  crowd  scoffed  at  Telha  and  Zobeir.  ' '  You 
have  brought  your  mother  with  you,"  cried  he;  "  why  did  you 
not  also  bring  your  wives?" 

Insults  were  soon  followed  by  blows,  swords  were  drawn,  a 
skirmish  ensued,  and  they  fought  until  the  hour  of  prayer 
separated  them. 

Ayesha  sat  down  before  Bassora  with  her  armed  host,  and 
some  days  passed  in  alternate  skirmishes  and  negotiations. 
At  length  a  truce  was  agreed  upon,  until  deputies  could  be 
sent  to  Medina  to  learn  the  cause  of  these  dissensions  among 
the  Moslems,  and  whether  Telha  and  Zobeir  agreed  voluntarily 
to  the  election  of  Ali,  or  did  so  on  compulsion :  if  the  former, 
they  should  be  considered  as  rebels ;  if  the  latter,  their  parti- 
sans in  Bassora  should  be  considered  justified  in  upholding 
them. 

The  insurgents,  however,  only  acquiesced  in  this  agreement 
to  get  the  governor  in  their  power,  and  so  gain  possession  of 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  401 

the  city.  They  endeavored  to  draw  him  to  their  camp  by 
friendly  messages,  but  he  apparently  suspected  their  inten- 
tions, and  refused  to  come  forth  until  the  answer  should  be  re- 
ceived from  Medina.  Upon  this  Telha  and  Zobeir,  taking  ad- 
vantage of  a  stormy  night,  gained  an  entrance  into  the  city 
with  a  chosen  band,  and  surprised  the  governor  in  the  mosque, 
where  they  took  him  prisoner,  after  killing  forty  of  his  guard. 
They  sent  to  Ayesha  to  know  what  they  should  do  with  their 
captive.  "Let  him  be  put  to  death,"  was  her  fierce  reply. 
Upon  this  one  of  her  women  interceded.  "I  adjure  thee,"  said 
she,  "in  the  name  of  Allah  and  the  companions  of  the  apostle, 
do  not  slay  him."  Ayesha  was  moved  by  this  adjuration,  and 
commuted  his  punishment  into  forty  stripes  and  imprison- 
ment. He  was  doomed,  however,  to  suffer  still  greater  evils 
before  he  escaped  from  the  hands  of  his  captors.  His  beard 
was  plucked  out  hair  by  hair,  one  of  the  most  disgraceful 
punishments  that  can  be  inflicted  on  an  Arab.  His  eyebrows 
were  served  in  the  same  manner,  and  he  was  then  contemptu- 
ously set  at  liberty. 

The  city  of  Bassora  was  now  taken  possession  of  without 
further  resistance.  Ayesha  entered  it  in  state,  supported  by 
Telha  and  Zobeir,  and  followed  by  her  troops  and  adherents. 
The  inhabitants  were  treated  with  kindness,  as  friends  who 
had  acted  through  error;  and  every  exertion  was  made  to 
secure  their  good-will,  and  to  incense  them  against  Ali,  who 
was  represented  as  a  murderer  and  usurper. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

ALI  DEFEATS  THE  REBELS  UNDER  AYESHA — HIS  TREATMENT 

OF  HER. 

When  Ali  heard  of  the  revolt  at  Mecca,  and  the  march 
against  Bassora,  he  called  a  general  meeting  in  the  mosque, 
and  endeavored  to  stir  up  the  people  to  arm  and  follow  him  in 
pursuit  of  the  rebels;  but,  though  he  spoke  with  his  usual 
eloquence,  and  was  popular  in  Medina,  a  coldness  and  apathy 
pervaded  the  assembly.  Some  dreaded  a  civil  war:  others 
recollected  that  the  leader  of  the  rebels,  against  whom  they 
were  urged  to  take  up  arms,  was  Ayesha,  the  favorite  wife  of 


402  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

the  prophet,  the  Mother  of  the  Faithful;  others  doubted 
whether  Ali  might  not,  in  some  degree,  be  implicated  in  the 
death  of  Othman,  which  had  been  so  artfully  charged  against 
him. 

At  length  a  Moslem  of  distinction,  Ziyad  Ibn  Hantelah,  rose 
with  generous  warmth,  and  stepping  up  to  Ah,  "Let  who- 
soever, will  hold  back,"  cried  he;  "we  will  go  forward." 

At  the  same  time  two  Ansars,  or  doctors  of  the  law,  men  of 
great  weight,  pronounced  with  oracular  voice,  "The  Imam 
Othman,  master  of  the  two  testimonies,  did  not  die  by  the 
hand  of  the  master  of  the  two  testimonies ;"  *  that  is  to  say, 
"  Othman  was  not  slain  by  Ali." 

The  Arabs  are  a  mercurial  people,  and  acted  upon  by  sudden 
impulses.  The  example  of  Ziyad,  and  the  declaration  of  the 
two  Ansars,  caused  an  immediate  excitement.  Abu  Kotada, 
an  Ansar  of  distinction,  drew  his  sword.  "The  apostle  of 
God, "  said  he,  ' '  upon  whom  be  peace,  girt  me  with  this  sword. 
It  has  long  been  sheathed.  I  now  devote  it  to  the  destruction 
of  these  deceivers  of  the  faithful." 

A  matron  in  a  transport  of  enthusiasm  exclaimed,  "Oh 
Commander  of  the  Faithful,  if  it  were  permitted  by  our  law,  I 
myself  would  go  with  thee;  but  here  is  my  cousin,  dearer  to  me 
than  my  own  life;  he  shall  follow  thee  and  partake  of  thy  for- 
tunes. " 

Ali  profited  by  the  excitement  of  the  moment,  and  making  a 
hasty  levy  marched  out  of  Medina  at  the  head  of  about  nine 
hundred  men,  eager  to  overtake  the  rebels  before  they  should 
reach  Bassora.  Hearing,  however,  that  Ayesha  was  already 
in  possession  of  that  city,  he  halted  at  a  place  called  Arrabdah 
until  he  should  be  joined  by  reinforcements ;  sending  messen- 
gers to  Abu  Musa  Alashair,  governor  of  Cufa,  and  to  various 
other  commanders,  ordering  speedy  succor.  He  was  soon 
joined  by  his  eldest  son  Hassan,  who  undertook  to  review  his 
conduct  and  lecture  him  on  his  policy.  "  I  told  you,"  said  he, 
"when  the  Caliph  Othman  was  besieged,  to  go  out  of  the  city, 
lest  you  should  be  implicated  in  his  death.  I  told  you  not  to 
be  inaugurated  until  deputies  from  the  Arabian  tribes  were 
present.  Lastly,  I  told  you  when  Ayesha  and  her  two  con- 
federates took  the  field,  to  keep  at  home  until  they  should  be 


*  The  two  testimonies  mean  the  two  fundamental  beliefs  of  the  Moslem  creed: 
"  There  is  but  one  God.  Mahomet  is  the  apostle  of  God."  The  Caliph,  as  Imam  or 
pontiff  of  the  Mussulman  religion,  is  master  of  the  two  testimonies. 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  403 

pacified ;  so  that,  should  any  mischief  result,  you  might  not  he 
made  responsible.  You  have  not  heeded  my  advice,  and  the 
consequence  is  that  you  may  now  be  murdered  to-morrow, 
with  nobody  to  blame  but  yourself." 

Ali  listened  with  impatience  to  this  filial  counsel,  or  rather 
censure;  when  it  was  finished  he  replied,  "Had  I  left  the  city 
when  Othman  was  besieged,  I  should  myself  have  been  sur- 
rounded. Had  I  waited  for  my  inauguration  until  all  the 
tribes  came  in,  I  should  have  lost  the  votes  of  the  people  of 
Medina,  the  ■  Helpers, '  who  have  the  privilege  of  disposing  of 
the  government.  Had  I  remained  at  home  after  my  enemies 
had  taken  the  field,  like  a  wild  beast  lurking  in  its  hole,  I 
should  like  a  wild  beast  have  been  digged  out  and  destroyed. 
If  I  do  not  look  after  my  own  affairs,  who  will  look  after 
them?  If  I  do  not  defend  myself,  who  will  defend  me?  Such 
are  my  reasons  for  acting  as  I  have  acted ;  and  now,  my  son, 
hold  your  peace."  We  hear  of  no  further  counsels  from 
Hassan. 

Ali  had  looked  for  powerful  aid  from  Abu  Musa  Alashair, 
governor  of  Cufa,  but  he  was  of  a  lukewarm  spirit,  and 
cherished  no  good  will  to  the  Caliph,  from  his  having  sent 
Othman  Ibn  Hanef  to  supplant  him,  as  has  been  noticed.  He 
therefore  received  his  messengers  with  coldness,  and  sent  a 
reply  full  of  evasions.  Ali  was  enraged  at  this  reply ;  and  his 
anger  was  increased  by  the  arrival  about  the  same  time  of  the 
unfortunate  Othman  Ibn  Hanef,  who  had  been  so  sadly 
scourged  and  maltreated  and  ejected  from  his  government  at 
Bassora.  What  most  grieved  the  heart  of  the  ex-governor 
was  the  indignity  that  had  been  offered  to  his  person.  ' '  Oh 
Commander  of  the  Faithful,"  said  he,  mournfully,  "when  you 
sent  me  to  Bassora  I  had  a  beard,  and  now,  alas,  I  have  not  a 
hair  on  my  chin !" 

Ah  commiserated  the  unfortunate  man  who  thus  deplored 
the  loss  of  Ms  beard  more  than  of  his  government,  but  com- 
forted him  with  the  assurance  that  his  sufferings  would  be 
counted  to  Mm  as  merits.  He  then  spoke  of  his  own  case; 
the  Caliphs,  his  predecessors,  had  reigned  without  opposition ; 
but,  for  his  own  part,  those  who  had  joined  in  electmg  him, 
had  proved  false  to  him.  " Telha  and  Zobeir,"  said  he,  "have 
submitted  to  Abu  Beker,  Omar,  and  Othman ;  why  have  they 
arrayed  themselves  against  me?  By  Allah,  they  shall  find 
that  I  am  not  one  jot  inferior  to  my  predecessors !" 

Ali  now  sent  more  urgent  messages  to  Abu  Musa,  governor 


404  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

of  Cufa,  by  his  son  Hassan  and  Ammar  Ibn  Yaser,  bis  general 
of  tbe  borse,  a  stern  old  soldier,  ninety  years  of  age,  the  same 
intrepid  spokesman  who,  for  his  hardihood  of  tongue,  had 
been  severely  maltreated  by  order  of  the  Cahph  Othman. 
They  were  reinforced  by  Alashtar,  a  determined  officer,  who 
had  been  employed  in  the  previous  mission,  and  irritated  by 
tbe  prevarications  of  Abu  Musa. 

Hassan  and  Ammar  were  received  with  ceremonious  respect 
by  the  governor,  and  their  mission  was  discussed,  according 
to  usage,  in  the  mosque,  but  Alashtar  remained  with  the 
guard  that  had  escorted  them.  The  envoys  pressed  their 
errand  with  warmth,  urging  the  necessity  of  their  sending 
immediate  succor  to  the  Caliph.  Abu  Musa,  however,  who 
prided  himself  more  upon  words  than  deeds,  answered  them 
by  an  evasive  harangue ;  signifying  his  doubts  of  the  policy  of 
their  proceeding ;  counselling  that  the  troops  should  return  to 
Medina,  that  the  whole  matter  in  dispute  should  be  investi- 
gated, and  the  right  to  rule  amicably  adjusted.  "It  is  a  bad 
business,"  added  he,  "  and  he  that  meddles  least  with  it  stands 
less  chance  of  doing  wrong.  For  what  says  the  prophet 
touching  an  evil  affair  of  the  kind?  He  who  sleepeth  in  it  is 
more  secure  than  he  that  waketh ;  he  that  lyeth  than  he  that 
sitteth ;  he  that  sitteth  than  he  that  stand eth ;  he  that  standeth 
than  he  that  walketh;  and  he  that  walketh  than  he  that 
rideth.  Sheathe,  therefore,  your  swords,  take  the  heads  from 
your  lances,  and  the  strings  from  your  bows,  and  receive  him 
that  is  injured  into  your  dwellings,  until  all  matters  are  ad- 
justed and  reconciled." 

The  ancient  general,  Ammar,  replied  to  him  tartly,  that  he 
had  misapplied  the  words  of  the  prophet,  which  were  meant 
to  rebuke  such  servants  as  himself,  who  were  better  sitting 
than  standing,  and  sleeping  than  awake.  Abu  Musa  would 
have  answered  him  with  another  long  harangue  in  favor  of 
non-resistance,  but  was  interrupted  by  the  sudden  entrance  of 
a  number  of  his  soldiers,  bearing  evidence  of  having  been 
piteously  beaten.  While  Abu  Musa  had  been  holding  forth  at 
the  mosque,  Alashtar,  the  hardy  officer  who  remained  with 
the  escort,  had  seized  upon  the  castle  of  Cufa,  caused  the 
garrison  to  be  soundly  scourged,  and  sent  them  to  the  mosque 
to  cut  short  the  negotiation.  This  prompt  measure  of  Alashtar 
placed  the  cold-spirited  conduct  of  Abu  Musa  in  so  ridiculous 
a  light  that  the  feelings  of  the  populace  were  instantly  turned 
against  him.     Hassan,  the  son  of  Ali,  seized  upon  the  moment 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  405 

to  address  the  assembly.  He  maintained  the  innocence  of  his 
father  in  regard  to  the  assassination  of  Othman.  "His 
father,"  he  said,  "had  either  done  wrong,  or  had  suffered 
wrong.  If  he  had  done  wrong,  God  would  punish  him.  If 
he  had  suffered  wrong,  God  would  help  him.  The  case  was 
in  the  hand  of  the  Most  High.  Telha  and  Zobeir,  who  were 
the  first  to  inaugurate  him,  were  the  first  to  turn  against  him. 
What  had  he  done,  as  Caliph,  to  merit  such  opposition?  What 
injustice  had  he  committed?  What  covetous  or  selfish  pro- 
pensity had  he  manifested?  I  am  going  back  to  my  father," 
added  Hassan;  "  those  who  are  disposed  to  render  him  assist- 
ance may  follow  me." 

His  eloquence  was  powerfully  effective,  and  the  people  of 
Cufa  followed  him  to  the  number  of  nearly  nine  thousand.  In 
the  mean  time  the  army  of  Ali  had  been  reinforced  from  other 
quarters,  and  now  amounted  to  thirty  thousand  men,  all  of 
whom  had  seen  service.  When  he  appeared  with  his  force 
before  Bassora,  Ayesha  and  her  confederates  were  dismayed, 
and  began  to  treat  of  conciliation.  Various  messages  passed 
between  the  hostile  parties,  and  Telha  and  Zobeir,  confiding  in 
the  honorable  faith  of  Ali,  had  several  interviews  with  him. 

When  these  late  deadly  enemies  were  seen  walking  back- 
ward and  forward  together,  in  sight  of  either  army,  and  hold- 
ing long  conversations,  it  was  confidently  expected  that  a 
peace  would  be  effected ;  and  such  would  have  been  the  case 
had  no  malign  influence  interfered ;  for  Ali,  with  his  impres- 
sive eloquence,  touched  the  hearts  of  his  opponents,  when  he 
reproached  them  with  their  breach  of  faith,  and  warned  them 
against  the  judgments  of  heaven.  ' '  Dost  thou  not  remember, " 
said  he  to  Zobeir,  ' '  how  Mahomet  once  asked  thee  if  thou 
didst  not  love  his  dear  son  AH?  and  when  thou  answered  yea, 
dost  thou  not  remember  his  reply:  'Nevertheless  a  day  will 
come  when  thou  wilt  rise  up  against  him,  and  draw  down 
miseries  upon  him  and  upon  all  the  faithful? ' " 

"I  remember  it  well,"  replied  Zobeir,  "and  had  I  remem- 
bered it  before,  never  would  I  have  taken  up  arms  against 
you." 

He  returned  to  his  camp  determined  not  to  fight  against  Ali, 
but  was  overruled  by  the  vindictive  Ayesha.  Every  attempt 
at  pacification  was  defeated  by  that  turbulent  woman,  and  the 
armies  were  at  length  brought  to  battle.  Ayesha  took  the  field 
on  that  memorable  occasion,  mounted  in  a  litter  on  her  great- 
camel  Alascar,  and  rode  up  and  down  among  her  troops,  ani- 


406  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

mating  them  by  her  presence  and  her  voice.  The  fight  was 
called,  from  that  circumstance,  The  Battle  of  the  Camel,  and 
also  the  battle  of  Karibah,  from  the  field  on  which  it  was 
fought. 

It  was  an  obstinate  and  bloody  conflict,  for  Moslem  was  ar- 
rayed against  Moslem,  and  nothing  is  so  merciless  and  unyield- 
ing as  civil  war.  In  the  heat  of  the  fight  Merwan  Ibn  Hakem, 
who  stood  near  AH,  noticed  Telha  endeavoring  to  goad  on  the 
flagging  valor  of  his  troops.  ' '  Behold  the  traitor  Telha, "  cried 
he,  "but  lately  one  of  the  murderers  of  Othman,  now  the  pre- 
tended avenger  of  his  blood."  So  saying,  he  let  fly  an  arrow 
and  wounded  him  in  the  leg.  Telha  writhed  with  the  pain,  and 
at  the  same  moment  his  horse  reared  and  threw  him.  In  the 
dismay  and  anguish  of  the  moment  he  imprecated  the  ven- 
geance of  Allah  upon  his  own  head  for  the  death  of  Othman. 
Seeing  his  boot  full  of  blood,  he  made  one  of  his  followers  take 
him  up  behind  him  on  his  horse  and  convey  him  to  Bassora. 
Finding  death  approaching,  he  called  to  one  of  Ali's  men  who 
happened  to  be  present,  "  Give  me  your  hand,"  said  the  dying 
penitent,  "that  I  may  put  mine  in  it,  and  thus  renew  my  oath 
of  fealty  to  Ah."  With  these  words  he  expired.  His  dying 
speech  was  reported  to  Ali,  and  touched  his  generous  heart. 
"Allah,"  said  he,  "  would  not  call  him  to  heaven  until  he  had 
blotted  out  his  first  breach  of  his  word  by  this  last  vow  of 
fidelity." 

Zobeir,  the  other  conspirator,  had  entered  into  the  battle 
with  a  heavy  heart.  His  previous  conversation  with  Ali  had 
awakened  compunction  in  his  bosom.  He  now  saw  that  old 
Ammar  Ibn  Yaser,  noted  for  probity  and  rectitude,  was  in  the 
Caliph's  host ;  and  he  recollected  hearing  Mahomet  say  that 
Ammar  Ibn  Yaser  would  always  be  found  on  the  side  of  truth 
and  justice.  With  a  boding  spirit  he  drew  out  of  the  battle 
and  took  the  road  toward  Mecca.  As  he  was  urging  his  mel- 
ancholy way  he  came  to  a  valley  crossed  by  the  brook  Sabaa, 
where  Hanef  Ibn  Kais  was  encamped  with  a  horde  of  Arabs, 
awaiting  the  issue  of  the  battle,  ready  to  join  the  conqueror 
and  share  the  spoil.  Hanef  knew  him  at  a  distance.  ' '  Is  there 
no  one,"  said  he,  "  to  bring  me  tidings  of  Zobeir?"  One  of  his 
men,  Amru  Ibn  Jarmuz,  understood  the  hint,  and  spurred  to 
overtake  Zobeir.  The  latter,  suspecting  his  intentions,  bade 
him  keep  at  a  distance.  A  short  conversation  put  them  on 
friendly  terms,  and  they  both  dismounted  and  conversed  to- 
gether.    The  hour  of  prayers  arrived.     "  Salat"  (to  prayers!) 


MAHOMET  AND  II1S  SUCCESSORS.  407 

cried  Zobeir.  "  Salat,"  replied  Amru ;  but  as  Zobeir  prostrated 
himself  in  supplication.  Amru  struck  off  his  head,  and  has- 
tened with  it,  as  a  welcome  trophy,  to  Ali.  That  generous 
conqueror  shed  tears  over  the  bleeding  head  of  one  who  was 
once  his  friend.  Then  turning  to  his  slayer,  "  Hence,  miscre- 
ant!" cried  he,  "and  carry  thy  tidings  to  Ben  Safiah  in  hell!" 
So  unexpected  a  malediction,  where  he  expected  a  reward, 
threw  Amru  into  a  transport  of  rage  and  desperation ;  he  ut- 
tered a  rhapsody  of  abuse  upon  Ali,  and  then,  drawing  his 
sword,  plunged  it  into  his  own  bosom. 

Such  was  the  end  of  the  two  leaders  of  the  rebels.  As 
to  Ayesha,  the  implacable  soul  of  the  revolt,  she  had  mingled 
that  day  in  the  hottest  of  the  fight.  Tabari,  the  Persian  his- 
torian, with  national  exaggeration,  declares  that  the  heads  of 
threescore  and  ten  men  were  cut  off  that  held  the  bridle  of  her 
camel,  and  that  the  inclosed  litter  in  which  she  rode  was  bris- 
tled all  over  with  darts  and  arrows.  At  last  her  camel  was 
hamstringed,  and  sank  with  her  to  the  ground,  and  she  re- 
mained there  until  the  battle  was  concluded. 

Ayesha  might  have  looked  for  cruel  treatment  at  the  hands 
of  Ali,  having  been  his  vindictive  and  persevering  enemy,  but 
he  was  too  magnanimous  to  triumph  over  a  fallen  foe.  It  is 
said  some  reproachful  words  passed  between  them,  but  he 
treated  her  with  respect,  gave  her  an  attendance  of  forty  fe- 
males, and  sent  his  sons  Hassan  and  Hosein  to  escort  her  a 
day's  journey  toward  Medina,  where  she  was  confined  to  her 
own  house,  and  forbidden  to  intermeddle  any  more  with  affairs 
of  state.  He  then  divided  the  spoils  among  the  heirs  of  his  sol- 
diers who  were  slain,  and  appointed  Abdallah  Ibn  Abbas  gover- 
nor of  Bassora.  This  done,  he  repaired  to  Cufa,  and  in  reward 
of  the  assistance  he  had  received  from  its  inhabitants,  made 
that  city  the  seat  of  his  Caliphat.  These  occurrences  took  place 
in  the  thirty -fifth  year  of  the  Hegira,  the  655th  of  the  Chris- 
tian era. 


408  MAHOMET  AND  BIS  SUCCESSORS. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

BATTLES  BETWEEN  ALI  AND  MOAWYAH — THEIR  CLAIMS  TO  THE 
CALIPHAT  LEFT  TO  ARBITRATION;  THE  RESULT— DECLINE  OF 
THE  POWER  OF  ALI— LOSS  OF  EGYPT. 

The  victory  at  Karibah    had    crushed  the  conspiracy  of 
Ayesha,  and  given  AH  quiet  dominion  over  Egypt,  Arabia,  and 
Persia;  still  his  most  formidable  adversary  remained  unsub- 
dued.    Moawyah  Ibn  Abu  Sofian  held  sway  over  the  wealthy 
and  populous  province  of  Syria;  he  had  immense  treasures  and 
a  powerful  army  at  his  command ;  he  had  the  prejudices  of  the 
Syrians  in  his  favor,  who  had  been  taught  to  implicate  Ali  in 
the  murder  of  Othman,  and  refused  to  acknowledge  him  as 
Caliph.     Still  further  to  strengthen  himself  in  defiance  of  the 
sovereign  power,  he  sought  the  alliance  of  Amru,  who  had 
been  displaced  from  the  government  of  Egypt  by  Ali,  and  was 
now  a  discontented  man  in  Palestine.     Eestoration  to  that 
command  was  to  be  the  reward  of  his  successful  co-operation 
with  Moawyah  in  deposing  Ah;   the  terms  were  accepted; 
Amru  hastened  to  Damascus  at  the  head  of  a  devoted  force; 
and  finding  the  public  mind  ripe  for  his  purpose,  gave  the  hand 
of  allegiance  to  Moawyah  in  presence  of  the  assembled  army, 
and  proclaimed  him  Caliph,  amid  the  shouts  of  the  multitude! 
Ali  had   in  vain  endeavored  to  prevent  the   hostility  of 
Moawyah,  by  all  conciliatory  means;  when  he  heard  of  this 
portentous  alliance  he  took  the  field  and  marched  for  Syria,  at 
the  head  of  ninety  thousand  men.    The  Arabians,  with  their 
accustomed  fondness  for  the  marvellous,  signalize  his  entrance 
into  the  confines  of  Syria  with  an  omen.     Having  halted  his 
army  in  a  place  where  there  was  no  water,  he  summoned  a 
Christian   hermit,   who   lived    in    a    neighboring    cave,   and 
demanded  to  be  shown  a  well.     The  anchorite  assured  him 
that  there  was  nothing  but  a  cistern,  in  which  there  were 
scarce    three   buckets  of  rain  water.      Ali  maintained  that 
certain  prophets  of  the  people  of  Israel  had  abode  there  in 
times  of  old,  and  had  digged  a  well  there.    The  hermit  replied 
that  a  well  did  indeed  exist  there,  but  it  had  been  shut  up  for 
ages,  and  all  traces  of  it  lost,  and  it  was  only  to  be  discovered 
and  reopened  by  a  predestined  hand.      He  then,   says  the 
Arabian  tradition,  produced  a  parchment  scroll  written  by 


MAHOMET  AND  IUS  SUCCESSORS.  409 

Simeon  ben  Safa  (Simon  Cephas),  one  of  the  greatest  apostles 
of  Jesus  Christ,  predicting  the  coming  of  Mahomet,  the  last  of 
the  prophets,  and  that  this  well  would  be  discovered  and 
reopened  by  his  lawful  heir  and  successor. 

Ali  listened  with  becoming  reverence  to  this  prediction; 
then  turning  to  his  attendants  and  pointing  to  a  spot,  "Dig 
there,"  said  he.  They  digged,  and  after  a  time  came  to  an 
immense  stone,  which  having  removed  with  diffculty,  the 
miraculous  well  stood  revealed,  affording  a  seasonable  supply 
to  the  army,  and  an  unquestionable  proof  of  the  legitimate 
claim  of  Ali  to  the  Caliphat.  The  venerable  hermit  was  struck 
with  conviction;  he  fell  at  the  feet  of  Ali,  embraced  his  knees, 
and  never  afterward  would  leave  him. 

It  was  on  the  first  day  of  the  thirty-seventh  year  of  the 
Hegira  (18th  June,  a.d.  657),  that  Ali  came  in  sight  of  the 
army  of  Moawyah,  consisting  of  eighty  thousand  men,  en- 
camped on  the  plain  of  Seffein,  on  the  banks  of  the  Euphrates, 
on  the  confines  of  Babylonia  and  Syria.  Associated  with 
Moawyah  was  the  redoubtable  Amru,  a  powerful  ally  both 
in  council  and  in  the  field.  The  army  of  AH  was  superior  in 
number;  in  his  host,  too,  he  had  several  veterans  who  had 
fought  under  Mahomet  in  the  famous  battle  of  Beder,  and 
thence  prided  themselves  in  the  surname  of  Shahabah ;  that  is 
to  say,  Companions  of  the  Prophet.  The  most  distinguished 
of  these  was  old  Ammar  Ibn  Yaser,  Ali's  general  of  horse,  who 
had  fought  repeatedly  by  the  side  of  Mahomet.  He  was 
ninety  years  of  age,  yet  full  of  spirit  and  activity,  and  idolized 
by  the  Moslem  soldiery. 

The  armies  lay  encamped  in  sight  of  each  other,  but  as  it 
was  the  first  month  of  the  Moslem  year,  a  sacred  month,  when 
all  warfare  is  prohibited,  it  was  consumed  in  negotiations ;  for 
Ali  still  wished  to  avoid  the  effusion  of  kindred  blood.  His 
efforts  were  in  vain,  and  in  the  next  month  hostilities  com- 
menced; still  Ali  drew  his  sword  with  an  unwilling  hand;  he 
charged  his  soldiers  never  to  be  the  first  to  fight ;  never  to 
harm  those  who  fled,  and  never  to  do  violence  to  a  woman. 
Moawyah  and  Amru  were  likewise  sensible  of  the  unnatural 
character  of  this  war ;  the  respective  leaders,  therefore,  avoided 
any  general  action,  and  months  passed  in  mere  skirmishings. 
These,  however,  were  sharp  and  sanguinary,  and  in  the  course 
of  four  months  Moawyah  is  said  to  have  lost  five-and-forty 
thousand  men,  and  Ali  more  than  half  that  number. 

Among  the  slain  on  the  part  of  Ali  were  five-and-twenty  of 


410  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

the  Shahabah,  the  veterans  of  Beder,  and  companions  of  the 
prophet.  Their  deaths  were  deplored  even  by  the  enemy ;  but 
nothing  caused  greater  grief  than  the  fall  of  the  brave  old 
Ammar  Ibn  Yaser,  Ali's  general  of  horse,  and  the  patriarch  of 
Moslem  chivalry.  Moawyah  and  Amru  beheld  him  fall.  ' '  Do 
you  see,"  cried  Moawyah,  "what  precious  lives  are  lost  in  our 
dissensions?"  "See,"  exclaimed  Amru;  "would  to  God  I  had 
died  twenty  years  since !" 

Ali  forgot  his  usual  moderation  on  beholding  the  fate  of  his 
brave  old  general  of  the  horse,  and  putting  himself  at  the  head 
of  twelve  thousand  cavalry,  made  a  furious  charge  to  avenge 
his  death.  The  ranks  of  the  enemy  were  broken  by  the  shock ; 
but  the  heart  of  Ah  soon  relented  at  the  sight  of  carnage. 
Spurring  within  call  of  Moawyah,  "How  long,"  cried  he, 
' '  shall  Moslem  blood  be  shed  like  water  in  our  strife  ?  Come 
forth,  and  let  Allah  decide  between  us.  Whichever  is  victor 
in  the  fight,  let  him  be  ruler. " 

Amru  was  struck  with  the  generous  challenge,  and  urged 
Moawyah  to  accept  it;  but  the  latter  shunned  an  encounter 
with  an  enemy  surnamed  "The  Lion,"  for  his  prowess,  and 
who  had  always  slain  his  adversary  in  single  fight.  Amru 
hinted  at  the  disgrace  that  would  attend  his  refusal ;  to  which 
Moawyah  answered  with  a  sneer,  "You  do  wisely  to  provoke 
a  combat  that  may  make  you  governor  of  Syria." 

A  desperate  battle  at  length  took  place,  which  continued 
throughout  the  night.  Many  were  slain  on  both  sides ;  but 
most  on  the  part  of  the  Syrians.  Alashtar  was  the  hero  of 
this  fight ;  he  was  mounted  upon  a  piebald  horse,  and  wielded 
a  two-edged  sword ;  every  stroke  of  that  terrible  weapon  clove 
down  a  warrior,  and  every  stroke  was  accompanied  by  the 
shout  of  Allah  Achbar !  He  was  heard  to  utter  that  porten- 
"tous  exclamation,  say  the  Arabian  historians,  four  hundred 
times  during  the  darkness  of  the  night. 

The  day  dawned  disastrously  upon  the  Syrians.  Alashtar 
was  pressing  them  to  their  very  encampment,  and  Moawyah 
was  in  despair,  when  Amru  suggested  an  expedient,  founded  on 
the  religious  scruples  of  the  Moslems.  -On  a  sudden  the  Syrians 
elevated  the  Koran  on  the  points  of  their  lances.  "Behold  the 
book  of  God,"  cried  they.  "Let  that  decide  our  differences." 
The  soldiers  of  Ali  instantly  dropped  the  points  of  their 
weapons.  It  was  in  vain  Ali  represented  that  this  was  all  a 
trick,  and  endeavored  to  urge  them  on.  "What!"  cried  they, 
"  do  you  refuse  to  submit  to  the  decision  of  the  book  of  God  ?" 


MAHOMET  AND  NTS  SUCCESSORS.  411 

Ali  found  that  to  persist  would  be  to  shock  their  bigot 
prejudices,  and  to  bring  a  storm  upon  his  own  head;  reluc- 
tantly, therefore,  he  sounded  a  retreat;  but  it  required 
repeated  blasts  to  call  off  Alashtar,  who  came,  his  scimetar 
dripping  with  blood,  and  murmuring  at  being,  as  he  said, 
tricked  out  of  so  glorious  a  victory. 

Umpires  were  now  appointed  to  settle  this  great  dispute 
according  to  the  dictates  of  the  Koran.  Ali  woidd  have 
nominated  on  his  part  Abdallah  Ibn  Abbas,  but  he  was 
objected  to,  as  being  his  cousin-german.  He  then  named 
the  brave  Alashtar,  but  he  was  likewise  set  aside,  and  Abu 
Musa  pressed  upon  him,  an  upright,  but  simple  and  somewhat 
garrulous  man,  as  has  already  been  shown.  As  to  Moawyah, 
he  managed  on  his  part  to  have  Amru  Ibn  al  Aass  appointed, 
the  shrewdest  and  most  sagacious  man  in  all  Arabia.  The 
two  rival  leaders  then  retired,  Ali  to  Cufa,  and  Moawyah  to 
Damascus,  leaving  generals  in  command  of  their  respective 
armies. 

The  arbitrators  met  several  months  afterward  at  Jumat  al 
Joudel,  in  presence  of  both  armies,  who  were  pledged  to  sitp- 
port  their  decision.  Amru,  who  understood  the  weak  points 
of  Musa's  character,  treated  him  with  great  deference,  and 
after  having  won  his  confidence,  persuaded  him  that,  to  heal 
these  dissensions,  and  prevent  the  shedding  of  kindred  blood, 
it  would  be  expedient  to  set  aside  both  candidates  and  let  the 
faithful  elect  a  third.  This  being  agreed  upon,  a  tribunal  was 
erected  between  the  armies,  and  Amru,  through  pretended  def- 
erence, insisted  that  Musa  should  be  the  first  to  ascend  it  and 
address  the  people.  Abu  Musa  accordingly  ascended,  and  pro- 
claimed with  a  loud  voice,  "I  depose  Ali  and  Moawyah  from 
the  office  to  which  they  pretend,  even  as  I  draw  this  ring  from 
my  finger."    So  saying,  he  descended. 

Amru  now  mounted  in  his  turn.  "  You  have  heard,"  said  he, 
"how  Musa  on  his  part  has  deposed  Ali;  I  on  my  part  depose 
him  also;  and  I  adjudge  the  Caliphat  to  Moawyah,  and  invest 
him  with  it,  as  I  invest  my  finger  with  this  ring ;  and  I  do  it 
with  justice,  for  he  is  the  rightful  successor  and  avenger  of 
Othman." 

Murmurs  succeeded  from  the  partisans  of  Ali,  and  from  Abu 
Musa,  who  complained  of  the  insincerity  of  Amru.  The  Syrians 
applauded  the  decision,  and  both  parties,  being  prevented  from 
hostilities  by  a  solemn  truce,  separated  without  any  personal 
violence,  but  with  mutual  revilings  and  augmented  enmity.    A 


412  MAHOMET  AND  I1IS  SUCCESSORS. 

kind  of  religious  feud  sprang  up,  which  continued  for  a  long 
time  between  the  house  of  Ali  and  that  of  Ommiah ;  they  never 
mentioned  each  other  without  a  curse,  and  pronounced  an  ex- 
communication upon  each  other  whenever  they  harangued  the 
people  in  the  mosque. 

The  power  of  Ali  now  began  to  wane ;  the  decision  pronounced 
against  him  influenced  many  of  his  own  party,  and  a  revolt 
was  at  length  stirred  up  among  his  followers,  by  a  set  of  fanatic 
'zealots  called  Karigites  or  seceders,  who  insisted  that  he  had 
done  wrong  in  referring  to  the  judgment  of  men  what  ought  to 
be  decided  by  God  alone ;  and  that  he  had  refused  to  break  the 
truce  and  massacre  his  enemies  when  in  his  power,  though  they 
had  proved  themselves  to  be  the  enemies  of  God ;  they  there- 
fore renounced  allegiance  to  him ;  appointed  Abdallah  Ibn 
Waheb  as  their  leader,  and  set  up  their  standard  at  Nahar- 
wan,  a  few  miles  from  Bagdad,  whither  the  disaffected  re- 
paired from  all  quarters,  until  they  amounted  to  twenty-five 
thousand. 

The  appearance  of  Ali  with  an  army  brought  many  of  them 
to  their  senses.  Willing  to  use  gentle  measures,  he  caused  a 
standard  to  be  erected  outside  of  his  camp,  and  proclaimed  a 
pardon  to  such  of  the  malcontents  as  should  rally  round  it, 
The  rebel  army  immediately  began  to  melt  away  until  Abdal- 
lah Ibn  Waheb  was  left  with  only  four  thousand  adherents. 
These,  however,  were  fierce  enthusiasts,  and  their  leader  was  a 
fanatic.  Trusting  that  Allah  and  the  prophet  would  render 
him  miraculous  assistance,  he  attacked  the  army  of  Ah  with 
his  handful  of  men,  who  fought  with  such  desperation  that 
nine  only  escaped.  These  served  as  firebrands  to  enkindle 
future  mischief. 

Moawyah  had  now  recourse  to  a  stratagem  to  sow  troubles  in 
Egypt,  and  ultimately  to  put  it  in  the  hands  of  Amru.  Ali,  on 
assuming  the  Caliphat,  had  appointed  Saad  Ibn  Kais  to  the  gov- 
ernment of  that  province,  who  administered  its  affairs  with 
ability.  Moawyah  now  forged  a  letter  from  Saad  to  himself, 
professing  devotion  to  his  interests,  and  took  measures  to  let  it 
fall  into  the  hands  of  Ah.  The  plan-was  successful.  The  sus- 
picions of  Ali  were  excited ;  he  recalled  Saad  and  appointed  in 
his  place  Mahomet,  son  of  Abu  Beker,  and  brother  of  Ayesha. 
Mahomet  began  to  govern  with  a  high  hand,  proscribing  and 
exiling  the  leaders  of  the  Othman  faction,  who  made  the  mur- 
der of  the  late  Caliph  a  question  of  party.  This  immediately 
produced  commotions  and  insurrections,  and  all  Egypt  was 


MAHOMET  AND  JUS  SUCCESSORS.  413 

getting  into  a  blaze.  Ali  again  sought  to  remedy  the  evil  by 
changing  the  governor,  and  dispatched  Malec  Shutur,  a  man  of 
prudence  and  ability,  to  take  the  command.  In  the  course  of 
his  journey  Malec  lodged  one  night  at  the  house  of  a  peasant, 
on  the  confines  of  Arabia  and  Egypt.  The  peasant  was  a  crea- 
ture of  Moawyah's,  and  poisoned  his  unsuspecting  guest  with  a 
pot  of  honey.  Moawyah  followed  up  this  treacherous  act  by 
sending  Amru  with  six  thousand  horse  to  seize  upon  Egypt  in 
its  present  stormy  state.  Amru  hastened  with  joy  to  the  scene 
of  his  former  victories,  made  his  way  rapidly  to  Alexandria, 
united  his  force  with  that  of  Ibn  Sharig,  the  leader  of  the  Oth- 
man  party,  and  they  together  routed  Mahomet  Ibn  Abu  Beker. 
and  took  him  prisoner.  The  avengers  of  Othman  reviled  Ma- 
homet with  his  assassination  of  that  Caliph,  put  him  to  death, 
enclosed  his  body  in  the  carcass  of  an  ass,  and  burnt  both  to 
ashes.  Then  Amru  assumed  the  government  of  Egypt  as  lieu- 
tenant of  Moawyah. 

When  Ayesha  heard  of  the  death  of  her  brother,  she  knelt 
down  in  the  mosque,  and  in  the  agony  of  her  heart  invoked  a 
curse  upon  Moawyah  and  Amru,  an  invocation  which  she 
thenceforth  repeated  at  the  end  of  all  her  prayers.  Ah,  also, 
was  afflicted  at  the  death  of  Mahomet,  and  exclaimed,  ' '  The 
murderers  will  answer  for  this  before  God. " 


CHAPTER  XL 


PREPARATIONS    OP    ALI    FOR    THE    INVASION    OF    SYRIA— HIS 

ASSASSINATION. 

The  loss  of  Egypt  was  a  severe  blow  to  the  fortunes  of  Ali, 
and  he  had  the  mortification  subsequently  to  behold  his  active 
rival  make  himself  master  of  Hejaz,  plant  his  standard  on  the 
sacred  cities  of  Mecca  and  Medina,  and  ravage  the  fertile 
province  of  Yemen.  The  decline  of  his  power  affected  his 
spirits,  and  he  sank  at  times  into  despondency.  His  melan- 
choly was  aggravated  by  the  conduct  of  his  own  brother  Okail, 
who,  under  pretence  that  Ah  did  not  maintain  him  in  suitable 
style,  deserted  him  in  his  sinking  fortunes,  and  went  over  to 
Moawyah,  who  rewarded  his  unnatural  desertion  with  ample 
revenues. 

Still  Ah  meditated  one  more  grand  effort.     Sixty  thousand 


414  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSOUS. 

devoted  adherents  pledged  themselves  to  stand  by  him  to  the 
death,  and  with  these  he  prepared  to  march  into  Syria.  While 
preparations  were  going  on,  it  chanced  that  three  zealots,  of 
the  sect  of  Karigites,  met  as  pilgrims  in  the  mosque  of  Mecca, 
and  fell  into  conversation  about  the  battle  of  Naharwan,  where- 
in four  thousand  of  their  brethren  had  lost  their  lives.  This 
led  to  lamentations  over  the  dissensions  and  dismemberment  of 
the  Moslem  empire,  all  which  they  attributed  to  the  ambition 
of  Ali,  Moawyah,  and  Amru.  The  Karigites  were  a  fanatic 
sect,  and  these  men  were  zealots  of  that  dangerous  kind  who 
are  ready  to  sacrifice  their  lives  in  the  accomplishment  of  any 
bigot  plan.  In  their  infuriate  zeal  they  determined  that  the 
only  way  to  restore  peace  and  unity  to  Islam  would  be  to 
destroy  those  three  ambitious  leaders,  and  they  devoted  them- 
selves to  the  task,  each  undertaking  to  dispatch  his  victim. 
The  several  assassinations  were  to  be  effected  at  the  same 
time,  on  Friday,  the  seventeenth  of  the  month  Ramadan,  at 
the  hour  of  prayer ;  and  that  their  blows  might  be  infallibly 
mortal,  they  were  to  use  poisoned  weapons. 

The  names  of  the  conspirators  were  Barak  Ibn  Abdallah, 
Amru  Ibn  Asi,  and  Abda'lrahman  Ibn  Melgem.  Barak  re- 
paired to  Damascus  and  mingled  in  the  retinue  of  Moawyah  on 
the  day  appointed,  which  was  the  Moslem  sabbath ;  then,  as 
the  usurper  was  officiating  in  the  mosque  as  pontiff,  Barak 
gave  him  what  he  considered  a  fatal  blow.  The  wound  was 
desperate,  but  the  life  of  Moawyah  was  saved  by  desperate 
remedies;  the  assassin  was  mutilated  of  hands  and  feet  and 
suffered  to  live,  but  was  slain  in  after  years  by  a  friend  of 
Moawyah. 

Amru  Ibn  Asi,  the  second  of  these  fanatics,  entered  the 
mosque  in  Egypt  on  the  same  day  and  hour,  and,  with  one 
blow  killed  Karijah,  the  Imam,  who  officiated,  imagining  him 
to  be  Amru  Ibn  al  Aass,  who  was  prevented  from  attending  the 
mosque  through  illness.  The  assassin  being  led  before  his  in- 
tended victim,  and  informed  of  his  error,  replied  with  the  resig- 
nation of  a  predestinarian,  ' '  I  intended  Amru ;  but  Allah  in- 
tended Karijah."    He  was  presently  executed. 

Abda'lrahman,  the  third  assassin,-repaired  to  Cufa,  where 
Ali  held  his  court.  Here  he  lodged  with  a  woman  of  the  sect 
of  the  Karigites,  whose  husband  had  been  killed  in  the  battle 
of  Naharwan.  To  this  woman  he  made  proposals  of  marriage, 
but  she  replied  she  would  have  no  man  who  could  not  bring 
her,  as  a  dowry,  three  thousand  drachms  of  silver,  a  slave,  a 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  415 

maid-servant,  and  the  head  of  Ali.  He  accepted  the  conditions, 
and  joined  two  other  Karigites,  called  Derwan  and  Shabib, 
with  him  in  the  enterprise.  They  stationed  themselves  in  the 
mosque  to  await  the  coming  of  the  Caliph. 

Ah  had  recently  been  afflicted  with  one  of  his  fits  of  despon- 
dency, and  had  uttered  ejaculations  which  were  afterward 
considered  presages  of  his  impending  fate.  In  one  of  his  mel- 
ancholy moods  he  exclaimed,  with  a  heavy  sigh,  "Alas,  my 
heart !  there  is  need  of  patience,  for  there  is  no  remedy  against 
death !"  In  parting  from  his  house  to  go  to  the  mosque,  there 
was  a  clamor  among  his  domestic  fowls,  which  he  interpreted 
into  a  fatal  omen.  As  he  entered  the  mosque  the  assassins 
drew  their  swords  and  pretended  to  he  fighting  among  them- 
selves ;  Derwan  aimed  a  blow  at  the  Caliph,  but  it  fell  short, 
and  struck  the  gate  of  the  mosque ;  a  blow  from  Abda'lrahman 
was  better  aimed,  and  wounded  Ali  in  the  head.  The  assassins 
then  separated  and  fled.  Derwan  was  pursued  and  slain  at  the 
threshold  of  his  home;  Shabib  distanced  his  pursuers  and 
escaped.  Abda'lrahman,  after  some  search,  was  discovered 
hidden  in  a  corner  of  the  mosque,  his  sword  still  in  his  hand. 
He  was  dragged  forth  and  brought  before  the  Caliph.  The 
wound  of  Ali  was  pronounced  mortal ;  he  consigned  Ms  mur- 
derer to  the  custody  of  his  son  Hassan,  adding,  with  his  accus- 
tomed clemency  ' '  Let  him  want  for  nothing ;  and,  if  I  die  of 
my  wound,  let  him  not  be  tortured;  let  his  death  be  by  a  single 
blow."  His  orders,  according  to  the  Persian  writers,  were 
strictly  complied  with,  but  the  Arabians  declare  that  he  was 
killed  by  piecemeal ;  and  the  Moslems  opposed  to  the  sect  of 
Ali  hold  him  up  as  a  martyr. 

The  death  of  Ali  happened  within  three  days  after  receiving 
his  wound:  it  was  in  the  fortieth  year  of  the  Hegira,  A.D.  660. 
He  was  about  sixty-three  years  of  age,  of  which  he  had  reigned 
not  quite  five.  His  remains  were  interred  about  five  miles 
from  Cufa  ;  and,  in  after  times,  a  magnificent  tomb,  covered 
by  a  mosque,  with  a  splendid  dome,  rose  over  his  grave,  and 
it  became  the  site  of  a  city  called  Meshed  Ali,  or,  the  Sep- 
ulchre of  Ali,  and  was  enriched  and  beautified  by  many  Per- 
sian monarehs. 

We  make  no  concluding  comments  on  the  noble  and  gener- 
ous character  of  Ali,  which  has  been  sufficiently  illustrated 
throughout  all  the  recorded  circumstances  of  his  life.  He  was 
one  of  the  last  and  worthiest  of  the  primitive  Moslems^  who 
imbibed  his  religious  enthusiasm  from  companionship  with  the 


416  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

prophet  himself ;  and  who  followed,  to  the  last,  the  simplicity 
of  his  example.  He  is  honorably  spoken  of  as  the  first  Caliph 
who  accorded  some  protection  to  Belles-Lettres.  He  indulged 
in  the  poetic  vein  himself,  and  many  of  his  maxims  and  prov- 
erbs are  preserved,  and  have  been"  translated  into  various  lan- 
guages. His  signet  bore  this  inscription:  "The  kingdom  be- 
longs to  God."  One  of  his  sayings  shows  the  little  value  he  set 
upon  the  transitory  glories  of  this  world.  "Life  is  but  the 
shadow  of  a  cloud;  the  dream  of  a  sleeper." 

By  his  first  wife,  Fatima,  the  daughter  of  Mahome,  the  had 
three  sons,  Mohassan,  who  died  young,  and  Hassan  and  Hosein, 
who  survived  him.  After  her  death  he  had  eight  other  wives, 
and  his  issue,  in  all,  amounted  to  fifteen  sons  and  eighteen 
daughters.  His  descendants,  by  Fatima,  are  distinguished 
among  Moslems  as  descendants  of  the  prophet,  and  are  very 
numerous,  being  reckoned  both  by  the  male  and  female  line. 
They  wear  turbans  of  a  peculiar  fashion,  and  twist  tiieir  hair 
in  a  different  manner  from  other  Moslems.  They  are  consid- 
ered of  noble  blood,  and  designated  in  different  countries  by 
various  titles,  such  as  Sheriffs,  Fatimites,  and  Emirs.  The 
Persians  venerate  Ali  as  next  to  the  prophet,  and  solemnize 
the  anniversary  of  his  martyrdom.  The  Turks  hold  him  in 
abhorrence,  and  for  a  long  time,  in  their  prayers,  accompanied 
his  name  with  execrations,  but  subsequently  abated  in  their 
violence.  It  is  said  that  Ali  was  bom  in  the  Caaba,  or  holy 
temple  of  Mecca,  where  his  mother  was  suddenly  taken  in 
labor,  and  that  he  was  the  only  person  of  such  distinguished 
birth. 


CHAPTER  XLI. 


SUCCESSION  OF  HASSAN,    FIFTH  CALIFH—  HE  ABDICATES  IN  FAVOR 

OF    MOAWYAH. 

In  his  dying  moments,  Ali  had  refused  to  nominate  a  suc- 
cessor, but  his  eldest  son  Hassan,  then"  in  his  37th  year,  was 
elected  without  opposition.  He  stood  high  in  the  favor  of  the 
people,  partly  from  his  having  been  a  favorite  with  his  grand- 
father, the  prophet,  to  whom  in  his  features  he  bore  a  strong 
resemblance;  but  chiefly  from  the  moral  excellence  of  his 
character,  for  he  was  upright,  sincere,  benevolent,  and  devout. 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  41 7 

He  lacked,  however,  the  energy  and  courage  necessary  to  a 
sovereignty,  where  the  sceptre  was  a  sword;  and  he  was  un- 
fitted to  command  in  the  civil  wars  which  distracted  the  em- 
pire, for  he  had  a  horror  of  shedding  Moslem  blood.  He  made 
a  funeral  speech  over  his  father's  remains,  showing  that  his 
death  was  coincident  with  great  and  solemn  events.  ' '  He  was 
slain,"  said  he,  "on  the  same  night  of  the  year  in  which  the 
Koran  was  transmitted  to  earth;  in  which  Isa  (Jesus)  was 
taken  up  to  heaven,  and  in  which  Joshua,  the  son  of  Nun,  was 
killed.  By  Allah !  none  of  his  predecessors  surpassed  him,  nor 
will  he  ever  be  equalled  by  a  successor." 

Then  Kais,  a  trusty  friend  of  the  house  of  Aii,  commenced 
the  inauguration  of  the  new  Caliph.  ' '  Stretch  forth  thy  hand, " 
said  he  to  Hassan,  "in  pledge  that  thou  wilt  stand  by  the  book 
of  God,  and  the  tradition  of  the  apostle,  and  make  war  against 
all  opposers."  Hassan  complied  with  the  ceremonial,  and  was 
proclaimed  Caliph,  and  the  people  were  called  upon  to  acknowl- 
edge allegiance  to  him,  and  engage  to  maintain  peace  with  his 
friends,  and  war  with  his  enemies.  Some  of  the  people,  how- 
ever, with  the  characteristic  fickleness  of  Babylonians,  mur- 
mured at  the  suggestion  of  further  warfare,  and  said,  we  want 
no  fighting  Caliph. 

Had  Hassan  consulted  his  own  inclination,  he  would  willing- 
ingly  have  clung  to  peace,  and  submitted  to  the  usurpations  of 
Moawyah ;  but  he  was  surrounded  by  valiant  generals  eager 
for  action,  and  stimulated  by  his  brother  Hosein,  who  inher- 
ited the  daring  character  of  their  fathej*;  besides,  there  were 
sixty  thousand  fighting  men,  all  ready  for  the  field,  and  who 
had  been  on  the  point  of  marching  into  Syria  under  Ah.  Un- 
willingly, therefore,  he  put  himself  at  the  head  of  this  force 
and  commenced  his  march.  Receiving  intelligence  that  Moa- 
wyah had  already  taken  the  field  and  was  advancing  to  meet 
him,  he  sent  Kais  in  the  advance,  with  12,000  light  troops,  to 
hold  the  enemy  in  check,  while  he  followed  with  the  main 
army.  Kais  executed  his  commission  with  spirit,  had  a  smart 
skirmish  with  the  Syrians,  and  having  checked  them  in  then* 
advance,  halted  and  put  himself  in  a  position  to  await  the 
coming  of  the  Cahph. 

Hassan,  however,  had  already  become  sensible  of  his  incom- 
petency to  military  command.  There  was  disaffection  among 
some  of  his  troops,  who  were  people  of  Irak  or  Babylonia,  dis- 
inclined to  this  war.  On  reaching  the  city  of  Madayn,  an  affray 
took  place  among  the  soldiers  in  which  one  was  slain ;  a  fierce 


418  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

tumult  succeeded;  Hassan  attempted  to  interfere,  but  was 
jostled  and  wounded  in  the  throng,  and  obliged  to  retire  into 
the  citadel.  He  had  taken  refuge  from  violence,  and  was  in 
danger  of  treason,  for  the  nephew  of  the  governor  of  Madayn 
proposed  to  his  uncle,  now  that  he  had  Hassan  within  his 
castle,  to  make  him  his  prisoner,  and  send  him  in  chains  to 
Moawyah.  "  A  curse  upon  thee  for  a  traitor  and  an  infidel!" 
cried  the  honest  old  governor ;  ' '  wouldst  thou  betray  the  son 
of  the  daughter  of  the  Apostle  of  God?" 

The  mild-tempered  Caliph,  who  had  no  ambition  of  command, 
was  already  disheartened  by  its  troubles.  He  saw  that  he  had 
an  active  and  powerful  enemy  to  contend  with,  and  fickleness 
and  treachery  among  his  own  people;  he  sent  proposals  to 
Moawyah,  offering  to  resign  the  Caliphat  to  him,  on  condition 
that  he  should  be  allowed  to  retain  the  money  in  the  public 
treasury  at  Cufa,  and  the  revenues  of  a  great  estate  in  Persia, 
and  that  Moawyah  would  desist  from  all  evil  speaking  against 
his  deceased  father.  Moawyah  assented  to  the  two  former  of 
these  stipulations,  but  would  only  consent  to  refrain  from 
speaking  evil  of  Ali  in  presence  of  Hassan ;  and  indeed  such 
was  the  sectarian  hatred  already  engendered  against  Ali, 
that,  under  the  sway  of  Moawyah,  his  name  was  never  men- 
tioned in  the  mosques  without  a  curse,  and  such  continued  to 
be  the  case  for  several  generations  under  the  dominion  of  the 
house  of  Ommiah. 

Another  condition  exacted  by  Hassan,  and  which  ultimately 
proved  fatal  to  him,  was  that  he  should  be  entitled  to  resume 
the  Caliphat  on  the  death  of  Moawyah,  who  was  above  a  score 
of  years  his  senior.  These  te2*ms  being  satisfactorily  adjusted, 
Hassan  abdicated  in  favor  of  Moawyah,  to  the  great  indigna- 
tion of  his  brother  Hosein,  who  considered  the  memory  of  their 
father  Ali  dishonored  by  this  arrangement.  The  people  of 
Cufa  refused  to  comply  with  that  condition  relative  to  the 
public  treasury,  insisting  upon  it  that  it  was  their  property. 
Moawyah,  however,  allowed  Hassan  an  immense  revenue, 
with  which  he  retired  with  his  brother  to  Medina,  to  enjoy  that 
e  ise  and  tranquillity  which  he  so  much_prized.  His  life  was 
exemplary  and  devout,  and  the  greater  part  of  his  revenue 
Avas  expended  in  acts  of  charity. 

>awyah  seems  to  have  been  Avell  aware  of  the  power  of 
gold  in  mnking  the  most  distasteful  things  palatable.  An  old 
beldame  of  the  lineage  of  Haschem,  and  branch  of  Ah,  once  re- 
proached him  with  having  supplanted  that  family,  who  were 


MAIIOMKT  AND  niS  SUCCESSORS.  419 

his  cousins,  and  with  having  acted  toward  them  as  Pharaoh 
did  toward  the  children  of  Israel.  Moawyah  gently  replied, 
"May  x\llah  pardon  what  is  past,"  and  inquired  what  were  her 
wants.  She  said  two  thousand  pieces  of  gold  for  her  poor  re- 
lations, two  thousand  as  a  dower  for  her  children,  and  two 
thousand  as  a  support  for  herself.  The  money  was  given  in- 
stantly, and  the  tongue  of  the  clamorous  virago  was  silenced. 


CHAPTER  XLII. 


REIGN  OF  MOAWYAH    I.,    SIXTH    CALIPH— ACCOUNT  OF    HIS    ILLE- 
GITIMATE BROTHER  ZEYAD — DEATH  OF  AMRU. 

Moawyah  now,  in  the  forty-first  year  of  the  Hegira,  assumed 
legitimate  dominion  over  the  whole  Moslem  empire.  The  Kari- 
gites,  it  is  true,  a  fanatic  sect  opposed  to  all  regular  govern- 
ment, spiritual  or  temporal,  excited  an  insurrection  in  Syria,  but 
Moawyah  treated  them  with  more  thorough  rigor  than  his  pre- 
decessors, and  finding  the  Syrians  not  sufficient  to  cope  with 
them,  called  in  his  new  subjects,  the  Babylonians,  to  show 
their  allegiance  by  rooting  out  this  pestilent  sect ;  nor  did  he 
stay  his  hand  until  they  were  almost  exterminated. 

With  this  Caliph  commenced  the  famous  dynasty  of  the 
Ommiades  or  OmeyadeS,  so  called  from  Ommiah  his  great- 
grandfather; a  dynasty  which  lasted  for  many  generations, 
and  gave  some  of  the  most  brilliant  names  to  Arabian  bistory. 
Moawyah  himself  gave  indications  of  intellectual  refinement. 
He  surrounded  himself  with  men  distinguished  in  science  or 
gifted  with  poetic  talent,  and  from  the  Greek  provinces  and 
islands  which  he  had  subdued,  the  Greek  sciences  began  to 
make  their  way,  and  under  his  protection  to  exert  their  first 
influence  on  the  Arabs. 

One  of  the  measures  adopted  by  Moawyah  to  strengthen 
himself  in  the  Caliphat  excited  great  sensation,  and  merits 
particular  detail.  At  the  time  of  the  celebrated  flight  of  Ma- 
homet, Abu  Sofian,  father  of  Moawyah,  at  that  time  chief  of 
the  tribe  of  Koreish,  and  as  yet  an  inveterate  persecutor  of  the 
prophet,  halted  one  day  for  refreshment  at  the  house  of  a  pub- 
lican in  Tayef.  Here  he  became  intoxicated  with  wine,  and 
passed  the  night  in  the  arms  of  the  wife  of  a  Greek  slave, 


420  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

named  Somyah,  who  in  process  of  time  made  him  the  father 
of  a  male  child.  Abu  Sofian,  ashamed  of  this  amour,  would 
not  acknowledge  the  child,  but  left  him  to  his  fate ;  hence  he 
received  the  name  of  Ziyad  Ibn  Abihi,  that  it  is  to  say,  Ziyad 
the  son  of  nobody. 

The  boy.  thus  deserted,  gave  early  proof  of  energy  and 
talent.  When  scarce  arrived  at  manhood,  he  surprised  Amru 
Ibu  al  Aass  by  his  eloquence  and  spirit  in  addressing  a  popular 
assembly.  Amru,  himself  illegitimate,  felt  a  sympathy  in  the 
vigor  of  this  spurious  offset.  "By  the  prophet !"  exclaimed  he, 
"if  this  youth  were  but  of  the  noble  race  of  Koreish,  he  would 
drive  all  the  tribes  of  Arabia  before  him  with  his  staff!" 

Ziyad  was  appointed  cadi  or  judge,  in  the  reign  of  Omar, 
and  was  distinguished  by  his  decisions.  On  one  occasion,  cer- 
tain witnesses  came  before  him  accusing  Mogeirah  Ibn  Seid,  a 
distinguished  person  of  unblemished  character,  with  inconti- 
nence, but  failed  to  establish  the  charge ;  whereupon  Ziyad  dis- 
missed the  accused  with  honor,  and  caused  his  accusers  to  be 
scourged  with  rods  for  bearing  false  witness.  This  act  was 
never  forgotten  by  Mogeirah,  who,  becoming  afterward  one  of 
the  counsellors  of  the  Caliph  Ali,  induced  him  to  appoint 
Ziyad  lieutenant  or  governor  of  Persia,  an  arduous  post  of 
high  trust,  the  duties  of  which  he  discharged  with  great 
ability. 

After  the  death  of  Ali  and  the  abdication  of  Hassan,  events 
which  followed  hard  upon  each  other,  Ziyad,  who  still  held 
Bway  over  Persia,  hesitated  to  acknowledge  Moawyah  as 
Caliph.  The  latter  was  alarmed  at  this  show  of  opposition, 
fearing  lest  Ziyad  should  join  with  the  family  of  Haschem, 
the  kindred  of  the  prophet,  who  desired  the  elevation  of 
Hosein ;  he,  therefore, .  sent  for  Mogeirah,  the  former  patron 
of  Ziyad,  and  prevailed  upon  him  to  mediate  between  them. 
Mogeirah  repaired  to  Ziyad  in  person,  bearing  a  letter  of  kind- 
ness and  invitation  from  the  Caliph,  and  prevailed  on  him  to 
accompany  him  to  Cufa.  On  their  arrival  Moawyah  embraced 
Ziyad,  and  received  him  with  public  demonstrations  of  respect 
and  affection,  as  his  brother  by  the  father's  side.  The  fact  of 
their  consanguinity  was  established  on  the  following  day.  in 
full  assembly,  by  the  publican  of  Tayef,  who  bore  testimony 
to  the  intercourse  between  Abu  Sofian  and  the  beautiful  slave. 

This  decision,  enforced  by  the  high  hand  of  authority,  ele- 
vated Ziyad  to  the  noblest  blood  of  Koreish,  and  made  him 
eligible  to  the  highest  offices,  though  in  fact  the  strict  letter 


MAHOMET  AXD   U1S  SUCCESSORS.  421 

of  the  Mahometan  law  would  have  pronounced  him  the  son  of 
the  Greek  slave,  who  was  husband  of  his  mother. 

The  family  of  the  Ommiades  were  indignant  at  having  the 
base-born  offspring  of  a  slave  thus  introduced  among  them; 
but  Moawyah  disregarded  these  murmurs;  he  had  probably 
gratified  his  own  feelings  of  natural  affection,  and  he  had 
firmly  attached  to  his  interest  a  man  of  extensive  influence, 
and  one  of  the  ablest  generals  of  the  age. 

Moawyah  foimd  good  service  in  his  valiant  though  misbe- 
gotten brother.  Under  the  sway  of  incompetent  governors 
the  country  round  Bassora  had  become  overrun  with  thieves 
and  murderers,  and  disturbed  by  all  kinds  of  tumults.  Ziyad 
was  put  in  the  command,  and  hastened  to  take  possession  of 
his  turbulent  post.  He  found  Bassora  a  complete  den  of  assas- 
sins ;  not  a  night  but  was  disgraced  by  riot  and  bloodshed,  so 
that  it  was  unsafe  to  walk  the  streets  after  dark.  Ziyad  was 
an  eloquent  man,  and  he  made  a  public  speech  terribly  to  the 
point.  He  gave  notice  that  he  meant  to  rule  with  the  sword, 
and  to  wreak  unsparing  punishment  on  ail  offenders ;  he  ad- 
vised ah  such,  therefore,  to  leave  the  city.  He  warned  all 
persons  from  appearing  in  public  after  evening  prayers,  as  a 
patrol  would  go  the  rounds  and  put  every  one  to  death  who 
should  be  found  in  the  streets.  He  carried  this  measure  into 
effect.  Two  hundred  persons  were  put  to  death  by  the  patrol 
during  the  first  night,  only  five  during  the  second,  and  not  a 
drop  of  blood  was  shed  afterward,  nor  was  there  any  further 
tumid  fc  or  disturbance. 

Moawyah  then  employed  him  to  effect  the  same  reforms  in 
Khorassan  and  many  other  provinces,  and  the  more  he  had  to 
execute,  the  more  was  his  ability  evinced,  until  his  mere  name 
would  quell  commotion,  and  awe  the  most  turbulent  into 
quietude.  Yet  he  was  not  sanguinary  nor  cruel,  but  severely 
rigid  in  his  discipline,  and  inflexible  in  the  dispensation  of 
justice.  It  was  his  custom,  wherever  he  held  sway,  to  order 
the  inhabitants  to  leave  their  doors  open  at  night,  with  merely 
a  hurdle  at  the  entrance  to  exclude  cattle,  engaging  to  replace 
anything  that  should  be  stolen ;  and  so  effective  was  his  police 
that  no  robberies  were  committed. 

Though  Ziyad  had  whole  provinces  under  his  government, 
he  felt  himself  not  sufficiently  employed;  he  wrote  to  the 
Caliph,  therefore,  complaining  that,  while  his  left  hand  was 
occupied  in  governing  Babylonia,  his  right  hand  was  idle ;  and 
he  requested  the  government  of  Arabia  Petrea  also,  which  the 


422  X A 110 MET  AXD  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

Caliph  gladly  granted  him,  to  the  great  terror  of  its  inhabi- 
tants, who  dreaded  so  stern  a  ruler.  But  the  sand  of  Ziyad 
was  exhausted.  He  was  attacked  with  the  plague  when  on  the 
point  of  setting  out  for  Arabia.  The  disease  made  its  appear- 
ance with  an  ulcer  in  his  hand,  and  the  agony  made  him  de- 
liberate whether  to  smite  it  off.  As  it  was  a  case  of  conscience 
among  predestinarians.  he  constdted  a  venerable  cadi.  ;-If 
you  die,"  said  the  old  expounder  of  the  law,  "you  go  before 
God  without  that  hand,  which  you  have  cut  off  to  avoid  ap 
pearing  in  his  presence.  If  you  live,  you  give  a  by-name  to 
your  children,  who  will  be  called  the  sons  of  the  cripple.  I 
advise  you,  therefore,  to  let  it  alone."  The  intensity  of  the 
pain,  however,  made  him  determine  on  amputation,  but  the 
sight  of  the  fire  and  cauterizing  irons  again  deterred  him.  He 
was  surromided  by  the  most  expert  physicians,  but,  say  the 
Arabians.  ' '  It  was  not  in  their  power  to  reverse  the  scaled  de- 
cree." He  died  in  the  forty-fifth  year  of  the  Hegira  and  of 
his  own  age,  and  the  people  he  had  governed  with  so  much 
severity  considered  his  death  a  deliverance.  His  son  Obei- 
dallah,  though  only  twenty-five  years  of  age.  was  immediately 
invested  by  the  Caliph  with  the  government  of  Khorassan,  and 
gave  instant  proofs  of  inheriting  the  spirit  of  his  father.  On 
his  way  to  his  government  he  surprised  a  large  Turkish  force, 
and  put  them  to  such  sudden  flight  that  their  queen  left  one  of 
her  buskins  behind,  which  fell  into  the  hands  of  her  pursuers, 
and  was  estimated,  from  the  richness  of  its  jewels,  at  two 
thousand  pieces  of  gold. 

Ziyad  left  another  son  named  Salem,  who  was,  several  years 
afterward,  when  but  twenty-four  years  of  age.  appointed  to  the 
government  of  Khorassan,  and  rendered  himself  so  beloved  by 
the  people  that  upward  of  twenty  thousand  children  were 
named  after  him.  He  had  a  third  son  called  Kameil,  who  was 
distinguished  for  sagacity  and  ready  wit,  and  he  furthermore 
left  from  his  progeny  a  dynasty  of  princes  in  Arabia  Felix, 
who  ruled  under  the  denomination  of  the  children  of  Ziyad. 

The  wise  measures  of  Moawyah  produced  a  calm  through- 
out his  empire,  although  his  throne  seemed  to  be  elevated  on 
the  surface  of  a  volcano.  He  had  reinstated  the  famous 
Amru  Ibn  al  Aass  in  the  government  of  Egypt,  allowing  him 
to  enjoy  the  revenues  of  that  opulent  province,  in  gratitude 
for  his  having  proclaimed  him  Caliph  during  his  contest  with 
Ah;  but  stipulating  that  he  should  maintain  the  forces 
stationed  there.    The  veteran  general  did  not  long  enjoy  this 


MAHOMET  AND  UIS  SUCCESSORS.  423 

post,  as  lie  died  in  the  forty-third  year  of  the  Hegira,  a.d.  CG3, 
as  f ull  of  honors  as  of  years.  In  him  the  cause  of  Islam  lost  ono 
of  its  wisest  men  and  most  illustrious  conquerors.  "  Show  me," 
said  Omar  to  him  on  one  occasion,  ' '  the  sword  with  which  you 
have  fought  so  many  battles  and  slain  so  many  infidels."  The 
Caliph  expressed  surprise  when  he  unsheathed  an  ordinary 
scimetar.  "Alas!"  said  Amru,  "the  sword  without  the  arm 
of  the  master  is  no  sharper  nor  heavier  than  the  sword  of 
Farezdak  the  poet." 

Mahomet,  whose  death  preceded  that  of  Amru  upward  of 
thirty  years,  declared,  that  there  was  no  truer  Moslem  than  he 
would  prove  to  be,  nor  one  more  steadfast  in  the  faith.  Al- 
though Amru  passed  most  of  his  life  in  the  exercise  of  amis, 
he  found  time  to  cultivate  the  softer  arts  which  belong  to 
peace.  We  have  already  shown  that  he  was  an  orator  and  a 
poet.  The  witty  lampoons,  however,  which  he  wrote  against 
the  prophet  in  his  youth,  he  deeply  regretted  in  his  declining 
age.  He  sought  the  company  of  men  of  learning  and  science, 
and  delighted  in  the  conversation  of  philosophers.  He  has  left 
some  proverbs  distinguished  for  pithy  wisdom,  and  some 
beautiful  poetry,  and  his  dying  advice  to  his  children  was  cele- 
brated for  manly  sense  and  affecting  pathos. 


CHAPTER  XLIH. 


SIEGE  OF  CONSTANTINOPLE — TRUCE  WITH  THE  EJLPEROR— MURDER 
OF   HASSAN — DEATH   OF  AYESHA. 

The  Caliph  Moawyah  being  thoroughly  established  in  his 
sovereignty,  was  ambitious  of  foreign  conquests,  which  might 
shed  lustre  on  his  name,  and  obliterate  the  memory  of  these 
civil  wars.  Ho  was  desirous,  also,  of  placing  his  son  Yezid  in  a 
conspicuous  light,  and  gaining  for  him  the  affections  of  the 
people ;  for  he  secretly  entertained  hopes  of  making  him  his 
successor.  He  determined,  therefore,  to  send  him  with  a  great 
force  to  attempt  the  conquest  of  Constantinople,  at  that  time 
the  capital  of  the  Greek  and  Roman  empire.  This  indeed  was  a 
kind  of  holy  war;  for  it  was  fulfilling  one  of  the  most  ardent 
wishes  of  Mahomet,  who  had  looked  forward  to  the  conquest  of 
the  proud  capital  of  the  Ceesars  as  one  of  the  highest  triumphs 


424  MAHOMET  AND  niS  SUCCESSORS. 

of  Islam,  and  had  promised  full  pardon  of  all  their  sins  to  the 
Moslem  army  that  should  achieve  it. 

The  general  command  of  the  army  in  this  expedition  was 
given  to  a  veteran  named  Sophian,  and  he  was  accompanied 
by  several  of  those  old  soldiers  of  the  faith,  battered  in  the 
wars,  and  almost  broken  down  by  years,  who  had  fought  by 
the  side  of  the  prophet  at  Beder  and  Ohod,  and  were,  there- 
fore, honored  by  the  title  of  "  Companions,"  and  who  now 
showed  among  the  ashes  of  age  the  sparks  of  youthful  fire,  as 
they  girded  on  their  swords  for  this  sacred  enterprise. 

Hosein,  the  valiant  son  of  Ah,  also  accompanied  this  expe- 
dition; in  which,  in  fact,  the  flower  of  Moslem  chivalry 
engaged.  Great  preparations  were  made  by  sea  and  land,  and 
sanguine  hopes  entertained  of  success ;  the  Moslem  troops  were 
numerous  and  hardy,  inured  to  toil  and  practised  in  warfare, 
and  they  were  animated  by  the  certainty  of  paradise,  should 
they  be  victorious.  The  Greeks,  on  the  other  hand,  were  in  a 
state  of  military  decline,  and  their  emperor,  Constantine,  a 
grandson  of  Heraclius,  disgraced  his  illustrious  name  by  in- 
dolence and  incapacity. 

It  is  singular  and  to  be  lamented,  that  of  this  momentous 
expedition  we  have  very  few  particulars,  notwithstanding  that 
it  lasted  long,  and  must  have  been  checkered  by  striking  vicissi- 
tudes. The  Moslem  fleet  passed  without  impediment  through 
the  Dardanelles,  and  the  army  disembarked  within  seven 
miles  of  Constantinople.  For  many  days  they  pressed  the 
siege  with  vigor,  but  the  city  was  strongly  garrisoned  by 
fugitive  troops  from  various  quarters,  who  had  profited  by  sad 
experience  in  the  defence  of  fortified  towns;  the  walls  were 
strong  and  high ;  and  the  besieged  made  use  of  Greek  fire,  to 
the  Moslems  a  new  and  terrific  agent  of  destruction. 

Finding  all  their  efforts  in  vain,  the  Moslems  consoled  them- 
selves by  ravaging  the  neighboring  coasts  of  Europe  and  Asia, 
and  on  the  approach  of  winter  retired  to  the  island  of  Cyzicus, 
about  eighty  miles  from  Constantinople,  where  they  had  estab- 
lished their  headquarters. 

Six  years  were  passed  in  this  unavailing  enterprise;  im 
mense  sums  were  expended ;  thousands  ~bf  lives  were  lost  by 
disease;  ships  and  crews,  by  shipwreck  and  other  disasters, 
and  thousands  of  Moslems  were  slain,  gallantly  fighting  for 
paradise  under  the  walls  of  Constantinople.  The  most  re- 
nowned of  these  was  the  venerable  Abu  Ayub,  in  whose  house 
Mahomet  had  established  his  quarters  when  he  first  fled  to  Me- 


31  AUG  MET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  425 

dina,  and  who  had  fought  by  the  side  of  the  prophet  at  Beder  and 
Ohod.  He  won  an  honored  grave ;  for  though  it  remained  for 
ages  unknown,  yet  nearly  eight  centuries  after  this  event, 
when  Constantinople  was  conquered  by  Mahomet  II.,  the  spot 
was  revealed  in  a  miraculous  vision,  and  consecrated  by  a 
mausoleum  and  mosque,  which  exist  to  this  day,  and  to  which 
the  grand  seigniors  of  the  Ottoman  empire  repair  to  be  belted 
with  the  scimefcar  on  their  accession  to  the  throne. 

The  protracted  war  with  the  Greeks  revived  their  military 
ardor,  and  they  assailed  the  Moslems  in  their  turn.  Moawyah 
found  the  war  which  he  had  provoked  threatening  his  own 
security.  Other  enemies  were  pressing  on  him ;  age,  also,  had 
sapped  his  bodily  and  mental  vigor,  and  he  became  so  anxious 
for  safety  and  repose  that  he  in  a  manner  purchased  a  truce  of 
the  emperor  for  thirty  years,  by  agreeing  to  pay  an  annual 
tribute  of  three  thousand  pieces  of  gold,  fifty  slaves,  and  fifty 
horses  of  the  noblest  Arabian  blood. 

Yezid,  the  eldest  son  of  Moawyah,  and  his  secretly-intended 
successor,  had  failed  to  establish  a  renown  in  this  enterprise, 
and  if  Arabian  historians  speak  true,  his  ambition  led  him  to 
a  perfidious  act  sufficient  to  stamp  his  name  with  infamy.  He 
is  accused  of  instigating  the  murder  of  the  virtuous  Hassan, 
the  son  of  Ali,  who  had  abdicated  in  favor  of  Moawyah,  but 
who  was  to  resume  the  Caliphat  on  the  death  of  that  potentate. 
It  is  questionable  whether  Hassan  would  ever  have  claimed 
this  right,  for  he  was  of  quiet,  retired  habits,  and  preferred  the 
security  and  repose  of  a  private  station.  He  was  strong,  how- 
ever, in  the  affection  of  the  people,  and  to  remove  out  of  the 
way  so  dangerous  a  rival,  Yezid,  it  is  said,  prevailed  upon  one 
of  his  wives  to  poison  him,  promising  to  marry  her  in  reward 
of  her  treason.  The  murder  took  place  in  the  forty-ninth  year 
of  the  Hegira,  a.d.  669,  when  Hassan  was  forty-seven  years  of 
age.  In  his  last  agonies,  his  brother  Hosein  inquired  at  whose 
instigation  he  supposed  himself  to  have  been  poisoned,  that  he 
might  avenge  bis  death,  but  Hassan  refused  to  name  him. 
"This  world,"  said  he,  "is  only  a  long  night;  leave  him  alone 
until  he  and  I  shall  meet  in  open  daylight,  in  the  presence  of 
the  Most  High." 

Yezid  refused  to  fulfil  his  promise  of  taking  the  murderess  to 
wife,  alleging  that  it  would  be  madness  to  intrust  himself  to 
the  embraces  of  such  a  female;  he,  however,  commuted  the 
engagement  for  a  large  amount  in  money  and  jewels.  Moa- 
wyah is  accused  of  either  countenancing  or  being  pleased  with  a 


426  MAHOMET  AND  MS  SUCCESSORS. 

murder  which  made  his  son  more  eligible  to  the  succession,  for 
it  is  said  that  when  he  heard  of  the  death  of  Hassan,  '"he  fell 
down  and  worshipped." 

Hassan  had  been  somewhat  uxorious;  or  .rather,  he  had 
numerous  wives,  and  was  prone  to  change  them  when  attracted 
by  new  beauties.  One  of  them  was  the  daughter  of  Yczdegird, 
the  last  king  of  the  Persians,  and  she  bore  him  several  children. 
He  had.  altogether,  fifteen  sons  and  five  daughters,  and  con- 
tributed greatly  to  increase  the  race  of  Sheriffs,  or  Fatimites, 
descendants  from  the  prophet.  In  his  testament  he  left  direc- 
tions that  he  should  be  buried  by  the  sepulchre  of  his  grandsire 
Mahomet ;  but  Ayesha,  whose  hatred  for  the  family  of  Ah  went 
beyond  the  grave,  declared  that  the  mansion  was  hers,  and  re- 
fused her  consent ;  he  was,  therefore,  interred  in  the  common 
burial-ground  of  the  city. 

Ayesha,  herself,  died  some  time  afterward,  in  the  fifty-eighth 
year  of  the  Hegira,  having  survived  the  prophet  forty -seven 
years.  She  was  often  called  the  Prophetess,  and  generally  de- 
nominated the  Mother  of  the  Faithful,  although  she  had  never 
borne  any  issue  to  Mahomet,  and  had  employed  her  widowhood 
in  intrigues  to  prevent  Ali  and  his  children,  who  were  the  only 
progeny  of  the  prophet,  from  sitting  on  the  throne  of  the 
Caliphs.  All  the  other  wives  of  Mahomet  who  survived  him 
passed  the  remainder  of  their  lives  in  widowhood ;  but  none, 
save  her,  seem  to  have  been  held  in  especial  reverence. 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 


MOSLEM    CONQUESTS     IN    NORTHERN    AFRICA— ACHIEVEMENTS    OF 

ACBAH;   HIS  DEATH. 

The  conquest  of  Northern  Africa,  so  auspiciously  commenced 
by  Abdallah  Ibn  Saad,  had  been  suspended  for  a  number  of 
years  by  the  pressure  of  other  concerns,  and  particularly  by 
the  siege  of  Constantinople,  which  engrossed  a  great  part  of 
the  Moslem  forces;  in  the  mean  time  Cyrene  had  shaken  off 
the  yoke,  all  Cyrenaica  was  in  a  state  of  insurrection,  and 
there  was  danger  that  the  places  which  had  been  taken  and 
the  posts  which  had  been  established  by  the  Arab  conquerors 
would  be  completely  lost. 


MAHOMET  AND   HIS  SUCCESSORS.  427 

The  Caliph  Moawyah  now  looked  round  for  some  active  and 
ahlo  general,  competent  to  secure  and  extend  his  sway  along 
the  African  sea-coast.  Such  a  one  he  found  in  Acbah  Ibn  Nafe 
el  Fehri,  whom  he  dispatched  from  Damascus  with  ten  thou- 
sand horse.  Acbah  made  his  way  with  all  speed  into  Africa, 
his  forces  augmenting  as  he  proceeded,  by  the  accession  or 
barbarian  troops.  He  passed  triumphantly  through  Cyrenaien 
laid  close  siege  to  the  city  of  Cyrene,  and  retook  it,  notwith- 
standing its  strong  walls  and  gi-eat  population;  but  in  the 
course  of  the  siege  many  of  its  ancient  and  magnificent  edifices 
were  destroyed. 

Acbah  continued  his  victorious  course  westward,  traversing 
wildernesses  sometimes  barren  and  desolate,  sometimes  en- 
tangled with  forests,  and  infested  by  serpents  and  savage 
animals,  until  he  reached  the  domains  of  ancient  Carthage,  the 
present  territory  of  Tunis.  Here  he  determined  to  found  a  city 
to  serve  as  a  stronghold,  and  a  place  of  refuge  in  the  heart  of 
these  conquered  regions.  The  site  chosen  was  a  valley  closely 
wooded,  and  abounding  with  lions,  tigers,  and  serpents.  The 
Arabs  give  a  marvellous  account  of  the  founding  of  the  city. 
Acbah,  say  they,  went  forth  into  the  forest,  and  adjured  its 
savage  inhabitants.  ' '  Hence !  avaunt !  wild  beasts  and  ser- 
pents! Hence,  quit  this  wood  and  valley!"  This  solemn  ad- 
juration he  repeated  three  several  times,  on  three  several  days, 
and  not  a  lion,  tiger,  leopard,  nor  serpent,  but  departed  from 
the  place. 

Others,  less  poetic,  record  that  he  cleared  away  a  forest 
which  had  been  a  lurking  place  not  merely  for  wild  beasts  and 
serpents,  but  for  rebels  and  barbarous  hordes ;  that  he  used  the 
wood  in  constructing  walls  for  his  new  city,  and  when  these 
were  completed,  planted  his  lance  in  the  centre,  and  exclaimed 
to  his  followers,  "This  is  your  caravan."  Such  was  the  origin 
of  the  city  of  Kairwan  or  Caerwan,  situated  thirty-three 
leagues  southeast  of  Carthage,  and  twelve  from  the  sea  on  the 
borders  of  the  great  desert.  Here  Acbah  fixed  his  seat  of  gov- 
ernment, erecting  mosques  and  other  public  edifices,  and  hold- 
ing all  the  surrounding  country  in  subjection. 

While  Acbah  was  thus  honorably  occupied,  the  Caliph 
Moawyah,  little  aware  of  the  immense  countries  embraced  in 
these  recent  conquests,  united  them  with  Egypt  under  one 
command,  as  if  they  had  been  two  small  provinces,  and  ap- 
pointed Muhegir  Ibn  Omm  Dinar,  one  of  the  Ansari,  as  emir 
or  governor.     Muhegir  was  an  ambitious,  or  rather  an  envious 


428  MAHOMET  AND   HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

and  perfidious  man.  Scarce  had  he  entered  upon  his  govern- 
ment when  he  "began  to  sicken  with  envy  of  the  brilliant  fame 
of  Acbah  and  his  vast  popularity,  not  merely  with  the  army, 
but  throughout  the  country;  he  accordingly  made  such  un- 
favorable reports  of  the  character  and  conduct  of  that  general, 
in  his  letters  to  the  Caliph,  that  the  latter  was  induced  to  dis- 
place him  from  the  command  of  the  African  army,  and  recall 
him  to  Damascus. 

The  letter  of  recall  being  sent  under  cover  to  Muhegir,  he 
transmitted  it  by  Muslama  Ibn  Machlad,  one  of  his  generals, 
to  Acbah,  charging  his  envoy  to  proceed  with  great  caution, 
and  to  treat  Acbah  with  profound  deference,  lest  the  troops, 
out  of  their  love  for  him,  should  resist  the  order  for  his  depo- 
sition. Muslama  found  Acbah  in  his  camp  at  Cyrene,  and 
presented  him  the  Caliph's  letter  of  recall,  and  a  letter  from 
Muhegir  as  governor  of  the  province,  letting  him  know  that 
Muslama  and  the  other  generals  were  authorized  to  arrest  him 
should  he  hesitate  to  obey  the  command  of  the  Caliph. 

There  was  no  hesitation  on  the  part  of  Acbah.  He  at  once 
discerned  whence  the  blow  proceeded.  "Oh  God!"  exclaimed 
he,  "spare  my  life  until  I  can  vindicate  myself  from  the  slan- 
ders of  Muhegir  Ibn  Omm  Dinar. "  He  then  departed  instantly, 
without  even  entering  his  house ;  made  his  way  with  all  speed 
to  Damascus,  and  appeared  before  Moawyah  in  the  presence  of 
his  generals  and  the  officers  of  his  court.  Addressing  the  Caliph 
with  noble  indignation,  "I  have  traversed  deserts,"  said  he, 
"  and  encountered  savage  tribes;  I  have  conquered  towns  and 
regions,  and  have  brought  their  infidel  inhabitants  to  the  know- 
ledge of  God  and  his  law.  I  have  built  mosques  and  palaces, 
and  fortified  our  dominion  over  the  land,  and  in  reward  I  have 
been  degraded  from  my  post,  and  summoned  hither  as  a  cul- 
prit. I  appeal  to  your  justice,  whether  I  have  merited  such 
treatment?" 

Moawyah  felt  rebuked  by  the  magnanimous  bearing  of  his 
general,  for  he  was  aware  that  he  had  been  precipitate  in  con- 
demning him  on  false  accusations.  "I  am  already  informed," 
said  he,  "of  the  true  nature  of  the  case.  I  now  know  who  is 
Muhegir,  and  who  is  Acbah;  return  to  the  command  of  the 
army,  and  pursue  your  glorious  career  of  conquest." 

Although  it  was  not  until  the  succeeding  Caliphat  that  Acbah 
resumed  the  command  in  Africa,  we  will  anticipate  dates  in 
order  to  maintain  imbroken  the  thread  of  his  story.  In  pass- 
ing through  Egypt  he  deposed  Muslama  from  a  command,  in 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSOHS.  429 

which  he  had  been  placed  by  Muhegir,  and  ordered  him  to 
remain  in  one  of  the  Egyptian  towns  a  prisoner  at  large. 

He  was  grieved  to  perceive  the  mischief  that  had  been  done 
in  Africa,  during  his  absence,  by  Muhegir,  who,  out  of  mere 
envy  and  jealousy,  had  endeavored  to  mar  and  obliterate  all 
traces  of  his  good  deeds;  dismantling  the  cities  he  had  built, 
destroying  his  public  edifices  at  Caerwan,  and  transferring 
the  inhabitants  to  another  place.  Acbah  stripped  him  of  his 
command,  placed  him  in  irons,  and  proceeded  to  remedy  tbe 
evils  he  had  perpetrated.  The  population  was  restored  to 
Caerwan,  its  edifices  were  rebuilt,  and  it  rose  from  its  tempo- 
rary decline  more  prosperous  and  beautiful  than  ever.  Acbah 
then  left  Zohair  Ibn  Kais  in  command  of  this  metropolis,  and 
resumed  bis  career  of  western  conquest,  carrying  Muhegir  with 
him  in  chains.  He  crossed  the  kingdom  of  Numidia,  now 
Algiers,  and  the  vast  regions  of  Mauritania,  now  Morocco, 
subduing  their  infidel  inhabitants  or  converting  them  with 
the  sword,  until,  coming  to  the  western  shores  of  Africa,  he 
spurred  his  charger  into  the  waves  of  the  Atlantic  until  they 
rose  to  his  saddle  girtlis;  then  raising  his  scimetar  toward 
heaven,  "  Ob  Allah!"  cried  the  zealous  Moslem,  "did  not  these 
profound  waters  prevent  me,  still  further  would  I  carry  the 
knowledge  of  thy  law,  and  the  reverence  of  thy  holy  name. " 

While  Acbah  was  thus  urging  his  victorious  way  to  the  utter- 
most bounds  of  Mauritania,  tidings  overtook  him  that  the 
Greeks  and  barbarians  were  rising  in  rebellion  in  his  rear; 
that  the  mountains  were  pouring  down  their  legions,  and  that 
his  city  of  Caerwan  was  in  imminent  danger.  He  had  in  fact 
incurred  the  danger  against  which  the  late  Caliph  Omar  had 
so  often  cautioned  his  too  adventurous  generals.  Turning  his 
steps  he  hastened  back,  marching  at  a  rapid  rate.  As  he 
passed  through  Zab  or  Numidia,  he  was  harassed  by  a  horde 
of  Berbers  or  Moors,  headed  by  Aben  Cahina,  a  native  chief  of 
dai'ing  prowess,  who  had  descended  from  the  fastnesses  of  the 
mountains,  in  which  he  had  taken  refuge  from  the  invaders. 
The  warrior,  with  his  mountain  band,  hung  on  the  rear  of  the 
army,  picking  off  stragglers,  and  often  carrying  havoc  into  the 
broken  ranks,  but  never  venturing  on  a  pitched  battle.  He 
gave  over  his  pursuit  as  thej^  crossed  the  bounds  of  Numidia. 

On  arriving  at  Caerwan  Acbah  found  everything  secure,  the 
rebellion  having  been  suppressed  by  the  energy  and  bravery 
of  Zohair,  aided  by  an  associate  warrior,  Omar  Ibn  Ali,  of  the 
tribe  o±  Koreish. 


430  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

Acbah  now  distributed  a  part  of  his  army  about  the  neigh- 
borhood, formed  of  the  residue  a  flying  camp  of  cavalry,  and 
leaving  Zohair  and  his  brave  associate  to  maintain  the  safety 
of  the  metropolis,  returned  to  scour  the  land  of  Zab,  and  take 
vengeance  on  the  Berber  chief  who  had  harassed  and  insulted 
him  when  on  the  march. 

He  proceeded  without  opposition  as  far  as  a  place  called 
Tehuda;  when  in  some  pass  or  defile  he  found  himself  sur- 
rounded by  a  great  host  of  Greeks  and  Berbers,  led  on  by  the 
mountain  chief  Aben  Cahina.  In  fact,  both  Christians  and 
Moors,  who  had  so  often  been  in  deadly  conflict  in  these  very 
regions,  had  combined  to  drive  these  new  intruders  from  the 
land. 

Acbah  scanned  the  number  and  array  of  the  advancing 
enemy,  and  saw  there  was  no  retreat,  and  that  destruction 
was  inevitable.  He  marshalled  his  little  army  of  horsemen, 
however,  with  great  calmness,  put  up  the  usual  prayers,  and 
exhorted  his  men  to  fight  valiantly.  Summoning  Muhegir  to 
his  presence,  "  This,"  said  ho,  "  is  a  day  of  liberty  and  gain  for 
all  true  Moslems,  for  it  is  a  day  of  martyrdom.  I  would  not 
deprive  you  of  so  great  a  chance  for  paradise."  So  saying,  he 
ordered  his  chains  to  be  taken  off. 

Muhegir  thanked  him  for  the  favor,  and  expressed  his  deter- 
mination to  die  in  the  cause  of  the  faith.  Acbah  then  gave 
him  arms  and  a  horse,  and  both  of  them,  drawing  their  swords, 
broke  the  scabbards  in  token  that  they  would  fight  until  vic- 
tory or  death.  The  battle  was  desperate,  and  the  carnage 
terrible.  Almost  all  the  Moslems  fought  to  the  very  death, 
asking  no  quarter.  Acbah  was  one  of  the  last  of  his  devoted 
band,  and  his  corpse  was  found,  scimetar  in  hand,  upon  a  heap 
of  the  enemy  whom  he  had  slain. 


CHAPTER  XLV. 


MOAWYAH  NAMES  HIS   SUCCESSOR — HIS  LAST  ACTS  AND    DEATH- 
TRAITS  OF  HIS  CHARACTER. 

Moawyah  was  now  far  advanced  in  years,  and  aware  that 
he  had  not  long  to  live ;  he  sought  therefore  to  accomplish  a 
measure  which  he  bad  long  contemplated,  and  which  was  in- 
dicative of  his  ambitious  character  and  his  pride  of  family.    It 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  431 

was  to  render  the  Caliphat  hereditary,  and  to  perpetuate  it  in 
his  line.  For  this  purpose  he  openly  named  his  son  Yezid  as 
his  successor,  and  requested  the  different  provinces  to  send 
deputies  to  Damascus  to  perform  the  act  of  fealty  to  him. 
The  nomination  of  a  successor  was  what  the  prophet  himself 
had  not  done,  and  what  Abu  Beker,  Omar,  and  Othman  had 
therefore  declined  to  do;  the  attempt  to  render  the  Caliphat 
hereditary  was  in  direct  opposition  to  the  public  will  mani- 
fested repeatedly  in  respect  to  Ah ;  Yezid,  to  whom  he  pro- 
posed to  bequeath  the  government,  was  publicly  detested,  yet, 
notwithstanding  all  these  objections,  such  influence  had  Moa- 
wyah  acquired  over  the  public  mind  that  delegates  arrived  at 
Damascus  from  all  parts,  and  gave  their  hands  to  Yezid  in  pledge 
of  future  fealty.  Thus  was  established  the  dynasty  of  the  Om- 
miades,  which  held  the  Caliphat  for  nearly  a  hundred  years. 
There  were  fourteen  Caliphs  of  this  haughty  line,  known  as 
the  Pharaohs  of  the  house  of  Omaya  (or  rather  Ommiah).  The 
ambition  of  rule  manifested  in  Moawyah,  the  founder  of  tho 
dynasty,  continued  even  among  his  remote  descendants,  who 
exercised  sovereignty  nearly  four  centuries  afterward  in  Spain. 
One  of  them,  anxious  to  ascend  the  throne  in  a  time  of  turbu- 
lence and  peril,  exclaimed,  "Only  make  me  king  to-day,  and 
you  may  kill  me  to-morrow !" 

The  character  of  the  Caliph  had  much  changed  in  the  hands 
of  Moawyah,  and  in  the  luxurious  city  of  Damascus  assumed 
more  and  more  the  state  of  the  oriental  sovereigns  which  it 
superseded.  The  frugal  simplicity  of  the  Arab,  and  the  stern 
virtues  of  the  primitive  disciples  of  Islam,  were  softening  down 
and  disappearing  among  the  voluptuous  delights  of  Syria. 
Moawyah,  however,  endeavored  to  throw  over  his  favorite  city 
of  Damascus  some  of  the  sanctity  with  which  Mecca  and 
Medina  were  invested.  For  this  purpose  he  sought  to  transfer 
to  it,  from  Medina,  the  pulpit  of  the  prophet,  as  also  his  walk- 
ing-staff; "for  such  precious  relics  of  the  apostle  of  God." 
3aid  he,  "ought  not  to  remain  among  the  murderers  of  Oth- 
man." 

The  staff  was  found  after  great  search,  but  when  the  pulpit 
was  about  to  be  removed,  there  occurred  so  great  an  eclipse  of 
the  sun  that  the  stars  became  visible.  The  superstitious  Arabs 
considered  this  a  signal  of  divine  disapprobation,  and  the  pul- 
pit was  suffered  to  remain  in  Medina. 

Feeling  his  end  approaching,  Moawyah  summoned  his  son 
Yezid  to  his  presence,  and  gave  advice  full  of  experience  aud 


432  MAHOMET  AND  EIS  SUCCESSORS. 

wisdom.  "  Confide  in  the  Arabs,"  said  he,  "  as  the  sure  foun- 
dation of  your  power.  Prize  the  Syrians,  for  they  are  faithful 
and  enterprising,  though  prone  to  degenerate  when  out  of  their 
own  country.  Gratify  the  people  of  Irak  in  all  their  demands, 
for  they  are  restless  and  turbulent,  and  would  unsheathe  a 
hundred  thousand  scimetars  against  thee  on  the  least  provo- 
cation. " 

"There  are  four  rivals,  my  son,"  added  he,  "on  whom  thou 
must  keep  a  vigilant  eye.  The  first  is  Hosein,  the  son  of  Ah, 
who  has  great  influence  in  Irak,  but  he  is  upright  and  sincere, 
and  thy  own  cousin;  treat  him,  therefore,  with  clemency,  if 
he  fall  within  thy  power.  The  second  is  Abdallah  Ibn  Omar ; 
but  he  is  a  devout  man,  and  will  eventually  come  under  alle- 
giance to  thee.  The  third  is  Abda'lrahman ;  but  he  is  a  man  of 
no  force  of  mind,  and  merely  speaks  from  the  dictates  of 
others ;  he  is,  moreover,  incontinent,  and  a  gambler ;  he  is  not 
a  rival  to  be  feared.  The  fourth  is  Abdallah  Ibn  Zobeir;  he 
unites  the  craft  of  the  fox  with  the  strength  and  courage  of 
the  lion.  If  he  appear  against  thee,  oppose  him  valiantly ;  if 
he  offer  peace,  accept  it,  and  spare  the  blood  of  thy  people.  If 
he  fall  within  your  power,  cut  him  to  pieces !" 

Moawyah  was  gathered  to  his  fathers  in  the  sixtieth  year 
of  the  Hegira,  a.  d.  679,  at  the  age  of  seventy,  or,  as  some  say, 
seventy-five  years,  of  which  he  had  reigned  nearly  twenty. 
He  was  interred  in  Damascus,  which  he  had  made  the  capital 
of  the  Moslem  empke,  and  which  continued  to  be  so  during 
the  dynasty  of  the  Ommiados.  The  inscription  of  his  signet 
was,  "Every  deed  hath  its  meed;"  or,  according  to  others, 
"All  power  rests  with  God." 

Though  several  circumstances  in  his  reign  savor  of  crafty, 
and  even  treacherous  policy,  yet  he  bears  a  high  name  in 
Moslem  history.  His  courage  was  undoubted,  and  of  a  gener- 
erous  kind;  for  though  fierce  in  combat,  he  was  clement  in 
victory.  He  prided  himself  greatly  upon  being  of  the  tribe  of 
Koreish,  and  was  highly  aristocratical  before  he  attained  to 
sovereign  power;  yet  he  was  affable  and  accessible  at  all  times, 
and  made  himself  popular  among  his  people.  His  ambition 
was  tempered  with  some  considerations  of  justice.  He  as- 
sumed the  throne,  it  is  true,  by  the  aid  of  the  scimetar,  without 
regular  election;  but  he  subsequently  bought  off  the  right  of 
his  rival  Hassan,  the  legitimate  Caliph,  and  transcended  mu- 
nificently all  the  stipulations  of  his  purchase,  presenting  him, 
at  one  time,  with  four  million  pieces  of' gold.     One  almost  re- 


MAHOMET  AND   MS  SUCCESSORS.  433 

gards  with  incredulity  the  stories  of  immense  sums  passing 
from  hand  to  hand  among  these  Arab  conquerors,  as  freely  as 
bags  of  dates  in  their  native  deserts ;  but  it  must  be  recollected 
they  had  the  plundering  of  the  rich  empires  of  the  East,  and 
as  yet  were  flush  with  the  spoils  of  recent  conquests. 

The  liberality  of  Moawyah  is  extolled  as  being  beyond  all 
bounds ;  one  instance  on  record  of  it,  however,  savors  of  policy. 
He  gave  Ayesha  a  bracelet  valued  at  a  hundred  thousand 
pieces  of  gold,  that  had  formerly  perhaps  sparkled  on  the  arm 
of  some  Semiramis ;  but  Ayesha,  he  knew,  was  a  potent  friend 
and  a  dangerous  enemy. 

Moawyah  was  sensible  to  the  charms  of  poetry,  if  we  may 
judge  from  the  following  anecdotes : 

A  robber,  who  had  been  condemned  by  the  Cadi  to  have  his 
head  cut  off,  appealed  to  the  Caliph  in  a  copy  of  verses,  plead- 
ing the  poverty  and  want  by  Which  he  had  been  driven. 
Touched  by  the  poetry,  Moawyah  reversed  the  sentence,  and 
gave  the  poet  a  purse  of  gold,  that  he  might  have  no  plea  of 
necessity  for  repeating  the  crime. 

Another  instance  was  that  of  a  young  Arab,  who  had  mar- 
ried a  beautiful  damsel,  of  whom  he  was  so  enamored  that  he 
lavished  all  his  fortune  upon  her.  The  governor  of  Cufa,  hap- 
pening to  see  her,  was  so  struck  with  her  beauty  that  he  took 
her  from  the  youth  by  force.  The  latter  made  his  complaint 
to  the  Caliph  in  verse,  poured  forth  with  Arab  eloquence,  and 
with  all  the  passion  of  a  lover,  praying  redress  or  death. 
Moawyah,  as  before,  was  moved  by  the  poetic  appeal,  and 
sent  orders  to  the  governor  of  Cufa  to  restore  the  wife  to  her 
husband.  The  governor,  infatuated  with  her  charms,  en- 
treated the  Caliph  to  let  him  have  the  enjoyment  of  her  for 
one  year,  and  then  to  take  his  head.  The  curiosity  of  the 
Caliph  was  awakened  by  this  amorous  contest,  and  he  caused 
the  female  to  be  sent  to  him.  Struck  with  her  ravishing 
beauty,  with  the  grace  of  her  deportment,  and  the  eloquence  of 
her  expressions,  he  could  not  restrain  his  admiration ;  and  in 
the  excitement  of  the  moment  told  her  to  choose  between  the 
young  Arab,  the  governor  of  Cufa,  and  himself.  She  ac- 
knowledged the  honor  proffered  by  the  Caliph  to  be  utterly 
beyond  her  merit;  but  avowed  that  affection  and  duty  still 
inclined  her  to  her  husband.  Her  modesty  and  virtue  de- 
lighted Moawyah  even  more  than  her  beauty;  he  restored 
her  to  her  husband,  and  enriched  them  both  with  princely 
munificence. 


434  MAHOMET  A^/JJ  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 

SUCCESSION    OF    YEZID,    SEVENTH    CALIPH — FINAL    FORTUNES    OF 
HOSEIN,    THE  SON  OF  ALL 

Yezid,  the  son  of  Moawyah,  succeeded  to  the  Caliphat  with- 
out the  ceremony  of  an  election.  His  inauguration  took  place 
in  the  new  moon  of  the  month  Eajeb,  in  the  sixtieth  year  of 
the  Hegira,  coincident  with  the  seventh  day  of  April  in  the 
year  of  our  Lord  G80.  He  was  thirty-four  years  of  age,  and  is 
described  as  tall  and  thin,  with  a  ruddy  countenance  pitted 
with  the  small-pox,  black  eyes,  curled  hair,  and  a  comely  beard. 
He  was  not  deficient  in  talent,  and  possessed  the  popular  gift 
of  poetry.  The  effect  of  his  residence  among  the  luxuries  and 
refinements  of  Syria  was  evinced  in  a  fondness  for  silken  rai- 
ment and  the  delights  of  music;  but  he  was  stigmatized  as 
base-spirited,  sordid,  and  covetous;  grossly  sensual,  and  scan- 
dalously intemperate. 

Notwithstanding  all  this,  he  was  readily  acknowledged  <is 
Caiiph  throughout  the  Moslem  empire,  excepting  by  Mecca, 
Medina,  and  some  cities  of  Babylonia.  His  first  aim  was  to 
secure  undisputed  possession  of  the  Caliphat.  The  only  com- 
petitors from  whom  he  had  danger  to  apprehend  were  Hosein, 
the  son  of  Ali,  and  Abdallah,  the  son  of  Zobeir.  They  were 
both  at  Medina,  and  he  sent  orders  to  Waled  Ibn  Otbah,  the 
governor  of  that  city,  to  exact  from  them  an  oath  of  fealty. 
Waled,  who  was  of  an  undecided  character,  consulted  Merwan 
Ibn  Hakem,  formerly  secretary  of  Othman,  and  suspected  of 
forging  the  letter  which  effected  the  ruin  of  that  Caliph.  He 
was  in  fact  one  of  the  most  crafty  as  well  as  able  men  of  the 
age.  His  advice  to  the  governor  was  to  summon  Hosein  and 
Abdallah  to  his  presence,  before  they  should  hear  of  the  death 
of  Moawyah,  and  concert  any  measures  of  opposition;  then 
to  tender  to  them  the  oath  of  fealty  to  Yezid,  and,  should  they 
refuse,  to  smite  off  their  heads. 

Hosein  and  Abdallah  discovered  the  plot  in  time  to  effect 
their  escape  with  their  families  to  Mecca,  where  they  declared 
themselves  openly  in  opposition  to  Yezid.  In  a  little  while 
Hosien  received  secret  messages  from  the  people  of  Cufa,  in- 
viting him  to  their  city,  assuring  him  not  merely  of  protection, 
but  of  joyful  homage  as  the  son  of  Ali,  the  legitimate  successor 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  435 

of  the  prophet.     He  had  only,  they  said,  to  show  himself  in 
their  city,  and  all  Babylonia  would  rise  in  arms  in  his  favor. 

Hosein  sent  his  cousin,  Muslim  Ibn  Okail,  to  ascertain  the 
truth  of  these  representations,  and  to  foment  the  spirit  of  in- 
surrection should  it  really  exist  among  the  people  of  Cufa. 
Muslim  made  his  way,  almost  unattended,  and  with  great  peril 
and  hardship,  across  the  deserts  of  Irak.  On  arriving  at  Cufa 
he  was  well  received  by  the  party  of  Hosein  ;  they  assured  him 
that  eighteen  thousand  men  were  ready  to  sacrifice  their  blood 
arid  treasure  in  casting  down  the  usurper  and  upholding  the 
legitimate  Caliph.  Every  day  augmented  the  number  of  ap- 
parent zealots  in  the  cause,  until  it  amounted  to  one  hundred 
and  forty  thousand.  Of  all  this  Muslim  sent  repeated  accounts 
to  Hoseiu,  urging  him  to  come  on,  and  assuring  hiiu  that  the 
conspiracy  had  been  carried  on  with  such  secrecy  thatNu'man 
Ibn  Baschir,  the  governor  of  Cufa,  had  no  suspicion  of  it. 

But  though  the  conspiracy  had  escaped  the  vigilance  of 
Nu'man,  intimation  of  it  had  reached  the  Caliph  Yezid  at  Da- 
mascus, who  sent  instant  orders  to  Obeid'aliah,  the  emir  of 
Bassora,  to  repair  with  all  speed  to  Cufa,  displace  its  negligent 
governor,  and  take  that  place  likewise  under  his  command. 

Obeid'aliah  was  the  son  of  Ziyad,  and  inherited  all  the  energy 
of  his  father.  Aware  that  the  moment  was  critical,  he  set  off 
from  Bassora  with  about  a  score  of  fleet  horsemen.  The  peo- 
ple of  Cufa  were  on  the  lookout  for  the  arrival  of  Hosein,  which 
was  daily  expected,  when  Obeid'aliah  rode  into  the  city  in  the 
twilight  at  the  head  of  his  troopers.  He  wore  a  black  turban, 
as  was  the  custom  likewise  with  Hosein.  The  populace  crowded 
round  him,  hailing  the  supposed  grandson  of  the  prophet. 

"Stand  off!  "  cried  the  horsemen  fiercely.  "It  is  the  emu- 
Obeid'aliah." 

The  crowd  shrank  back  abashed  and  disappointed,  and  the 
emir  rode  on  to  the  castle.  The  popular  chagrin  increased 
when  it  was  known  that  he  had  command  of  the  province  ;  for 
he  was  reputed  a  second  Ziyad  in  energy  and  decision.  His 
measures  soon  proved  his  claims  to  that  character.  He  dis- 
covered and  disconcerted  the  plans  of  the  conspirators  ;  drove 
Muslim  to  a  premature  outbreak  ;  dispersed  his  hasty  levy, 
and  took  him  prisoner.  The  latter  shed  bitter  tears  on  his 
capture ;  not  on  his  own  account,  but  on  the  account  of  Ho- 
sein, wThom  he  feared  his  letters  and  sanguine  representations 
had  involved  in  ruin,  by  inducing  him  to  come  on  to  Cufa. 
The  head  of  Muslim  was  struck  off  and  sent  to  the  Caliph. 


436  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

His  letters  had  indeed  produced  the  dreaded  effect.  On 
receiving  them  Hosein  prepared  to  comply  with  the  earnest  in- 
vitation of  the  people  of  Cufa.  It  was  in  vain  his  friends  re- 
minded him  of  the  proverbial  faithlessness  of  these  people;  it 
was  in  vain  they  urged  him  to  wait  until  they  had  committed 
themselves,  by  openly  taking  the  field.  It  was  in  vain  that  his 
near  relative  Abdallah  Ibn  Abbas  urged  him  at  least  to  leave 
the  females  of  his  family  at  Mecca,  lest  he  should  be  massacred 
in  the  midst  of  them,  like  the  Caliph  Othman.  Hosein,  in  the 
true  spirit  of  a  Moslem  and  predestinarian,  declared  he  would 
leave  the  event  to  God,  and  accordingly  set  out  with  his  wives 
and  children,  and  a  number  of  his  relatives;  escorted  by  a 
handful  of  Arab  troops. 

Arrived  in  the  confines  of  Babylonia,  he  was  met  by  a  body 
of  a  thousand  horse,  led  on  by  Harro,  an  Arab  of  the  tribe  of 
Temimah.  He  at  first  supposed  them  to  be  a  detachment  of 
his  partisans  sent  to  meet  him,  but  was  soon  informed  by  Harro 
that  he  came  from  the  emir  Obeid'allah  to  conduct  him  and  all 
the  people  with  him  to  Cufa. 

Hosein  haughtily  refused  to  submit  to  the  emir's  orders,  and 
represented  that  he  came  in  peace,  invited  by  the  inhabitants 
of  Cufa,  as  the  rightful  Caliph.  He  set  torth  at  the  same  time 
the  justice  of  his  claims,  and  endeavored  to  enlist  Harro  in  his 
cause;  but  the  latter,  though  in  nowise  hostile  to  him,  avoided 
committing  himself,  and  urged  him  to  proceed  quietly  to  Cufa 
under  his  escort. 

While  they  were  yet  discoursing,  four  horsemen  rode  up  ac- 
companied by  a  guide.  One  of  these  named  Thirmah  was 
known  to  Hosein,  and  was  reluctantly  permitted  by  Harro  to 
converse  with  him  apart.  Hosein  inquired  about  the  situation 
of  things  at  Cufa.  "  The  nobles,"  replied  the  other,  "are  now 
against  you  to  a  man;  some  of  the  common  people  are  still 
with  you ;  by  to-morrow,  however,  not  a  scimetar  but  will  be 
unsheathed  against  you." 

Hosein  inquired  about  Kais,  a  messenger  whom  he  had  sent 
in  advance  to  apprise  his  adherents  of  his  approach.  He  had 
been  seized  on  suspicion,  ordered  as  a  test,  by  Obeid'allah,  to 
curse  Hosein  and  his  father  Ali,  and  on  his  refusing  had  been 
thrown  headlong  from  the  top  of  the  citadel. 

Hosein  shed  tears  at  hearing  the  fate  of  his  faithful  mes- 
senger. "  There  be  some,"  said  he,  in  the  words  of  the  Koran, 
"who  are  already  dead,  and  some  who  living  expect  death. 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  437 

Let  their  mansions,  oh  God,  be  in  the  gardens  of  paradise,  and 
receive  us  with  them  to  thy  mercy." 

Thirmah  represented  to  Hosein  that  his  handful  of  followers 
would  be  of  no  avail  against  the  host  prepared  to  oppose  him 
in  the  plains  of  Cufa,  and  offered  to  conduct  him  to  the  im- 
pregnable mountains  of  Aja,  in  the  province  of  Naja,  where 
ten  thousand  men  of  the  tribe  of  Tay  might  soon  be  assembled 
to  defend  him.  He  declined  his  advice,  however,  and  ad- 
vanced toward  Kadesia,  the  place  famous  for  the  victory  over 
the  Persians.  Harro  and  his  cavalry  kept  pace  with  him, 
watching  every  movement,  but  offering  no  molestation.  The 
mind  of  Hosein,  however,  was  darkened  by  gloomy  forebod- 
ings. A  stupor  at  times  hung  over  his  faculties  as  he  rode 
slowly  along ;  he  appeared  to  be  haunted  with  a  presentiment 
of  death. 

"We  belong  to  God,  and  to  God  we  must  return,"  exclaimed 
he  as  he  roused  himself  at  one  time  from  a  dream  or  reverie. 
He  had  beheld  in  his  phantasy  a  horseman  who  had  addressed 
him  in  warning  words :  ' '  Men  travel  in  the  night,  and  their 
destiny  travels  in  the  night  to  meet  them."  This  he  pro- 
nounced a  messenger  of  death. 

In  this  dubious  and  desponding  mood  he  was  brought  to  a 
halt,  near  the  banks  of  the  Euphrates,  by  the  appearance  of 
four  thousand  men,  in  hostile  array,  commanded  by  A  mar  Ibn 
Saad.  These,  likewise,  had  been  sent  out  hy  the  emir  Obeid'- 
allah,  who  was  full  of  uneasiness  lest  there  should  be  some 
popular  movement  in  favor  of  Hosein.  The  latter,  however, 
was  painfully  convinced  by  this  repeated  appearance  of  hostile 
troops,  without  any  armament  in  Lis  favor,  that  the  fickle 
people  of  Cufa  were  faithless  to  hhn.  He  held  a  parley  with 
Amar,  who  was  a  pious  and  good  man,  and  had  come  out 
very  unwillingly  against  a  descendant  of  the  prophet,  stated 
to  him  the  manner  in  which  he  had  been  deceived  by  the  peo- 
ple of  Cufa,  and  now  offered  to  return  to  Mecca.  Amar  dis- 
patched a  fleet  messenger  to  apprise  the  emir  of  this  favorable 
offer,  hoping  to  be  excused  from  using  violence  against  Hosein. 
Obeid'allah  wrote  in  reply:  "Get  between  him  and  the  Eu- 
phrates ;  cut  him  off  from  the  water  as  he  did  Othman ;  force 
him  to  acknowledge  allegiance  to  Yezid,  and  then  we  will 
treat  of  terms." 

Amar  obeyed  these  orders  with  reluctance,  and  the  little 
camp  of  Hosein  suffered  the  extremities  of  thirst.    Still  he 


438  MAUOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

could,  not  be  brought  to  acknowledge  Yezid  as  Caliph.  He 
now  offered  three  things,  either  to  go  to  Damascus  and  nego- 
tiate matters  personally  with  Yezid ;  to  return  into  Arabia ;  or 
to  repair  to  some  frontier  post  in  Khorassan  and  fight  against 
the  Turks.  These  terms  were  likewise  transmitted  by  Amar 
to  Obeid'allah. 

The  emir  was  exasperated  at  these  delays,  which  he  consid- 
ered as  intended  to  gain  time  for  tampering  with  the  public 
feeling.  His  next  letter  to  Amar  was  brief  and  explicit.  ' '  If 
Hosein  and  his  men  submit  and  take  the  oath  of  allegiance, 
treat  them  kindly ;  if  they  refuse,  slay  them — ride  over  them — 
trample  them  under  the  feet  of  thy  horses !"  This  letter  was 
sent  by  Shamar,  a  warrior  of  note,  and  of  a  fierce  spirit.  He 
had  private  instructions.  ' £  If  Amar  fail  to  do  as  I  have  or- 
dered, strike  off  his  head  and  take  command  of  his  troops." 
He  was  furnished  also  with  a  letter  of  protection,  and  pass- 
ports for  four  of  the  sons  of  Ali,  who  had  accompanied  their 
brother  Hosein. 

Amar,  on  receiving  the  letter  of  the  emir,  had  another  par- 
ley with  Hosein.  He  found  him  in  front  of  his  tent  convers- 
ing with  his  brother  Al  Abbas,  just  after  the  hour  of  evening 
prayer,  and  made  known  to  him  the  peremptory  demand  of 
the  emir  and  its  alternative.  He  also  produced  the  letter  of 
protection  and  the  passports  for  his  brothers,  but  they  refused 
to  accept  them. 

Hosein  obtained  a  truce  until  the  morning  to  consider  the 
demand  of  the  emir ;  but  his  mind  was  already  made  up.  He 
saw  that  all  hope  of  honorable  terms  was  vain,  and  he  resolved 
to  die. 

After  the  departure  of  Amar,  he  remained  seated  alone  at 
the  door  of  his  tent,  leaning  on  his  sword,  lost  in  gloomy  cogi- 
tation on  the  fate  of  the  coming  day.  A  heaviness  again  came 
over  him,  with  the  same  kind  of  portentous  fantasies  that  he 
had  already  experienced.  The  approach  of  his  favorite  sister, 
Zenaib,  roused  him.  He  regarded  her  with  mournful  signifi- 
cance. "I  have  just  seen,"  said  he,  "in  a  dream,  our  grand- 
sire  the  prophet,  and  he  said,  '  Thou  wilt  soon  be  with  me  in 
paradise.'"  _ 

The  boding  mind  of  Zenaib  interpreted  the  portent.  "Woe 
unto  us  and  our  family,"  cried  she,  smiting  her  breast;  "our 
mother  Fa  tuna  is  dead,  and  our  father  Ali  and  our  brother 
Hassan  !  Alas  for  the  desolation  of  the  past  and  the  destruc- 
tion that  is  to  cornel"     So  saving,  her  grief  overcame  her,  and 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  439 

she  fell  into  a  swoon.  Hosein  raised  her  tenderly,  sprinkled 
water  in  her  face,  and  restored  her  to  consciousness.  He  en- 
treated her  to  rely  with  confidence  on  God,  reminding  her  that 
all  the  people  of  the  earth  must  die,  and  everything  that  exists 
must  perish,  but  that  God,  who  created  them,  would  restore 
them  and  take  them  to  himself.  "  My  father,  and  my  mother, 
and  my  brother,"  said  he,  "  were  better  than  I,  yet  they  died, 
and  every  Moslem  has  had  an  example  in  the  death  of  the 
apostle  of  God."  Taking  her  then  by  the  hand,  he  led  her  into 
the  tent,  charging  her,  in  case  of  his  death,  not  to  give  way 
thus  to  immoderate  sorrow. 

He  next  addressed  his  friends  and  followers.  "  These  troops 
by  whom  we  are  surrounded,"  said  he,  "  seek  no  life  but  mine, 
and  will  be  contented  with  my  death.  Tarry  not  with  me, 
therefore,  to  your  destruction,  but  leave  me  to  my  fate." 

"  God  forbid,"  cried  Al  Abbas,  "that  we  should  survive  your 
fall ;"  and  his  words  were  echoed  by  the  rest. 

Seeing  his  little  band  thus  determined  to  share  his  desperate 
fortunes,  Hosein  prepared  to  sell  their  lives  dear,  and  make 
their  deaths  a  memorable  sacrifice.  By  his  orders  all  the  tents 
were  disposed  in  two  lines,  and  the  cords  interwoven  so  as  to 
form  barriers  on  both  sides  of  the  camp,  while  a  deep  trench 
in  the  rear  was  filled  with  wood,  to  be  set  on  fire  in  case  of 
attack.  It  was  assailable,  therefore,  only  in  front.  This  done, 
the  devoted  band,  conscious  that  the  next  day  was  to  be  their 
last,  passed  the  night  in  prayer,  while  a  troop  of  the  enemy's 
horse  kept  riding  round  to  prevent  their  escape. 

When  the  morning  dawned,  Hosein  prepared  for  battle. 
His  whole  force  amounted  only  to  twoscore  foot  soldiers  and 
two-and-thirty  horse;  but  all  were  animated  with  the  spirit 
of  martyrs.  Hosein  and  several  of  his  chief  men  washed,  an- 
ointed, and  perfumed  themselves;  "for  in  a  little  while,"  said 
they,  "  we  shall  be  with  the  black-eyed  Houris  of  paradise." 

His  steadfastness  of  soul,  however,  was  shaken  by  the  loud 
lamentations  of  his  sisters  and  daughters,  and  the  thought  ol 
the  exposed  and  desolate  state  in  which  his  death  would  leave 
them.  He  called  to  mind,  too,  the  advice  which  he  had  neg- 
lected of  Abdallah  Ibn  Abbas,  to  leave  his  women  in  safety  at 
Mecca.  "God  will  reward  thee,  Abdallah!"  exclaimed  he,  in 
the  fulness  of  his  feelings. 

A  squadron  of  thirty  horse,  headed  by  Harro,  now  wheeled 
up,  but  they  came  as  friends  and  allies.  Harro  repented  him 
of  having  given  the  first  check  to  Hosein,  and  now  came  in 


440  MAHOMET  AND  UIS  SUCCESSORS. 

atonement  to  fight  and  die  for  him.  "Alas  for  you  men  of 
Cufa!"  cried  he,  as  Amar  and  his  troops  approached;  "you 
have  invited  the  descendant  of  the  prophet  to  your  city,  and 
now  you  come  to  fight  against  him.  You  have  cut  off  from 
him  and  his  family  the  waters  of  the  Euphrates,  which  are 
free  even  to  infidels  and  the  beasts  of  the  field,  and  have  shut 
him  up  like  a  lion  in  the  toils." 

Amar  began  to  justify  himself  and  to  plead  the  orders  of  the 
emir ;  but  the  fierce  Shamar  cut  short  all  parley  by  letting  fly 
-an  arrow  into  the  camp  of  Hosein,  calling  all  to  witness  that 
he  struck  the  first  blow.  A  skirmish  ensued,  but  the  men  of 
Hosein  kept  within  their  camp,  where  they  could  only  be 
reached  by  the  archers.  From  time  to  time  there  were  singlo 
combats  in  defiance,  as  was  customary  with  the  Arabs.  In 
these  the  greatest  loss  was  on  the  side  of  the  enemy,  for 
Hosein's  men  fought  with  the  desperation  of  men  resolved  on 
death. 

Amar  now  made  a  general  assault,  but  the  camp,  being  open 
only  in  front,  was  successfully  defended.  Shamar  and  his  fol- 
lowers attempted  to  pull  down  the  tents,  but  met  with  vigorous 
resistance.  He  thrust  his  lance  through  the  tent  of  Hosein, 
and  called  for  fire  to  burn  it.  The  women  ran  out  shriek- 
ing. "The  fire  of  Jehennam  be  thy  portion!"  cried  Hosein; 
"wouldst  thou  destroy  my  family?" 

Even  the  savage  Shamar  stayed  his  hand  at  the  sight  of 
defenceless  women,  and  he  and  his  band  drew  off  with  the  loss 
of  several  of  their  number. 

Both  parties  desisted  from  the  fight  at  the  hour  of  noontide 
prayer ;  and  Hosein  put  up  the  prayer  of  Fear,  which  is  only 
used  in  time  of  extremity. 

When  the  prayers  wei^e  over  the  enemy  renewed  the  assault, 
but  chiefly  with  arrows  from  a  distance.  The  faithful  fol- 
lowers of  Hosein  were  picked  off  one  by  one,  until  he  was  left 
almost  alone;  yet  no  one  ventured  to  close  upon  him.  An 
arrow  from  a  distance  pierced  his  little  son  Abdallah,  whom 
he  had  upon  his  knee.  Hosein  caught  his  blood  in  the  hollow 
of  his  hand  and  threw  it  toward  heaven.  "Oh  God,"  ex- 
claimed he,  ' '  if  thou  withholdest  help  from  us,  at  least  take 
vengeance  on  the  wicked  for  this  innocent  blood." 

His  nephew,  a  beautiful  child  with  jewels  in  his  ears,  was 
likewise  wounded  in  his  arms.  "  Allah  will  receive  thee,  my 
child,"  said  Hosein;  "thou  wilt  soon  be  with  thy  forefathers 
in  paradise." 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSOES.  441 

At  this  moment  Zeinab  rushed  forth,  imprecating  the  ven- 
geance of  Heaven  upon  the  murderers  of  her  family.  Her 
voice  was  overpowered  by  the  oaths  and  curses  of  Shamar, 
who  closed  with  his  men  upon  Hosein.  The  latter  fought 
desperately,  and  laid  many  dead  around  him,  but  his  strength 
was  failing  him ;  it  became  a  massacre  rather  than  a  fight ;  he 
sank  to  the  earth,  and  was  stripped  ere  life  was  extinct. 
Thirty  wounds  were  counted  in  his  body,  and  four-and-thirty 
bruises.  His  head  was  then  cut  off  to  be  sent  to  Obeid'allah, 
and  Shamar,  with  his  troops,  rode  forward  and  backward  over 
the  body,  as  he  had  been  ordered,  until  it  was  trampled  into 
the  earth. 

Seventy-two  followers  of  Hosein  were  slain  in  this  massacre, 
seventeen  of  whom  were  descendants  from  Fatima.  Eighty- 
eight  of  the  enemy  were  killed,  and  a  great  number  wounded. 
All  the  arms  and  furniture  of  Hosein  and  his  family  were 
taken  as  lawful  spoils,  although  against  the  command  of 
Amar. 

Shamar  dispatched  one  of  his  troopers  to  bear  the  head  of 
Hosein  to  the  emir  Obeid'allah.  He  rode  with  all  speed,  but 
arrived  at  Cufa  after  the  gates  of  the  castle  were  closed. 
Taking  the  gory  trophy  to  his  own  house  until  morning,  he 
showed  it  with  triumph  to  his  wife ;  but  she  shrank  from  him 
with  horror,  as  one  guilty  of  the  greatest  outrage  to  the  family 
of  the  prophet,  and  from  that  time  forward  renounced  all  inter- 
course with  him. 

When  the  head  was  presented  to  Obeid'allah,  he  smote  it 
on  the  mouth  with  his  staff.  A  venerable  Arab  present  was 
shocked  at  his  impiety.  "  By  Allah!"  exclaimed  he,  "I  have 
seen  those  lips  pressed  by  the  sacred  lips  of  the  prophet  1" 

As  Obeid'allah  went  forth  from  the  citadel,  he  beheld  several 
women,  meanly  attired  and  seated  disconsolately  on  the 
ground  at  the  threshold.  He  had  to  demand  three  times  who 
they  were,  before  he  was  told  that  it  was  Zeinab,  sister  of 
Hosein,  and  her  maidens.  "Allah  be  praised,"  cried  he,  with 
ungenerous  exultation,  "who  has  brought  this  proud  woman 
to  shame,  and  wrought  death  upon  her  family."  "Allah  be 
praised,"  retorted  Zeinab,  haughtily,  "  who  hath  glorified  our 
family  by  his  holy  apostle  Mahomet.  As  to  my  kindred,  death 
was  decreed  to  them,  and  they  have  gone  to  their  resting-place; 
but  God  will  bring  you  and  them  together,  and  will  judge  be- 
tween you." 
The  wrath  of  the  emir  was  inflamed  by  this  reply,  and  his 


442  MAHOMET  AND  UIS  SUCCESSORS. 

friends,  fearful  he  might  be  provoked  to  an  act  of  violence, 
reminded  him  that  she  was  a  woman  and  unworthy  of  his 
anger. 

"Enough,"  cried  he;  "let  her  revile;  Allah  has  given  my 
soul  full  satisfaction  in  the  death  of  her  brother,  and  the  ruin 
of  her  rebellious  race." 

"True!"  replied  Zeinab,  "you  have  indeed  destroyed  our 
men,  and  cut  us  up  root  and  branch.  If  that  be  any  satisfac- 
tion to  your  soul,  you  have  it." 

The  emir  looked  at  her  with  surprise.  "  Thou  art,  indeed," 
said  he,  ' '  a  worthy  descendant  of  Ali,  who  was  a  poet  and  a 
man  of  courage." 

"  Courage,"  replied  Zeinab,  "is  not  a  woman's  attribute;  but 
what  my  heart  dictates  my  tongue  shall  utter." 

The  emir  cast  his  eyes  on  Ali,  the  son  of  Hosein,  a  youth 
just  approaching  manhood,  and  ordered  him  to  be  beheaded. 
The  proud  heart  of  Zeinab  now  gave  way.  Bursting  into  tears 
she  flung  her  arms  round  her  nephew.  ' '  Hast  thou  not  drunk 
deep  enough  of  the  blood  of  our  family?"  cried  she  to  Obeid'- 
allah;  "  and  dost  thou  thirst  for  the  blood  of  this  youth?  Take 
mine  too  with  it,  and  let  me  die  with  him. 

The  emir  gazed  on  her  again,  and  with  greater  astonish- 
ment; ho  mused  for  awhile,  debating  with  himself,  for  he  was 
disposed  to  slay  the  lad ;  but  was  moved  by  the  tenderness  of 
Zeinab.  At  length  his  better  feelings  prevailed,  and  the  life  of 
Ali  was  spared. 

The  head  of  Hosein  was  transmitted  to  the  Caliph  Yezid,  at 
Damascus,  in  charge  of  the  savage-hearted  Shamar ;  and  with 
it  were  sent  Zeinab  and  her  women,  and  the  youth  Ali.  The 
latter  had  a  chain  round  his  neck,  but  the  youth  carried  him- 
self proudly,  and  woidd  never  vouchsafe  a  word  to  his  con- 
ductors. 

When  Shamar  presented  the  head  with  the  greetings  of 
Obeid'allah,  the  Caliph  shed  tears,  for  he  recalled  the  dying 
counsel  of  his  father  with  respect  to  the  son  of  Ali.  "Oh 
Hosein!"  ejaculated  he,  "hadst  thou  fallen  into  my  hands 
thou  wouldst  not  have  been  slain."  Then  giving  vent  to  his 
indignation  against  the  absent  Oberd'allah,  "The  curse  of 
God,"  exclaimed  he,  "be  upon  the  son  of  Somyah."* 

He  had  been  urged  by  one  of  his  courtiers  to  kill  Ali,  and 


*  A  sneer  at  Obeid'allah's  illegitimate  descent  from  Somyah,  the  wife  of  a  Greek 
slave. 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  443 

extinguish  the  whole  generation  of  Hosein,  but  milder  coun- 
sels prevailed.  When  the  women  and  children  were  brought 
before  him,  in  presence  of  the  Syrian  nobility,  he  was  shocked 
at  their  mean  attire,  and  again  uttered  a  malediction  on  Obeid'- 
allah.  In  conversing  with  Zeinab,  he  spoke  with  disparage- 
ment of  her  father  Ah  and  her  brother  Hosein,  but  the  proud 
heart  of  this  intrepid  woman  again  rose  to  her  lips,  and  she  re- 
plied with  a  noble  scorn  and  just  invective  that  shamed  him 
to  silence. 

Yezid  now  had  Zeinab  and  the  other  females  of  the  family  of 
Hosein  treated  with  proper  respect ;  baths  were  provided  for 
them,  and  apparel  suited  to  their  rank ;  they  were  entertained 
in  his  palace,  and  the  widowed  wives  of  his  father  Moawyah 
came  and  kept  them  company,  and  joined  with  them  in 
mourning  for  Hosein.  Yezid  acted  also  with  great  kindness 
toward  Ali  and  Amru,  the  sons  of  Hosein,  taking  them  with 
him  in  his  walks.  Amru  was  as  yet  a  mere  child.  Yezid 
asked  him  one  day  jestingly,  "Wilt  thou  fight  with  my  son 
Khaled?"  The  urchin's  eye  flashed  fire.  "  Give  him  a  knife," 
cried  he,  "  and  give  me  one!"  "  Beware  of  this  child,"  said  a 
crafty  old  courtier  who  stood  by,  and  who  was  an  enemy  to 
the  house  of  Ali.  "Beware  of  this  child ;  depend  upon  it,  one 
serpent  is  the  parent  of  another." 

After  a  time  when  the  family  of  Hosein  wished  to  depart  for 
Medma,  Yezid  furnished  them  abundantly  with  every  com- 
fort for  the  journey,  and  a  safe  convoy  under  a  careful  officer, 
who  treated  them  with  all  due  deference.  When  their  journey 
was  accomplished,  Zeinab  and  Fatima,  the  young  daughter  of 
Hosein,  would  have  presented  their  conductor  with  some  of 
their  jewels,  but  the  worthy  Syrian  declined  their  offer. 
"Had  I  acted  for  reward,"  said  he,  "less  than  these  jewels 
would  have  sufficed ;  but  what  I  have  done  was  for  the  love 
of  God,  and  for  the  sake  of  your  relationship  to  the  prophet." 

The  Persians  hold  the  memory  of  Hosein  in  great  venera- 
tion, entitling  him  Shahed  or  the  Martyr,  and  Seyejed  or 
Lord ;  and  he  and  his  lineal  descendants  for  nine  generations 
are  enrolled  among  the  twelve  Imams  or  Pontiffs  of  the  Per- 
sian creed.  The  anniversary  of  his  martyrdom  is  called  Eus 
Hosein  (the  day  of  Hosein),  and  is  kept  with  great  solemnity. 
A  splendid  monument  was  erected  in  after  years  on  the  spot 
where  he  fell,  and  was  called  in  Arabic  Meshed  Hosein,  The 
Sepulchre  of  Hosein.  The  Shyites,  or  sectaries  of  Ali,  relate 
divers  prodigies  as  having  signalized  his  martyrdom.     The 


444  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

sun  withdrew  Ms  light,  the  stars  twinkled  at  noonday  and 
clashed  against  each  other,  and  the  clouds  rained  showers  of 
blood.  A  supernatural  light  beamed  from  the  head  of  the 
martyr,  and  a  flock  of  white  birds  hovered  around  it.  These 
miracles,  however,  are  all  stoutly  denied  by  the  sect  of  Mos- 
lems called  Sonnites,  who  hold  Ah  and  his  race  in  abomination. 


CHAPTER  XLVIL 


INSURRECTION  OF  ABDALLAH    IBN    ZOBEIR — MEDINA    TAKEN    AND 
SACKED — MECCA  BESIEGED — DEATH   OF  YEZID. 

The  death  of  Hosein  had  removed  one  formidable  rival  of 
Yezid,  but  gave  strength  to  the  claims  of  another,  who  was 
scarcely  less  popular.  This  was  Abdallah,  the  son  of  Zobeir; 
honored  for  his  devotion  to  the  faith,  beloved  for  the  amenity 
of  his  manners,  and  of  such  adroit  policy  that  he  soon  man- 
aged to  be  proclaimed  Caliph  by  the  partisans  of  the  house  of 
Haschem,  and  a  large  portion  of  the  people  of  Medina  and 
Mecca.  The  martyrdom,  as  he  termed  it,  of  Hosein  fur- 
nished him  a  theme  for  public  harangues,  with  which,  after 
his  inauguration,  he  sought  to  sway  the  popular  feelings.  He 
called  to  mind  the  virtues  of  that  grandson  of  the  prophet,  Ms 
pious  watchings,  fastings,  aud  prayers ;  the  perfidy  of  the  peo- 
ple of  Cufa,  to  which  he  had  fallen  a  victim;  the  lofty  heroism 
of  his  latter  moments,  and  the  savage  atrocities  wMch  had  ac- 
companied his  murder.  The  public  mmd  was  heated  by  these 
speeches ;  the  enthusiasm  awakened  for  the  memory  of  Hosein 
was  extended  to  Ms  politic  eulogist.  An  Egyptian  soothsayer, 
famed  for  skill  in  divination,  and  who  had  studied  the  prophet 
Darnel,  declared  that  Abdallah  would  live  and  die  a  king ;  and 
this  operated  powerfully  in  his  favor  among  the  superstitious 
Arabs,  so  that  his  party  rapidly  increased  in  numbers. 

The  Caliph  Yezid,  although  almost  all  the  provinces  of  the 
empire  were  still  in  allegiance  to  him,  was  alarmed  at  the 
movements  of  tMs  new  rival.  He  affected,  however,  to  re- 
gard him  with  contempt,  and  sent  a  silver  collar  to  Merwan 
Ibn  Hakem,  then  governor  of  Medina,  directing  him  to  put  it 
round  the  neck  of  the  "mock  Caliph,"  should  he  persist  hi  Ms 
folly,  and  send  him  in  chains  to  Damascus.     Merwan,  how- 


MAHOMET  AND  JUS  SUCCESSORS.  445 

ever,  who  was  of  a  wily  character  himself,  and  aware  of  the 
craft  and  courage  of  Abdallah,  and  his  growing  popularity  in 
Medina,  evaded  the  execution  of  the  order. 

Yezid  had  no  better  success  in  his  endeavors  to  crush  the 
rising  power  of  Abdallah  at  Mecca.  In  vain  he  repeatedly 
changed  his  governors  of  that  city ;  each  in  his  turn  was  out- 
witted by  the  superior  sagacity  of  Abdallah,  or  overawed  by 
tbe  turbulent  discontent  of  the  people. 

Various  negotiations  took  place  between  Yezid  and  these 
disaffected  cities,  and  dispatches  were  sent  from  the  latter  to 
Damascus ;  but  these  only  rendered  the  schism  in  the  Caliphat 
more  threatening.  The  deputies  brought  back  accounts  of  the 
dissolute  life  of  Yezid,  which  shocked  the  pious  and  abstemious 
Arabs  of  the  sacred  cities.  They  represented  him  as  destitute 
of  religion  and  morality ;  neglectful  of  the  hours  of  worship ;  a 
gross  sensualist  addicted  to  wine  and  banqueting ;  an  effemi- 
nate voluptuary,  imssing  his  time  amid  singing  and  dancing 
women,  listening  to  music  and  loose  minstrelsy,  and  sur- 
rounded by  dogs  and  eunuchs. 

The  contempt  and  loathing  caused  by  their  representations 
were  fomented  by  the  partisans  of  Abdallah  Ibn  Zobeir,  and 
extended  to  the  whole  house  of  Ommiah,  of  which  Yezid  was  a 
member.  Open  rebellion  at  length  broke  out  in  a  manner  char- 
acteristic of  the  At-abs.  During  an  assemblage  in  the  mosque 
of  Medina,  one  of  the  conspirators  threw  Ms  turban  on  the 
ground,  exclaiming,  "  I  cast  off  Yezid  as  I  cast  off  this  turban." 
Another  seconded  him  with  the  exclamation,  ' '  I  cast  off  Yezid 
as  I  cast  off  this  shoe."  Heaps  of  shoes  and  turbans  soon 
showed  that  the  feeling  was  unanimous. 

The  next  move  was  to  banish  the  house  of  Ommiah  and  all 
its  dependents ;  but  these,  to  the  number  of  a  thousand,  took 
refuge  in  the  palace  of  Merwan  Ibn  Hakem,  the  governor, 
who  was  of  that  race.  Here  they  were  closely  besieged  and 
sent  off  to  Yezid,  imploring  instant  succor. 

It  was  with  difficulty  Yezid  could  prevail  upon  any  of  his 
generals  to  engage  in  so  unpopular  a  cause.  Meslem  Ibn 
Okbah,  a  stout-hearted  but  infirm  old  general,  at  length  un- 
dertook it ;  but  observed,  with  contempt,  that  a  thousand  men 
who  suffered  themselves  to  be  cooped  up  like  fowls,  without 
fighting,  scarce  deserved  assistance. 

When  the  troops  were  about  to  depart,  Yezid  rode  about 
among  them,  his  scimetar  by  his  side,  and  an  Arab  bow  across 
his  shoulder,  calling  upon  them  to  show  their  loyalty  and  cour- 


446  MAHOMET  AXD  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

age.  His  instructions  to  Meslem  were  to  summon  the  city  of 
Medina,  three  days  in  succession,  before  he  made  any  assault ; 
if  it  refused  to  surrender,  he  should,  after  taking  it,  give  it 
up  to  three  days'  pillage.  He  charged  him,  however,  to  be 
careful  of  the  safety  of  the  youth  Ali,  son  of  Hosein,  who  was 
in  the  city,  but  had  taken  no  part  in  the  rebellion. 

Meslem  departed  at  the  head  of  twelve  thousand  horse  and 
five  thousand  foot.  When  he  arrived  before  Medina  he  found 
a  huge  trench  digged  round  the  city,  and  great  preparations 
made  for  defence.  On  three  successive  days  he  summoned  it 
to  surrender,  and  on  each  day  received  a  refusal.  On  the 
fourth  day  he  attacked  it  by  storm,  making  his  assault  on  the 
east  side,  that  the  besieged  might  be  blinded  by  the  rising  sun. 
The  city  held  out  until  most  of  its  prime  leaders  were  slain ;  it 
would  then  have  capitulated,  but  the  stern  old  general  com- 
pelled an  unconditional  surrender. 

Meslem  entered  the  city  sword  in  hand,  and  sent  instantly 
for  Ali,  the  youthful  son  of  Hosein,  whom  he  placed  on  his 
own  camel,  and  furnished  with  a  trusty  guard,  His  next  care 
was  to  release  the  thousand  men  of  the  house  of  Ommiah  from 
confinement,  lest  they  should  be  involved  in  the  sacking  of  the 
city ;  this  done,  he  abandoned  the  place  for  three  days  to  his 
soldiery,  and  a  scene  of  slaughter,  violence,  and  rapine  ensued, 
too  horrible  to  be  detailed.  Those  of  the  inhabitants  who  sur- 
vived the  massacre  were  compelled  to  submit  as  slaves  and 
vassals  of  Yezid.  The  rigid  severity  of  old  Meslem,  which  far 
surpassed  his  orders,  gained  him  the  appellation  of  Musreph, 
or  The  Extortionate.  His  memory  has  ever  been  held  in 
odium  by  the  Moslems,  for  the  outrages  which  he  permitted  in 
this  sacred  city.  This  capture  of  Medina  took  place  at  night, 
in  the  sixty-third  year  of  the  Hegira,  and  the  year  GS2  of  the 
Christian  era. 

The  old  general  now  marched  on  to  wreak  the  same  fate 
upon  Mecca ;  but  his  fires  were  burnt  out ;  he  died  on  the  march 
of  fatigue,  infirmity,  and  old  age,  and  the  command  devolved 
on  a  Syrian  general  named  Hozein  Ibn  Thamir.  The  latter  led 
his  force  up  to  the  walls  of  Mecca,  where  Abdallah  Ibn  Zobeir 
commanded  in  person.  For  the  space  of  forty  days  he  be- 
sieged the  city,  battering  the  walls  with  engines  brought  from 
Syria.  In  the  course  of  the  siege  a  part  of  the  Caaba  was 
beaten  down  and  the  rest  burnt.  Some  ascribe  the  fire  to  the 
engines  of  the  besiegers ;  others  affirm  that  Abdallah,  hearing 
a  shouting  in  the  night,  caused  a  flaming  brand  to  be  elevated 


MAHOMET  AND  I11S  SUCCESSORS.  447 

on  a  lance  to  discover  the  cause,  and  that  the  fire  communi- 
cated to  the  veil  which  covered  the  edifice. 

Mecca  was  reduced  to  extremity,  and  the  inhabitants  began 
to  dread  the  fate  of  Medina,  when  a  swift  messenger  brougiit 
to  Abdallah  Ibn  Zobeir  the  joyful  tidings  of  the  death  of  Yezid. 
He  immediately  mounted  the  walls  and  demanded  of  the  be- 
siegers why  they  continued  to  fight,  seeing  that  then'  master 
Yezid  was  no  more.  They  regarded  his  words  as  a  mere  sub- 
terfuge, and  continued  the  attack  with  increased  vigor.  The 
intelligence,  however,  was  speedily  confirmed. 

Hozein  now  held  a  conference  with  Abdallah ;  he  expressed 
an  ardent  desire  to  put  an  end  to  all  further  effusion  of  kindred 
blood,  and  proffered  the  allegiance  of  himself  and  his  army,  in 
which  were  some  of  the  leading  men  of  Syria.  Abdallah,  for 
once,  was  too  cautious  for  his  own  good.  He  shrank  from 
trusting  himself  with  Hozein  and  his  army;  he  permitted 
them,  however,  at  their  earnest  request,  to  walk  in  religious 
procession  round  the  ruins  of  the  Caaba,  of  course  without 
arms ;  after  which  Hozein  and  his  host  departed  on  the  march 
homeward;  and  the  late  beleaguered  family  of  Onnniah  ac- 
companied them  to  Syria. 

The  death  of  the  Caliph  Yezid  took  place  at  Hawwarin,  in 
Syria,  in  the  sixty-fourth  year  of  the  Hegira,  a.d.  683,  in  the 
thirty -ninth  year  of  his  age,  after  a  reign  of  three  years  and 
six  months.  He  was  cut  down  in  the  flower  of  his  days,  say 
the  Moslem  writers,  in  consequence  of  his  impiety,  in  ordering 
the  sacking  of  Medina,  tbe  burial-place  of  the  prophet;  for  the 
latter  had  predicted,  "Whoever  injureth  Medina,  shall  melt 
away  even  as  salt  melteth  in  water."  The  Persian  writers 
also,  sectarians  of  Ali,  hold  the  memory  of  Yezid  in  abhor- 
rence, charging  him  with  the  deaths  of  Hassan  and  Hosein, 
and  accompany  his  name  with  the  imprecation,  "May  he  be 
accursed  of  God!" 


CHAPTER  XLVIII. 

INAUGURATION  OF  MOAWYAH  II.,  EIGHTH  CALIPH — HIS  ABDICA- 
TION AND  DEATH — MERWAN  IBN  HAKEM  AND  ABDALLAH  IBN 
ZOBEIR,    RIVAL  CALIPHS — CIVIL  WARS  IN  SYRIA. 

On  the  death  of  Yezid,  his  son.  Moawyah  II.,  was  proclaimed 
at  Damascus,  being  the  third  Caliph  of  the  house  of  Ommiah. 


448  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

He  was  in  the  twenty-first  year  of  his  age,  feeble  in  mind  and 
body,  and  swayed  in  his  opinions  and  actions  by  his  favorite 
teacher,  Omar  Almeksus,  of  the  sect  of  the  Kadarii,  who  main- 
tain the  free-will  of  men,  and  that  a  contrary  opinion  would 
make  God  the  author  of  sin. 

Moawyah  assumed  the  supreme  authority  with  extreme 
reluctance,  and  felt  his  incompetency  to  its  duties;  for  the 
state  of  his  health  obliged  him  to  shun  daylight  and  keep  in 
darkened  rooms ;  whence  the  Arabs,  in  their  propensity  to  by- 
names, gave  him  the  derisive  appellation  of  Abuleilah, 
"Father  of  the  Night." 

He  abdicated  afc  the  end  of  six  months,  alleging  his  incom- 
petency. The  Ommiades  were  indignant  at  his  conduct ;  they 
attributed  it,  and  probably  with  reason,  to  the  counsels  of  the 
sage  Omar  Almeksus,  on  whom  they  are  said  to  have  wreaked 
their  rage  by  burying  him  alive. 

Moawyah  refused  to  nominate  a  successor.  His  grandfather 
Moawyah,  he  said,  had  wrested  the  sceptre  from  the  hands  of 
a  better  man ;  his  father  Yezid  had  not  merited  so  great  a 
trust,  and  he  himself  being  unworthy  and  unfit  to  wield  it, 
was  equally  unworthy  to  appoint  a  successor ;  he  left  the  elec- 
tion, therefore,  to  the  chiefs  of  the  people.  In  all  which  he 
probably  spake  according  to  the  dictates  of  the  sage  Omar 
Almeksus. 

As  soon  as  he  had  thrown  off  the  cares  of  government  he 
shut  himself  up  in  the  twilight  gloom  of  his  chamber,  whence 
he  never  stirred  until  his  death,  which  happened  soon  after; 
caused,  some  say,  by  the  plague,  others  by  poison.  His  own 
diseased  frame  and  morbid  temperament,  however,  account 
sufficiently  for  his  dissolution. 

The  election  of  a  Caliph  again  distracted  the  Moslem  empire. 
The  leading  men  at  Damascus  determined  upon  Merwan  Ibn 
Hakem,  of  the  family  of  Ommiah,  and  once  the  secretary  of 
state  of  Othman,  who  had  so  craftily  managed  the  correspond- 
ence of  that  unfortunate  Caliph.  He  was  now  well  stricken 
in  years ;  tall  and  meagre,  with  a  pale  face  and  yellow  beard, 
doubtless  tinged  according  to  oriental  usage.  Those  who 
elected  him  took  care  to  stipulate  that  he  should  not  nominate 
any  of  his  posterity  as  his  successor ;  but  should  be  succeeded 
by  Khaled,  the  son  of  Yezid,  as  yet  a  minor.  Merwan,  in  his 
eagerness  for  power,  pledged  himself  without  hesitation;  how 
faithfully  he  redeemed  his  pledge  will  be  seen  hereafter. 

While  this  election  was  held  at  Damascus,  Abdallah  Ibu 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  449 

Zobeir  was  acknowledged  as  Caliph  in  Mecca,  Medina.,  and 
throughout  Arabia,  as  also  in  Khorassan,  in  Babylonia,  and  in 
Egypt. 

Another  candidate  for  the  supreme  power  unexpectedly  arose 
in  Obeid'allah  Ibn  Ziyad,  the  emir  of  Bassora,  the  same  wbo 
had  caused  the  massacre  of  Hosein.    He  harangued  an  assem- 
blage of  the  people  of  Bassora  on  the  state  of  the  contending 
factions  in  Syria  and  Arabia;   the  importance  of  their  own 
portion  of  the  empire,  so  capable  of  sustaining  itself  in  inde- 
pendence, and  the  policy  of  appointing  some  able  person  as  a 
protector  to  watch  over  the  public  weal  until  these  dissensions 
should  cease,  and  a  Caliph  be  unanimously  appointed.     The 
assembly  was  convinced  by  his  reasoning,  and  urged  him  to 
accept  the  appointment.    He  declined  it  repeatedly,  with  poli- 
tic grace,  but  was  at  length  prevailed  upon ;  and  the  leaders 
gave  him  their  hands,  promising  allegiance  to  him  as  a  provi- 
sional chief,  until  a  Caliph  should  be  regularly  elected.     His 
authority,  however,  was  but  of  short  duration.     The  people  of 
Cufa,  who  had  experienced  his  tyranny  as  governor,  rejected 
with  scorn  his  election  as  protector;  their  example  reacted 
upon  the  fickle  Bassorians,  who  suddenly  revoked  their  late 
act  of  allegiance,  rose  in  tumultuous  opposition  to  the  man 
they  had  so  recently  honored,  and  Obeid'allah  was  fain  to  dis- 
guise himself  in  female  attire,  and  take  refuge  in  the  house  of 
an  adherent.    During  his  sway,  however,  he  had  secured  an 
immense  amount  of  gold  from  the  public  treasury.     This  he 
now  shared  among  his  partisans,  and  distributed  by  handfuls 
among  the  multitude ;  but  though  he  squandered  in  this  way 
above  two  hundred  thousand  pieces  of  gold  upon  the  populace, 
and  raised  a  few  transient  tumults  in  his  favor,  he  was  ulti- 
mately obliged  to  fly  for  his  life,  and  his  effects  were  pillaged 
by  the  rabble.     So  fared  it  with  the  temporary  tyrant  who 
smote  the  gory  head  of  the  virtuous  Hosein. 

He  fled  by  night  at  the  head  of  only  a  hundred  men ;  after  a 
time  weariness  compelled  him  to  exchange  the  camel  on  which 
he  was  mounted  for  an  ass.  In  this  humble  plight,  with 
drooping  head,  and  legs  dangling  to  the  ground,  journeyed  the 
imperious  Obeid'allah,  who,  but  the  day  before,  was  governor 
of  Babylonia,  and  aspired  to  the  throne  of  the  Caliphs.  One 
of  his  attendants,  noticing  his  dejection,  and  hearing  him  mut- 
ter to  himself,  supposed  him  smitten  with  contrition,  and 
upbraiding  himself  with  having  incurred  these  calamities,  as  a 
judgment  for  the  death  of  Hosein :  he  ventured  to  suggest  his 


450  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

thoughts  and  to  offer  consolation ;  hut  Obeid'allah  quickly  let 
him  know  that  his  only  repentance  and  self-reproach  were  for 
not  having  attacked  the  faithless  Bassorians,  and  struck  off 
their  heads  at  the  very  outbreak  of  their  revolt.  Obeid'allah 
effected  his  escape  into  Syria;  and  arrived  at  Damascus  in 
time  to  take  an  active  part  in  the  election  of  Merwan  to  the 
Caliphat ;  in  the  mean  time  Bassora  declared  its  allegiance  to 
Ibn  Abdallah  Zobeir. 

The  claims  of  Merwan  to  the  Caliphat  were  acknowledged  in 
Syria  alone,  but  Syria,  if  undivided,  was  an  empire  in  itself. 
It  was  divided,  however.  A  powerful  faction,  headed  by  De- 
hac  Ibn  Kais,  late  governor  of  Cuf a,  disputed  the  pretensions 
of  Merwan,  and  declared  for  Abdallah.  They  appeared  in 
arms  in  the  plain  near  Damascus.  Merwan  took  the  field 
against  them  in  person;  a  great  and  sanguinary  battle  took 
place;  Dehac  and  fourscore  of  the  flower  of  Syrian  nobility 
were  slain,  and  an  immense  number  of  their  adherents.  Vic- 
tory declared  for  Merwan.  He  called  off  his  soldiers  from  the 
pursuit,  reminding  them  that  the  fugitives  were  their  brethren. 

When  the  head  of  Dehac  was  brought  to  him  he  turned  from 
it  with  sorrow.  ' '  Alas !"  exclaimed  he,  ' '  that  an  old  and  worn- 
out  man  like  myself  should  occasion  the  young  and  vigorous 
to  be  cut  to  pieces !" 

His  troops  hailed  him  as  Caliph  beyond  all  dispute,  and  bore 
him  back  in  triumph  to  Damascus.  He  took  up  his  abode  in 
the  palace  of  his  predecessors,  Moawyah  and  Yezid ;  but  now 
came  a  harder  part  of  his  task.  It  had  been  stipulated  that  at 
his  death  Khaled  the  son  of  Yezid  should  be  his  successor ;  it 
was  now  urged  that  he  should  marry  the  widow  of  Yezid,  the 
mother  of  the  youth,  and  thus  make  himself  his  legitimate 
guardian. 

The  aged  Merwan  would  fain  have  evaded  this  condition, 
but  it  was  forced  upon  him  as  a  measure  of  policy,  and  he  com- . 
plied ;  no  sooner,  however,  was  the  marriage  solemnized  than 
he  left  his  capital  and  his  bride,  and  set  off  with  an  army  for 
Egypt,  to  put  down  the  growing  ascendency  of  Abdallah  in  that 
region.  He  sent  in  advance  Amru  Ibn  Saad,  who  acted  with 
such  promptness  and  vigor  that  while  the  Caliph  was  yet  on 
the  march  he  received  tidings  that  the  lieutenant  of  Abdallah 
had  been  driven  from  the  province,  and  the  Egyptians  brought 
under  subjection :  whereupon  Merwan  turned  his  face  again 
toward  Damascus. 

Intelligence  now  overtook  him  that  an  army  under  Musab, 


MAUOMET  ANT)  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  451 

brother  of  Abdallah,  was  advancing  upon  Egypt.  The  old 
Caliph  again  faced  about,  and  resumed  his  march  in  that 
direction,  but  again  was  anticipated  by  Amru,  who  routed 
Musab  in  a  pitched  battle,  and  completely  established  the  sway 
of  Merwan  over  Egypt.  The  Caliph  now  appointed  his  son 
AJxl'alaziz  to  the  government  of  that  important  country,  and 
once  more  returned  to  Damascus,  whither  he  was  soon  followed 
by  the  victorious  Amru. 


CHAPTER  XLIX. 

STATE  OF  AFFAIRS  IN  KHORASSAN— CONSPIRACY  AT  CUFA— FAC- 
TION OF  THE  PENITENTS;  THEIR  FORTUNES— DEATH  OF  THE 
CALIPH  MERWAN. 

In  the  present  divided  state  of  the  Moslem  empire,  the  people 
of  Khorassan  remained  neuter,  refusing  to  acknowledge  either 
Caliph.  They  appointed  Salem,  the  son  of  Ziyad,  to  act  as 
regent,  until  the  unity  of  the  Moslem  government  should  be 
restored.  He  continued  for  a  length  of  time  in  this  station, 
maintaining  the  peace  of  the  province,  and  winning  the  hearts 
of  the  inhabitants  by  his  justice,  equity,  and  moderation. 

About  this  time  there  was  a  sudden  awakening  among  the 
sect  of  Ali,  in  Babylonia.  The  people  of  Cufa,  proverbially 
fickle  and  faithless,  were  seized  with  tardy  remorse  for  the 
fate  of  Hosein,  of  which  they  were  conscious  of  being  the 
cause.  Those  who  had  not  personally  assisted  in  his  martyr- 
dom formed  an  association  to  avenge  his  death.  Above  a 
hundred  of  the  chief  men  of  the  country  joined  them;  they 
took  the  name  of  The  Penitents,  to  express  their  contrition  for 
having  been  instrumental  in  the  death  of  the  martyr;  and  they 
chose  for  their  leader  one  of  the  veteran  companions  of  the 
prophet,  the  venerable  Solyman  Ibn  Sorad,  who  devoted  his 
gray  hairs  to  this  pious  vengeance. 

The  awakening  spread  far  and  wide ;  in  a  little  while  upward 
of  sixteen  thousand  names  were  enrolled ;  a  general  appeal  to 
arms  was  anticipated  throughout  the  country,  and  the  veteran 
Solyman  called  upon  all  true  Moslems  disposed  to  prosecute 
this  "holy  war,"  to  assemble  at  a  place  called  Nochaila.  Be- 
fore the  appointed  time,  however,  the  temporary  remorse  of 
the  people  of  Cufa  had  subsided;  the  enthusiasm  for  the  mem- 


452  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

ory  of  Hosein  had  cooled  throughout  the  province ;  intriguing 
meddlers,  jealous  of  the  appointment  of  Solyman,  had  been  at 
work,  and  when  the  veteran  came  to  the  place  of  assemblage 
he  found  but  an  inconsiderable  number  prepared  for  action. 

He  now  dispatched  two  horsemen  to  Cufa,  who  arrived 
there  at  the  hour  of  the  last  evening  prayer,  galloped  through 
the  streets  to  the  great  mosque,  rousing  the  Penitents  with  the 
war  cry  of  "Vengeance  for  Hosein."  The  call  was  not  lost  on 
the  real  enthusiasts ;  a  kind  of  madness  seized  upon  many  of 
the  people,  who  thronged  after  the  couriers,  echoing  the  cry  of 
vengeance.  The  cry  penetrated  into  the  depths  of  the  houses. 
One  man  tore  himself  from  the  arms  of  a  beautiful  and  tenderly 
beloved  wife,  and  began  to  arm  for  battle.  She  asked  him  if 
he  were  mad.  "No!"  cried  he,  "but  I  hear  the  summons  of 
the  herald  of  God,  and  I  fly  to  avenge  the  death  of  Hosein." 
"  And  in  whose  protection  do  you  leave  our  child?"  "  I  com- 
mend him  and  thee  to  the  protection  of  Allah !"  So  saying,  he 
departed. 

Another  called  for  a  lance  and  steed ;  told  his  daughter  that  he 
fled  from  crime  to  penitence ;  took  a  hurried  leave  of  his  family 
and  galloped  to  the  camp  of  Solyman. 

Still,  when  the  army  of  Penitents  was  mustered  on  the 
following  day  it  did  not  exceed  four  thousand.  Solyman  flat- 
tered himself,  however,  that  reinforcements,  promised  him 
from  various  quarters,  would  join  him  when  on  the  march.  He 
harangued  his  scanty  host,  roused  their  ardor,  and  marched 
them  to  the  place  of  Hosein's  murder,  where  they  passed  a  day 
and  night  in  prayer  and  lamentation.  They  then  resumed 
their  march.  Their  intention  was  to  depose  both  Caliphs, 
Merwan  and  Abdallah,  to  overthrow  the  family  of  Ommiab, 
and  restore  the  throne  to  the  house  of  Ali ;  but  their  first  object 
was  vengeance  on  Obeid'allah,  the  son  of  Ziyad,  to  whom  they 
chiefly  ascribed  the  murder  of  Hosein.  The  aged  Solyman  led 
his  little  army  of  enthusiasts  through  Syria,  continually  dis- 
appointed of  recruits,  but  unabated  in  their  expectation  of  aid 
from  Heaven,  until  they  were  encountered  by  Obeid'allah  with 
an  army  of  twenty  thousand  horsemen,  and  cut  in  pieces. 

In  the  midst  of  these  internal  feuds  and  dissensions,  a  spark 
of  the  old  Saracen  spirit  was  aroused  by  the  news  of  disastrous 
reverses  in  Northern  Africa.  We  have  recorded  in  a  former 
chapter  the  heroic  but  disastrous  end  of  Acbah  on  the  plains 
of  Numidia,  where  he  and  his  little  army  were  massacred  by  a 
Berber  hefct,  led  on  by  Aben  Cahina.    That  Moorish  chieftain, 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  453 

while  flushed  with  victory,  had  heen  defeated  by  Zohair  before 
the  walls  of  Caerwan,  and  the  spirits  of  the  Moslems  had  once 
more  revived;  especially  on  the  arrival  of  reinforcements  sen  I 
by  Abd'alaziz  from  Egypt.  A  sad  reverse,  however,  again 
took  place.  A  large  force  of  imperialists,  veteran  and  wch 
armed  soldiers  from  Constantinople,  were  landed  on  the  African 
coast  to  take  advantage  of  the  domestic  troubles  of  the  Mos- 
lems, and  drive  them  from  their  African  possessions.  Being 
joined  by  the  light  troops  of  Barbary,  they  attacked  Zobeir  hi 
open  field.  He  fought  long  and  desperately,  but  being  deserted 
by  the  Egyptian  reinforcements,  and  overpowered  by  numbers, 
was  compelled  to  retreat  to  Barca,  while  the  conquering  foe 
marched  on  to  Caerwan,  captured  that  city,  and  made  them- 
selves masters  of  the  surrounding  country. 

It  was  the  tidings  of  this  disastrous  reverse,  and  of  the  loss 
of  the  great  outpost  of  Moslem  conquest  in  Northern  Africa, 
that  roused  the  Saracen  spirit  from  its  domestic  feuds.  Abd'al- 
malec, the  eldest  son  of  the  Caliph  Merwan,  who  had  already 
served  in  Africa,  was  sent  with  an  army  to  assist  Zobeir.  He 
met  that  general  in  Barca,  where  he  was  again  collecting  an 
army.  They  united  their  forces,  retraced  the  westward  route 
of  victory,  defeated  the  enemy  in  every  action,  and  replaced 
the  standard  of  the  faith  on  the  walls  of  Caerwan.  Having 
thus  wiped  out  the  recent  disgraces,  Abd'almalec  left  Zobeir  in 
command  of  that  region,  and  returned  covered  with  glory  to 
sustain  his  aged  father  in  the  Caliphat  at  Damascus. 

The  latter  days  of  Merwan  had  now  arrived.  He  had  been 
intriguing  and  faithless  in  his  youth ;  he  was  equally  so  in  his 
age.  In  his  stipulations  on  receiving  the  Caliphat  he  had  pro- 
mised the  succession  to  Khaled,  the  son  of  Yezid ;  he  had  since 
promised  it  to  his  nephew  Amru,  who  had  fought  his  battles  and 
confirmed  his  power ;  in  his  latter  days  he  caused  his  own  son 
Abd'almalec,  fresh  from  African  exploits,  to  be  proclaimed  his 
successor,  and  allegiance  to  be  sworn  to  him.  Khaled,  his  step- 
son, reproached  him  with  his  breach  of  faith ;  in  the  heat  of 
reply,  Merwan  called  the  youth  by  an  opprobrious  epithet, 
which  brought  in  question  the  chastity  of  his  mother.  This 
unlucky  word  is  said  to  have  caused  the  sudden  death  of 
Merwan.  His  wife,  the  mother  of  Khaled,  is  charged  with 
having  given  him  poison ;  others  say  that  she  threw  a  pillow 
on  his  face  while  he  slept,  and  sat  on  it  until  he  was  suffocated. 
He  died  in  the  65th  year  of  the  Hegira,  a.d.  684,  after  a  brief 
reign  of  not  quite  a  year. 


454  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 


CHAPTER  L. 

INAUGURATION  OF  ABD'ALMALEC,  THE  ELEVENTH  CALIPH— STORY 
OF  AL  MOKTAR,    THE  AVENGER. 

On  the  death  of  Merwan,  his  son  Abd'almalec  was  inaugu- 
rated Caliph  at  Damascus,  and  acknowledged  throughout  Syria 
and  Egypt,  as  well  as  in  the  newly -conquered  parts  of  Africa. 
He  was  in  the  full  vigor  of  life,  being  about  forty  years  of  age ; 
his  achievements  in  Africa  testify  his  enterprise,  activity,  and 
valor,  and  he  was  distinguished  for  wisdom  and  learning. 
From  the  time  of  his  father's  inauguration  he  had  been  look- 
ing forward  to  the  probability  of  becoming  his  successor, 
and  ambition  of  sway  had  taken  place  of  the  military  ardor  of 
his  early  youth.  When  the  intelligence  of  his  father's  death 
reached  him,  he  was  sitting  cross-legged,  in  oriental  fashion, 
with  the  Koran  open  on  his  knees.  He  immediately  closed  the 
sacred  volume,  and  rising,  exclaimed,  "Fare  thee  well,  I  am 
called  to  otber  matters." 

The  accession  to  sovereign  power  is  said  to  have  wrought  a 
change  in  his  character.  He  had  always  been  somewhat 
superstitious;  he  now  became  attentive  to  signs,  omens,  and 
dreams,  and  grew  so  sordid  and  covetous  that  the  Arabs,  in 
their  propensity  to  give  characteristic  and  satirical  surnames, 
used  to  call  him  Rafhol  Hejer,  that  is  to  say,  Sweat-Stone, 
equivalent  to  our  vulgar  epithet  of  skinflint. 

Abdallah  Ibn  Zobeir  was  still  acknowledged  as  Caliph  by  a 
great  portion  of  the  Moslem  dominions,  and  held  his  seat  of 
government  at  Mecca;  this  gave  him  great  influence  over  the 
true  believers,  who  resorted  in  pilgrimage  to  the  Caaba. 
Abd'almalec  determined  to  establish  a  rival  place  of  pilgrimage 
within  his  own  dominions.  For  this  purpose  he  chose  the  tem- 
ple of  Jerusalem,  sacred  in  the  eyes  of  the  Moslems,  as  con- 
nected with  the  acts  and  revelations  of  Moses,  of  Jesus,  and  of 
Mahomet,  and  as  being  surrounded  by  the  tombs  of  the  pro- 
phets. He  caused  this  sacred  edifice  to  be  enlarged  so  as  to 
include  within  its  walls  the  steps  upon  which  the  Caliph  Omar 
prayed  on  the  surrender  of  that  city.  It  was  thus  converted 
into  a  mosque,  and  the  venerable  and  sanctified  stone  called 
Jacob's  pillow,  on  which  the ,  patriarch  is  said  to  have  had  his 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  455 

dream,  was  presented  for  the  kisses  of  pilgrims,  in  like  manner 
as  the  black  stone  of  the  Caaba. 

There  was  at  this  time  a  general  of  bold  if  not  ferocious 
character,  who  played  a  sort  of  independent  part  in  the 
troubles  and  commotions  of  the  Moslem  empire.  He  was  the 
son  of  Abu  Obeidah,  and  was  sometimes  called  Al  Thakiii, 
from  his  native  city  Thayef,  but  won  for  himself  the  more 
universal  appellation  of  Al  Moktar,  or  the  Avenger.  The  first 
notice  we  find  of  him  is  during  the  short  reign  of  Hassan,  the 
son  of  Ah,  being  zealously  devoted  to  the  family  of  that 
Caliph.  We  next  find  him  at  Cufa,  harboring  and  assisting 
Muslem,  the  emissary  of  Hosein,  and  secretly  fomenting  the 
conspiracy  in  favor  of  the  latter.  When  the  emir  Obeid'allah 
came  to  Cufa,  he  was  told  of  the  secret  practices  of  Al  Moktar, 
and  questioned  him  on  the  subject.  Receiving  a  delusive 
reply,  he  smote  him  over  the  face  with  his  staff,  and  struck  out 
one  of  his  eyes.  He  then  cast  him  into  prison,  where  he  lay 
until  the  massacre  of  Hosein.  Intercessions  were  made  hi  his 
favor  with  the  Caliph  Yezid,  who  ordered  ins  release.  The 
emir  executed  the  order,  but  gave  Al  Moktar  notice  that  if, 
after  the  expiration  of  three  days,  he  were  found  within  his 
jurisdiction,  his  life  should  be  forfeit. 

Al  Moktar  departed,  uttering  threats  and  maledictions.  One 
of  his  friends  who  met  him  inquired  concerning  the  loss  of 
bis  eye.  "It  was  the  act  of  that  son  of  a  wanton,  Obeid'allah," 
said  he,  bitterly;  "  but  may  Allah  confound  me  if  I  do  not  one 
day  cut  him  in  pieces."  Blood  revenge  for  the  death  of  Hosein 
became  now  his  ruling  thought.  "  May  Allah  forsake  me,"  he 
would  say,  "  if  I  do  not  kill  as  many  in  vengeance  of  that  mas- 
sacre as  were  destroyed  to  avenge  the  blood  of  John,  the  son 
of  Zacharias,  on  whom  be  peace !" 

He  now  renaired  to  Mecca,  and  presented  himself  before 
Abdallah  Ibn  Zobeir,  who  had  recently  been  inaugurated;  but 
he  would  not  take  the  oath  of  allegiance  until  the  Caliph  had 
declared  his  disposition  to  revenge  the  murder  of  Hosein. 
"Never,"  said  he,  "will  the  affairs  of  Abdallah  prosper,  until  I 
am  at  the  head  of  his  army  taking  revenge  for  that  murder." 

Al  Moktar  fought  valiantly  in  defence  of  the  sacred  city 
while  besieged ;  but  when  the  siege  was  raised  in  consequence 
of  the  death  of  Yezid,  and  Abdallah  became  generally  acknow- 
ledged, he  found  the  Caliph  growing  cold  toward  him,  or 
toward  the  constant  purpose  of  his  thoughts:  he  left  him 
therefore,  and  set  out  for  Cufa,  visiting  all  the  mosques  on  the 


456  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

way,  haranguing  the  people  on  the  subject  of  the  death  of 
Hosein,  and  declaring  himself  his  avenger. 

On  arriving  at  Cufa  he  found  his  self-appointed  office  of 
avenger  likely  to  be  forestalled  by  the  veteran  Solyman,  who 
was  about  to  depart  on  Ins  mad  enterprise  with  his  crazy  Peni- 
tents. Calling  together  the  sectaries  of  Ali,  he  produced  cre- 
dentials from  Mahomet,  the  brother  of  Hosein,  which  gained 
for  him  their  confidence,  and  then  represented  to  them  the 
rashness  and  futility  of  the  proposed  expedition ;  and  to  his 
opposition  may  be  ascribed  the  diminished  number  of  volun- 
teers that  assembled  at  the  call  of  Solyman. 

While  thus  occupied  he  was  arrested  on  a  charge  of  plotting 
an  insurrection  with  a  view  to  seize  upon  the  province,  and 
was  thrown  into  the  same  prison  in  which  he  had  been  con- 
fined by  Obeid'allah.  During  his  confinement  he  kept  up  a 
correspondence  with  the  sectaries  of  Ah  by  letters  conveyed 
in  the  fining  of  a  cap.  On  the  death  of  the  Caliph  Merwan 
he  was  released  from  prison,  and  found  himself  head  of  the 
Alians,  or  powerful  sect  of  Ali,  who  even  offered  then-  adhesion 
to  him  as  Caliph,  on  condition  that  he  would  govern  according 
to  the  Koran,  and  the  Sonna  or  traditions,  and  would  destroy 
the  murderers  of  Hosein  and  his  family. 

Al  Moktar  entered  heartily  upon  the  latter  part  of  his  duties, 
and  soon  estabhshed  his  claim  to  the  title  of  Avenger.  The  first 
on  whom  he  wreaked  his  vengeance  was  the  ferocious  Shamar, 
who  had  distinguished  himself  in  the  massacre  of  Hosein. 
Him  he  overcame  and  slew.  The  next  was  Caulah,  who  cut 
off  the  head  of  Hosein  and  conveyed  it  to  the  emir  Obeid'allah. 
Him  he  beleaguered  in  his  dwelling,  and  killed,  and  gave  his 
body  to  the  flames.  His  next  victim  was  Amar  Ibn  Saad,  the 
commander  of  the  army  that  surrounded  Hosein;  with  him 
he  slew  his  son,  and  sent  both  of  their  heads  to  Mahomet,  the 
brother  of  Hosein.  He  then  seized  Adi  Ibn  Hathem,  who  had 
stripped  the  body  of  Hosein  while  the  limbs  were  yet  quivering 
with  life.  Him  he  handed  over  to  some  of  the  sect  of  Ali,  who 
stripped  him,  set  him  up  as  a  target,  and  discharged  arrows  at 
him  until  they  stood  out  from  his  body  like  the  quills  of  a  por- 
cupine. In  this  way  Al  Moktar  went  on^  searching  out  the 
murderers  of  Hosein  wherever  they  were  to  be  found,  and  in- 
flicting on  them  a  diversity  of  deaths. 

Sustained  by  the  Alians,  or  sect  of  Ali,  he  now  maintained  a 
military  sway  in  Cufa,  and  held,  in  fact,  a  sovereign  authority 
over  Babylonia ;  he  felt,  however,  that  his  situation  was  preca- 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  457 

rious ;  an  army  out  of  Syria,  sent  by  Abd'almalec,  was  threat- 
ening him  on  one  side;  and  Musab,  brother  of  the  Cahph 
Abdallah,  was  in  great  force  at  Bassora  menacing  him  on  the 
other.  He  •  now  had  recourse  to  stratagems  to  sustain  his 
power,  and  accomplish  his  great  scheme  of  vengeance.  He 
made  overtures  to  Abdallah,  offering  to  join  him  with  his 
forces.  The  wary  Caliph  suspected  his  sincerity,  and  re- 
quired, as  proofs  of  it,  the  oath  of  allegiance  from  himself  and 
his  people,  and  a  detachment  to  proceed  against  the  army  of 
Abd'almalec. 

Al  Moktar  promptly  sent  off  an  officer,  named  Serjabil,  with 
three  thousand  men,  with  orders  to  proceed  to  Medina.  Ab- 
dallah, still  wary  and  suspicious,  dispatched  a  shrewd  general, 
Abbas  Ibn  Sahel,  with  a  competent  force  to  meet  Serjabil  and 
sound  his  intentions,  and  if  he  were  convinced  there  was  lurk- 
ing treachery,  to  act  accordingly. 

Abbas  and  Serjabil  encountered  at  the  head  of  their  troops  on 
the  highway  to  Medina.  They  had  an  amicable  conference,  in 
which  Abbas  thought  he  discovered  sufficient  proof  of  perfidy. 
He  took  measures  accordingly.  Finding  the  little  army  of 
Serjabil  almost  famished  for  lack  of  provisions,  he  killed  a  great 
number  of  fat  sheep  and  distributed  them  among  the  hungry 
troops.  A  scene  of  hurry  and  glad  confusion  immediately  took 
place.  Some  scattered  themselves  about  the  neighborhood  in 
search  of  fuel ;  some  were  cooking,  some  feasting.  In  this  un- 
guarded moment  Abbas  set  upon  them  with  his  troops,  slew 
Serjabil  and  nearly  four  hundred  of  his  men ;  but  gave  quarter 
to  the  rest,  most  of  whom  enlisted  under  his  standard. 

Al  Moktar,  finding  that  his  good  faith  was  doubted  by  Ab- 
dallah, wrote  privately  to  Mahomet,  brother  of  Hosein,  who 
was  permitted  by  the  Caliph  to  reside  in  Mecca,  where  he  led 
a  quiet  inoffensive  life,  offering  to  bring  a  powerful  army  to 
his  assistance  if  he  would  take  up  arms.  Mahomet  sent  a 
verbal  reply,  assuring  Al  Moktar  of  his  belief  in  the  sincerity 
of  his  offers ;  but  declining  all  appeal  to  arms,  saying  he  was 
resolved  to  bear  his  lot  with  patience,  and  leave  the  event  to 
God.  As  the  messenger  was  departing,  he  gave  him  a  parting 
word:  "  Bid  Al  Moktar  fear  God  and  abstain  from  shedding 
blood." 

The  pious  resignation  and  passive  life  of  Mahomet  were  of 
no  avail.  The  suspicious  eye  of  Abdallah  was  fixed  upon  him. 
The  Cufians  of  the  sect  of  Ah,  and  devotees  to  the  memory  of 
Hosein,  who  yielded  allegiance  to  neither  of  the  rival  Caliphs, 


458  MAHOMET  AND  UIS  SUCCESSORS. 

were  still  permitted  to  make  their  pilgrimages  to  the  Caaba, 
and  when  in  Mecca  did  not  fail  to  do  honor  to  Mahomet  Ibn 
Ali  and  his  family.  The  secret  messages  of  Al  Moktar  to  Ma- 
homet were  likewise  known.  The  Caliph  Abdallah,  suspecting 
a  conspiracy,  caused  Mahomet  and  his  family,  and  seventeen 
of  the  principal  pilgrims  from  Cufa,  to  be  arrested,  and  con- 
fined in  the  edifice  by  the  sacred  well  Zem  Zem,  threatening 
them  with  death  unless  by  a  certain  time  they  gave  the  pledge 
of  allegiance. 

From  their  prison  they  contrived  to  send  a  letter  to  Al 
Moktar,  apprising  him  of  their  perilous  condition.  He  assem- 
bled the  Alians,  or  sect  of  Ali,  at  Cufa,  and  read  the  letter. 
"This  comes,"  said  he,  "from  Mahomet,  the  son  of  Ali  and 
brother  of  Hosein.  He  and  his  family,  the  purest  of  the  house 
of  your  prophet,  are  shut  up  like  sheep  destined  for  the  slaugh- 
ter. Will  you  desert  them  in  their  extremity,  and  leave 
them  to  be  massacred  as  you  did  the  martyr  Hosein  and  his 
family?" 

The  appeal  was  effectual ;  the  Alians  cried  out  to  be  led  to 
Mecca.  Al  Moktar  marshalled  out  seven  hundred  and  fifty 
men,  bold  riders,  hard  fighters,  well  armed  and  fleetly 
mounted,  arranged  them  in  small  troops  to  follow  each  other 
at  considerable  intervals,  troop  after  troop  like  the  waves  of  the 
sea;  the  leader  of  the  first  troop,  composed  of  a  hundred  and 
fifty  men,  was  Abu  Abdallah  Aljodali.  He  set  off  first;  the 
others  followed  at  sufficient  distance  to  be  out  of  sight,  but  all 
spurred  forward,  for  no  time  was  to  be  lost. 

Abu  Abdallah  was  the  first  to  enter  Mecca.  His  small  troop 
awakened  no  alarm.  He  made  his  way  to  the  well  of  Zem 
Zem,  crying,  "Vengeance  for  Hosein ;"  drove  off  the  guard 
and  broke  open  the  prison  house,  whence  he  liberated  Ma- 
homet Ibn  Ali  and  his  family. 

The  tumult  brought  the  Caliph  and  his  guard.  Abu  Ab- 
dallah would  have  given  them  battle,  but  Mahomet  interfered, 
and  represented  that  it  was  impious  to  fight  within  the  pre- 
cincts of  the  Caaba.  The  Caliph,  seeing  the  small  force  that 
was  with  Abdallah,  would  on  his  part  have  proceeded  to 
violence,  when  lo,  the  second  troop  of  hard  riders  spurred  up ; 
then  the  third,  and  presently  all  the  rest,  shouting  "Allah 
Achbar,"  and  "  Vengeance  for  Hosein." 

The  Caliph,  taken  by  surprise,  lost  all  presence  of  mind.  He 
knew  the  popularity  of  Mahomet  Ibn  Ali  and  his  family,  and 
dreaded  an  insurrection,      Abu  Abdallah  in  the  moment  of 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  459 

triumph  would  have  put  him  to  death,  but  his  hand  was 
stayed  by  the  pious  and  humane  Mahomet.  The  matter  was 
peaceably  adjusted.  The  Caliph  was  left  unmolested;  Ma- 
homet distributed  among  his  friends  and  adherents  a  great 
sum  of  money,  which  had  been  sent  to  him  by  Al  Moktar,  and 
then  with  his  family  departed  in  safety  from  Mecca. 

Al  Moktar  had  now  to  look  to  his  safety  at  home;  his  old 
enemy  Obeid'allah,  former  emir  of  Cufa,  was  pressing  forward 
at  the  head  of  an  army  of  the  Caliph  Abd'almalec,  to  recover 
that  city,  holding  out  to  his  troops  a  promise  of  three  days' 
sack  and  pillage.  Al  Moktar  called  on  the  inhabitants  to  take 
arms  against  their  former  tyrant  and  the  murderer  of  Hosein. 
A  body  of  troops  sallied  forth  headed  by  Ibrahim,  the  son  of 
Alashtar.  To  give  a  mysterious  sanctity  to  the  expedition,  Al 
Moktar  caused  a  kind  of  throne  covered  with  a  veil  to  be 
placed  on  a  mule,  and  led  forth  with  the  army ;  to  be  to  them 
what  the  ark  was  to  the  children  of  Israel,  a  sacred  safeguard. 
On  going  into  battle,  the  following  prayer  was  to  be  offered  up 
at  it :  "  Oh  God !  keep  us  in  obedience  to  thee,  and  help  us  in 
our  need."    To  which  all  the  people  were  to  respond,  "Amen!" 

The  army  of  Ibraliim  encountered  the  host  of  Obeid'allah  on 
the  plains,  at  some  distance  from  Cufa.  They  rushed  forward 
with  a  holy  enthusiasm  inspired  by  the  presence  of  their  ark : 
"Vengeance  for  Hosein!"  was  their  cry,  and  it  smote  upon  the 
heart  of  Obeid'allah.  The  battle  was  fierce  and  bloody;  the 
Syrian  force,  though  greatly  superior,  was  completely  routed; 
Obeid'allah  was  killed,  fighting  with  desperate  valor,  and  more 
of  his  soldiers  were  drowned  in  the  flight  than  were  slaughtered 
in  the  field.  This  signal  victory  was  attributed,  in  a  great 
measure,  to  the  presence  of  the  ark  or  veiled  throne,  which 
thenceforward  was  regarded  almost  with  idolatry. 

Ibrahim  caused  the  body  of  Obeid'allah  to  be  burned  to 
ashes,  and  sent  his  head  to  Al  Moktar.  The  gloomy  heart  of 
the  avenger  throbbed  with  exultation  as  he  beheld  this  relic  of 
the  man  who  had  oppressed,  insulted,  and  mutilated  him ;  he 
recollected  the  blow  over  the  face  which  had  deprived  him  of 
an  eye,  and  smote  the  gory  head  of  Obeid'aUah,  even  as  he  had 
been  smitten. 

Thus,  says  the  royal  and  pious  historian  Abulfeda,  did  Allah 
make  use  of  the  deadly  hate  of  Al  Moktar  to  punish  Obeid'- 
allah, the  son  of  Ziyad,  for  the  martyrdom  of  Hosein. 

The  triumph  of  Al  Moktar  was  not  of  long  duration.  He 
rided  over  a  fickle  people,  and  he  ruled  them  with  a  rod  of 


460  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

iron.  He  persecuted  all  who  were  not,  or  whom  he  chose  to 
consider  as  not,  of  the  Hosein  party,  and  he  is  charged  with 
fomenting  an  insurrection  of  the  slaves  against  the  chief  men 
of  the  city  of  Cufa.  A  combination  was  at  length  formed 
against  him,  and  an  invitation  was  sent  to  Musab  Ibn  Zobeir, 
who  had  been  appointed  emir  of  Bassora,  by  his  brother,  the 
Caliph  Abdallah. 

The  invitation  was  borne  by  one  Shebet,  an  enthusiast  who 
made  his  entrance  into  Bassora  on  a  mule  with  cropt  ears  and 
tail,  his  clothes  rent,  exclaiming  with  a  loud  voice,  "Ya, 
gautha!  Ya  gautha!  Help!  help!"  He  delivered  his  message 
in  a  style  suited  to  his  garb,  but  accompanied  it  by  letters  from 
the  chief  men  of  Cufa,  which  stated  their  grievances  in  a  more 
rational  manner.  Musab  wrote  instantly  to  Al  Mohalleb,  the 
emir  of  Persia,  one  of  the  ablest  generals  of  the  time,  to  come 
to  his  aid  with  men  and  money;  and  on  his  arrival,  joined 
forces  with  him  to  attack  the  Avenger  in  his  seat  of  power. 

Al  Moktar  did  not  wait  to  be  besieged.  He  took  the  field 
with  his  accustomed  daring,  and  gave  battle  beneath  the  walls 
of  bis  capital.  It  was  a  bloody  fight ;  the  presence  of  the  mys- 
terious throne  had  its  effect  upon  the  superstitious  minds  of 
the  Cufians,  but  Al  Moktar  had  become  hateful  from  his 
tyranny,  and  many  of  the  first  people  were  disaffected  to  him. 
His  army  was  routed ;  he  retreated  into  the  royal  citadel  of 
Cufa,  and  defended  it  bravely  and  skilfully,  until  he  received 
a  mortal  wound.  Their  chief  being  killed,  the  garrison  sur- 
rendered at  discretion,  and  Musab  put  every  man  to  the  sword, 
to  the  number  of  seven  thousand. 

Thus  fell  Al  Moktar  Ibn  Abu  Obeidah,  in  his  sixty-seventh 
year,  after  having  defeated  the  ablest  generals  of  three  Ca- 
liphs, and  by  the  sole  power  of  his  sword  made  himself  the 
independent  ruler  of  all  Babylonia.  He  is  said  never  to  have 
pardoned  an  enemy,  to  have  persecuted  with  inveterate  hate 
all  who  were  hostile  to  the  family  of  Ali,  and  in  vengeance  of 
the  massacre  of  Hosein  to  have  shed  the  blood  of  nearly  fifty 
thousand  men,  exclusive  of  those  who  were  slain  in  battle. 
Well  did  he  merit  the  title  of  the  Avenger. 


MAHOMET  AND  JUS  SUCCESSORS.  4(31 


CHAPTER  LI. 

MUSAB  IBN  ZOBEIR  TAKES  POSSESSION  OP  BABYLONIA— USURPA- 
TION OF  AMRU  IBN  SAAD;  HIS  DEATH— EXPEDITION  OF  ABD'- 
ALMALEC AGAINST  MUSAB — THE  RESULT — OMENS  ;  THEIR  EFFECT 
UPON  ABD'ALMALEC— EXPLOITS  OF  AL  MOHALLEB. 

The  death  of  Al  Moktar  threw  the  province  of  Babylonia, 
with  its  strong  capital,  Cufa,  into  the  hands  of  Musab  Ibn 
Zobeir,  brother  to  the  Caliph  Abdallah.  Musab  was  well 
calculated  to  win  the  favor  of  the  people.  He  was  in  the  flower 
of  his  days,  being  but  thirty-six  years  of  age,  comely  in  person, 
engaging  in  manners,  generous  in  spirit,  and  of  consummate 
bravery,  though  not  much  versed  in  warfare.  He  had  been 
an  intimate  friend  of  Abd'almalec  before  the  latter  was  made 
Caliph,  but  he  was  brother  to  the  rival  Caliph,  and  connected 
by  marriage  with  families  in  deadly  opposition  to  the  house  of 
Ommiah.  Abd'almalec,  therefore,  regarded  him  as  a  formi- 
dable foe,  and,  warned  by  the  disasters  of  his  army  under 
Obeid'allah,  resolved  now  to  set  out  at  the  head  of  a  second 
expedition  in  person,  designed  for  the  invasion  of  Babylonia. 

In  setting  forth  on  this  enterprise  he  confided  the  govern- 
ment of  Damascus  to  his  cousin,  Amru  Ibn  Saad ;  he  did  tbis 
in  consideration  of  the  military  skill  of  Amru,  though  secretly 
there  was  a  long  nourished  hate  between  them.  The  origin  of 
this  hatred  shows  the  simplicity  of  Saracen  manners  in  those 
days.  When  boys,  Abd'almalec  and  Amru  wrere  often  under 
the  care  of  an  old  beldame  of  their  family,  who  used  to  prepare 
their  meals,  and  produce  quarrels  between  them  in  the  allot- 
ment of  their  portions.  These  childish  disputes  became  fierce 
quarrels  and  broils  as  they  grew  up  together,  and  were  rivals 
in  their  youthful  games  and  exercises.  In  manhood  they 
ripened  into  deadly  jealousy  and  envy,  as  they  became  con- 
quering generals ;  but  the  elevation  of  Abd'almalec  to  the  Ca- 
liphat  sank  deep  into  the  heart  of  Amru,  as  a  flagrant  wrong; 
the  succession  having  been  promised  to  him  by  his  uncle,  the 
late  Caliph  Merwan,  as  a  reward  for  having  subjugated  Egypt. 
As  soon,  therefore,  as  Abd'almalec  had  departed  from  Damas- 
cus, Amru,  not  content  with  holding  the  government  of  the 
city,  aspired  to  the  sovereignty  of  Syria,  as  his  rightful  do- 
minion. 


4G2  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

Abd'almalec  heard  of  the  usurpation  while  on  the  march, 
returned  rapidly  in  his  steps,  and  a  bloody  conflict  ensued 
between  the  forces  of  the  rival  cousins  in  the  streets  of  Damas- 
cus. The  women  rushed  between  them ;  held  up  their  children 
and  implored  the  combatants  to  desist  from  this  unnatural 
warfare.  Amru  laid  down  his  arms,  and  articles  of  reconcilia- 
tion were  drawn  up  and  signed  by  the  cousins. 

Abd'almalec  proved  faithless  to  his  engagements.  Getting 
Amru  into  his  power  by  an  artful  stratagem,  he  struck  off  his 
head,  put  to  death  the  principal  persons  who  had  supported 
Mm  in  his  usurpation,  and  banished  his  family.  As  the  exiles 
were  about  to  depart,  he  demanded  of  the  widow  of  Amru  the 
written  articles  of  pacification  which  he  had  exchanged  with 
her  husband.  She  replied  that  she  had  folded  them  up  in  his 
winding-sheet,  to  be  at  hand  at  the  final  day  of  judgment. 

Abd'almalec  now  resumed  his  march  for  Babylonia.  He 
had  sent  agents  before  him  to  tamper  with  the  fidelity  of  the 
principal  persons.  One  of  these,  Ibrahim  Ibn  Alashtar,  he 
had  offered  to  make  emir,  if  he  would  serve  his  cause.  Ibra- 
him, who  was  of  incorruptible  integrity,  showed  the  letter  to 
Musab,  warned  him  that  similar  attempts  must  have  been 
made  to  sap  the  fidelity  of  other  persons  of  importance,  and 
advised  him  to  use  the  scimetar  freely,  wherever  he  suspected 
disaffection ;  but  Musab  was  too  just  and  merciful  to  act  thus 
upon  mere  suspicion.  The  event  showed  that  Ibrabim  under- 
stood the  fickle  and  perfidious  nature  of  the  people  of  Irak. 

A  battle  took  place  on  the  margin  of  the  desert  not  far  from 
Palmyra.  It  commenced  with  a  gallant  charge  of  cavalry, 
headed  by  Ibrahim  Ibn  Alashtar,  which  broke  the  ranks  of  the 
Syrians  and  made  great  havoc.  Abd'almalec  came  up  with  a 
reinforcement,  and  rallied  his  scattered  troops.  In  making  a 
second  charge,  however,  Ibrahim  was  slain,  and  now  the  per- 
fidy of  the  Cufians  became  apparent.  Musab's  general  of 
horse  wheeled  round  and  spurred  ignominiously  from  the 
field ;  others  of  the  leaders  refused  to  advance.  Musab  called 
loudly  for  Ibrahim ;  but  seeing  his  lifeless  body  on  the  ground, 
"Alas!"  he  exclaimed,  "there  is  no  Ibrahim  for  me  this 
day." 

Turning  to  his  son  Isa,  a  mere  stripling^  yet  who  had  fought 
with  manly  valor  by  his  side,  "Fly,  my  son,"  cried  he;  "fly 
to  thy  uncle  Abdallah  at  Mecca ;  tell  him  of  my  fate,  and  of 
the  perfidy  of  the  men  of  Irak."  Isa,  who  inherited  the  un- 
daunted spirit  of  the  family  of  Zobeir,  refused  to  leave  his 


MAIIOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  463 

father.  "  Let  us  retreat,"  said  he,  "  to  Bassora,  where  you  will 
still  find  friends,  and  may  thence  make  good  your  return  to 
Mecca."  "No,  my  son!"  replied  Musab,  "never  shall  it  be 
said  among  the  men  of  Koreish,  that  I  fled  the  field  of  battle, 
or  entered  the  temple  of  Mecca  a  vanquished  general !' 

During  an  interval  of  the  battle,  Abd'almalec  sent  Musab  an 
offer  of  his  life.  His  reply  was,  he  had  come  to  conquer  or  to 
die.  The  conflict  was  soon  at  an  end.  The  troops  who  had 
adhered  to  Musab  were  cut  to  pieces,  his  son  Isa  was  slain  by 
his  side,  and  he  himself,  after  being  repeatedly  wounded  with 
arrows,  was  stabbed  to  the  heart,  and  his  head  struck  off. 

When  Abd'almalec  entered  Cufa  in  triumph,  the  fickle  in- 
habitants thronged  to  welcome  him  and  take  the  oath  of  alle- 
giance, and  he  found  himself  in  quiet  possession  of  both  Baby- 
lonia and  Persian  Irak.  He  distributed  great  sums  of  money 
to  win  the  light  affections  of  the  populace,  and  gave  a  sump- 
tuous banquet  in  the  citadel  to  which  all  were  welcome. 

In  the  height  of  the  banquet,  Avhen  all  was  revelry,  a  thought 
passed  through  the  mind  of  the  Caliph,  as  to  the  transient 
duration  of  all  human  grandeur.  *'  Alas !"  he  ejaculated,  ' '  how 
sweetly  we  might  live,  if  a  shadow  would  but  last !"  The  same 
vein  of  melancholy  continued  when  the  banquet  was  over, 
and  he  walked  about  the  castle  with  an  old  gray-headed  in- 
habitant, listening  to  his  account  of  its  antiquities  and  tradi- 
tions. Every  reply  of  the  old  man  to  his  questions  about 
things  or  persons  began  with  the  words,  ' '  This  was — That  was 
— He  was." 

"Alas!"  sighed  the  Caliph,  repeating  a  verse  from  an  Ara- 
bian poet;  "everything  new  soon  runneth  to  decay,  and  of 
every  one  that  is,  it  is  soon  said,  He  was !" 

While  thus  conversing,  the  head  of  Musab  was  brought  to 
him,  and  he  ordered  a  thousand  dinars  of  gold  to  the  soldier 
who  brought  it,  but  he  refused  the  reward.  "  I  slew  him,"  he 
said,  ' '  not  for  money,  but  to  avenge  a  private  wrong. "  The 
old  chronicler  of  the  castle  now  broke  forth  on  the  wonderful 
succession  of  events.  "I  am  fourscore  and  ten  years  old," 
said  he,  "and  have  outlived  many  generations.  In  this  very 
castle  I  have  seen  the  head  of  Hosein  presented  to  Obeid'allah, 
the  son  of  Ziyad;  then  the  head  of  Obeid'allah  to  Al  Moktar; 
then  the  head  of  Al  Moktar  to  Musab,  and  now  that  of  Musab 
to  yourself."  The  Caliph  was  superstitious,  and  the  words  of 
the  old  man  sounded  ominously  as  the  presage  of  a  brief  career 
to  himself.      He  determined  that  his  own  head  should  not 


464  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

meet  with  similar  fate  within  that  castle's  walls,  and  gave 
orders  to  raze  the  noble  citadel  of  Cufa  to  the  foundation. 

Abd'almalec  now  appointed  his  brother  Besher  Ibn  Merwan 
to  the  government  of  Babylonia;  and  as  he  was  extremely- 
young,  he  gave  him,  as  chief  counsellor,  or  vizier,  a  veteran 
named  Musa  Ibn  Nosseyr,  who  had  long  enjoyed  the  confi- 
dence of  the  family  of  Merwan,  as  had  his  father  before  him. 
It  is  said  by  some  that  his  father  Nosseyr  was  a  liberated  slave 
of  the  Caliph's  brother  Abd'alaziz,  and  employed  by  him  in 
high  functions.  So  great  was  the  confidence  of  the  Caliph  in 
Musa  that  he  intrusted  him  with  all  the  military  rolls  of  the 
province,  and  signified  to  him  that  in  future  the  responsibility 
would  rest  upon  him.  On  taking  possession  of  his  government, 
Besher  delivered  his  seal  of  office  into  the  hands  of  Musa,  and 
intrusted  him  with  the  entire  management  of  affairs.  This 
Musa,  it  will  be  found,  rose  afterward  to  great  renown. 

The  Caliph  also  appointed  Khaled  Ibn  Abdallah  to  the  com- 
mand at  Bassora,  after  which  he  returned  to  his  capital  of 
Damascus.  The  province  of  Babylonia,  however,  was  not 
destined  to  remain  long  at  peace.  There  was  at  this  time  a 
powerful  Moslem  sect  in  Persia,  a  branch  of  the  Motalazites, 
called  Azarakites  from  the  name  of  their  founder  Ibn  Al 
Azarak,  but  known  also  by  the  name  of  Separatists.  They 
were  enemies  of  all  regular  government,  and  fomenters  of  se- 
dition and  rebellion.  During  the  sway  of  the  unfortunate 
Musab  they  had  given  him  great  trouble  by  insurrections  in 
various  parts  of  the  country,  accompanied  by  atrocious  cruel- 
ties. They  had  been  kept  in  check,  however,  by  Mohalleb,  the 
lieutenant  of  Musab  and  one  of  the  ablest  generals  of  the  age, 
who  was  incessantly  on  the  alert  at  the  head  of  the  army,  and 
never  allowed  their  insurrections  to  come  to  any  head. 

Mohalleb  was  on  a  distant  command  at  the  time  of  the  inva- 
sion and  conquest.  As  soon  as  he  heard  of  the  defeat  and 
death  of  Musab,  and  the  change  in  the  government  of  Irak,  ho 
hastened  to  Bassora  to  acknowledge  allegiance  to  Abd'almalec. 
Khaled  accepted  his  services,  in  the  name  of  the  Caliph,  but 
instead  of  returning  him  to  the  post  he  had  so  well  sustained 
at  the  head  of  the  army,  appointed  him  supervisor  or  collector 
of  tributes,  and  gave  the  command  of  the""  forces  to  his  own 
brother,  named  Abd'alaziz.  The  change  was  unfortunate.  The 
Azarakites  had  already  taken  breath,  and  acquired  strength 
dtiring  the  temporary  absence  of  their  old  adversary,  Mohal- 
leb ;  but  as  soon  as  they  heard  he  was  no  longer  in  command, 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  465 

they  collected  all  their  forces  and  made  a  rapid  inroad  into 
Irak. 

Abd'alaziz  advanced  to  meet  them ;  but  he  was  new  to  his 
own  troops,  being  a  native  of  Mecca,  and  he  knew  little  of  the 
character  of  the  enemy.  He  was  entirely  routed,  and  his  wife, 
a  woman  of  great  beauty,  taken  captive.  A  violent  dispute 
arose  among  the  captors  as  to  the  ransom  of  their  prize,  some 
valuing  her  at  one  hundred  thousand  dinars ;  until  a  furious 
zealot,  indignant  that  her  beauty  should  cause  dissension 
among  them,  struck  off  her  head. 

The  Caliph  Abd'almalec  was  deeply  grieved  when  he  heard 
of  this  defeat,  and  wrote  to  Khaled,  emir  of  Bassora,  reproving 
him  for  having  taken  the  command  of  the  army  from  Mohal- 
leb,  a  man  of  penetrating  judgment,  and  hardened  in  war,  and 
given  it  to  Abd'alaziz,  "a  mere  Arab  of  Mecca."  He  ordered 
him,  therefore,  to  replace  Mohalleb  forthwith,  and  wrote  also 
to  his  brother  Besher,  emir  of  Babylonia,  to  send  the  general 
reinforcements. 

Once  more  Mohalleb  proved  his  generalship  by  defeating  the 
Azrakites  in  a  signal  and  bloody  battle  near  the  city  of  Ahwaz; 
nor  did  he  puffer  them  to  rally,  but  pursued  them  over  the  bor- 
ders and  into  the  heart  of  the  mountains,  until  his  troops  lost 
almost  all  their  horses,  and  returned  crowned  with  victory,  but 
wayworn  and  almost  famished. 

The  effect  of  all  those  internal  wars  was  to  diminish,  for  a 
time,  the  external  terror  of  the  Moslem  name.  The  Greek  em- 
peror, during  the  recent  troubles,  had  made  successful  incur- 
sions into  Syria;  and  Abd'almalec,  finding  enemies  enough 
among  those  of  his  own  faith,  had  been  fain  to  purchase  a 
humiliating  truce  of  the  Christian  potentate  by  an  additional 
yearly  tribute  of  fifty  thousand  ducats. 


CHAPTER  LII. 


ABD'ALMALEC  MAKES  WAR  UPON  HIS  RIVAL  CALIPH  IN  MECCA- 
SIEGE  OF  THE  SACRED  CITY— DEATH  OP  ABDALLAH — DEMOLITION 
AND  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  THE   CAABA. 

Abd'almalec,  by  his  recent  victories,  had  made  himself 
sovereign  of  all  the  eastern  part  of  the  Moslem  dominions;  he 
had  protected  himself  also  from  the  Christian  emperor  by  a 


46G  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

disgraceful  augmentation  of  tribute;  he  now  determined  to 
carry  a  war  against  his  rival  Abdallah,  to  the  very  gates  of 
Mecca,  and  make  himself  sovereign  of  an  undivided  empire. 

The  general  chosen  for  this  important  enterprise  was  Al 
Hejagi  (or  Hedjadgi)  Ibn  Yusef,  who  rose  to  renown  as  one  of 
the  ablest  and  most  eloquent  men  of  that  era.  He  set  off  from 
Damascus  with  but  two  thousand  men,  but  was  joined  by 
Taric  Ibn  Amar  with  five  thousand  more.  Abd'almalec  had 
made  proclamations  beforehand,  promising  protection  and 
favor  to  such  of  the  adherents  of  AbdaUah  as  should  come 
unto  his  allegiance,  and  he  trusted  that  many  of  the  inhabit- 
ants of  Mecca  would  desert  to  the  standard  of  Al  Hejagi. 

Abdallah -sent  forth  troops  of  horse  to  waylay  and  check  the 
advance  of  the  army,  but  they  were  easily  repulsed,  and  Al 
Hejagi  arrived  without  much  difficulty  before  the  sacred  city. 
Before  proceeding  to  hostilities  he  discharged  arrows  over  the 
walls,  carrying  letters,  in  which  the  inhabitants  were  assured 
that  he  came  merely  to  release  them  from  the  tyranny  of 
Abdallah,  and  were  invited  to  accept  the  most  favorable 
terms,  and  abandon  a  man  who  would  fain  die  with  the  title 
of  Caliph,  though  the  ruins  of  Mecca  should  be  his  sepulchre. 

The  city  was  now  assailed  with  battering-rams  and  catapul- 
tas ;  breaches  were  made  in  the  walls ;  the  houses  within  were 
shattered  by  great  stones,  or  set  on  fire  by  flaming  balls  of 
pitch  and  naphtha. 

A  violent  storm  of  thunder  and  lightning  killed  several  of 
the  besiegers,  and  brought  them  to  a  pause.  ' '  Allah  is  wreak- 
ing his  anger  upon  us,"  said  they,  "for  assailing  his  holy  city." 
Al  Hejagi  rebuked  their  superstitious  fears  and  compelled 
them  to  renew  the  attack,  setting  them  an  example  by  dis- 
charging a  stone  with  his  own  hands. 

On  the  following  day  there  was  another  storm,  which  did 
most  injury  to  the  garrison.  "  You  perceive,"  said  Al  Hejagi, 
"the  thunder  strikes  your  enemies  as  well  as  yourselves." 

The  besieged  held  out  valiantly,  and  repulsed  every  assault. 
Abdallah,  though  now  aged  and  infirm,  proved  himself  a 
worthy  son  of  Zobeir.  During  the  early  part  of  the  siege  he 
resided  chiefly  in  the  Caaba;  that  sacred  edifice,  therefore, 
became  an  object  of  attack ;  a  part  of  It  was  battered  down 
by  stones,  and  it  was  set  on  fire  repeatedly  by  the  balls  of 
naphtha.  He  therefore  abandoned  it,  and  retired  to  his  own 
dwelling.  He  was  sustained  throughout  all  this  time  of  peril 
by  the  presence   and  counsels  of  his  mother,  a  woman  of 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  4(57 

masculine  spirit  and  unfailing  energy,  though  ninety  years  of 
age.  She  was  the  granddaughter  of  Abu  Beker,  and  proved 
herself  worthy  of  her  descent.  She  accompanied  her  son  to 
the  ramparts,  caused  refreshments  to  be  distributed  among  the 
fighting  men,  was  consulted  in  every  emergency  and  present  in 
every  danger. 

The  siege  continued  with  unremitting  strictness ;  many  of 
Abdallah's  most  devoted  friends  were  killed;  others  became 
disheartened :  nearly  ten  thousand  of  the  inhabitants  deserted 
to  the  enemy;  even  two  of  the  Caliph's  sons,  Hamza  and 
Koheib,  forsook  liim,  and  made  terms  for  themselves  with  the 
besiegers. 

In  this  forlorn  state,  his  means  of  defence  almost  exhausted, 
and  those  who  ought  to  have  been  most  faithful  deserting  him, 
Abdallah  was  tempted  by  an  offer  of  his  own  terms  on  con- 
dition of  surrender. 

He  turned  to  his  aged  mother  for  advice.  "  Judge  for  your- 
self, my  son,"  said  the  resolute  descendant  of  Abu  Beker.  "If 
you  feel  that  your  cause  is  just,  persevere.  Your  father  Zo- 
beir  died  for  it,  as  did  many  of  your  friends.  Do  not  bend 
your  neck  to  the  scorn  of  the  haughty  race  of  Ommiah.  How 
much  better  an  honorable  death  than  a  dishonored  life  for  the 
brief  term  you  have  yet  to  live. " 

The  Caliph  kissed  her  venerable  forehead.  "Thy  thoughts 
are  my  own,"  said  he,  "nor  has  any  other  motive  than  zeal 
for  God  induced  me  thus  far  to  persevere.  From  this  moment, 
consider  thy  son  as  dead,  and  refrain  from  immoderate  lamen- 
tation." " My  trust  is  in  God,"  replied  she,  "and  I  shall  have 
comfort  in  thee,  my  son,  whether  I  go  before  or  follow  thee." 

As  she  took  a  parting  embrace,  she  felt  a  coat  of  mail  under 
the  outer  garments  of  Abdallah,  and  told  him  to  put  it  off,  as 
unsuited  to  a  martyr  prepared  to  die.  "I  have  worn  it," 
replied  he,  ' '  that  I  might  be  the  better  able  to  defend  thee,  my 
mother."  He  added  that  he  had  little  fear  of  death,  but  a 
horror  of  the  insults  and  exposures  to  which  his  body  might 
be  subjected  after  death. 

"A  sheep  once  killed,  my  son,  feels  not  the  flaying."  With 
these  words  she  gave  him,  to  rouse  his  spirits,  a  cordial 
draught  in  which  was  a  strong  infusion  of  musk,  and  Abdallah 
went  forth  a  -self -devoted  martyr. 

This  last  sally  of  the  veteran  Caliph  struck  terror  and 
astonishment  into  the  enemy.  At  the  head  of  a  handful  of 
troops  he  repulsed  them  from  the  breach,  drove  them  into  the 


468  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

ditch,  and  slew  an  incredible  number  with  his  own  hand; 
others,  however,  thronged  up  in  then*  place ;  he  fought  until  his 
followers  were  slain,  his  arrows  expended,  and  he  had  no 
weapon  but  sword  and  lance.  He  now  retreated,  step  by  step, 
with  his  face  to  the  foe,  disputing  every  inch  of  ground,  until 
he  arrived  in  a  narrow  place  where  he  could  only  be  assailed 
in  front.  Here  he  made  his  last  stand.  His  opponents,  not 
daring  to  come  within  reach  of  his  weapons,  assailed  him  from 
a  distance  with  darts  and  arrows,  and  when  these  missiles 
were  expended,  with  bricks  and  tiles  and  stones.  A  blow 
on  the  head  from  a  stone  made  him  totter,  and  the  blood 
streamed  down  his  face  and  beard.  His  assailants  gave  a 
shout ;  but  he  recovered  himself  and  uttered  a  verse  of  a  poet, 
' '  The  blood  of  our  wounds  falls  on  our  instep,  not  on  our 
heels,"  implying  that  he  had  not  turned  his  back  upon  the  foe. 
At  length  he  sank  under  repeated  wounds  and  bruises,  and  the 
enemy  closing  upon  him  cut  off  his  head.  Thus  died  Abdallah 
the  son  of  Zobeir,  in  the  seventy-third  year  of  the  Hegira,  and 
the  seventy -second  year  of  his  own  age,  after  a  stormy  and 
disastrous  reign  of  nine  years. 

Taric  Ibn  Amar,  struck  with  admiration  of  his  persevering 
valor,  exclaimed,  "Never  did  woman  bear  a  braver  son!" 
"How  is  this,"  cried  Al  Hejagi;  "do  you  speak  thus  of  an 
enemy  of  the  Commander  of  the  Faithful  ?"  But  Abd'almalec, 
when  the  speech  was  reported  to  him,  concurred  in  the  praise 
of  his  fallen  rival.  "By  Allah!"  exclaimed  he,  "what  Taric 
hath  spoken  is  the  truth."  When  the  tidings  of  Abdallah's 
death  were  brought  to  his  aged  mother,  she  experienced  a 
revulsion  of  nature  which  she  had  not  known  for  fifty  years, 
and  died  of  hemorrhage. 

Abdallah  was  said  to  unite  the  courage  of  the  lion  with  the 
craftiness  of  the  fox.  Ho  was  free  from  any  glaring  vice,  but 
reputed  to  be  sordidly  covetous  and  miserly,  insomuch  that  he 
wore  the  same  garment  for  several  years.  It  was  a  saying  in 
Arabia  that  he  was  the  first  example  of  a  man  being  at  the 
same  time  brave  and  covetous ;  but  the  spoils  of  foreign  con- 
quest were  fast  corrupting  the  chivalrous  spirit  of  the  Arab 
conquerors.  He  was  equally  renowned  for  piety,  being  ac- 
cording to  tradition  so  fixed  and  immovable  in  prayer  that  a 
pigeon  once  perched  upon  his  head  mistaking  him  for  a  statue. 

With  the  death  of  Abdallah  ended  the  rival  Caliphat,  and 
the  conquering  general  received  the  oaths  of  allegiance  of  the 
Arabs  for  Abd'almalec.     His  conduct,  however,  toward  the 


MAUOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  469 

people  of  Mecca  and  Medina  was  as  cruel  and  oppressive  as  his 
military  operations  had  been  brilliant.  He  inflicted  severe 
punishments  for  trivial  offences,  sometimes  on  mere  suspicion ; 
and  marked  many  with  stamps  of  lead  upon  the  neck,  to  dis- 
grace them  in  the  public  eye.  His  most  popular  act  was  the 
reconstruction  of  the  dilapidated  Caaba  on  the  original  form 
which  it  had  borne  before  the  era  of  the  prophet. 

For  a  time  the  people  of  Mecca  and  Medina  groaned  under 
his  tyranny,  and  looked  back  with  repining  to  the  gentler 
sway  of  Abdallah ;  and  it  was  a  cause  of  general  joy  through- 
out those  cities  when  the  following  circumstances  caused  him 
to  be  removed  from  their  government  and  promoted  to  a 
distant  command. 

Though  the  death  of  Abdallah  had  rendered  Abd'almalec, 
sole  sovereign  of  the  Moslem  empire,  the  emir  of  Khorassan, 
Abdallah  Ibn  Hazem,  who  had  been  appointed  by  his  rival, 
hesitated  to  give  in  his  allegiance.  His  province,  so  distant 
and  great  in  extent,  might  make  him  a  dangerous  rebel; 
Abd'almalec,  therefore,  sent  a  messenger,  claiming  his  oath 
of  fealty,  and  proffering  him  in  reward  the  government  of 
Khorassan  for  seven  years,  with  the  enjoyment  of  all  its 
revenues;  at  the  same  time  he  sent  him  the  head  of  the 
deceased  Caliph,  to  intimate  the  fate  he  might  expect  should 
he  prove  refractory. 

The  emir,  instead  of  being  intimidated,  was  filled  with 
horror,  and  swore  never  to  acknowledge  Abd'almalec  as  Com- 
mander of  the  Faithful.  He  reverently  washed  and  embalmed 
the  head,  folded  it  in  fine  linen,  prayed  over  it,  and  sent  it  to 
the  family  of  the  deceased  Caliph  at  Medina.  Then  summon- 
ing the  messenger,  he  made  him  eat  the  epistle  of  Abd'almalec 
in  his  presence,  and  dismissed  him  with  the  assurance  that  his 
sacred  character  of  herald  alone  saved  his  head. 

It  was  to  go  against  this  refractory  but  high-minded  emir 
that  Al  Hejagi  was  called  off  from  his  command  in  Arabia. 
He  entered  Khorassan  with  a  powerful  army,  defeated  tbe 
emir  in  repeated  battles,  and  at  length  slew  him  and  reduced 
the  province  to  obedience. 

The  vigor,  activity,  and  indomitable  courage  displayed  by 
Al  Hejagi  in  these  various  services  pointed  him  out  as  the 
very  man  to  take  charge  of  the  government  of  Babylonia,  or 
Irak,  recently  vacated  by  the  death  of  the  Caliph's  brother 
Besher ;  and  he  was  accordingly  sent  to  break  that  refractory 
province  into  more  thorough  obedience. 


470  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

The  province  of  Babylonia,  though  formerly  a  part  of  the 
Persian  empire,  had  never  been  really  Persian  in  character. 
Governed  by  viceroys,  it  had  partaken  of  the  alien  feeling  of  a 
colony ;  forming  a  frontier  between  Persia  and  Arabia,  and  its 
population  made  up  from  both  countries,  it  was  deficient  in 
the  virtues  of  either.  The  inhabitants  had  neither  the  sim- 
plicity and  loyalty  of  the  Arabs  of  the  desert,  nor  the  refine- 
ment and  cultivation  of  the  Persians  of  the  cities.  Restless, 
turbulent,  factious,  they  were  ever  ready  to  conspire  against 
their  rulers,  to  desert  old  faiths,  and  to  adopt  new  sects  and 
heresies.  Before  the  conquest  by  the  Moslems,  when  Irak  was 
governed  by  a  Persian  satrap,  and  Syria  by  an  imperial  pre 
feet,  a  spirit  of  rivalry  and  hostility  existed  between  these 
frontier  provinces ;  the  same  had  revived  during  the  division 
of  the  Caliphat ;  and  while  Syria  was  zealous  in  its  devotion  to 
the  house  of  Ommiah,  Irak  had  espoused  the  cause  of  Ali. 
Even  since  the  reunion  and  integrity  of  the  Caliphat,  it  still 
remained  a  restless,  unsteady  part  of  the  Moslem  empire;  the 
embers  of  old  seditions  still  lurked  in  its  bosom,  ready  at  any 
moment  once  more  to  burst  forth  into  flame.  We  shall  see 
how  Al  Hejagi  fared  in  his  government  of  that  most  com- 
bustible province. 


CHAPTER  Lin. 

ADMINISTRATION  OF  AL  HEJAGI  AS  EMIR  OF  BABYLONIA. 

Al  Hejagi,  aware  of  the  nature  of  the  people  over  whom  he 
was  to  rule,  took  possession  of  his  govermnent  in  military 
style.  Riding  into  Cufa  at  the  head  of  four  thousand  horse, 
he  spurred  on  to  the  mosque,  alighted  at  the  portal,  and  as- 
cending the  pulpit  delivered  an  harangue  to  the  multitude, 
that  let  them  know  the  rigorous  rule  they  were  to  expect.  He 
had  come,  he  said,  "to  make  the  wicked  man  bear  his  own 
burden,  and  wear  his  own  shoe;"  and,  as  he  looked  round  on 
the  densely-crowded  assemblage,  he  intimated  he  saw  before 
him  turbaned  heads  ripe  for  mowing?-  and  beards  which  re- 
quired to  be  moistened  with  blood. 

His  sermon  was  carried  out  in  practice ;  he  ruled  with  a  rigor- 
ous hand,  swearing  he  would  execute  justice  in  a  style  that 
should  put  to  shame  all  who  had  preceded,  and  serve  as  an 
example  to  all  who  might  follow  him.      He  was  especially 


M A110 MET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  47 1 

severe,  and  even  cruel,  toward  all  who  had  been  in  any  way 
implicated  in  the  assassination  of  the  Caliph  Othman.  One 
person,  against  whom  he  came  prepared  to  exercise  the  utmost 
severity,  was  the  veteran  Musa  Ibn  Nosseyr,  who  had  offici- 
ated as  prime  minister  to  the  deceased  emir  Basher.  He  had 
been  accused  of  appropriating  and  squandering  the  taxes  col- 
lected in  the  province,  and  the  Caliph  had  lent  a  too  ready  ear 
to  the  accusation.  Fortunately,  the  following  letter,  from  a 
friend  in  Damascus,  apprised  Musa  in  time  of  his  danger. 

" Thy  deposition  is  signed;  orders  have  been  dispjatched  to 
Al  Hejagi  to  seize  on  thy  person  and  inflict  on  thee  the  most 
severe  punishment;  so  away!  away!  thy  safety  depends  on 
the  fleetness  of  thy  horse.  If  thou  succeed  in  placing  thyself 
under  the  protection  of  Abd'alaziz  Ibn  Merwan,  all  will  go  well 
with  thee." 

Musa  lost  no  time,  but  mounted  his  steed  and  fled  to  Damas- 
cus, where  Abd'alaziz  was  then  sojourning,  having  arrived 
with  the  tribute  of  Egypt.  Abd'alaziz  received  with  protecting 
kindness  the  veteran  adherent  of  the  family,  and  accompanied 
him  before  the  Caliph.  "How  darest  thou  show  thy  beard 
here?"  exclaimed  Abd'almalec.  "Why  should  I  hide  it?"  re- 
plied the  veteran;  "what  have  I  done  to  offend  the  Comman- 
der of  the  Faithful?"  "Thou  hast  disobeyed  my  orders,  and 
squandered  my  treasures."  "I  did  no  such  thing,"  replied 
Musa,  firmly;  "I  have  always  acted  like  a  faithful  subject; 
my  intentions  have  been  pure;  my  actions  true."  "By  Allah," 
cried  the  Caliph,  "  thou  shalt  make  thy  defalcation  good  fifty 
times  over. "  The  veteran  was  about  to  make  an  angry  reply, 
but  at  a  sign  from  Abd'alaziz  he  checked  himself,  and  bowing 
his  head.  " Thy  will  be  done,"  said  he,  "oh  Commander  of  the 
Faithful."  He  was  fined  fifty  thousand  dinars  of  gold;  which, 
however,  Abd'alaziz  enabled  him  to  pay ;  and,  on  his  return  to 
his  government  in  Egypt,  took  his  old  favorite  with  Mm.  How 
he  further  indemnified  Musa  for  his  maltreatment  will  be 
shown  hereafter.' 

To  resume  the  affairs  of  Al  Hejagi  in  Irak.  Having  exer- 
cised the  rod  of  government  in  Cufa,  he  proceeded  to  Bassora, 
where  he  was  equally  sharp  with  his  tongue  and  heavy  with 
his  hand.  The  consequence  was,  as  usual,  an  insurrection. 
This  suited  his  humor.  He  was  promptly  in  the  field ;  defeated 
the  rebels  in  a  pitched  battle ;  sent  the  heads  of  eighteen  of 
their  leaders  to  the  Caliph,  and  then  returned  to  the  adminis- 
tration of  affairs  at  Bassora.     He  afterward  sent  two  of  his 


472  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

lieutenants  to  suppress  a  new  movement  among  the  Azarakite 
sectaries,  who  were  defeated  and  driven  out  of  the  province. 

In  the  76th  year  of  the  Hegira  a  conspiracy  was  formed 
against  the  life  of  Abd'almalec,  by  two  Karigite  fanatics, 
named  Shebib  Ibn  Zeid  and  Saleh  Ibn  Mari.  Their  conspiracy 
was  discovered  and  defeated,  but  they  made  their  escape  and 
repaired  to  the  town  of  Daras,  in  Mesopotamia,  where  they  man- 
aged to  get  together  adherents  to  the  number  of  one  hundred 
and  twenty  men.  Saleh  was  smooth-tongued  and  seductive, 
having  a  melodious  voice  and  a  great  command  of  figurative 
language.  He  completely  fascinated  and  bewildered  his  com- 
panion Shebib,  and  their  infatuated  followers,  mingling  his 
inflammatory  harangues  with  pious  precepts  and  expositions 
of  the  Koran.  In  the  end  he  was  hailed  Commander  of  the 
Faithful  by  the  motley  crew,  and  gravely  accepted  the  office. 
His  men  were  all  armed,  but  most  of  them  were  on  foot;  he 
therefore  led  them  to  a  neighboring  village,  where  they  seized 
upon  the  best  horses  in  the  name  of  Allah  and  the  prophet,  to 
whom  they  referred  the  owners  for  payment. 

Mahomet,  brother  of  Abd'almalec,  who  was  at  that  time 
emir  of  Mesopotamia,  was  moved  to  laughter  when  he  heard 
of  this  new  Caliph  and  his  handful  of  rabble  followers,  and 
ordered  Adi,  one  of  his  officers,  to  take  five  hundred  men  and 
sweep  them  from  the  province. 

Adi  shook  his  head  doubtfully.  "One  madman,"  said  he, 
"is  more  dangerous  than  five  soldiers  in  their  senses." 

"Take  one  thousand  then,"  said  the  emir;  and  with  that 
number,  well  armed  and  mounted,  Adi  set  out  in  quest  of  the 
fanatics.  He  found  them  and  their  pseudo  Caliph  living  in 
free  quarters  on  the  fat  of  the  land,  and  daily  receiving  re- 
cruits in  straggling  parties  of  two,  and  three,  and  four  at  a 
time,  armed  with  such  weapons  as  they  could  catch  up  in  their 
haste.  On  the  approach  of  Adi  they  prepared  for  battle,  hav- 
ing full  confidence  that  a  legion  of  angels  would  fight  on  their 
side. 

Adi  held  a  parley,  and  endeavored  to  convince  them  of  the 
absurdity  of  their  proceedings,  or  to  persuade  them  to  carry 
their  marauding  enterprises  elsewhere^  but  Saleh,  assuming 
the  tone  of  Caliph  as  well  as  sectarian,  admonished  Adi  and 
his  men  to  conform  to  his  doctrines,  and  come  into  his  allegi- 
ance. The  conference  ended  while  it  was  yet  the  morning 
hour.  Adi  still  forbore  to  attack  such  a  handful  of  misguided 
men,  and  paid  dearly  for  his  forbearance.    At  noontide,  when 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  473 

be  and.  his  men  were  engaged  in  the  customary  prayer,  and 
their  steeds  were  feeding,  the  enthusiast  band  charged  sud- 
denly upon  them  with  the  cry  of  Allah  Achbar!  Adi  was 
slain  in  the  onset,  and  his  body  was  trampled  imder  foot ;  his 
troops  were  slaughtered  or  dispersed,  and  his  camp  and  horses, 
with  a  good  supply  of  arms,  became  welcome  booty  to  the 
victors. 

The  band  of  sectarians  increased  in  numbers  and  in  daring 
after  this  signal  exploit.  Al  Hejagi  sent  five  thousand  veteran 
troops  against  them,  under  Al  Hareth  Alamdani.  These  came 
by  surprise  upon  the  two  leaders,  Saleh  and  Shebib,  with  a 
party  of  only  ninety  men,  at  a  village  on  the  Tigris  not  far 
from  Mosul,  the  capital  of  Mesopotamia.  The  fanatic  chiefs 
attacked  the  army  with  a  kind  of  frantic  courage,  but  Saleh, 
the  mock  Caliph,  was  instantly  killed,  with  a  score  of  his  fol- 
lowers. Shebib  was  struck  from  his  horse,  but  managed  to 
keep  together  the  remnant  of  his  party ;  made  good  his  retreat 
with  them  into  Montbagi,  a  dismantled  fortress,  and  swung  to 
and  secured  the  ponderous  gate. 

The  victors  kindled  a  great  fire  against  the  gate,  and  waited 
patiently  until  it  should  burn  down,  considering  their  prey 
secure. 

As  the  night  advanced,  Shebib,  who  from  his  desolate  re- 
treat watched  anxiously  for  some  chance  of  escape,  perceived, 
by  the  light  of  the  fire,  that  the  greater  part  of  the  besiegers, 
fatigued  by  their  march,  were  buried  in  deep  sleep.  He  now 
exacted  from  his  men  an  oath  of  implicit  obedience,  which 
they  took  between  his  hands.  He  then  caused  them  to  steep 
most  of  their  clothing  in  a  tank  of  water  within  the  castle, 
after  which,  softly  drawing  the  bolts  of  the  flaming  gate,  they 
threw  it  down  on  the  fire  kindled  against  it ;  flung  their  wet 
garments  on  the  burning  bridge  thus  suddenly  formed,  and 
rushed  forth  scimetar  in  hand. 

Instead  of  contenting  themselves  with  an  escape,  the  crazy 
zealots  charged  into  the  very  heart  of  the  sleeping  camp  and 
wounded  the  general  before  an  alarm  was  given.  The  soldiers 
started  awake  in  the  midst  of  havoc  and  confusion ;  supposing 
themselves  surprised  by  a  numerous  army,  they  fled  in  all 
directions,  never  ceasing  their  flight  until  they  had  taken  re- 
fuge in  Mosul  or  Jukhi,  or  some  other  walled  city. 

Shebib  established  himself  amid  the  abundance  of  the  de- 
serted camp ;  scarce  any  of  his  men  had  been  kiUed  or  wounded 
in  this  midnight  slaughter;  he  considei-ed  himself  therefore 


474  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

invincible;  proclaimed  himself  Commander  of  the  Faithful, 
and  partisans  crowded  to  his  standard.  Strengthened  by  num- 
bers, he  led  his  fanatic  horde  against  Cufa,  and  had  the  address 
and  good  fortune  to  make  himself  master  of  it,  Al  Hejagi,  the 
emir,  being  absent  at  Bassora.  He  was  soon  joined  by  his  wife 
Gazala;  established  himself  as  Caliph  with  some  ceremonial, 
and  doubtless  his  vagabond  sway  was  more  acceptable  to  the 
people  of  Cufa  than  the  iron  rule  of  Al  Hejagi. 

The  mock  Caliphat,  however,  was  of  brief  duration.  Al 
Hejagi,  reinforced  by  troops  from  Syria,  marched  in  person 
against  Cufa.  He  was  boldly  met  in  the  plains  near  that  city 
by  Shebib,  at  the  head  of  four  thousand  men.  The  fanatics 
were  defeated,  and  Gazala,  the  wife  of  the  mock  Caliph,  who 
had  accompanied  her  husband  to  the  field,  was  slain.  Shebib 
with  a  remnant  of  his  force  cut  his  way  through  the  Syrian 
army,  crossed  and  recrossed  the  Tigris,  and  sought  refuge  and 
reinforcements  in  the  interior  of  Persia.  He  soon  returned 
into  Irak,  with  a  force  inconsiderable  in  numbers,  but  formi- 
dable for  enthusiasm  and  desperate  valor.  He  was  encoun- 
tered at  the  bridge  of  Dojail  al  Awaz.  Here  a  sudden  and  un- 
expected end  was  put  to  his  fanatic  career.  His  horse  struck 
his  fore  feet  on  some  loose  stones  on  the  margin  of  the  bridge, 
and  threw  his  rider  into  the  stream.  He  rose  twice  to  the  sur- 
face, and  each  time  uttered  a  pious  ejaculation.  "  What  God 
decrees  is  just!"  was  the  first  exclamation.  "The  will  of  God 
be  done!"  was  the  second,  and  the  waters  closed  over  him. 
His  followers  cried  with  loud  lamentations,  "The  Commander 
of  the  Faithful  is  no  more  I"  and  every  man  betook  himself  to 
flight.  The  water  was  dragged  with  a  net,  the  body  was  found 
and  decapitated,  and  the  head  sent  to  Al  Hejagi,  who  trans- 
mitted it  to  the  Caliph.  The  heart  of  this  enthusiast  was  also 
taken  out  of  his  breast,  and  is  said  to  have  been  as  hard  as 
stone.     He  was  assuredly  a  man  of  extraordinary  daring. 

Arabian  writers  say  that  the  manner  of  Shebib's  death  was 
predicted  before  his  birth.  His  mother  was  a  beautiful  Chris- 
tian captive,  purchased  at  a  public  sale  by  Yezid  Ibn  Nairn  for 
his  harem.  Just  before  she  gave  birth  to  Shebib,  she  had  a. 
dream  that  a  coal  of  fire  proceeded  from  her,  and,  after  en- 
kindling a  flame  over  the  firmament,  fell  into  the  sea  and  was 
(  xtinguished.  This  dream  was  interpreted  that  she  would 
give  birth  to  a  man-child,  who  would  prove  a  distinguished 
warrior,  but  would  eventually  be  drowned.  So  strong  was 
her  belief  in  this  omen,  that  when  she  heard,  on  one  occasion, 


MAHOMET  AND  IIIS  SUCCESSORS.  475 

of  his  defeat  and  of  his  alleged  death  on  the  battle-field,  she 
treated  the  tidings  as  an  idle  rumor,  saying  it  was  by  water 
only  her  son  would  die.  At  the  time  of  Shebib's  death  he  had 
just  passed  his  fiftieth  year. 

The  emir  Al  Hejagi  was  destined  to  have  still  farther  com- 
motions in  his  turbulent  and  inconstant  province.  A  violent 
feud  existed  between  him  and  Abda'lrahman  Ibn  Mohammed, 
a  general  subject  to  his  orders.  To  put  an  end  to  it,  or  to  re- 
lieve himself  from  the  presence  of  'an  enemy,  he  sent  him  on 
an  expedition  to  the  frontiers  against  the  Turks.  Abda'lrah- 
man set  out  on  his  march,  but  when  fairly  in  the  field,  with  a 
force  at  his  command,  conceived  a  project  either  of  revenge  or 
ambition. 

Addressing  his  soldiers  in  a  spirited  harangue,  he  told  them 
that  their  numbers  were  totally  inadequate  to  the  enterprise ; 
that  the  object  of  Al  Hejagi  in  sending  him  on  such  a  danger- 
ous service  with  such  incompetent  means  was  to  effect  his  de- 
feat and  ruin,  and  that  they  had  been  sent  to  be  sacrificed  with 
him. 

The  harangue  produced  the  desired  effect.  The  troops 
vowed  devotion  to  Abda'lrahman  and  vengeance  upon  the 
emir.  Without  giving  their  passion  time  to  cool,  he  led 
them  back  to  put  their  threats  in  execution.  Al  Hejagi 
heard  of  the  treason,  and  took  the  field  to  meet  them,  but 
probably  was  not  well  seconded  by  the  people  of  Babylonia, 
for  he  was  defeated  in  a  pitched  battle.  Abda'lrahman  then 
marched  to  the  city  of  Bassora ;  the  inhabitants  welcomed  him 
as  their  deliverer  from  a  tyrant,  and,  captivated  by  his  hu- 
mane and  engaging  manners,  hailed  him  as  Caliph.  Intoxi- 
cated by  his  success,  he  gravely  assumed  the  title,  and  pro- 
ceeded toward  Cufa.  Encountering  Al  Hejagi  on  the  way, 
with  a  hastily  levied  army,  he  gave  him  another  signal  de- 
feat, and  then  entered  Cufa  in  triumph,  amid  the  shouts  of  its 
giddy  populace,  who  were  delighted  with  any  change  that  re- 
leased them  from  the  yoke  of  Al  Hejagi. 

Abda'lrahman  was  now  acknowledged  Caliph  throughout 
the  territories  bordering  on  the  Euphrates  and  the  Tigris,  a 
mighty  empire  in  ancient  days,  and  still  important  from  its 
population,  for  he  soon  had  on  foot  an  army  of  one  hundred 
thousand  men. 

Eepeated  defeat  had  but  served  to  rouse  the  energy  of  Al 
Hejagi.  He  raised  troops  among  such  of  the  people  of  Irak  as 
remained  faitful  to  Abd'almalec,  received  reinforcements  from 


476  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

the  Caliph,  and  by  dint  of  indefatigable  exertions  was  again 
enabled  to  take  the  field. 

The  two  generals,  animated  by  deadly  hate,  encamped  their 
armies  at  places  not  far  apart.  Here  they  remained  between 
three  and  four  months,  keeping  vigilant  eye  upon  each  other, 
and  engaged  in  incessant  conflicts,  though  never  venturing 
upon  a  pitched  battle. 

The  object  of  Al  Hejagi  was  to  gain  an  advantage  by  his 
superior  military  skill,  and  he  succeeded.  By  an  artful 
manoeuvre  he  cut  off  Abda'lrahman,  with  a  body  of  five 
thousand  men,  from  his  main  army,  compelled  him  to  retreat, 
and  drove  him  to  take  refuge  in  a  fortified  town,  where,  being 
closely  besieged,  and  having  no  hope  of  escape,  he  threw  him- 
self headlong  from  a  lofty  tower,  rather  than  fall  into  the 
hands  of  his  cruel  enemy. 

Thus  terminated  the  rebellion  of  this  second  mock  Caliph, 
and  Al  Hejagi,  to  secure  the  tranquillity  of  Irak,  founded  a 
strong  city  on  the  Tigris,  called  Al  Wazab,  or  the  Centre,  from 
its  lying  at  equal  distance  from  Cufa,  Bassora,  Bagdad,  and 
Ahwaz,  about  fifty  leagues  from  each. 

Al  Hejagi,  whom  we  shall  have  no  further  occasion  to  men- 
tion, continued  emir  of  Irak  until  his  death,  which  took  place 
under  the  reign  of  the  next  Caliph,  in  the  ninety-fifth  year  of 
the  Hegira,  and  the  fifty-fourth  of  his  own  age.  He  is  said  to 
have  caused  the  death  of  one  hundred  and  twenty  thousand 
persons,  independent  of  those  who  fell  in  battle,  and  that,  at 
the  time  of  his  death,  he  left  fifty  thousand  confined  in  different 
prisons.    Can  we  wonder  that  he  was  detested  as  a  tyrant? 

In  his  last  illness,  say  the  Arabian  historian,  he  sent  for  a 
noted  astrologer,  and  asked  him  whether  any  great  general 
was  about  to  end  his  days.  The  learned  man  consulted  the 
stars,  and  replied,  that  a  great  captain  named  Kotaib,  or 
"The  Dog,"  was  at  the  point  of  death.  "That,"  said  the 
dying  emir,  ' '  is  the  name  my  mother  used  to  call  me  when  a 
child. "  He  inquired  of  the  astrologer  if  he  was  assured  of  his 
prediction.  The  sage,  proud  of  his  art,  declared  that  it  was 
infallible.  "  Then,"  said  the  emir,  "  I  will  take  you  with  me, 
that  I  may  have  the  benefit  of  your  skiH  in  the  other  world." 
So  saying,  he  caused  his  head  to  be  struck  off. 

The  tyranny  of  this  general  was  relieved  at  times  by  dis- 
plays of  great  magnificence  and  acts  of  generosity,  if  not 
clemency.  He  spread  a  thousand  tables  at  a  single  banquet, 
and  bestowed  a  million  dirhems  of  silver  at  a  single  donation. 


MAIIOMET  AND  UIS  SUCCESSORS.  477 

On  one  occasion,  an  Arab,  ignorant  of  his  person,  spoke  of 
him,  in  his  presence,  as  a  cruel  tyrant.  "  Do  you  know  me," 
said  Al  Hejagi,  sternly.  "I  do  not,"  replied  the  Arab.  "I 
am  Al  Hejagi!"  "That  may  be,"  replied  the  Arab,  quickly; 
"but  do  you  know  me?  I  am  of  the  family  of  Zobeir,  who 
are  fools  in  the  full  of  the  moon ;  and  if  you  look  upon  the 
heavens  you  will  see  that  this  is  my  day."  The  emir  laughed 
at  his  ready  wit,  and  dismissed  him  with  a  present. 

On  another  occasion,  when  separated  from  his  party  while 
hunting,  he  came  to  a  spring  where  an  Arab  was  feeding  his 
camels,  and  demanded  drink.  The  Arab  bade  him,  rudely,  to 
alight  and  help  himself.  It  was  during  the  rebellion  of 
Abda'lrahman.  After  he  had  slaked  Ms  thirst  he  demanded  of 
the  Arab  whether  he  was  for  the  Caliph  Abd'almalec.  The 
Arab  replied  ' '  No ;  for  the  Caliph  had  sent  the  worst  man  in 
the  world  to  govern  the  province. "  Just  then  a  bird,  passing 
overhead,  uttered  a  croaking  note.  The  Arab  turned  a  quick 
eye  upon  the  emir.  "Who  art  thou?"  cried  he,  with  con- 
sternation. " Wherefore  the  question?"  "Because  I  under- 
stand the  language  of  birds,  and  he  says  that  thou  art  chief  of 
yon  horsemen  that  I  see  approaching." 

The  emir  smiled,  and  when  his  attendants  came  up,  bade 
them  to  bring  the  camel-driver  with  them.  On  the  next  day 
he  sent  for  him,  had  meat  set  before  him,  and  bade  him  eat. 
Before  he  complied,  the  Arab  uttered  a  grace,  "Allah  grant 
that  the  end  of  this  meal  be  as  happy  as  the  beginning." 

The  emir  inquired  if  he  recollected  their  conversation  of 
yesterday.  "Perfectly!  but  I  entreat  thee  to  forget  it,  for  it 
was  a  secret  which  should  be  buried  in  oblivion." 

"Here  are  two  conditions  for  thy  choice,"  said  the  emir; 
"recant  what  thou  hast  said  and  enter  into  my  service,  or 
abide  the  decision  of  the  Caliph,  to  whom  thy  treasonable 
speech  shall  be  repeated."  "  There  is  a  third  course,"  replied 
the  Arab,  ' '  which  is  better  than  either.  Send  me  to  my  own 
home,  and  let  us  be  strangers  to  each  other  as  heretofore." 

The  emir  was  amused  by  the  spirit  of  the  Arab,  and  dis- 
missed him  with  a  thousand  dirhems  of  silver. 

There  were  no  further  troubles  in  Irak  during  the  lifetime  of 
Al  Hejagi,  and  even  the  fickle,  turbulent,  and  faithless  people 
of  Cufa  became  submissive  and  obedient.  AbuKaragius  says 
that  this  general  died  of  eating  dirt.  It  appears  that  he  was 
subject  to  dyspepsia  or  indigestion,  for  which  he  used  to  eat 
Terra    Lemnia   and    other    medicinal    or   absorbent    earths. 


478  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

Whether  he  fell  a  victim  to  the  malady  or  the  medicine  is  not 
clearly  manifest. 


CHAPTER  LIV. 


RENUNCIATION  OF  TRIBUTE  TO  THE  EMPEROR  —  BATTLES  IN 
NORTHERN  AFRICA  —  THE  PROPHET  QUEEN  CAHINA;  HER 
ACHIEVEMENTS  AND   FATE. 

The  seventy-second  year  of  the  Hegira  saw  the  Moslem 
dominions  at  length  free  from  rebellion  and  civil  war,  and 
united  under  one  Caliph.  Abd'almalec  now  looked  abroad, 
and  was  anxious  to  revive  the  foreign  glories  of  Islam,  ivhich 
had  declined  during  the  late  vicissitudes.  His  first  movement 
was  to  throw  off  the  galling  tribute  to  the  Greek  emperor. 
This,  under  Moawyah  I. ,  had  originally  been  three  thousand 
dinars  of  gold,  but  had  been  augmented  to  three  hundred  and 
sixty-five  thousand,  being  one  thousand  for  every  day  in  the 
Christian  year.  It  was  accompanied  by  three  hundred  and 
sixty-five  female  slaves,  and  three  hundred  and  sixty-five 
Arabian  horses  of  the  most  generous  race. 

Not  content  with  renouncing  the  payment  of  tribute,  Abd'- 
almalec sent  Alid,  one  of  his  generals,  on  a  ravaging  expedition 
into  the  imperial  dominions,  availing  himself  of  a  disaffection 
evinced  to  the  new  emperor  Leontius.  Alid  returned  laden 
with  spoils.  The  cities  of  Lazuca  and  Baruncium  were  likewise 
delivered  up  to  the  Moslems  through  the  treachery  of  Sergius, 
a  Christian  general. 

Abd'almalec  next  sought  to  vindicate  the  glory  of  the  Moslem 
arms  along  the  northern  coast  of  Africa.  There,  also,  the  im- 
perialists had  taken  advantage  of  the  troubles  of  the  Caliphat, 
to  reverse  the  former  successes  of  the  Moslems,  and  to 
strengthen  themselves  along  the  sea-coast,  of  which  their 
navy  aided  them  to  hold  possession.  Zohair,  who  had  been 
left  by  Abd'almalec  in  command  of  Barca,  had  fallen  into  an 
ambush  and  been  slain  with  many  of  his-  men,  and  the  posts 
still  held  by  the  Moslems  were  chiefly  in  the  interior. 

In  the  seventy-seventh  year  of  the  Hegira,  therefore,  Abd'al- 
malec sent  Hossan  Ibn  An-no'man,  at  the  head  of  forty  thou- 
sand choice  troops,  to  carry  out  the  scheme  of  African  con- 
quest.   That  general  pressed  forward  at  once  with  his  troops 


MAHOMET  AND  JUS  SUCCESSORS.  479 

against  the  city  of  Carthage,  which,  though  declined  from  its 
ancient  might  and  glory,  was  still  an  important  seaport,  forti- 
fied with  lofty  walls,  haughty  towers,  and  powerful  bulwarks, 
and  had  a  numerous  garrison  of  Greeks  and  other  Christians. 
Hossan  proceeded  according  to  the  old  Arab  mode ;  beleaguer- 
ing it  and  reducing  it  by  a  long  siege ;  he  then  assailed  it  by 
storm,  scaled  its  lofty  walls  with  ladders,  and  made  himself 
master  of  the  place.  Many  of  the  inhabitants  fell  by  the  edge 
of  the  sword ;  many  escaped  by  sea  to  Sicily  and  Spain.  The 
walls  were  then  demolished,  the  city  was  given  up  to  be  plun- 
dered by  the  soldiery,  the  meanest  of  whom  was  enriched  by 
booty.  Particular  mention  is  made  among  the  spoils  of  victory 
of  a  great  number  of  female  captives  of  rare  beauty. 

The  triumph  of  the  Moslem  host  was  suddenly  interrupted. 
While  they  were  revelling  in  the  ravaged  palaces  of  Carthage, 
a  fleet  appeared  before  the  port,  snapped  the  strong  chain 
which  guarded  the  entrance,  and  sailed  into  the  harbor.  It 
was  a  combined  force  of  ships  and  troops  from  Constantinople 
and  Sicily,  reinforced  by  Goths  from  Spain,  all  under  the  com- 
mand of  the  prefect  John,  a  patrician  general  of  great  valor 
and  experience. 

Hossan  felt  himself  unable  to  cope  with  such  a  force;  he 
withdrew,  however,  in  good  order,  and  conducted  his  troops 
laden  with  spoils  to  Tripoli  and  Caerwan,  and  having  strongly 
posted  them,  he  awaited  reinforcements  from  the  Caliph. 
These  arrived  in  the  course  ot  time,  by  sea  and  land.  Hossan 
again  took  the  field,  encountered  the  prefect  Joim,  not  far 
from  Utica,  defeated  him  in  a  pitched  battle,  and  drove  him  to 
embark  the  wrecks  of  his  army  and  make  all  sail  for  Constan- 
tinople. 

Carthage  was  again  assailed  by  the  victors,  and  now  its  deso- 
lation was  complete,  for  the  vengeance  of  the  Moslems  gave 
that  majestic  city  to  the  flames.  A  heap  of  ruins  and  the  re- 
mains of  a  noble  aqueduct  are  all  the  relics  of  a  metropolis  that 
once  valiantly  contended  for  dominion  with  Rome,  the  mistress 
of  the  world. 

The  imperial  forces  were  now  expelled  from  the  coasts  of 
Northern  Africa,  but  the  Moslems  had  not  yet  achieved  the 
conquest  of  the  country.  A  formidable  enemy  remained  in  the 
person  of  a  native  and  heroic  queen,  who  was  revered  by  her 
subjects  as  a  saint  or  prophetess.  Her  real  name  was  Dhabba, 
but  she  is  generally  known  in  history  by  the  surname,  given 
to  her  by  the  Moslems,  of  Cahina  or  the  Sorceress.     She  has 


480  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSOES. 

occasionally  been  confounded  with  her  son  Aben,  or  rather  Ibn 
Cahina,  of  whom  mention  has  been  made  in  a  previous  chapter. 

Under  the  sacred  standard  of  this  prophet  queen  were  com- 
bined the  Moors  of  Mauritania  and  the  Berbers  of  the  moun- 
tains, and  of  the  plains  bordering  on  the  interior  deserts.  Rov- 
ing and  independent  tribes,  which  had  formerly  warred  with 
each  other,  now  yielded  implicit  obedience  to  one  common 
leader,  whom  they  regarded  with  religious  reverence.  The 
character  of  marabout  or  saint  has  ever  had  vast  influence 
over  the  tribes  of  Africa.  Under  this  heroic  woman  the  com- 
bined host  had  been  reduced  to  some  degree  of  discipline,  and 
inspired  with  patriotic  ardor,  and  were  now  prepared  to  make 
a  more  effective  struggle  for  their  native  land  than  they  had 
yet  done  under  their  generals. 

After  repeated  battles,  the  emir  Hossan  was  compelled  to  re- 
tire with  his  veteran  but  diminished  army  to  the  frontiers  of 
Egypt.  The  patriot  queen  was  not  satisfied  with  this  partial  sue 
cess.  Calling  a  council  of  war  of  the  leaders  and  principal  war- 
riors of  the  different  hordes:  "  This  retreat  of  the  enemy,"  said 
she,  ' '  is  but  temporary ;  they  will  return  in  greater  force.  What 
is  it  that  attracts  to  our  land  these  Arab  spoilers  ?  The  wealth 
of  our  cities,  the  treasures  of  silver  and  gold  digged  from  the 
bowels  of  the  earth,  the  fruits  of  our  gardens  and  orchards, 
the  produce  of  our  fields.  Let  us  demolish  our  cities,  return 
these  accursed  treasures  into  the  earth,  fell  our  fruit  trees,  lay 
waste  our  fields,  and  spread  a  barrier  of  desolation  between  us 
and  the  country  of  these  robbers !" 

The  words  of  the  royal  prophetess  were  received  with  fanatic 
enthusiasm  by  her  barbarian  troops,  the  greater  part  of  whom, 
collected  from  the  mountains  and  from  distant  parts,  had  little 
share  in  the  property  to  be  sacrificed.  Walled  towns  were 
forthwith  dismantled,  majestic  edifices  were  tumbled  into 
ruins,  groves  of  fruit  trees  were  hewn  down,  and  the  whole 
country  from  Tangier  to  Tripoli  was  converted  from  a  populous 
and  fertile  region  into  a  howling  and  barren  waste.  A  short 
time  was  sufficient  to  effect  a  desolation  which  centuries  have 
not  sufficed  to  remedy. 

This  sacrificial  measure  of  Queen  Cahina,  however  patriotic 
its  intention,  was  fatal  in  the  end  to  herself.  The  inhabitants 
of  the  cities  and  the  plains,  who  had  beheld  their  property  laid 
waste  by  the  infuriated  zeal  of  their  defenders,  hailed  the  re- 
turn of  the  Moslem  invaders  as  though  they  had  been  the 
saviors  of  the  land. 


MAHOMET  AND  UIS  SUCCESSORS.  481 

The  Moslems,  as  Cahina  predicted,  returned  with  augmented 
forces ;  but  when  she  took  the  field  to  oppose  them,  the  ranks 
of  her  army  were  thinned ;  the  enthusiasm  which  had  formerly 
animated  them  was  at  an  end :  they  were  routed,  after  a  san- 
guinary battle,  and  the  heroine  fell  into  the  hands  of  the 
enemy.  Those  who  captured  her  spared  her  life,  because  she 
was  a  woman  and  a  queen.  When  brought  into  the  presence 
of  Hossan,  she  maintained  her  haughty  and  fierce  demeanor. 
He  proposed  the  usual  conditions,  of  conversion  or  tribute. 
She  refused  both  with  scorn,  and  fell  a  victim  to  her  patriotism 
and  religious  constancy,  being  beheaded  in  the  presence  of  the 
emir. 

Hossan  Ibn  An-no'man  now  repaired  to  Damascus,  to  give 
the  Caliph  an  account  of  his  battles  and  victories,  bearing  an 
immense  amount  of  booty,  and  several  signal  trophies.  The 
most  important  of  the  latter  was  a  precious  box  containing  the 
embalmed  head  of  the  slaughtered  Cahina.  He  was  received 
with  great  distinction,  loaded  with  honors,  and  the  govern- 
ment of  Barca  was  added  to  his  military  command. 

This  last  honor  proved  fatal  to  Hossan.  Abd'alaziz  Ibn  Mer- 
wan,  the  Caliph's  brother,  was  at  that  time  emir  of  Egypt,  and 
considered  the  province  of  Barca  a  part  of  the  territories  under 
his  government.  He  had,  accordingly,  appointed  one  of  his 
officers  to  command  it  as  his  lieutenant.  He  was  extremely 
displeased  and  disconcerted,  therefore,  when  he  was  told  that 
Hossan  had  solicited  and  obtained  the  government  of  that 
province.  Sending  for  the  latter,  as  he  passed  through  Egypt 
on  his  way  to  his  post,  he  demanded  whether  it  was  true  that 
in  addition  to  his  African  command  he  was  really  appointed 
governor  of  Barca.  Being  answered  in  the  affirmative,  he  ap- 
peared still  to  doubt;  whereupon  Hossan  produced  the  man- 
date of  the  Caliph.  Finding  it  correct,  Abd'alaziz  urged  him 
to  resign  the  office.  "Violence  only,"  said  Hossan,  "shall 
wrest  from  me  an  honor  conferred  by  the  Commander  of  the 
Faithful."  "Then  I  deprive  thee  of  both  governments,"  ex- 
claimed the  emir,  in  a  passion,  "and  will  appoint  a  better  man 
in  thy  stead ;  and  my  brother  will  soon  perceive  the  benefit  he 
derives  from  the  change."  So  saying,  he  tore  the  diploma  in 
pieces. 

It  is  added  that,  not  content  with  depriving  Hossan  of  his 
command,  he  despoiled  him  of  all  his  property,  and  carried  his 
persecution  so  far  that  the  conqueror  of  Carthage,  the  slayer 
of  the  patriot  queen,  within  a  brief  time  after  her  death,  and 


482  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

almost  amid  the  very  scenes  of  his  triumphs,  died  of  a  broken 
heart.  His  cruel  treatment  of  the  heroic  Cahina  reconciles  us 
to  the  injustice  wreaked  upon  himself. 


CHAPTER  LV. 


MUSA  IBN  NOSSEYR   MADE  EMIR  OF  NORTHERN  AFRICA — HIS  CAM- 
PAIGNS  AGAINST  THE  BERBERS. 

TnE  general  appointed  by  the  Caliph's  brother,  Abd'alaziz 
Ibn  Merwan,  to  the  command  in  Northern  Africa,  was  Musa 
Ibn  Nosseyr,  the  same  old  adherent  of  the  Merwan  family  that 
had  been  prime  counsellor  of  the  Caliph's  brother  Besher,  when 
emir  of  Irak,  and  had  escaped  by  dint  of  hoof  from  the  clutches 
of  Al  Hejagi,  when  the  latter  was  about  to  arrest  him  on  a 
charge  of  squandering  the  public  funds.  Abd'alaziz,  it  will  be 
remembered,  assisted  him  to  pay  the  fifty  thousand  dinars  of 
gold,  in  which  he  was  mulcted  by  the  Caliph,  and  took  him 
with  him  to  Egypt ;  and  it  may  have  been  with  some  view  to 
self -reimbursement  that  the  Egyptian  emir  now  took  the  some- 
what bold  step  of  giving  him  the  place  assigned  to  Hossan  by 
Abd'almalac. 

At  the  time  of  his  appointment  Musa  was  sixty  years  of  age. 
He  was  still  active  and  vigorous,  of  noble  presence,  and  con- 
cealed his  age  by  tinging  his  hair  and  beard  with  henna.  He 
had  three  brave  sons  who  aided  him  in  his  campaigns,  and  in 
whom  he  took  great  pride.  The  eldest  he  had  named  Abd'al- 
aziz, after  his  patron ;  he  was  brave  and  magnanimous,  in  the 
freshness  of  his  youth,  and  his  father's  right  hand  in  all  his 
enterprises.  Another  of  his  sons  he  had  called  Merwan,  the 
family  name  of  Abd'alaziz  and  the  Caliph. 

Musa  joined  the  army  at  its  African  encampment,  and  ad- 
dressed his  troops  in  frank  and  simple  language.  ' '  I  am  a 
plain  soldier  like  yourselves,"  said  he;  "  whenever  I  act  well, 
thank  God,  and  endeavor  to  imitate  me.  When  I  do  wrong, 
reprove  me,  that  I  may  amend ;  for  we  are  all  sinners  and 
liable  to  err.  If  any  one  has  at  any  time  a  complaint  to  make, 
let  him  state  it  frankly,  and  it  shall  be  attended  to.  I  have 
orders  from  the  emir  Abd'alaziz  (to  whom  God  be  bountiful !) 
to  pay  you  three  times  the  amount  of  your  arrears.     Take  it, 


MAnOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  483 

and  make  good  use  of  it."  It  is  needless  to  say  that  the  ad- 
dress, especially  the  last  part,  was  received  with  acclamations. 

While  Musa  was  making  his  harangue,  a  sparrow  fluttered 
into  his  hosom.  Interpreting  it  as  a  good  omen,  he  called  for 
a  knife,  cut  off  the  bird's  head,  besmeared  the  bosom  of  his 
vest  with  the  blood,  and  scattering  the  feathers  in  the  air 
above  his  head :  ' '  Victory !  Victory !"  he  cried,  ' '  by  the  master 
of  the  Caaba,  victory  is  ours !" 

It  is  evident  that  Musa  understood  the  character  and  foibles 
of  his  troops ;  he  soon  won  their  favor  by  his  munificence,  and 
still  more  by  his  affability ;  always  accosting  them  with  kind 
words  and  cheerful  looks ;  carefully  avoiding  the  error  of  those 
reserved  commanders,  shut  up  in  the  fancied  dignity  of  sta- 
tion, who  looked,  he  said,  "as  if  God  had  tied  a  knot  in  their 
throats,  so  that  they  could  not  utter  a  word." 

"  A  commander,"  he  used  to  say,  "  ought  to  consult  wise  and 
experienced  men  in  every  undertaking;  but  when  he  has  made 
up  his  mind,  he  should  be  firm  and  steady  of  purpose.  He 
should  be  brave,  adventurous,  at  times  even  rash,  confiding  in 
his  good  fortune,  and  endeavoring  to  do  more  than  is  expected 
of  him.  He  should  be  doubly  cautious  after  victory,  doubly 
brave  after  defeat. " 

Musa  found  a  part  of  Eastern  Africa,*  forming  the  present 
states  of  Tunis  and  Algiers,  in  complete  confusion  and  insur- 
rection. A  Berber  chief,  Warkattaf  by  name,  scoured  night 
and  day  the  land  between  Zaghwan  and  Caerwan.  The  Ber- 
bers had  this  advantage:  if  routed  in  the  plains  they  took 
refuge  in  the  mountains,  which  ran  parallel  to  the  coast,  form- 
ing part  of  the  great  chain  of  Atlas;  in  the  fastness  of  these 
mountains  they  felt  themselves  secure;  but  should  they  be 
driven  out  of  these  they  could  plunge  into  the  boundless  des- 
erts of  the  interior,  and  bid  defiance  to  pursuit. 

The  energy  of  Musa  rose  with  the  difficulty  of  his  enterprise. 
"  Take  courage,"  would  he  say  to  his  troops.  "  God  is  on  our 
side,  and  will  enable  us  to  cope  with  our  enemies,  however 
strong  their  holds.  By  Allah!  I'll  carry  the  war  into  yon 
haughty  mountains,  nor  cease  until  we  have  seized  upon  their 
passes,  surmounted  their  summits,  and  made  ourselves  mas- 
ters of  the  country  beyond." 

His  words  were  not  an  empty  threat.     Having  vanquished 

*  Northern  Africa,  extending  from  Egypt  to  the  extremity  of  Mauritania,  was 
subdivided  into  Eastern  and  Western  Africa. 


484  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

the  Berbers  in  the  plains,  he  sent  his  sons  Abd'alaziz  and  Mer- 
wan  with  troops  in  different  directions,  who  attacked  the 
enemy  in  their  mountain-holds,  and  drove  them  beyond  to 
the  borders  of  the  Southern  desert.  Warkattaf  was  slain  with 
many  of  his  warriors,  and  Musa  had  the  gratification  of  seeing 
his  sons  return  triumphant  from  their  different  expeditions, 
bringing  to  the  camp  thousands  of  captives  and  immense 
booty.  Indeed  the  number  of  prisoners  of  both  sexes,  taken  in 
these  campaigns,  is  said  to  have  amounted  to  three  hundred 
thousand,  of  whom  one  fifth,  or  sixty  thousand,  formed  the 
Caliph's  share. 

Musa  hastened  to  write  an  account  of  his  victories  to  his 
patron  Abd'alaziz  Ibn  Merwan,  and  as  he  knew  covetousness 
to  be  the  prime  failing  of  the  emir,  he  sent  him,  at  the  same 
time,  a  great  share  of  the  spoils,  with  choice  horses  and  female 
slaves  of  surpassing  beauty. 

The  letter  and  the  present  came  most  opportunely.  Abd'ala- 
ziz had  just  received  a  letter  from  his  brother,  the  Caliph,  re- 
buking him  for  having  deposed  Hossan,  a  brave,  experienced 
and  fortunate  officer,  and  given  his  office  to  Musa,  a  man  who 
had  formerly  incurred  the  displeasure  of  the  government ;  and 
he  was  ordered  forthwith  to  restore  Hossan  to  his  command. 

In  reply,  Abd'alaziz  transmitted  the  news  of  the  African 
victories.  "  I  have  just  received  from  Musa,"  writes  he,  "  the 
letter  which  I  enclose,  that  thou  mayest  peruse  it,  and  give 
thanks  to  God." 

Other  tidings  came  to  the  same  purport,  accompanied  by  a 
great  amount  of  booty.  The  Caliph's  feelings  toward  Musa 
immediately  changed.  He  at  once  saw  his  fitness  for  the  post 
he  occupied,  and  confirmed  the  appointment  of  Abd'alaziz, 
making  him  emir  of  Africa.  He,  moreover,  granted  yearly 
pensions  of  two  hundred  pieces  of  gold  to  himself  and  one  hun- 
dred to  each  of  his  sons,  and  directed  him  to  select  from  among 
his  soldiers  five  hundred  of  those  who  had  most  distinguished 
themselves  in  battle,  or  received  most  wounds,  and  give  them 
each  thirty  pieces  of  gold.  Lastly,  he  revoked  the  fine  formerly 
imposed  upon  him  of  fifty  thousand  dinars  of  gold,  and  autho- 
rized him  to  reimburse  himself  out  of  the  Caliph's  share  of  the 
spoil. 

This  last  sum  Musa  declined  to  receive  for  his  own  benefit, 
but  publicly  devoted  it  to  the  promotion  of  the  faith  and  the 
good  of  its  professors.  Whenever  a  number  of  captives  were 
put  up  for  sale  after  a  victory,  he  chose  from  among  them 


MAHOMET  AND  JUS  SUCCESSORS.  485 

those  who  were  young,  vigorous,  intelligent,  of  noble  origin, 
and  who  appeared  disposed  to  be  instructed  in  the  religion  of 
Islam.  If  they  were  converted,  and  proved  to  bave  sufficient 
talent,  he  gave  them  their  liberty,  and  appointed  them  to  com- 
mands in  his  army ;  if  otherwise,  he  returned  them  to  the  mass 
of  captives,  to  be  disposed  of  in  the  usual  manner. 

The  fame  of  Musa's  victories,  and  of  the  immense  spoil  col- 
lected by  his  troops,  brought  recruits  to  his  standard  from 
Egypt  and  Syria,  and  other  distant  parts ;  for  rapine  was  be- 
coming more  and  more  the  predominant  passion  of  the  Moslems. 
The  army  of  Musa  was  no  longer  composed,  like  the  primitive 
armies  of  the  faith,  merely  of  religious  zealots.  The  campaigns 
in  foreign  countries,  and  the  necessity,  at  distant  points,  of 
recruiting  the  diminished  ranks  from  such  sources  as  were  at 
hand,  had  relaxed  the  ancient  scruples  as  to  unity  of  faith,  and 
men  of  different  creeds  now  fought  under  the  standard  of 
Islam  without  being  purified  by  conversion.  The  army  was, 
therefore,  a  motley  host  of  every  country  and  kind;  Arabs 
and  Syrians,  Persians  and  Copts,  and  nomadic  Africans;  ar- 
rayed in  every  kind  of  garb,  and  armed  with  every  kind  of 
weapon.  Musa  had  succeeded  in  enlisting  in  his  service  many 
of  the  native  tribes ;  a  few  of  them  were  Christians,  a  greater 
proportion  idolaters,  but  the  greatest  number  professed  Juda- 
ism. They  readily  amalgamated  with  the  Arabs,  having  the 
same  nomad  habits,  and  the  same  love  of  war  and  rapine. 
They  even  traced  their  origin  to  the  same  Asiatic  stock.  Ac- 
cording to  their  traditions  five  colonies,  or  tribes,  came  in  an- 
cient times  from  Sabasa,  in  Arabia  the  Happy,  being  expelled 
thence  with  their  king  Ifrique.  From  these  descended  the  five 
most  powerful  Berber  tribes,  the  Zenhagians,  Muzamudas, 
Zenetes,  Gomeres,  and  Hoares. 

Musa  artfully  availed  himself  of  these  traditions,  addressed 
the  conquered  Berbers  as  Aulad-arabi  (sons  of  the  Arabs),  and 
so  soothed  their  pride  by  this  pretended  consanguinity,  that 
many  readily  embraced  the  Moslem  faith,  and  thousands  of 
the  bravest  men  of  Numidia  enrolled  themselves  of  their  own 
free  will  in  the  armies  of  Islam. 

Others,  however,  persisted  in  waging  stubborn  war  with  the 
invaders  of  their  country,  and  among  these  the  most  powerful 
and  intrepid  were  the  Zenetes.  They  were  a  free,  independent, 
and  haughty  race.  Marmol,  in  his  description  of  Africa,  rep- 
resents them  as  inhabiting  various  parts  of  tbe  country. 
Some  leading  a  roving  life  about  the  plains,  living  in  tents 


486  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

like  the  Arabs ;  others  having  castles  and  strongholds  in  the 
mountains;  others,  very  troglodytes,  infesting  the  dens  and 
caves  of  Mount  Atlas,  and  others  wandering  on  the  borders  of 
the  Libyan  desert. 

The  Gomeres  were  also  a  valiant  and  warlike  tribe ;  inhabit- 
ing the  mountains  of  the  lesser  Atlas,  in  Mauritania,  bordering 
the  frontiers  of  Ceuta,  while  the  Muzamudas  lived  in  the  more 
western  part  of  that  extreme  province,  where  the  great  Atlas 
advances  into  the  Atlantic  Ocean. 

In  the  eighty-third  year  of  the  Hegira,  Musa  made  one  of  his 
severest  campaigns  against  a  combined  force  of  these  Berber 
tribes,  collected  under  the  banners  of  their  several  princes. 
They  had  posted  themselves  in  one  of  the  fastnesses  of  the  Atlas 
mountains,  to  which  the  only  approach  was  through  different 
gorges  and  denies.  All  these  were  defended  with  great  ob- 
stinacy, but  were  carried,  one  after  the  other,  after  several 
days  of  severe  fighting. 

The  armies  at  length  found  themselves  in  presence  of  each 
other,  when  a  general  conflict  was  unavoidable.  As  they 
were  drawn  out,  regarding  each  other  with  menacing  aspect,  a 
Berber  chief  advanced,  and  challenged  any  one  of  the  Moslem 
cavaliers  to  single  combat.  There  was  a  delay  in  answering 
to  the  challenge ;  whereupon  Miisa  turned  to  his  son  Merwan, 
who  had  charge  of  the  banners,  and  told  him  to  meet  the  Berber 
warrior.  The  youth  handed  his  banner  to  his  brother,  xlbd'ala- 
ziz,  and  stepped  forward  with  alacrity.  The  Berber,  a  stark 
and  seasoned  warrior  of  the  mountains,  regarded  with  surprise 
and  almost  scorn  an  opponent  scarce  arrived  at  manhood. 
"Return  to  the  camp, "  cried  he ;  "  I  would  not  deprive  thine 
aged  father  of  so  comely  a  son."  Merwan  replied  but  with  his 
weapon,  assailing  his  adversary  so  vigorously  tbat  he  retreated 
and  sprang  upon  his  horse.  He  now  urged  his  steed  upon  the 
youth,  and  made  a  thrust  at  him  with  a  javelin,  but  Merwan 
seized  the  weapon  with  one  hand,  and  with  the  other  thrust 
his  own  javelin  through  the  Berber's  side,  burying  it  in  the 
flanks  of  the  steed;  so  that  both  horse  and  rider  were  brought 
to  the  ground  and  slain. 

The  two  armies  now  closed  in  a  general  struggle;  it  was 
bloody  and  desperate,  but  endpd  in  the  complete  defeat  of  the 
Berbers.  Kasleyah,  their  king,  fell  fighting  to  the  last.  A 
vast  number  of  captives  were  taken ;  among  them  were  many 
beautiful  maidens,  daughters  of  princes  and  military  chiefs. 
At  the  division  of  the  spoil,  Musa  caused  these  high-born  dam- 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  487 

sels  to  stand  before  him,  and  bade  Merwan,  his  son,  who  had 
so  recently  distinguished  himself,  to  choose  among  them.  The 
youth  chose  one  who  was  a  daughter  of  the  late  king  Kasleyah. 
She  appeai-s  to  have  found  solace  for  the  loss  of  her  father  in 
the  arms  of  a  youthful  husband;  and  ultimately  made  Merwan 
the  father  of  two  sons,  Musa  and  Abd'almalee. 


CHAPTER  LYI. 


NAVAL  ENTERPRISES  OF  MUSA — CRUISINGS   OF  HIS  SON  ABDOLOLA 
—DEATH   OF  ABD'ALMALEC. 

The  bold  and  adventurous  spirit  of  Musa  Ibn  Nosseyr  was 
not  content  with  victories  on  land.  ' '  Always  endeavor  to  do 
more  than  is  expected  of  thee,"  was  his  maxim,  and  he  now 
aspired  to  achieve  triumphs  on  the  sea.  He  had  ports  within 
his  province,  whence  the  Phoenicians  and  Carthaginians,  in 
the  clays  of  their  power,  had  fitted  out  maritime  enterprises. 
Why  should  he  not  do  the  same? 

The  feelings  of  the  Arab  conquerors  had  widely  changed  in 
regard  to  naval  expeditions.  When  Amru.  the  conqueror  of 
Egypt,  was  at  Alexandria,  the  Caliph  Omar  rsquired  of  him  a 
description  of  the  Mediterranean.  "  It  is  a  great  pool,"  replied 
Amru,  u  which  some  foolhardy  people  furrow;  looking  bike 
ants  on  logs  of  wood. "  The  answer  was  enough  for  Omar,  who 
was  always  apprehensive  that  the  Moslems  would  endanger 
their  conquests  by  rashly-extended  enterprises.  He  forhade 
all  maritime  expeditions.  Perhaps  he  feared  that  the  inexpe- 
rience of  the  Arabs  would  expose  them  to  defeat  from  the 
Franks  and  Romans,  who  were  practised  navigators. 

Moawyah,  however,  as  we  have  shown,  more  confident  of 
the  Moslem  capacity  for  nautical  warfare,  had  launched  the 
banner  of  Islam  on  the  sea  from  the  ancient  ports  of  Tyre  and 
Si  don,  and  had  scoured  the  eastern  waters  of  the  Mediterra- 
nean. The  Moslems  now  had  armaments  in  various  ports  of 
Syria  and  Egypt,  and  warred  with  the  Christians  by  sea  as 
well  as  by  land.  Abd'almalec  had  even  ordered  Musa's  prede- 
cessor, Hossan,  to  erect  an  arsenal  at  Tunis ;  Musa  now  under- 
took to  carry  those  orders  into  effect,  to  found  dock-yards,  and 
to  build  a  fleet  for  his  proposed  enterprise. 


488  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

At  thb  outset  he  was  surrounded  by  those  sage  doubters  who 
are  ever  ready  to  chill  the  ardor  of  enterprise.  They  pro- 
nounced the  scheme  rash  and  impracticable.  A  gray-headed 
Berber,  who  had  been  converted  to  Islam,  spoke  in  a  different 
tone.  "lam  one  hundred  and  twenty  years  old,"  said  he, 
"  and  I  well  remember  hearing  my  father  say,  that  when  the 
Lord  of  Carthage  thought  of  building  his  city,  the  people  all, 
as  at  present,  exclaimed  against  it  as  impracticable ;  one  alone 
rose  and  said,  Oh  king,  put  thy  hand  to  the  work  and  it  will  be 
achieved;  for  the  kings,  thy  predecessors,  persevered  and 
achieved  every  thing  they  undertook,  whatever  might  be  the 
difficulty.  And  I  say  to  thee,  Oh  emir,  put  thy  hand  to  this 
work,  and  God  will  help  thee !" 

Musa  did  put  his  hand  to  the  work,  and  so  effectually  that 
by  the  conclusion  of  the  eighty-fourth  year  of  the  Hegira,  a.d. 
703,  the  arsenal  and  dock-yard  were  complete,  and  furnished 
with  maritime  stores,  and  there  was  a  numerous  fleet  in  the 
port  of  Tunis. 

About  this  time  a  Moslem  fleet,  sent  by  Abd'alaziz,  the  emir 
of  Egypt,  to  make  a  ravaging  descent  on  the  coast  of  Sardinia, 
entered  the  port  of  Susa,  which  is  between  Caerwan  and  Tunis. 
Musa  sent  provisions  to  the  fleet,  but  wrote  to  the  commander, 
Atta  Ibn  Eafi,  cautioning  him  that  the  season  was  too  late  for 
his  enterprise,  and  advising  him  to  remain  in  port  until  more 
favorable  time  and  weather. 

Atta  treated  his  letter  with  contempt,  as  the  advice  of  a 
landsman;  and,  having  refitted  his  vessels,  put  to  sea.  He 
landed  on  an  island,  called  by  the  Arab  writers  Salsalah, 
probably  Linosa  or  Lampedosa;  made  considerable  booty  of 
gold,  silver  and  precious  stones,  and  again  set  sail  on  his 
plundering  cruise.  A  violent  storm  arose,  his  ships  were 
dashed  on  the  rocky  coast  of  Africa,  and  he  and  nearly  all  his 
men  were  drowned. 

Musa,  hearing  of  the  disaster,  dispatched  his  son,  Abd'alaziz, 
witli  a  troop  of  horse  to  the  scene  of  the  shipwreck,  to  render 
all  the  assistance  in  his  power,  ordering  that  the  vessels  and 
crews  which  survived  the  storm  should  repair  to  the  port  of 
Tunis ;  all  which  was  done.  At  the  place  ofthe  wreck  Abd'al- 
aziz found  a  heavy  box  cast  up  on  the  sea-shore;  on  being 
opened,  its  contents  proved  to  be  the  share  of  spoil  of  one  of 
the  warriors  of  the  fleet  who  had  perished  in  the  sea. 

The  author  of  the  tradition  from  which  these  facts  are 
gleaned,  adds,  that  one  day  he  found  an  old  man  sitting  on  the 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSOES.  4S9 

sea-shore  with  a  reed  in  his  hand,  which  he  attempted  to  take 
from  him.  A  scuffle  ensued;  he  wrested  the  reed  from  his 
hands,  and  struck  him  with  it  over  his  head;  when  lo,  it 
broke,  and  out  fell  gold  coins  and  pearls  and  precious  stones. 
Whether  the  old  man,  thus  hardly  treated,  was  one  of  the 
wrecked  cruisers,  or  a  wrecker  seeking  to  profit  by  their  mis- 
fortunes, is  not  specified  in  the  tradition.  The  anecdote  shows 
in  what  a  random  way  the  treasures  of  the  earth  were  in  those 
days  scattered  about  the  world  by  the  predatory  hosts  of 
Islam. 

The  surviving  ships  having  been  repaired,  and  added  to  those 
recently  built  at  Tunis,  and  the  season  having  become  favora- 
ble, Musa,  early  in  the  eighty-tif th  year  of  the  Hegira,  declared 
his  intention  to  undertake,  in  person,  a  naval  expedition. 
There  was  a  universal  eagerness  among  the  troops  to  embark ; 
Musa  selected  about  a  thousand  of  the  choicest  of  his  warriors, 
especially  those  of  rank  and  family,  so  that  the  enterprise  was 
afterward  designated  The  Expedition  of  the  Nobles.  He  did 
not,  however,  accompany  it  as  he  had  promised ;  he  had  done  so 
merely  to  enlist  his  bravest  men  in  the  undertaking;  the  com- 
mand was  given  to  his  son  Abdoiola,  to  give  him  an  opportu- 
nity to  distinguish  himself;  for  the  reputation  of  his  sons  was 
as  dear  to  Musa  as  his  own. 

It  was,  however,  a  mere  predatory  cruise;  a  type  of  the  rav- 
aging piracies  from  the  African  ports  in  after  ages.  Abdoiola 
coasted  the  fair  island  of  Sicily  with  his  ships,  landed  on  the 
western  side  and  plundered  a  city,  which  yielded  such  abun- 
dant spoil  that  each  of  the  thousand  men  embarked  in  the 
cruise  received  one  hundred  dinars  of  gold  for  his  share.  This 
done,  the  fleet  returned  to  Africa. 

Soon  after  the  return  of  his  ships,  Musa  received  news  of  the 
death  of  his  patron  Abd'alaziz,  which  was  followed  soon  after 
by  tidings  of  the  death  of  the  Caliph.  On  hearing  of  the  death 
of  the  latter,  Musa  immediately  sent  a  messenger  to  Damascus 
to  take  the  oath  of  allegiance,  in  his  name,  to  the  new  Caliph ; 
to  inform  him  of  the  naval  achievements  of  his  son  Abdoiola, 
and  to  deliver  to  him  his  share  of  the  immense  booty  gained. 
The  effect  of  course  was  to  secure  his  continuance  in  office  as 
emir  of  Africa. 

The  malady  which  terminated  in  the  death  of  Abd'almalec  is 
supposed  to  have  been  the  dropsy.  It  was  attended  in  its  last 
stages  with  excessive  thirst,  which  was  aggravated  by  the  pro- 
hibition of  his  physicians  that  any  water  should  be  given  to 


490  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

him,  lest  it  should  cause  certain  death.  In  the  paroxysms  of 
his  malady  the  expiring  Caliph  demanded  water  of  his  son 
Waled;  it  was  withheld  through  filial  piety.  His  daughter 
Fatima  approached  with  a  flagon,  but  Waled  interfered  and 
prevented  her ;  whereupon  the  Caliph  threatened  him  with  dis- 
inheritance and  his  malediction.  Fatima  handed  to  him  the 
flagon,  he  drained  it  at  a  draught,  and  almost  instantly  ex- 
pired. He  was  about  sixty  years  old  at  the  time  of  his  death, 
and  had  reigned  about  twenty  years.  Abulfeda  gives  him  a 
character  for  learning,  courage,  and  foresight.  He  certainly 
showed  ability  and  management  in  reuniting,  under  his  sway, 
the  dismembered  portions  of  the  Moslem  empire,  and  quelling 
the  various  sects  that  rose  in  arms  against  him.  His  foresight 
with  regard  to  his  family  also  was  crowned  with  success,  as 
four  of  his  sons  succeeded  him,  severally,  in  the  Caliphat. 

He  evinced  an  illiberal  spirit  of  hostility  to  the  memory  of 
Ali,  carrying  it  to  such  a  degree  that  he  would  not  permit  the 
poet  Ferazdak  to  celebrate  in  song  the  virtues  of  any  of  his 
descendants.  Perhaps  this  may  have  gained  for  Abd'almalec 
another  by-name  with  which  some  of  the  Arab  writers  have 
signalized  his  memory,  calling  him  the  "Father  of  Flies;"  for 
so  potent,,  say  they,  was  his  breath,  that  any  fly  which  alighted 
on  his  lips  died  on  the  spot. 


CHAPTER  LVII. 


INAUGURATION  OF  WALED,  TWELFTH  CALIPH— REVIVAL  OF  THE 
ARTS  UNDER  HIS  REIGN— HIS  TASTE  FOR  ARCHITECTURE- 
ERECTION   OF  MOSQUES— CONQUESTS  OF  HIS  GENERALS. 

Waled,  the  eldest  son  of  Abd'almalec,  was  proclaimed 
Caliph  at  Damascus  immediately  on  the  death  of  his  father,  in 
the  eighty-sixth  year  of  the  Hegira,  and  the  year  705  of  the 
Christian  era.  He  was  about  thirty-eight  years  of  age,  and  is 
described  as  being  tall  and  robust,  with  a  swarthy  complexion, 
a  face  much  pitted  with  the  smallpox,  and" a  broad  flat  nose; 
in  other  respects,  which  are  left  to  our  conjecture,  he  is  said  to 
have  been  of  a  good  countenance.  His  habits  were  indolent 
and  voluptuous,  yet  he  was  of  a  choleric  temper,  and  some- 
what inclined  to  cruelty. 


MAHOMET  AND  MS  SUCCESSORS.  491 

During  the  reign  of  Waled  the  arts  began  to  develop  them- 
selves under  the  Moslem  sway ;  finding  a  more  genial  home  in 
the  luxurious  city  of  Damascus  than  they  had  done  in  the  holy 
cities  of  Mecca  or  Medina.  Foreign  conquests  had  brought  the 
Arabs  in  contact  with  the  Greeks  and  the  Persians.  Inter- 
course with  them,  and  residence  in  their  cities,  bad  gradually 
refined  away  the  gross  habits  of  the  desert;  had  awakened 
thirst  for  the  sciences,  and  a  relish  for  the  elegancies  of  culti- 
vated life.  Little  skilled  in  the  principles  of  government, 
accustomed  in  their  native  deserts  to  the  patriarchal  rule  of 
separate  tribes,  without  any  extended  scheme  of  policy  or 
combined  system  of  union,  the  Arabs,  suddenly  masters  of  a 
vast  and  continually  widening  empire,  had  to  study  the  art  of 
governing  in  the  political  institutions  of  the  countries  they 
conquered.  Persia,  the  best  organized  monarchy  in  Asia,  held 
out  a  model  by  which  they  were  fain  to  profit ;  and  in  their 
system  of  emirs  vested  wTith  the  sway  of  distant  and  powerful 
provinces,  but  strictly  responsible  to  the  Caliph,  we  see  a  copy 
of  the  satraps  or  viceroys,  the  provincial  depositaries  of  the 
power  of  the  Khosrus. 

Since  Moawyah  had  moved  the  seat  of  the  Caliph  at  to 
Damascus,  a  change  had  come  over  the  style  of  the  Moslem 
court.  It  was  no  longer,  as  in  the  days  of  Omar,  the  confer- 
ence of  a  poorly  clad  Arab  chieftain  with  his  veteran  warriors 
and  gray -beard  companions,  seated  on  their  mats  in  the  corner 
of  a  mosque:  the  Moslem  Caliph  at  Damascus  had  now  his 
divan,  in  imitation  of  the  Persian  monarch;  and  his  palace  be- 
gan to  assume  somewhat  of  oriental  state  and  splendor. 

In  nothing  had  the  Moslem  conquerors  showed  more  igno- 
rance of  affairs  than  in  financial  matters.  The  vast  spoils 
acquired  in  their  conquests,  and  the  tribute  and  taxes  imposed 
on  subjugated  countries,  had  for  a  time  been  treated  like  the 
chance  booty  caught  up  in  predatory  expeditions  in  the  des- 
erts. They  were  amassed  in  public  treasuries  without  register 
or  account,  and  shared  and  apportioned  without  judgment, 
and  often  without  honesty.  Hence  continual  frauds  and 
peculations;  hence  those  charges,  so  readily  brought  and 
readily  believed,  against  generals  and  governors  in  distant 
stations,  of  enormous  frauds  and  embezzlements,  and  hence 
that  grasping  avarice,  that  avidity  of  spoil  and  treasure,  which 
were  more  and  more  destroying  the  original  singleness  of  pur- 
pose of  the  soldiers  of  Islam. 

Moawyah  was  the  first  of  the  Caliphs  who  ordered  that 


492  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

registers  of  tribute  and  taxes,  as  well  as  of  spoils,  should  be 
kept  in  the  Islamite  countries,  in  their  respective  languages ; 
that  is  to  say,  in  the  Greek  language  in  Syria,  and  in  the  Per- 
sian language  in  Irak;  but  Abd'almalec  went  further,  and 
ordered  that  they  should  all  be  kept  in  Arabic.  Nothing,  how- 
ever, could  effectually  check  the  extortion  and  corruption 
which  was  prevailing  more  and  more  in  the  administration  of 
the  conquered  provinces.  Even  the  rude  Arab  soldier,  who  in 
his  desert  would  have  been  content  with  his  tent  of  hair-cloth, 
now  aspired  to  the  possession  of  fertile  lands,  or  a  residence 
amid  the  voluptuous  pleasures  of  the  city. 

Waled  had  grown  up  amid  the  refinements  and  corruptions 
of  the  transplanted  Caliphat.  He  was  more  of  a  Greek  and 
Persian  than  an  Arab  in  his  tastes,  and  the  very  opposite  of 
that  primitive  Moslem,  Omar,  in  most  of  his  habitudes.  On 
assuming  the  sovereign  power  he  confirmed  all  the  emirs  or 
governors  of  provinces,  and  also  the  generals  appointed  by  his 
father.  On  these  he  devolved  all  measures  of  government  and 
warlike  duties ;  for  himself,  he  led  a  soft,  luxurious  life  amidst 
the  delights  of  his  harem.  Yet,  though  he  had  sixty-three 
wives,  he  does  not  appear  to  have  left  any  issue.  Much  of  his 
time  was  devoted  to  the  arts,  and  especially  the  art  of  archi- 
tectaire,  in  which  he  left  some  noble  monuments  to  perpetuate 
his  fame. 

He  caused  the  principal  mosque  at  Cairo  to  be  demolished, 
and  one  erected  of  greater  majesty,  the  pillars  of  which  had 
gilded  capitals.  He  enlarged  and  beautified  the  grand  mosque 
erected  on  the  site  of  the  temple  of  Solomon,  for  he  was  anx- 
ious to  perpetuate  the  pilgrimage  to  Jerusalem  established  by 
his  father.  He  gave  command  that  the  bounds  of  the  mosque 
at  Medina  should  be  extended  so  as  to  include  the  tomb  of  the 
prophet,  and  the  nine  mansions  of  his  wives.  He  furthermore 
ordered  that  all  the  buildings  round  the  Caaba  at  Mecca 
should  be  thrown  down,  and  a  magnificent  quadrangular 
mosque  erected,  such  as  is  to  be  seen  at  the  present  day.  For 
this  purpose  he  sent  a  body  of  skilful  Syrian  architects  from 
Damascus. 

Many  of  the  faithful  were  grieved,  particularly  those  well 
stricken  in  years,  the  old  residents  of  Mecca,  to  see  the  ancient 
simplicity  established  by  the  prophet,  violated  by  the  splendor 
of  this  edifice,  especially  as  the  dwellings  of  numerous  indi- 
viduals were  demolished  to  furnish  a  vast  square  for  the 
foundations  of  the  new  edifice,  which  now  inclosed  within  its 


MAHOMET  AND  UIS  SUCCESSORS.  493 

circuit  the  Caaba,  the  well  of  Zem  Zem,  and  the  stations  of 
different  sects  of  Moslems  which  came  in  pilgrimage. 

All  these  works  were  carried  on  under  the  supervision  of 
his  emirs,  but  the  Caliph  attended  in  person  to  the  erection  of 
a  grand  mosque  in  his  capital  of  Damascus.  In  making  ar- 
rangements for  this  majestic  pile  he  cast  his  eyes  on  the 
superb  church  of  St.  John  the  Baptist,  which  had  been  em- 
behished  by  the  Roman  emperors  during  successive  ages,  and 
enriched  with  the  bones  and  relics  of  saints  and  martyrs.  He 
offered  the  Christians  forty  thousand  dinars  of  gold  for  this 
holy  edifice ;  but  they  replied,  gold  was  of  no  value  in  com- 
parison with  the  sacred  bones  enshrined  within  its  walls. 

The  Caliph,  therefore,  took  possession  of  the  church  on  his 
own  authority,  and  either  demolished  or  altered  it  so  as  to  suit 
bis  purpose  in  the  construction  of  Ins  mosque,  and  did  not 
ellow  the  Christian  owners  a  single  dirhem  of  compensation. 
He  employed  twelve  thousand  workmen  constantly  in  this 
architectural  enterprise,  and  one  of  his  greatest  regrets  in  his 
last  moments  was  that  he  should  not  live  to  see  it  completed. 

The  architecture  of  these  mosques  was  a  mixture  of  Greek 
and  Persian,  and  gave  rise  to  the  Saracenic  style,  of  which 
Waled  may  be  said  to  be  founder.  The  slender  and  graceful 
palm-tree  may  have  served  as  a  model  for  its  columns,  as  the 
clustering  trees  and  umbrageous  forests  of  the  north  are 
thought  to  have  thrown  their  massive  forms  and  shadowy 
glooms  into  Gothic  architecture.  These  two  kinds  of  archi- 
tecture have  often  been  confounded,  but  the  Saracenic  takes 
the  precedence;  the  Gothic  borrowed  graces  and  embellish- 
ments from  it  in  the  times  of  the  Crusades. 

While  the  Caliph  Waled  lived  indolently  and  voluptuously 
at  Damascus,  or  occupied  himself  in  erecting  mosques,  his  gen- 
erals extended  his  empire  in  various  directions.  Moslema  Ibn 
Abd'almalec,  one  of  his  fourteen  brothers,  led  an  army  into  Asia 
Minor,  invaded  Cappadocia,  and  laid  siege  to  Tyana,  a  strong 
city  garrisoned  with  imperial  troops.  It  was  so  closely  in- 
vested that  it  could  receive  no  provisions;  but  the  besiegers 
were  equally  in  want  of  supplies.  The  contest  was  fierce  on 
both  sides,  for  both  were  sharpened  and  irritated  by  hunger, 
and  it  became  a  contest  which  could  hold  out  longest  against 
famine. 

The  duration  of  the  siege  enabled  the  emperor  to  send  rein- 
forcements to  the  place,  but  they  were  raw,  undisciplined  re- 
cruits, who  were  routed  by  the  hungry  Moslems,  their  camp 


404  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

captured,  and  their  provisions  greedily  devoured.  The  defeat 
of  these  reinforcements  rendered  the  defence  of  the  city  hope- 
less, and  the  pressure  of  famine  hastened  a  capitulation,  the 
besieged  not  being  aware  that  the  besiegers  were  nearly  as 
much  famished  as  themselves.  Moslema  is  accused  by  Chris- 
tian writers  of  having  violated  the  conditions  of  surrender; 
many  of  the  inhabitants  were  driven  forth  into  the  deserts, 
and  many  of  the  remainder  were  taken  for  slaves.  In  a  sub- 
sequent year  Moslema  made  a  successful  incursion  into  Pontu9 
and  Armenia,  a  great  part  of  which  he  subjugated,  and  took 
the  city  of  Amasia,  after  a  severely  contested  siege.  He  after- 
ward made  a  victorious  campaign  into  Galatia,  ravaging  the 
whole  province,  and  bearing  away  rich  spoils  and  numerous 
captives. 

While  Moslema  was  thus  bringing  Asia  Minor  into  subjec- 
tion, his  son  Khatiba,  a  youth  of  great  bravery,  was  no  less 
successful  in  extending  the  empire  of  the  faith  toward  the  East. 
Appointed  to  the  government  of  Khorassan,  he  did  not  content 
himself  with  attending  to  the  affairs  of  his  own  province,  but 
crossing  the  Oxus,  ravaged  the  provinces  of  Turkistan,  de- 
feated a  great  army  of  Turks  and  Tartars,  by  which  he  had 
been  beleaguered  and  reduced  to  great  straits,  and  took  the 
capital  city  of  Bochara,  with  many  others  of  inferior  note. 

He  defeated  also  Magourek,  the  Khan  of  Charism,  and  drove 
him  to  take  refuge  in  the  great  city  of  Samarcand.  This  city, 
anciently  called  Marcanda,  was  one  of  the  chief  marts  of  Asia, 
as  well  for  the  wares  imported  from  China  and  Tangut  across 
the  desert  of  Cobi,  as  of  those  brought  through  the  mountains 
of  the  great  Thibet,  and  those  conveyed  from  India  to  the  Cas- 
pian Sea.  It  was,  therefore,  a  great  resort  and  resting-place 
for  caravans  from  all  quarters.  The  surrounding  country  was 
renowned  throughout  the  East  for  fertility,  and  ranked  among 
the  paradises  or  gardens  of  Asia. 

To  this  city  Khatiba  laid  siege,  but  tbe  inhabitants  set  him  at 
defiance,  being  confident  of  the  strength  of  their  walls,  and 
aware  that  the  Arabs  had  no  battering-rams,  nor  other  engines 
necessary  for  the  attack  of  fortified  places.  A  long  and  close 
siege,  however,  reduced  the  garrison  to  great  extremity,  and 
finding  that  the  besiegers  were  preparing  to  carry  the  place  by 
storm,  they  capitulated,  agreeing  to  pay  an  annual  tribute  of 
one  thousand  dinars  of  gold  and  three  thousand  slaves. 

Khatiba  erected  a  magnificent  mosque  in  that  metropolis, 
and  officiated  personally  in  expounding  the  doctrines  of  Islam, 


MAHOMET  AND  ITIS  SUCCESSORS.  405 

which  began  soon  to  supersede  the  religion  of  the  Magians  or 
Ghebers. 

Extensive  victories  were  likewise  achieved  in  India  during 
the  reign  of  Waled,  by  Mohamed  Ibn  Casern,  a  native  of 
Thayef,  one  of  his  generals,  who  conquered  the  kingdom  of 
Sindia,  or  Sinde,  killed  its  sovereign  in  battle,  and  sent  his 
head  to  the  Caliph;  overran  a  great  part  of  Central  India,  and 
first  planted  the  standard  of  Islam  on  the  banks  of  the  Ganges, 
the  sacred  river  of  the  Hindoos. 


CHAPTER  LVTII. 

FURTHER  TRIUMPHS  OF  MUSA  IBN  NOSSEYR— NAVAL  ENTERPRISES 
— DESCENTS  IN  SICILY,  SARDINIA,  AND  MALLORCA — INVASION 
OF  TINGITANIA— PROJECTS  FOR  THE  INVASION  OF  SPAIN— CON- 
CLUSION. 

To  return  to  affairs  in  Africa.  During  the  first  years  of  the 
Caliphat  of  Waled  the  naval  armaments  fitted  out  by  Musa  in 
the  ports  of  Eastern  Africa  continued  to  scour  the  Mediterra- 
nean and  carry  terror  and  devastation  into  its  islands.  One  of 
tbem  coasted  the  island  of  Sicily  in  the  eigbty-sixth  year  of 
the  Hegira,  and  attacked  the  city  of  Syracuse ;  but  the  object 
appears  to  bave  been  mere  plunder,  not  to  retain  possession. 
Another  ravaged  the  island  of  Sardinia,  sacked  its  cities,  and 
brought  off  a  vast  number  of  prisoners  and  immense  booty. 
Among  the  captives  were  Christian  women  of  great  beauty, 
and  highly  prized  in  the  Eastern  harems.  The  command  of 
the  sea  was  ultimately  given  by  Musa  to  his  son  Abdolola,  who 
added  to  his  nautical  reputation  by  a  descent  upon  the  island 
of  Mallorca. 

While  Abdolola  was  rejoicing  his  father's  heart  by  exploits 
and  triumphs  on  the  sea,  Abd'alaziz  contributed  no  less  to  his 
pride  and  exultation  by  his  achievements  on  land.  Aided  by 
this  favorite  son,  Musa  carried  the  terror  of  the  Moslem  arms 
to  the  western  extremity  of  Mount  Atlas,  subduing  Fez,  Du- 
quella,  Morocco,  and  Sus.  The  valiant  tribes  of  the  Zenetes  at 
length  made  peace,  and  entered  into  compact  with  him ;  from 
other  tribes  Musa  took  hostages,  and  by  degrees  the  sway  of 
the  Caliph  was  established  throughout  western  Almagreb  to 
Cape  Non  on  the  Atlantic. 


490  MAHOMET  AND  niS  SUCCESSORS. 

Musa  was  not  a  ferocious  conqueror.  The  countries  sub- 
jected by  his  arms  became  objects  of  his  paternal  care.  He 
introduced  law  and  order,  instructed  the  natives  in  the  doc- 
trines of  Islam,  and  defended  the  peaceful  cultivators  of  the 
fields  and  residents  in  the  cities  against  the  incursions  of  pre- 
datory tribes.  In  return  they  requited  his  protection  by  con- 
tributing their  fruits  and  flocks  to  the  support  of  the  armies, 
and  furnishing  steeds  matchless  for  speed  and  beauty. 

One  region,  however,  yet  remained  to  be  subjugated  before 
the  conquest  of  Northern  Africa  would  be  complete;  the 
ancient  Tingis,  or  Tingitania,  the  northern  extremity  of  Alma- 
greb.  Here  the  continent  of  Africa  protruded  boldly  to  meet 
the  continent  of  Europe;  a  narrow  strait  intervened— the  strait 
of  Hercules,  the  gate  of  the  Mediterranean  Sea.  Two  rocky 
promontories  appeared  to  guard  it  on  each  side,  the  far-famed 
pillars  of  Hercules.  Two  rock-built  cities,  Ceuta  and  Tangiers, 
on  the  African  coast,  were  the  keys  of  this  gate,  and  con- 
trolled the  neighboring  sea-board.  These  had  been  held  in 
ancient  times  by  the  Berber  kings,  who  made  this  region  their 
stronghold,  and  Tangiers  their  seat  of  power;  but  the  keys 
had  been  wrested  from  their  hands  at  widely-separated  peri- 
ods, first  by  the  Vandals,  and  afterward  by  the  Goths,  the 
conquerors  of  the  opposite  country  of  Spain ;  and  the  Gothic 
Spaniards  had  now  held  military  possession  for  several  genera- 
tions. 

Musa  seems  to  have  reserved  this  province  for  his  last  Afri- 
can campaign.  He  stationed  his  son  Merwan,  with  ten  thou- 
sand men,  in  a  fortified  camp  on  the  frontier,  while  Taric  Ibn 
Zeyad,  a  veteran  general  scarred  in  many  a  battle,  scoured  the 
country  from  the  fountains  or  head  waters  of  the  river  Mo- 
luya  to  the  mountains  of  Aldaran.  The  province  was  bravely 
defended  by  a  Gothic  noble,  Count  Julian  by  name,  but  he 
was  gradually  driven  to  shut  himself  up  in  Ceuta.  Meantime 
Tangiers  yielded  to  the  Moslem  arms  after  an  obstinate  de- 
fence, and  was  strongly  garrisoned  by  Arab  and  Egyptian 
troops,  and  the  command  given  to  Taric.  An  attempt  was 
made  to  convert  the  Christian  inhabitants  to  the  faith  of  Is- 
lam ;  the  Berber  part  easily  conformed,  but  the  Gothic  persisted 
in  unbelief,  and  rather  than  give  up  their  "religion,  abandoned 
their  abodes,  and  crossed  over  to  Andaluz  with  the  loss  of  all 
their  property. 

Musa  now  advanced  upon  Ceuta,  into  which  Count  Julian 


MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS.  497 

had  drawn  all  his  troops.  He  attempted  to  carry  it  by  storm, 
but  was  gallantly  repulsed,  with  the  loss  of  many  of  his  best 
troops.  Eepeated  assaults  were  made  with  no  better  success ; 
the  city  was  situated  on  a  promontory,  and  strongly  fortified. 
Musa  now  laid  lvaste  the  surrounding  country,  thinking  to  re- 
duce the  place  by  famine,  but  the  proximity  of  Spain  enabled 
the  garrison  to  receive  supplies  and  reinforcements  across  the 
straits. 

Months  were  expended  in  this  protracted  and  unavailing 
siege.  According  to  some  accounts  Musa  retired  personally 
from  the  attempt,  and  returned  to  his  seat  of  government  at 
Caerwan,  leaving  the  army  and  province  in  charge  of  his  son 
Merwan  and  Taric  in  command  of  Tangiers. 

And  now  occurred  one  of  the  most  memorable  pieces  of  trea- 
son in  history.  Count  Julian,  who  had  so  nobly  defended  his 
post  and  checked  the  hitherto  irresistible  arms  of  Islam,  all  at 
once  made  secret  offers,  not  merely  to  deliver  up  Ceuta  to  the 
Moslem  commander,  but  to  betray  Andaluz  itself  into  his 
hands.  The  country  he  represented  as  rife  for  a  revolt  against 
Eoderick,  the  Gothic  king,  who  was  considered  a  usurper ;  and 
he  offered  to  accompany  and  aid  the  Moslems  in  a  descent 
upon  the  coast,  where  he  had  numerous  friends  ready  to  flock 
to  his  standard. 

Of  the  private  wrongs  received  by  Count  Julian  from  his  so- 
vereign, which  provoked  him  to  this  stupendous  act  of  treason, 
we  shall  here  say  nothing.  Musa  was  startled  by  his  proposi- 
tion. He  had  long  cast  a  wistful  eye  at  the  mountains  of  An- 
daluz, brightening  beyond  the  strait,  but  hitherto  the  conquest 
of  Northern  Africa  had  tasked  all  his  means.  Even  now  he 
feared  to  trust  too  readily  to  a  man  whose  very  proposition 
showed  an  utter  want  of  faith.  He  determined,  therefore,  to 
dispatch  Taric  Ibn  Zeyad  on  a  reconnoitering  expedition  to 
coast  the  opposite  shores,  accompanied  by  Count  Julian,  and 
ascertain  the  truth  of  his  representations. 

Taric  accordingly  embarked  with  a  few  hundred  men  in  four 
merchant  vessels,  crossed  the  straits  under  the  guidance  of 
Count  Julian,  who,  on  landing,  dispatched  emissaries  to  his 
friends  and  adherents,  siimmoning  them  to  a  conference  at 
Jesirah  al  Khadra,  or  the  Green  Island,  now  Algeziras.  Here, 
in  presence  of  Taric,  they  confirmed  all  that  Julian  had  said  of 
the  rebellious  disposition  of  the  country,  and  of  their  own 
readiness  to  join  the  standard  of  an  invader.    A  plundering 


408  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS. 

cruise  along  the  coast  convinced  Taric  of  the  wealth  of  the 
country,  and  he  returned  to  the  African  shores  with  amnio 
spoils  and  female  captives  of  great  beauty. 

A  new  career  of  conquest  seemed  thus  opening  upon  Musa. 
His  predecessor,  Acbah,  had  spurred  his  steed  into  the  waves 
of  the  Atlantic,  and  sighed  that  there  were  no  further  lands  to 
conquer;  but  here  was  another  quarter  of  the  world  inviting 
the  triumphs  of  Islam.  He  forthwith  wrote  to  the  Caliph, 
giving  a  glowing  account  of  the  country  thus  held  out  for  con- 
quest ;  a  country  abounding  in  noble  monuments  and  wealthy 
cities ;  rivalling  Syria  in  the  fertility  of  its  soil  and  the  beauty 
of  its  climate ;  Yemen,  or  Arabia  the  Happy,  ha  its  tempera- 
ture ;  India  in  its  flowers  and  spices ;  Hegiaz  in  its  fruits  and 
productions;  Cathay  in  its  precious  and  abundant  mines; 
Aden  in  the  excellence  of  its  ports  and  harbors.  "With  the 
aid  of  God,"  added  he,  "I  have  reduced  to  obedience  the  Zen- 
etes  and  the  other  Berber  tribes  of  Zab  and  Derar,  Zaara,  Ma- 
zamuda,  and  Sus:  the  standard  of  Islam  floats  triumphant  on 
the  walls  of  Tangiers ;  thence  to  the  opposite  coast  of  Andaluz 
is  but  a  space  of  twelve  miles.  Let  but  the  Commander  of  the 
Faithful  give  the  word,  and  the  conquerors  of  Africa  will  cross 
into  that  land,  there  to  carry  the  knowledge  of  the  true  God 
and  the  law  of  the  Koran." 

The  Arab  spirit  of  the  Caliph  was  roused  by  this  magnificent 
prospect  of  new  conquests.  Ho  called  to  mind  a  tradition  that 
Mahomet  had  promised  the  extension  of  his  law  to  the  utter- 
most regions  of  the  West ;  and  he  now  gave  full  authority  to 
Musa  to  proceed  in  his  pious  enterprise,  and  carry  the  sword 
of  Islam  into  the  benighted  land  of  Andaluz. 

We  have  thus  accomplished  our  self -allotted  task.  We  have 
set  forth,  in  simple  and  succinct  narrative,  a  certain  portion  of 
this  wonderful  career  of  fanatical  conquest.  We  have  traced 
the  progress  of  the  little  cloud  which  rose  out  of  the  deserts  of 
Arabia,  ' '  no  bigger  than  a  man's  hand, "  until  it  has  spread 
out  and  overshadowed  the  ancient  quarters  of  the  world  and 
all  their  faded  glories.  We  have  shown  the  handful  of  prose- 
lytes of  a  pseudo  prophet,  driven  from  city  to  city,  lurking  in 
dens  and  caves  of  the  earth ;  but  at  length  rising  to  be  leaders 
of  armies  and  mighty  conquerors ;  overcoming  in  pitched  bat- 
tle the  Roman  cohort,  the  Grecian  phalanx,  and  the  gorgeous 
hosts  of  Persia;  carrying  their  victories  from  the  gates  of  the 
Caucasus  to  the  western  descents  of  Mount  Atlas;  from  the 
banks  of  the  Ganges  to  the  Sus;  the  ultimate  river  in  Mauri- 


MAHOMET  AND  JUS  SUCCESSORS.  499 

tania;  and  now  planting  their  standard  on  the  pillars  of  Her- 
cules, and  threatening  Europe  with  like  subjugation. 

Here,  however,  we  stay  our  hand.  Here  we  lay  down  our 
pen.  Whether  it  will  ever  be  our  lot  to  resume  this  theme,  to 
cross  with  the  Moslem  hosts  the  strait  of  Hercules,  and  narrate 
their  memorable  conquest  of  Gothic  Spain,  is  one  of  those  un- 
certainties of  mortal  life  and  aspirations  of  literary  zeal  which 
beguile  us  with  agreeable  dreams,  but  too  often  end  in  disap- 
pointment. 


THE  END. 


MOORISH 


CHEONICLES. 


BY 


WASHINGTON    IRVING 


MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 


CONTENTS. 


CHEONICLE  OF  FERNAN  GONZALEZ. 

PAGE 

Introduction 7 

CHAPTER  I. 

Installation  of  Fernan  Gonzalez  as  Count  of  Castile. — His  first  campaign  against 
the  Moors. — Victoiy  of  San  Quirce. — How  the  Count  disposed  of  the  spoils 8 

CHAPTER  H. 

Of  the  sally  from  Burgos  and  surprise  of  the  castle  of  Lara. — Capitulation  of 
the  town.— Visit  to  Alfonso  the  Great,  King  of  Leon 11 

CHAPTER  m. 

Expedition  against  the  fortress  Mugnon. — Desperate  defence  of  the  Moors. — 
Enterprise  against  Castro  Xeriz 14 

CHAPTER  IV. 

How  the  Count  of  Castile  and  the  King  of  Leon  make  a  triumphant  foray  into 
the  Moorish  country.— Capture  of  Salamanca. — Of  the  challenge  brought  by 
the  Herald  and  of  the  Count's  defiance 15 

CHAPTER  V. 

A  night  assault  upon  the  castle  of  Carazo. — The  Moorish  maiden  who  betrayed 
the  garrison 16 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Death  of  Alfonso,  King  of  Leon. — The  Moors  determined  to  strike  a  fresh  blow 
at  the  Count,  who  summons  all  Castile  to  his  standard. — Of  his  hunt  in  the 
forest  while  waiting  for  the  enemy,  and  of  the  hermit  that  he  met  with 19 

CHAPTER  VH. 
The  battle  of  the  Ford  of  Cascajares 23 


4  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  Vni. 

PAGE 

Of  th3  message  sent  by  the  Count  to  Sancho  II.,  King  of  Navarre,  and  the  reply. 
— Their  encounter  in  battle 23 

CHAPTER  IX. 

How  the  Count  of  Toulouse  makes  a  campaign  against  Castile,  and  how  he  re- 
turns in  his  coffin 27 

CHAPTER  X. 

How  the  Count  went  to  receive  the  hand  of  a  Princess,  and  was  thrown  into  a 
dungeon  — Of  the  stranger  that  visited  him  in  his  chains,  and  of  the  appeal 
that  he  made  to  the  Princess  for  his  deliverance 28 

CHAPTER  XI. 

Or  the  meditations  of  the  Princess,  and  their  result.— Her  flight  from  the  prison 
with  the  Count,  and  perils  of  the  escape.— The  nuptials  30 

CHAPTER  XII. 

King  Garcia  confined  in  Burgos  by  the  Count. — The  Princess  intercedes  for  his 
release 34 

CHAPTER  Xin. 

Of  the  expedition  against  the  ancient  city  of  Sylo.— The  unwitting  trespass  of 
the  Count  into  a  convent,  and  his  compunction  thereupon  34 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Of  the  Moorish  host  that  came  up  from  Cordova,  and  how  the  Count  repaired 
to  the  hermitage  of  San  Pedro,  and  prayed  for  success  against  them,  and  re- 
ceived assurance  of  victory  in  a  vision.— Battle  of  Hazinas 36 

CHAPTER  XV. 

The  Count  imprisoned  by  the  King  of  Leon. — The  Countess  concerts  his  escape. 
—Leon  and  Castile  united  by  the  marriage  of  the  Prince  Ordoflo  with  Urraca, 
the  daughter  of  the  Count  by  his  first  wife 40 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

Moorish  incursion  into  Castile.— Battle  of  San  Estevan.— Of  Pascual  Vivas  and 
the  miracle  that  befell  him. — Death  of  Ordofio  ni 42 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

King  Sancho  the  Fat.  —Of  the  homage  he  exacted  from  Count  Fernan  Gonzalez, 
and  of  the  strange  bargain  that  he  made  with  him  for  the  purchase  of  his 
horse  and  falcon 46 

CHAPTER  XVIH. 
Further  of  the  horse  and  falcon .  .    48 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
The  last  campaign  of  Count  Fernan.— His  death 50 


CONTEXTS.  5 

CHRONICLE  OF  FERNANDO  THE  SAINT. 

CHAPTER  I. 

PAGE 

The  parentage  of  Fernando.— Queen  Berenguela.— The  Laras. — Don  Alvar  con- 
ceals the  death  of  King  Henry.— Mission  of  Queen  Berenguela  to  Alfonso  IX. 
— She  renounces  the  crown  of  Castile  in  favor  of  her  son  Fernando 55 

CHAPTER  II. 

King  Alfonso  of  Leon  ravages  Castile.— Captivity  of  Don  Alvar.— Death  of  the 
Laras 59 

CHAPTER  III. 

Marriage  of  King  Fernando.— Campaign  against  the  Moors.— Aben  Mohamed, 
King  of  Baeza,  declares  himself  the  vassal  of  King  Fernando. — They  march  to 
Jaen. — Burning  of  the  tower. — Fernando  commences  the  building  of  the 
cathedral  at  Toledo 63 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Assassination  of  Aben  Mohamed.— His  head  carried  as  a  present  to  Abullale,  the 
Moorish  King  of  Seville.— Advance  of  the  Christians  into  Andalusia.— Abullale 
purchases  a  truce 66 

CHAPTER  V. 

Aben  Hud. — Abullale  purchases  another  year's  truce.— Fernando  hears  of  the 
death  of  his  father,  the  King  of  Leon,  while  pressing  the  siege  of  Jaen. — He 
becomes  sovereign  of  the  two  kingdoms  of  Leon  and  Castile 68 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Expedition  of  the  Prince  Alonzo  against  the  Moors.— Encamps  on  the  banks  of 
the  Guadalete. — Aben  Hud  marches  out  from  Xerez,  and  gives  battle. — Prowess 
of  Garcia  Perez  de  Vargas. — Flight  and  pursuit  of  the  Moors.— Miracle  of  the 
blessed  Santiago 70 

CHAPTER  VII. 
A  bold  attempt  upon  Cordova,  the  seat  of  Moorish  power 75 

CHAPTER  VIH. 

A  spy  in  the  Christian  camp.— Death  of  Aben  Hud.— A  vital  blow  to  Moslem 
power.— Surrender  of  Cordova  to  King  Fernando 77 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Marriage  of  King  Fernando  to  the  Princess  Juana.— Famine  at  Cordova. — Don 
Alvar  Perez 81 

CHAPTER  X. 

Aben  Alhamar,  founder  of  the  Alhambra  —Fortifies  Granada  and  makes  it  his 
capital. — Attempts  to  surprise  the  castle  of  Martos. — Peril  of  the  fortress. — A 
woman's  stratagem  to  save  it. — Diego  Perez,  the  Smasher.— Death  of  Count 
Alvar  Perez  de  Castro 83 


6  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XI. 

PAGB 

Aben  Hudiel,  the  Moorish  King  of  Murcia,  becomes  the  vassal  of  King  Fernan- 
do — Aben  Alhamar  seeks  to  drive  the  Christians  out  of  Andalusia.— Fer- 
nando takes  the  field  against  him.— Ravages  of  the  king.— His  last  meeting 
with  the  queen-mother 8? 

CHAPTER  Xn. 

King  Fernando's  expedition  to  Andalusia.— Siege  of  Jaen.— Secret  departure  of 
Aben  Alhamar  for  the  Christian  camp.— He  acknowledges  himself  the  vassal 
of  the  king,  who  enters  Jaen  in  triumph 92 

CHAPTER  XIH. 

Axataf,  King  of  Seville,  exasperated  at  the  submission  of  the  King  of  Granada, 
rejects  the  propositions  of  King  Fernando  for  a  truce. — The  latter  is  en- 
couraged by  a  vision  to  undertake  the  conquest  of  the  city  of  Seville. — Death 
of  Queen  Berenguela. — A  diplomatic  marriage 94 

CHAPTER  XTV. 

Investment  of  Seville. — All  Spain  aroused  to  arms.— Surrender  of  Alcaladel  Rio. 
— The  fleet  of  Admiral  Ramon  Bonifaz  advances  up  the  Guadalquivir.— Don 
Pelayo  Correa,  Master  of  Santiago. — His  valorous  deeds,  and  the  miracles 
wrought  in  his  behalf 97 

CHAPTER  XV. 
King  Fernando  changes  his  camp. — Garci  Perez  and  the  seven  Moors 101 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

Of  the  raft  built  by  the  Moors,  and  how  it  was  boarded  by  Admiral  Bonifaz. — 
Destruction  of  the  Moorish  fleet.— Succor  from  Africa 104 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

Of  the  stout  Prior,  Ferran  Ruyz,  and  how  he  rescued  his  cattle  from  the  Moors. 
— Further  enterprises  of  the  Prior,  and  of  the  ambuscade  into  which  he  fell...  106 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Bravado  of  the  three  cavaliers.— Ambush  at  the  bridge  over  the  Guadayra. — 
Desperate  valor  of  Garci  Perez.— Grand  attempt  of  Admiral  Bonifaz  on  the 
bridge  of  boats.— Seville  dismembered  from  Triana 109 

CHAPTER  XIX 
Investment  of  Triana.— Garci  Perez  and  the  Infanzon 114 

f 

CHAPTER  XX.  -^ 

Capitulation  of  Seville.— Dispersion  of  the  Moorish  inhabitants.— Triumphant 
entry  of  King  Fernando 116 

CHAPTER  XXI. 
Death  of  King  Fernando 119 


MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNAN  GONZALEZ, 

<JOUNT  OF  CASTILE. 


INTRODUCTION. 


At  the  time  of  the  general  wrj3ck  of  Spain  by  the  sudden 
tempest  of  Arab  invasion,  many  of  the  inhabitants  took  ref- 
uge in  the  mountains  of  the  Asturias,  burying  themselves  in 
narrow  valleys  difficult  of  access,  wherever  a  constant  stream 
of  water  afforded  a  green  bosom  of  pasture-land  and  scanty 
fields  for  cultivation.  For  mutual  protection  they  gathered  to- 
gether in  small  villages  called  castros,  or  castrellos,  with  watch- 
towers  and  fortresses  on  impending  cliffs,  in  which  they  might 
shelter  and  defend  themselves  in  case  of  sudden  inroad.  Thus 
arose  the  kingdom  of  the  Asturias,  subject  to  Pelayo  and  the 
kings  his  successors,  who  gradually  extended  their  dominions, 
built  towns  and  cities,  and  after  a  time  fixed  their  seat  of  gov- 
ernment at  the  city  of  Leon. 

An  important  part  of  the  region  over  which  they  bore  sway 
was  ancient  Cantabria,  extending  from  the  Bay  of  Biscay  to 
the  Duero,  and  called  Castile  from  the  number  of  castles  with 
which  it  was  studded.  They  divided  it  into  seigniories,  over 
which  they  placed  civil  and  military  governors  called  counts— 
a  title  said  to  be  derived  from  the  Latin  comes,  a  companion, 
the  person  enjoying  it  being  admitted  to  the  familiar  compan- 
ionsliip  of  the  king,  entering  into  his  councils  in  tune  of  peace, 
and  accompanying  him  to  the  field  in  time  of  war.  The  title 
of  count  was  therefore  more  dignified  than  that  of  duke  in  the 
time  of  the  Gothic  kings. 


8  MOORISH  CnRONICLES. 

The  power  of  these  counts  increased  to  such  a  degree  that 
four  of  them  formed  a  league  to  declare  themselves  independ- 
ent of  the  crown  of  Leon.  Ordono  II. ,  who  was  then  king,  re- 
ceived notice  of  it,  and  got  them  into  his  power  by  force,  as 
some  assert,  but  as  others  maintain,  by  perfidious  artifice.  At 
any  rate,  they  were  brought  to  court,  convicted  of  treason,  and 
publicly  beheaded.  The  Castilians  flew  to  arms  to  revenge 
their  deaths.  Ordono  took  the  field  with  a  powerful  army,  but 
his  own  death  defeated  all  his  plans. 

The  Castilians  now  threw  off  allegiance  to  the  kingdom  of 
Leon,  and  elected  two  judges  to  rule  over  them — one  in  a  civil, 
the  other  in  a  military  capacity.  The  first  who  filled  those 
stations  were  Nurio  Rasura  and  Lain  Calvo,  two  powerful  no- 
bles, the  former  descended  from  Diego  Porcello,  a  count  of 
Lara ;  the  latter,  ancestor  of  the  renowned  Cid  Campeador. 

Nuno  Rasura,  the  civil  and  political  judge,  was  succeeded  by 
his  son  Gonzalez  Nuno,  who  married  Dona  Ximena,  a  daughter 
of  one  of  the  counts  of  Castile  put  to  death  by  Ordofio  II. 
From  this  marriage  came  Fernan  Gonzalez,  the  subject  of  the 
following  chronicle. 


CHAPTER  I. 


INSTALLATION  OP  FERNAN  GONZALEZ  AS  COUNT  OP  CASTILE. — 
HIS  FIRST  CAMPAIGN  AGAINST  THE  MOORS. — VICTORY  OF  SAN 
QUIRCE. — HOW  THE   COUNT  DISPOSED  OF  THE  SPOILS. 

The  renowned  Fernan  Gonzalez,  the  most  complete  hero  of 
his  time,  was  born  about  the  year  887.  Historians  trace  his 
descent  to  Nufio  Belchidez,  nephew  of  the  Emperor  Charle- 
magne, and  Dona  Sula  Bella,  granddaughter  to  the  Prince  Don 
Sancho,  rightfid  sovereign  of  Spain,  but  superseded  by  Roder- 
ick, the  last  of  the  Gothic  kings. 

Fernan  Gonzalez  was  hardily  educated  among  the  mountains 
in  a  strong  place  called  Maron,  in  the  houssof  Martin  Gonzalez, 
a  gallant  and  veteran  cavalier.  From  his  earliest  years  he  was 
inured  to  all  kinds  of  toils  and  perils,  taught  to  hunt,  to  hawk, 
to  ride  the  great  horse,  to  manage  sword,  lance,  and  buckler ; 
in  a  word,  he  was  accomplished  in  all  the  noble  exercises  befit- 
ting a  cavalier. 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERN  AN  GONZALEZ.  9 

His  father  Gonzalvo  Nunez  died  in  903,  and  his  elder  brother 
Rodrigo  in  904,  without  issue ;  and  such  was  the  admiration  al- 
ready entertained  of  Fernan  Gonzalez  by  the  hardy  mountain- 
eers and  old  Castilian  warriors,  that  though  scarce  seventeen 
years  of  age  he  was  unanimously  elected  to  rule  over  them. 
His  title  is  said  to  have  been  Count,  Duke,  and  Consul,  under 
the  seigniory  of  Alonzo  the  Great,  King  of  Leon.  A  cortes,  or 
assemblage  of  the  nobility  and  chivalry  of  Castile  and  of  the 
mountains,  met  together  at  the  recently  built  city  of  Burgos  to 
do  honor  to  his  installation.  Sebastian,  the  renowned  Bishop 
of  Oca,  officiated. 

In  those  stern  days  of  Spain,  the  situation  of  a  sovereign  was 
not  that  of  silken  ease  and  idle  ceremonial.  When  he  put  the 
rich  crown  upon  his  head,  he  encircled  it  likewise  with  shining 
steel.  With  the  sceptre  were  united  the  lance  and  shield,  em- 
blems of  perpetual  war  against  the  enemies  of  the  faith.  The 
cortes  took  this  occasion  to  pass  the  following  laws  for  the 
government  of  the  realm : 

1.  Above  all  things  the  people  should  observe  the  law  of  Cod, 
the  canons  and  statutes  of  the  holy  fathers,  the  liberty  and 
privileges  of  the  Church,  and  the  respect  due  to  its  ministers. 

2.  No  person  should  prosecute  another  out  of  Castile  at  any 
tribunal  of  justice  or  of  arms,  under  pain  of  being  considered 
a  stranger. 

3.  All  Jews  and  Moors  who  refused  to  acknowledge  the 
Christian  faith  should  depart  from  Castile  within  two  months. 

4.  That  cavaliers  of  noble  blood  should  treat  their  tenants 
and  vassals  with  love  and  gentleness. 

5.  That  he  who  slew  another,  or  committed  any  other  grave 
offence,  should  make  equal  measure  of  atonement. 

6.  That  no  one  should  take  the  property  of  another;  but,  if 
oppressed  by  poverty,  should  come  to  the  count,  who  ought  to 
be  as  a  father  to  all. 

7.  That  all  should  unite  and  be  of  one  heart,  and  aid  one 
another  in  defense  of  their  faith  and  of  their  country. 

Such  were  the  ordinances  of  the  ancient  Cortes  of  Burgos ; 
brief  and  simple,  and  easy  to  be  understood;  not.  as  at  the 
present  day,  multifarious,  and  perplexed,  to  the  confusion  and 
ruin  of  chents  and  the  enrichment  of  lawyers. 

Scarce  was  the  installation  ended,  and  while  Burgos  was  yet 
abandoned  to  festivity,  the  young  count,  with  the  impatient 
ardor  of  youth,  caused  the  trumpets  to  sound  through  the 
streets  a  call  to  arms.     A  captain  of   the  Moorish  king  of 


10  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

Toledo  was  ravaging  the  territory  of  Castile  at  the  head  of 
seven  thousand  troops,  and  against  him  the  youthful  count 
determined  to  make  his  first  campaign.  In  the  spur  of  the 
moment  but  one  hundred  horsemen  and  fifteen  hundred  foot- 
sold  iers  could  be  collected;  but  with  this  slender  force  the 
count  prepared  to  take  the  field.  Buy  Velazquez,  a  valiant 
cavalier,  remonstrated  against  such  rashness,  but  in  vain.  ' '  I 
owe,"  said  the  count,  a  "death  to  the  grave;  the  debt  can 
never  be  paid  so  honorably  as  in  the  service  of  God  and  my 
country.  Let  every  one,  therefore,  address  himself  heart  and 
hand  to  this  enterprise ;  for  if  I  come  face  to  face  with  this 
Moor,  I  will  most  assuredly  give  him  battle."  So  saying,  he 
knelt  before  Bishop  Sebastian  of  Salamanca  and  craved  his 
benediction.  The  reverend  prelate  invoked  on  his  head  the 
blessing  and  protection  of  Heaven,  for  his  heart  yearned 
toward  him ;  but  when  he  saw  the  youthful  warrior  about  to 
depart,  he  kindled  as  it  were  with  a.  holy  martial  fire,  and 
ordering  his  steed  to  be  saddled  he  sallied  forth  with  him  to 
the  wars. 

The  little  army  soon  came  upon  traces  of  the  enemy  in  fields 
laid  waste,  and  the  smoking  ruins  of  villages  and  hamlets. 
The  count  sent  out  scouts  to  clamber  every  height  and  explore 
every  defile.  From  the  summit  of  a  hill  they  beheld  the 
Moors  encamped  in  a  valley  which  was  covered  with  the  flocks 
and  herds  swept  from  the  neighboring  country.  The  camp  of 
the  marauders  was  formidable  as  to  numbers,  with  various 
standards  floating  in  the  breeze;  for  in  this  foray  were  en- 
gaged the  Moorish  chiefs  of  Saragossa,  Denia,  and  Seville,  to- 
gether with  many  valiant  Moslems  who  had  crossed  the  straits 
from  Africa  to  share  in  what  they  considered  a  holy  enter- 
prise). The  scouts  observed,  however,  that  the  most  negligent 
security  reigned  throughout  the  camp;  some  reposing,  others 
feasting  and  revelling,  all  evidently  considering  themselves 
safe  from  any  attack. 

Upon  hearing  this  the  count  led  his  men  secretly  and  silently 
to  the  assault,  and  came  upon  the  Moors  in  the  midst  of  their 
revelry,  before  they  had  time  to  buckle  on  their  armor.  The 
infidels,  however,  made  a  brave  though  confused  resistance; 
the  camp  was  strewn  with  their  dead ;  many  were  taken  pri- 
soners, and  the  rest  began  to  falter.  The  count  killed  their 
captain-general  with  his  own  hand,  in  single  fight,  as  he  was 
bravely  rallying  his  troops.  Upon  seeing  him  fall,  the  Moors 
threw  down  their  weapons  and  fled. 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNAN  GONZALEZ.  \\ 

Immense  booty  was  found  in  the  Moorish  camp,— partly  the 
rich  arms  and  equipments  of  the  infidel  warriors,  partly  the 
plunder  of  the  country.  An  ordinary  victor  would  have 
merely  shared  the  spoils  with  his  soldiery,  but  the  count 
was  as  pious  as  he  was  brave,  and,  moreover,  bad  by  his  side 
the  venerable  Bishop  of  Salamanca  as  counsellor.  Contenting 
himself,  therefore,  with  distributing  one-third  among  his 
soldiery,  he  shared  the  rest  with  God,  devoting  a  large  part  to 
the  Church,  and  to  the  relief  of  souls  in  purgatory — a  pious 
custom,  which  he  ever  after  observed.  He  moreover  founded 
a  church  on  the  field  of  battle,  dedicated  to  St.  Quirce,  on 
whose  festival  (the  ICth  July)  this  victory  was  obtained.  To 
this  church  was  subsequently  added  a  monastery  where  a 
worthy  fraternity  of  monks  were  maintained  in  the  odor  of 
sanctity,  to  perpetuate  the  memory  of  this  victory.  All  this 
was  doubtless  owing  to  the  providental  presence  of  the  good 
bishop  on  this  occasion;  and  this  is  one  instance  of  the  great 
benefit  derived  from  those  priests  and  monks  and  other  pur- 
veyors of  the  Church,  who  hovered  about  the  Christian  camps 
throughout  all  these  wars  with  the  infidels. 


CHAPTER  II. 


OF  THE  SALLY  FROM  BURGOS  AND  SURPRISE  OF  THE  CASTLE  OF 
LARA.  — CAPITULATION  OF  THE  TOWN.— VISIT  TO  ALFONSO  THE 
GREAT  KING  OF  LEON. 

Count  Fernan  Gonzalez  did  not  remain  idle  after  the 
victory  of  San  Quirce.  There  was  at  this  time  an  old  castle, 
Strong  but  much  battered  in  the  wars,  which  protected  a  small 
town,  the  remains  of  the  once  flourishing  city  of  Lara.  It  was 
the  ancient  domain  of  his  family,  but  was  at  present  in  posses- 
sion of  the  Moors.  In  sooth  it  bad  repeatedly  been  taken  and 
retaken ;  for  in  those  iron  days  no  castle  nor  fortress  remained 
long  under  the  same  masters.  One  year  it  was  in  the  hands  of 
the  Christians,  the  next,  of  the  Moors.  Some  of  these  castles, 
with  their  dependent  towns,  were  sacked,  burnt,  and  demo- 
lished; others  remained  silent  and  deserted,  their  original 
owners  fearing  to  reside  in  them ;  and  their  ruined  towers  were 
only  tenanted  by  bats  and  owls  and  screaming  birds  of  prey. 
Lara  had  lain  for  a  time  in  ruins  after  being  captured  by  the 


22  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

Moors,  but  had  been  rebuilt  by  them  with  diminished  grand- 
eur, and  they  held  a  strong  garrison  in  the  castle,  whence  they 
sallied  forth  occasionally  to  ravage  the  lands  of  the  Christians. 
The  Moorish  chieftain  of  Lara,  as  has  been  observed,  was 
among  the  associated  marauders  who  had  been  routed  in  the 
battle  of  San  Quirce;  and  the  Count  Fernan  Gonzalez  thought 
this  a  favorable  time  to  strike  for  the  recovery  of  his  family 
domain,  now  that  the  infidel  possessor  was  weakened  by  de- 
feat and  could  receive  no  succor. 

Appointing  Rodrigo  Velasquez  and  the  Count  Don  Vela 
Alvarez  to  act  as  governors  of  Castile  during  his  absence,  the 
count  sallied  forth  from  Burgos  with  a  brilliant  train  of 
chivalry.  Among  the  distinguished  cavaliers  who  attended 
him  were  Martin  Gonzalez,  Don  Gustios  Gonzalez,  Don  Ve- 
lasco,  and  Don  Lope  de  Biscava  which  last  brought  a  goodly 
train  of  stout  Biscayans.  The  alfarez,  or  standard-bearer  was 
Orbita  Velasquez,  who  had  distinguished  himself  in  the  battle 
of  San  Quirce.  He  bore  as  a  standard  a  great  cross  of  silver, 
which  shone  gloriously  in  front  of  the  host,  and  is  preserved, 
even  to  the  present  day,  in  the  church  of  San  Pedro  de  Ar- 
lanza.  One  hundred  and  fifty  noble  cavaliers,  well  armed 
and  mounted,  with  many  esquires  and  pages  of  the  lance, 
and  three  thousand  foot-soldiers,  all  picked  men,  formed  this 
small  but  stout-hearted  army. 

The  count  led  his  troops  with  such  caution  that  they  arrived 
in  the  neighborhood  of  Lara  without  being  discovered.  It  was 
the  vigil  of  St.  John;  the  country  was  wrapped  in  evening 
shadows,  and  the  count  was  enabled  to  approach  near  to  the 
place  to  make  his  observations.  He  perceived  that  his  force 
was  too  inconsiderable  to  invest  the  town  and  fortress.  Be- 
sides, about  two  leagues  distant  was  the  gaunt  and  rock-built 
castle  of  Carazo,  a  presidio  or  stronghold  of  the  Moors,  whence 
he  might  be  attacked  in  the  rear,  should  he  linger  before  the 
fortress.  It  was  evident,  therefore,  that  whatever  was  to  be 
effected  must  be  done  promptly  and  by  sudden  surprise.  Re- 
volving these  things  in  his  mind,  he  put  his  troops  in  ambush 
in  a  deep  ravine  where  they  took  their  j-est,  while  he  kept 
watch  upon  the  castle;  maturing  his  plans~against  the  morrow. 
In  this  way  he  passed  his  midsummer's  night,  the  vigil  of  the 
blessed  St.  John. 

The  festival  of  St.  John  is  observed  as  well  by  Mahometans 
as  Christians.  During  the  night  the  bonfires  blazed  on  the 
hill-tops  and  the  sound  of  music  and  festivity  was  heard  from 


C11R0NICLE  OF  FERNAN  GONZALEZ.  13 

within  the  town.  When  the  rising  sun  shone  along  the  valley 
of  the  Arlanza,  the  Moors  in  the  castle,  unsuspicious  of  any 
lurking  clanger,  threw  open  the  gates  and  issued  forth  to  rec- 
reate themselves  in  the  green  fields  and  along  the  banks  of  the 
river.  When  they  had  proceeded  to  a  considerable  distance, 
and  a  bill  shut  them  from  view,  the  count  with  his  eager  fol- 
lowers issued  silently  but  swiftly  from  their  hiding-place  and 
made  directly  for  the  castle.  On  the  way  they  met  with  an- 
other band  of  Moors  who  had  likewise  come  forth  for  amuse- 
ment. The  count  struck  the  leader  to  the  earth  with  one  blow 
of  his  lance ;  the  rest  were  either  slain  or  taken  prisoners ;  so 
that  not  one  escaped  to  give  the  alarm. 

Those  of  the  garrison  who  had  remained  in  the  castle,  seeing 
a  Christian  force  rushing  up  to  the  very  walls,  hastened  to 
close  the  gates,  but  it  was  too  late.  The  count  and  his  cava- 
liers burst  them  open  and  put  every  one  to  the  sword  who 
made  opposition.  Leaving  Don  Vclasco  and  a  number  of 
soldiers  to  guard  the  castle,  the  count  hastened  with  the  rest 
in  pursuit  of  the  Moors  who  were  solemnizing  the  day  on  the 
banks  of  the  Alanza.  Some  were  reclining  on  the  grass, 
others  were  amusing  themselves  with  music  and  the  popular 
dance  of  the  Zambra,  while  their  arms  lay  scattered  among 
the  herbage. 

At  sight  of  the  Christians,  they  snatched  up  their  weapons 
and  made  a  desperate  though  vain  resistance.  Within  two 
hours  almost  all  w^ere  either  slain  or  captured ;  a  few  escaped 
to  the  neighboring  mountains  of  Carazo.  The  town,  seeing 
the  castle  in  the  hands  of  the  Christians,  and  the  garrison 
routed  and  destroyed,  readily  capitulated;  and  the  inhabi- 
tants were  permitted  to  retain  unmolested  possession  of  their 
houses,  on  agreeing  to  pay  to  the  count  the  same  tribute  which 
had  been  exacted  from  them  by  the  Moorish  king.  Don 
Velasco  was  left  alcaid  of  the  fortress,  and  the  count  returned, 
covered  with  glory,  to  his  capital  of  Burgos. 

The  brilliant  victories  and  hardy  deeds  of  arms  with  which 
the  youthful  Count  of  Castiie  had  commenced  his  reign  excited 
the  admiration  of  Alfonso  the  Great,  King  of  Leon,  and  he 
sent  missives  urging  him  to  appear  at  his  royal  court.  The 
count  accordingly  set  forth  with  a  cavalcade  of  his  most  ap- 
proved knights  and  many  of  his  relatives,  sumptuously  armed 
and  arrayed,  and  mounted  on  steeds  richly  caparisoned.  It 
was  a  pageant  befitting  a  young  and  magnificent  chief,  in  the 
freshness  and  pleasance  of  his  years. 


14  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

The  king  came  out  of  the  city  to  nieet  him,  attended  by  all 
the  pomp  and  grandeur  of  his  court.  The  count  alighted,  and 
approached  to  kiss  the  king's  hand ;  but  Alfonso  alighted  also, 
and  embraced  him  with  great  affection,  and  the  friendship  of 
these  illustrious  princes  continued  without  interruption 
throughout  the  life  of  the  king. 


CHAPTER  III. 


EXPEDITION  AGAINST  THE  FORTRESS  OF  MUGNON. — DESPERATE  DE- 
FENCE OF  THE  MOORS.— ENTERPRISE  AGAINST  CASTRO  XERIZ. 

Many  are  the  doughty  achievements  recorded  in  ancient 
chronicles  of  this  most  valorous  cavalier ;  among  others  is  his 
expedition,  with  a  chosen  band,  against  the  castle  of  Mugnon, 
a  place  of  great  importance,  which  stood  at  no  great  distance 
from  Burgos.  He  sallied  from  his  capital  in  an  opposite  direc- 
tion, to  delude  the  Moorish  scouts ;  but  making  a  sudden  turn, 
came  upon  the  fortress  by  surprise,  broke  down  the  gates,  and 
forced  his  way  in  at  the  head  of  his  troops,  having  nothing  but 
a  dagger  in  his  hand,  his  lance  and  sword  having  been  broken 
in  the  assault.  The  Moors  fought  desperately  from  court  to 
tower,  from  tower  to  wall ;  and  when  they  saw  all  resistance 
vain,  many  threw  themselves  from  the  battlements  into  the 
ditch  rather  than  be  made  captives.  Leaving  a  strong  garri- 
son in  the  place,  the  count  returned  to  Burgos. 

His  next  enterprise  was  against  Castro  Xeriz,  a  city  with  a 
strong  castle,  which  had  been  a  thorn  in  the  side  of  Castile— 
the  Moorish  garrison  often  sweeping  the  road  between  Bur- 
gos and  Leon,  carrying  off  travellers,  capturing  cattle,  and 
plundering  convoys  of  provisions  and  merchandise.  The  count 
advanced  against  this  place  in  open  day,  ravaging  the  country 
and  announcing  his  approach  by  clouds  of  smoke  from  the 
burning  habitations  of  the  Moors.  Abdallah,  the  alcaid  of  the 
fortress,  would  have  made  peace,  but  the  count  refused  all 
terms.  "  God,"  said  he,  "has  appointed  me  to  rescue  his  holy 
inheritance  from  the  power  of  infidels;  nothing  is  to  be  ne- 
gotiated but  by  the  edge  of  the  sword." 

Abdallah  then  made  a  sally  with  a  chosen  band  of  his  cava- 
liers.    They  at  first  careered  lightly  with  their  Arabian  steeds 


CHRONICLE  OF  FKRNAN  GONZALEZ.  15 

and  launched  their  Moorisn  darts,  but  the  Christians  closed  in 
the  old  Gothic  style,  fighting  hand  to  hand.  Abdallah  fell  by 
the  sword  of  the  count,  and  his  followers  fled  with  loosened 
reins  back  to  the  city.  The  Christians  followed  hard  upon 
them,  strewing  the  ground  with  dead.  At  the  gate  of  the  city 
they  were  met  by  Almondir,  the  son  of  Abdallah,  who  disputed 
the  gateway  and  the  street  inch  by  inch,  until  the  whole  place 
ran  with  blood.  The  Moors,  driven  from  the  streets,  took 
refuge  in  the  castle,  where  Almondir  inspirited  them  to  a 
desperate  defence,  until  a  stone  struck  him  as  he  stood  on  the 
battlements,  and  he  fell  to  the  earth  dead.  Having  no  leader 
to  direct  them,  the  Moors  surrendered.  When  the  town  was 
cleared  of  the  dead  and  order  restored,  the  count  divided  the 
spoils — allotting  the  houses  among  his  followers,  and  peopling 
the  place  with  Christians.  He  gave  the  command  of  it  to 
Layn  Bermudez,  with  the  title  of  count.  From  him  descended 
an  illustrious  line  of  cavaliers  termed  de  Castro,  whose  male 
line  became  extinct  in  Castile,  but  continued  to  flourish  in 
Portugal.  The  place  is  said  to  have  been  called  Castro  Xeriz, 
in  consequence  of  the  blood  shed  in  this  conflict— xeriz,  in  the 
Arabic  language  signifying  bloody.* 


CHAPTER  IV. 

HOW  THE  COUNT  OF  CASTILE  AND  THE  KING  OF  LEON  MAKE  A 
TRIUMPHANT  FORAY  INTO  THE  MOORISH  COUNTRY. — CAPTURE 
OF  SALAMANCA. — OF  THE  CHALLENGE  BROUGHT  BY  THE  HER- 
ALD AND  OF  THE  COUNT'S  DEFIANCE. 

Count  Fernan  Gonzalez  was  restless,  daring,  and  impet- 
uous ;  he  seldom  suffered  lance  to  rest  on  wall  or  steed  in  sta- 
ble, and  no  Moorish  commander  could  sleep  in  quiet  who  held 
town  or  tower  in  his  neighborhood.  King  Alfonso  the  Great 
became  emulous  of  sharing  in  his  achievements,  and  they  made 
a  campaign  together  against  the  Moors.  The  count  brought  a 
splendid  array  of  Castilian  chivalry  into  the  field,  together 
with  a  host  of  Montaneses,  hardy  and  vigorous  troops  from  the 
Asturias,  excellent  for  marauding  warfare.    The  King  of  Leon 

♦Sandoval,  p.  301. 


16  MOORISH   CHRONICLES. 

brought  his  veteran  hands,  seasoned  to  battle.  With  their 
united  forces  they  ravaged  the  Moorish  country,  marking  their 
way  with  havoc  and  devastation ;  arrived  before  Salamanca, 
they  took  that  city  by  storm  after  a  brave  defence,  and  gave 
it  up  to  be  sacked  by  the  soldiery.  After  which  such  of  the 
Moors  as  chose  to  remain  in  it  were  suffered  to  retain  their  pos- 
sessions as  vassals  to  the  king.  Having  accomplished  this 
triumphant  foray,  they  returned,  each  one  to  his  capital. 

The  Count  of  Castile  did  not  repose  long  in  his  palace.  One 
day  a  Moorish  herald,magnificently  dressed,  rode  into  the  city 
of  Burgos,  bringing  Fernan  Gonzalez  a  cartel  of  defiance.  It 
was  from  a  vaunting  Moor  named  Acef eli,  who  had  entered  the 
territories  of  Castile  with  a  powerful  force  of  horse  and  foot, 
giving  out  that  he  had  come  to  measure  strength  and  prowess 
with  the  count  in  battle.  Don  Fernan  Gonzalez  replied  to  the 
defiance  with  weapon  in  hand  at  the  head  of  his  warriors.  A 
pitched  battle  ensued,  which  lasted  from  early  morn  until 
evening  twilight.  In  the  course  of  the  fight  the  count  was  in 
imminent  peril,  his  horse  being  killed  under  him  and  himself 
surrounded,  but  he  was  rescued  by  his  cavaliers.  After  great 
bloodshed,  the  Moors  were  routed  and  pursued  beyond  the  bor- 
ders. The  spoil  gained  in  this  battle  was  devoutly  expended 
in  repairing  the  churches  of  Castile  and  the  Montaneses. 


CHAPTER  V. 


A  NIGHT  ASSAULT  UPON  THE  CASTLE  OP  CARAZO. — THE  MOORISH 
MAIDEN   WHO  BETRAYED  THE   GARRISON. 

In  those  warlike  times  of  Spain  every  one  lived  with  sword 
in  hand ;  there  was  scarcely  a  commanding  cliff  or  hill-top  but 
had  its  castle.  Moors  and  Christians  regarded  each  other  from 
rival  towers  and  battlements  perched  on  opposite  heights,  and 
were  incessantly  contending  for  the  dominion  of  the  valleys. 

We  have  seen  that  Count  Fernan  Gonzalez  had  regained  pos- 
session of  the  ancient  town  and  fortress  of  Lara,  the  domain 
of  his  ancestors;  but  it  will  be  recollected  that  within  two 
leagues'  distance  stood  the  Moorish  presidio  of  Carazo.  It  was 
perched  like  an  eagle's  nest  on  the  summit  of  a  mountain,  and 
the  craggod  steepness  of  its  position,  and  its  high  and  thick 


CI  I II  ONI  CL  E  OF  FERN  AN  G  ONZA  L  EZ.  \  7 

walls  seemed  to  render  it  proof  against  all  assault.  The  Moors 
who  garrisoned  it  were  fierce  marauders,  who  used  to  sweep 
down  like  birds  of  prey  from  their  lofty  nest,  pounce  upon  the 
flocks  and  dwellings  of  the  Christians,  make  hasty  ravages, 
and  bear  away  their  spoils  to  the  mountain-top.  There  was  no 
living  with  safety  or  tranquillity  within  the  scope  of  their  ma- 
raudings. 

Intelligence  of  their  misdeeds  was  brought  to  the  count  at 
Burgos.  He  determined  to  have  that  castle  at  Carazo,  what- 
ever might  be  the  cost ;  for  this  purpose  he  called  a  council  of 
his  chosen  cavaliers.  Jle  did  not  conceal  the  peril  of  the  enter- 
prise, from  the  crag-built  situation  of  the  castle,  its  great 
strength,  and  the  vigilance  and  valor  of  its  garrison.  Still  the 
Castilian  cavaliers  offered  themselves  to  carry  the  fortress  or 
die. 

-  The  count  sailed  secretly  from  Burgos  with  a  select  force, 
and  repaired  in  the  night-time  to  Lara,  that  the  Moors  might 
have  no  intimation  or  suspicion  of  his  design.  In  the  midst  of 
the  next  night,  the  castle-gate  was  quietly  opened  and  they  is- 
sued forth  as  silently  as  possible,  pursuing  their  course  in  the 
deep  shadows  of  the  valley  until  they  came  to  the  foot  of  the 
mountain  of  Carazo.  Here  they  remained  in  ambush,  and 
sent  forth  scouts.  As  the  latter  prowled  about  the  day  began 
to  dawn,  and  they  heard  a  female  voice  singing  above  them  on 
the  side  of  the  mountain.  It  was  a  Moorish  damsel  coming 
down,  with  a  vessel  upon  her  head.  She  descended  to  a  foun- 
tain which  gushed  forth  beneath  a  grove  of  willows,  and  as  she 
sang  she  began  to  fill  her  vessel  v.7ith  water.  The  spies  issued 
from  their  concealment,  seized  her,  and  carried  her  to  Count 
Fernan  Gonzalez. 

Overcome  by  terror  or  touched  by  conviction,  the  Moorish 
damsel  threw  herself  on  her  knees  before  the  count,  declared 
her  wish  to  turn  Christian,  and  offered,  in  proof  of  her  sin- 
cerity, to  put  him  in  a  way  of  gaining  possession  of  the  castle. 
Being  encouraged  to  proceed,  she  told  him  that  there  was  to  be 
a  marriage  feast  that  day  in  the  castle,  and  of  course  a  great 
deal  of  revelry,  which  would  put  the  garrison  off  its  guard. 
She  pointed  out  a  situation  where  he  might  lay  in  ambush  with 
his  troops  in  sight  of  the  tower,  and  promised  wiien  a  favorable 
moment  presented  for  an  attack  to  give  a  signal  with  a  light. 

The  count  regarded  her  for  a  time  with  a  fixed  and  earnest 
gaze,  but  saw  no  faltering  nor  change  of  countenance.  The 
case  required  bold  measures,  combined  with  stratagem;  so  he 


18  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

confided  in  her,  and  permitted  her  to  return  to  the  castle.  All 
day  he  lay  in  ambush  with  his  troops,  each  man  with  his 
hand  upon  his  weapon  to  guard  against  surprise.  The  distant 
sound  of  revelry  from  the  castle,  with  now  and  then  the 
clash  of  cymbals,  the  bray  of  trumpets,  and  a  strain  of  festive 
music,  showed  the  gaiety  that  reigned  within.  Night  came 
on;  lights  gleamed  from  walls  and  windows,  but  none  resem- 
bling the  appointed  signal.  It  was  almost  midnight,  and  the 
count  began  to  fear  the  Moorish  damsel  had  deceived  him, 
when  to  his  great  joy  he  saw  the  signal  light  gleaming  from 
one  of  the  towers. 

He  now  sallied  forth  with  his  men,  and  all,  on  foot,  clam- 
bered up  the  steep  and  rugged  height.  They  had  almost 
attained  the  foot  of  the  towers  when  they  were  descried  by  a 
sentinel  who  cried  with  a  loud  voice,  "The  foe!  the  foe!  to 
arms!  to  arms!"  The  count,  followed  by  his  hardy  cavaliers, 
rushed  forward  to  the  gate,  crying,  "God  and  Saint  Mil  Ian!" 
The  whole  castle  was  instantly  in  an  uproar.  The  Moors 
were  bewildered  by  the  sudden  surprise  and  the  confusion  of 
a  night  assault.  They  fought  bravely,  but  irregularly.  The 
Christians  had  but  one  plan  and  one  object.  After  a  hard 
struggle  and  great  bloodshed,  they  forced  the  gate  and  made 
themselves  masters  of  the  castle. 

The  count  remained  several  days,  fortifying  the  place  and 
garrisoning  it,  that  it  might  not  fall  again  into  the  possession 
of  the  Moors.  He  bestowed  magnificent  rewards  on  the  Moor- 
ish damsel  who  had  thus  betrayed  her  countrymen ;  she  cm- 
braced  the  Christian  faith,  to  which  she  had  just  given  such  a 
signal  proof  of  devotion,  though  it  is  not  said  whether  the 
count  had  sufficient  confidence  hi  her  conversion  and  her 
newly  moulded  piety  to  permit  her  to  remain  in  the  fortress 
she  had  betrayed. 

Having  completed  his  arrangements,  the  count  departed  on 
his  return,  and  encountered  on  the  road  his  mother  Dona 
Nuna  Fernandez,  who,  exulting  in  his  success,  had  set  out 
to  visit  him  at  Carazo.  The  mother  and  son  had  a  joyful 
meeting,  and  gave  the  name  of  Contreras  to  the  place  of  their 
encounter. 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERN  AN  GONZALEZ.  19 


CHAPTER  VI. 

DEATH  OF  ALFONSO,  KING  OF  LEON.— THE  MOORS  DETERMINED 
TO  STRIKE  A  FRESH  BLOW  AT  THE  COUNT,  WHO  SUMMONS  ALL 
CASTILE  TO  HIS  STANDARD. — OF  HIS  HUNT  IN  THE  FOREST 
WHILE  WAITING  FOR  THE  ENEMY,  AND  OF  THE  HERMIT  THAT 
HE  MET  WITH. 

Alfonso  the  Great  was  now  growing  old  and  infirm, 
and  his  queen  and  sons,  taking  advantage  of  his  age  and 
feebleness,  endeavored  by  harsh  treatment  to  compel  him  to 
relinquish  the  crown.  Count  Fernan  Gonzalez  interceded 
between  them,  but  in  vain ;  and  Alfonso  was  at  length  obliged 
to  surrender  his  croAvn  to  his  oldest  son,  Don  Garcia.  The 
aged  monarch  then  set  out  upon  a  pilgrimage  to  the  shrine  of 
St.  Iago;  but,  falling  ill  of  his  mortal  malady,  sent  for  the 
count  to  come  to  him  to  his  deathbed  at  Zamora.  The  count 
hastened  thither  with  all  zeal  and  loyalty.  He  succeeded  in 
effecting  a  reconciliation  between  Alfonso  and  his  son  Don 
Garcia  in  his  dying  moments,  and  was  with  the  monarch 
when  he  quietly  breathed  his  last.  The  death  of  the  king  gave 
fresh  courage  to  the  Moors,  and  they  thought  this  a  favorable 
moment  to  strike  a  blow  at  the  rising  power  of  the  count. 
Abderahman  was  at  this  time  king  of  Cordova  and  Miramam- 
olin,  or  sovereign  of  the  Moors  in  Spain.  He  bad  been  enraged 
at  the  capture  of  the  castle  of  Carazo,  and  the  other  victories 
of  the  count ;  and  now  that  the  latter  had  no  longer  the  King 
of  Leon  to  back  him.  it  was  thought  he  might,  by  a  vigorous 
effort,  be  completely  crushed.  Abderahman  accordingly  as- 
sembled at  Cordova  a  great  anny  of  Moorish  warriors,  both 
those  of  Spain  and  Africa,  and  sent  them,  under  the  command 
of  Almanzor,  to  ravage  the  country  of  Count  Fernan  Ganzalez. 
This  Almanzor  was  the  most  valiant  Moorish  general  in  Spain, 
and  one  on  whom  Abderahman  depended  as  upon  his  right 
hand. 

On  hearing  of  the  impending  danger,  Count  Fernan  Gonzalez 
summoned  all  men  of  Castile  capable  of  bearing  arms  to  repair 
to  his  standard  at  Munon.  His  force  when  assembled  was  but 
small,  but  composed  of  the  bravest  chivalry  of  Castile,  any 
one  night  of  which  he  esteemed  equal  to  ten  Moors.     One  of 


20  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

the  most  eminent  of  his  cavaliers  was  Don  Gonzalo  Gustios,  of 
Lara,  who  brought  seven  valiant  sons  to  the  field — the  same 
afterward  renowned  in  Spanish  story  as  the  seven  princes  of 
Lara.  With  Don  Gonzalo  came  also  his  wife's  brother,  Euy  or 
Rodrigo  Velasquez,  a  cavalier  of  great  powers. 

In  the  meantime  tidings  continued  to  arrive  of  the  great 
force  of  the  enemy,  which  was  said  to  cover  the  country  with 
its  tents.  The  name  of  the  Moorish  general,  Almanzor,  like- 
wise inspired  great  alarm.  One  of  the  count's  cavaliers,  there- 
fore, Gonzalo  Diaz,  counselled  him  not  to  venture  upon  an 
open  battle  against  such  fearful  odds ;  but  rather  to  make  a 
tula,  or  ravaging  inroad  into  the  country  of  the  Moors,  by  way 
of  compelling  them  to  make  a  truce.  The  count,  however,  re- 
jected his  advice.  "As  to  their  numbers,  "  said  he,  "  one  lion 
is  worth  ten  sheep,  and  thirty  wolves  will  kill  thirty  thousand 
lambs.  As  to  that  Moor,  Almanzor,  bo  assured  we  shall  van- 
quish him,  and  the  greater  his  renown  the  greater  will  be  the 
honor  of  the  victory." 

The  count  now  marched  his  little  army  to  Lara,  where  he 
paused  to  await  the  movements  of  the  enemy.  While  his 
troops  were  lying  there  he  mounted  his  horse  one  day  and 
went  forth  with  a  few  attendants  to  hunt  in  the  forests  which 
bordered  the  river  Arlanza.  In  the  course  of  the  chase  he 
roused  a  monstrous  boar  and  pursued  it  among  rocks  and 
brakes  until  he  became  separated  from  his  attendants.  Still 
following  the  track  of  the  boar,  he  came  to  the  foot  of  a  rocky 
precipice,  up  which  the  animal  mounted  by  a  rugged  and  nar- 
row path,  where  the  horse  could  not  follow.  The  count 
alighted,  tied  his  horse  to  an  Oak,  and  clambered  up  the  path, 
assisting  himself  at  times  with  his  boar-spear.  The  path  led 
to  a  close  thicket  of  cedars,  surrounding  a  small  edifice  partly 
built  of  stone  and  partly  hewn  out  of  the  solid  rock.  The  boar 
had  taken  refuge  within,  and  had  taken  his  stand  behind  what 
appeared  to  he  a  mass  of  stone.  The  count  was  about  to  launch 
his  javelin  when  he  beheld  a  cross  of  stone  standing  on  what 
now  perceived  was  an  altar,  and  he  knew  that  he  was  in  a 
holy  place.  Being  as  pious  as  he  was  brave,  the  good  coxmt 
now  knelt  before  the  altar  and  asked  pardDn  of  God  for  the 
sin  he  had  been  on  the  point  of  committing ;  and  Avhon  he  had 
finished  this  prayer,  he  added  another  for  victory  over  the 
foe. 

While  he  was  yet  praying,  there  entered  a  venerable  monk, 
Fray  Pelayo  by  name,  who,  seeing  him  to  be  a  Christian 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERN  AN  GONZALEZ.  21 

knight,  gave  him  his  henediction.  He  informed  the  count  that 
he  resided  in  this  hermitage  in  company  with  two  other  monks 
— Arsenio  and  Silvano.  The  count  marvelled  much  how  they 
could  live  there  in  a  country  overrun  by  enemies,  and  which 
had  for  a  long  time,  and  but  recently,  been  in  the  power  of  the 
infidels.  The  hermit  replied  that  in  the  service  of  God  they 
were  ready  to  endure  all  hardships.  It  is  true  they  suffered 
much  from  cold  and  hunger,  being  obliged  to  live  chiefly  on 
herbs  and  roots ;  but  by  secret  paths  and  tracks  they  were  in 
communication  with  other  hermitages  scattered  throughout 
the  country,  so  that  they  were  enabled  to  aid  and  comfort  each 
other.  They  could  also  secretly  sustain  in  the  faith  the  Chris- 
tians who  were  held  in  subjection  by  the  Moors,  and  afford 
them  places  of  refuge  and  concealment  in  cases  of  extremity. 

The  count  now  opened  his  heart  to  the  good  hermit,  revealing 
his  name  and  rank,  and  the  perils  impending  over  him  from 
the  invasion  of  the  infidel.  As  the  day  was  far  spent,  Fray 
Pelayo  prevailed  upon  him  to  pass  the  night  in  the  hermitage, 
setting  before  him  barley  bread  and  such  simple  fare  as  his 
cell  afforded. 

Early  in  the  morning  the  count  went  forth  and  found  the 
hermit  seated  beneath  a  tree  on  a  rock,  whence  he  could  look 
far  and  wide  out  of  the  forest  and  over  the  surrounding  country. 
The  hermit  then  accosted  him  as  one  whose  holy  and  medi- 
tative life  and  mortifications  of  the  flesh  had  given  to  look  into 
the  future  almost  with  the  eye  of  prophecy.  "  Of  a  truth,  my 
son,'"  said  he,  "there  are  many  trials  and  hardships  in  store 
for  thee ;  but  be  of  good  cheer,  thou  wilt  conquer  these  Moors, 
and  wilt  increase  thy  power  and  possessions."  He  now  re- 
vealed to  the  count  certains  signs  and  portents  which  would 
take  place  during  battle.  "When  thou  shalt  see  these,"  said 
he,  "be  assured  that  Heaven  is  on  thy  side,  and  thy  victory 
secure."  The  count  listened  with  devout  attention.  "  If  these 
things  do  indeed  come  to  pass,"  said  he,  "I  will  found  a  church 
and  convent  in  this  place,  to  be  dedicated  to  St.  Peter,  the 
patron  saint  of  this  hermitage ;  and  when  I  die  my  body  shall 
be  interred  here."  Eeceiving  then  the  benediction  of  the  holy 
friar  he  departed. 


22  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  EATTLE  OF  THE  FORD  OF  CASCAJARES. 

When  Count  Fernan  Gonzalez  returned  to  his  troops  he 
found  them  in  great  alarm  at  his  absence,  fearing  some  evil 
had  befallen  him ;  but  he  cheered  them  with  an  account  of  his 
adventure  and  of  the  good  fortune  predicted  by  the  hermit. 

It  was  in  the  month  of  May,  on  the  day  of  the  Holy  Cross, 
that  the  Christian  and  Moslem  armies  came  in  sight  of  each 
other.  The  Moors  advanced  with  a  great  sound  of  trumpets, 
atabals,  and  cymbals,  and  their  mighty  host  extended  over 
hill  and  valley.  When  they  saw  how  small  was  the  force  of 
the  Christians  they  put  up  derisive  shouts,  and  rushed  forward 
to  surround  them. 

Don  Fernan  Gonzalez  remained  calm  and  unmoved  upon  a 
rising  ground,  for  the  hour  was  at  hand  when  the  sign  of  vic- 
tory promised  by  the  hermit  was  to  take  place.  Near  by  him 
was  a  youthful  cavalier,  Pedro  Gonzalez  by  name,  a  native  of 
La  Puente  de  Hitero,  of  fiery  courage  but  vainglorious  temper. 
He  was  cased  in  shining  armor,  and  mounted  on  a  beautiful 
horse  impatient  of  spirit  as  himself,  and  incessantly  foaming 
and  champing  on  the  bit  and  pawing  the  earth.  As  the  Moors 
drew  near,  while  there  was  yet  a  large  space  between  them  and 
the  Christians,  this  fiery  cavalier  -could  no  longer  contain 
himself,  but  giving  reins  to  his  steed  set  off  headlong  to  en- 
counter the  foe;  when  suddenly  the  earth  opened,  man  and 
horse  rushed  downward  into  an  abyss,  and  the  earth  closed  as 
before. 

A  cry  of  horror  ran  through  the  Christian  ranks,  and  a 
panic  was  likely  to  seize  upon  them,  but  Don  Fernan  Gonzalez 
rode  out  in  front  of  them,  exclaiming,  ' '  This  is  the  promised 
sign  of  victory.  Let  us  see  how  Castilians  defend  their  lord, 
for  my  standard  shall  be  borne  into  the  thickest  of  the  fight." 
So  saying,  he  ordered  Orbita  Fernandez  to  advance  his  stan- 
dard ;  and  when  his  troops  saw  the  silver  cross  glittering  on 
high  and  borne  towai'd  the  enemy,  they  shouted,  ' '  Castile ! 
Castile!"  and  rushed  forward  to  the  fight.  Immediately 
around  the  standard  fought  Don  Gonzalo  Gustios  and  his  seven 
sons,  and  he  was,  say  the  old  chroniclers,  like  a  lion  leading 


CTTRONICLK  OF  FERNAN  GONZALEZ.  23 

his  whelps  into  the  fight.  Wherever  they  fought  their  way, 
they  might  be  traced  by  the  bodies  of  bleeding  and  expiring 
infidels.  Few  particulars  of  this  battle  remain  on  record ;  but 
it  is  said  the  Moors  were  as  if  struck  with  sudden  fear  and 
weakness,  and  tied  in  confusion.  Almanzor  himself  escaped 
by  the  speed  of  his  horse,  attended  by  a  handful  of  his  cava- 
liers. 

In  the  camp  of  the  Moors  was  found  vast  bootj^  in  gold  and 
silver,  and  other  precious  things,  with  sumptuous  armor  and 
weapons.  When  the  spoil  was  divided  and  the  troops  were  re- 
freshed, Don  Fernan  Gonzalez  went  with  his  cavaliers  in  pious 
procession  to  the  hermitage  of  San  Pedro.  Here  he  gave  much 
silver  and  gold  to  the  worthy  Fray  Pelayo,  to  be  expended  in 
masses  for  the  souls  of  the  Christian  warriors  who  had  fallen  in 
battle,  and  in  prayers  for  further  victories  over  the  infidels; 
after  which  he  returned  in  triumph  to  his  capital  in  Burgos.* 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


OF  THE  MESSAGE    SENT   BY   THE   COUNT  TO    SANCHO  II.,    KING  OP 
NAVARRE,  AND   THE   REPLY. — THEIR   ENCOUNTER  IN   BATTLE. 

The  good  Count  of  Castile  was  so  inspirited  by  this  signal 
victory  over  the  Moors,  and  their  great  general  Almanzor, 
that  he  determined,  now  that  he  had  a  breathing-spell  from 


*  It  does  not  appear  that  Count  Fernan  Gonzalez  kept  his  promise  of  founding  a 
church  and  monastery  on  the  site  of  the  hermitage.  The  latter  edifice  remained  to 
after  ages.  "It  stands,"  says  Sandoval,  "on  a  precipice  overhanging  the  i-iver 
Arlanza,  insomuch  that  it  inspires  dread  to  look  below.  It  is  extremely  ancient; 
large  enough  to  hold  a  hundred  persons.  Within  the  chapel  is  an  opening  like  a 
chasm,  leading  down  to  a  cavern  larger  than  the  church,  formed  in  the  solid  rock, 
with  a  small  window  which  overlooks  the  liver.  It  was  here  the  Christians  used  to 
conceal  themselves." 

As  a  corroboration  of  the  adventure  of  the  Count  of  Castile,  Sandovai  assures  us 
that  in  his  day  the  oak  still  existed  to  which  Don  Fernan  Gonzalez  tied  his  horse, 
when  he  alighted  to  scramble  up  the  hill  in  pursuit  of  the  boar.  The  worthy  Fray 
Agapida.  however,  needed  no  corroboration  of  the  kind,  swallowing:  the  whole  story 
with  the  ready  credence  of  a  pious  monk.  The  action  here  recorded  was  known 
by  the  name  of  the  battle  of  the  Ford  of  Cascajares. 

Sandoval  gives  a  different  account  of  the  fate  of  the  hermits.  He  says  that  Al- 
manzor, in  a  rage  at  their  prognostics,  overthrew  their  chapel,  and,  without  alight- 
ing from  his  horse,  ordered  the  three  monks  to  be  beheaded  in  his  presence.  "This 
martyrdom,"  he  adds,  "  is  represented  in  an  ancient  painting  of  the  chapel  which 
6till  exists." 


24  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

"Infidel  warfare,  to  redress  certain  grievances  sustained  fro-ru 
one  of  his  Christian  neighbors.  This  was  Don  Sancho  II., 
King  of  Navarre,  snrnamcd  Abarca,  either  from  the  abarcas  or 
shepherd-shoes  which  he  had  worn  in  early  life,  when  brought 
up  in  secrecy  and  indigence,  during  the  overthrow  of  his  coun- 
try by  the  Moors,  or  from  making  his  soldiers  wear  shoes  of 
the  kind  in  crossing  the  snowy  Pyrenees.  It  was  a  name  by 
which  the  populace  delighted  to  call  him. 

This  prince  had  recovered  all  Navarre  from  the  infidels,  and 
even  subjected  to  his  crown  all  Biscay,  or  Cantabria,  and  some 
territory  beyond  the  Pyrenees,  on  the  confines  of  France.  Not 
content  with  these  acquisitions,  he  had  made  occasional  in- 
roads into  Castile,  in  consequence  of  a  contest  respecting  the 
territories  of  Najarra  and  Eioxa,  to  which  he  laid  claim. 
These  incursions  he  repeated  whenever  he  had  peace  or  truce 
with  the  Moors.* 

Count  Fernan  Gonzalez,  having  now  time,  as  has  been  ob- 
served, to  attend  to  these  matters,  sent  an  ambassador  to 
King  Sancho,  charged  with  a  courteous  but  resolute  message. 
"I  come,  Seflor,"  said  the  ambassador  to  the  king,  "by  com- 
mand of  the  Count  Fernan  Gonzalez  of  Castile,  and  this  is 
what  I  am  told  to  say.  You  have  done  him  much  wrong  in 
times  past,  by  leaguing  with  the  infidels  and  making  inroads 
into  his  territories  while  he  was  absent  or  engaged  in  war.  If 
you  will  amend  your  ways  in  this  respect,  and  remedy  the 
past,  you  will  do  him  much  pleasure;  but  if  you  refuse,  he 
sends  you  his  defiance." 

King  Sancho  Abarca  was  lost  in  astonishment  and  indigna' 
tion  at  receiving  such  a  message  from  a  count  of  Castile. 
"Return  to  the  count,"  said  he,  "and  tell  him  I  will  amend 
nothing ;  that  I  marvel  at  his  insolence,  and  hold  him  for  a 
madman  for  during  to  defy  me.  Tell  him  he  has  listened  to 
evil  counsel,  or  a  few  trifling  successes  against  the  Moors  have 
turned  his  brain;  but  it  will  be  very  different  when  I  come  to 
seek  him,  for  there  is  not  town  or  tower  from  which  I  will  not 
drag  him  forth."  t 

The  ambassador  returned  with  this  reply,  nor  did  he  spare 
the  least  of  its  scorn  and  bitterness.  Upon_khis  the  count  as- 
sembled his  cavaliers   and  councillors,  and  represented  the 

*  Sandoval:  The  Five  Bishops.    Mariana,  lib.  8,  c.  5,  p.  307.    Cron.  Gen.  de  Ea 
pafia,  part  3,  c.  18,  fol.  53. 

t  Cron.  Gen.  de  Espafia,  ut  supra. 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNAN  GONZALEZ.  95 

case.  He  exhorted  th  em  to  stand  by  him  in  seeking  redress 
for  this  insult  and  injury  to  their  country  and  their  chieftain. 
' '  We  are  not  equal  in  numbers  to  the  enemy,  but  we  are  va- 
liant men,  united  and  true  to  each  other,  and  one  hundred 
good  lances,  all  in  the  hands  of  chosen  cavaliers,  all  of  one 
heart  and  mind,  are  worth  three  hundred  placed  by  chance  in 
the  hands  of  men  who  have  no  common  tie."  The  cavaliers 
all  assured  him  they  would  follow  and  obey  him  as  loyal  sub- 
jects of  a  worthy  lord,  and  would  prove  their  fealty  in  the  day 
of  battle. 

A  little  army  of  staunch  Castilians  was  soon  assembled,  the 
silver  cross  was  again  reared  on  high  by  the  standard-bearer 
Orbita  Velasquez,  and  the  count  advanced  resolutely  a  day's 
journey  into  the  kingdom  of  Navarre,  for  his  maxim  was  to 
strike  quickly  and  sudden.  KingSancho  wondered  at  his  dar- 
ing, but  hastened  to  meet  him  with  a  greatly  superior  force. 
The  armies  came  in  sight  of  each  other  at  a  place  called  the 
Era  de  Gollanda. 

The  count  now  addressed  his  men.  "  The  enemy,"  said  he, 
"  are  more  numerous  than  we;  they  are  vigorous  of  body  and 
light  of  foot,  and  are  dexterous  in  throwing  darts.  They  will 
have  the  advantage  if  they  attack  us;  but  if  we  attack  them 
and  close  manfully,  shall  get  the  field  of  them  before  they 
have  time  to  hurl  their  darts  and  wound  us.  For  my  part,  I 
shall  make  for  the  king.  If  I  can  but  revenge  the  wrongs  of 
Castile  upon  his  person  I  care  not  how  soon  I  die." 

As  the  armies  drew  near  each  other  the  Castilians,  true  to 
the  orders  of  their  chieftain,  put  up  the  war  cry,  ' '  Castile ! 
Castile?"  and  rushing  forward,  broke  through  the  squadrons  of 
Navarre.  Then  followed  a  fight  so  pitiless  and  deadly,  says  an 
old  chronicler,  that  the  strokes  of  their  weapons  resounded 
through  the  whole  country.  The  count  sought  King  Sancho 
throughout  the  whole  field;  they  met  and  recognized  each 
other  by  their  armorial  bearings  and  devices.  They  fought 
with  fury,  until  both  fell  from  their  horses  as  if  dead.  The 
Castilians  cut  their  way  through  the  mass  of  the  enemy,  and 
surrounded  their  fallen  chief.  Some  raised  him  from  the 
earth  while  others  kept  off  the  foe.  At  first  they  thought  him 
dead,  and  were  loud  in  their  lamentations;  but  when  the  blood 
and  dust  were  wiped  from  his  face  he  revived  and  told  them 
not  to  heed  him,  for  his  wounds  were  nothing ;  but  to  press 
on  and  gain  the  victory,  for  he  had  slain  the  King  of  Navarre. 

At  hearing  this  they  gave  a  great  shout  and  returned  to  the 


26  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

fight ;  but  those  of  Navarre,  seized  with  terror  at  the  fall  of 
their  king,  turned  their  backs  and  fled. 

The  count  then  caused  the  body  of  the  king  to  be  taken  from 
among  the  slain  and  to  be  conducted,  honorably  attended,  to 
Navarre.  Thus  fell  Sancho  Abarca,  King  of  Navarre,  and  was 
succeeded  by  his  son  Don  Garcia,  surnamed  the  Trembler. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


HOW    THE     COUNT    OF    TOULOUSE    MAKES    A    CAMPAIGN    AGAINST 
CASTILE,    AND   HOW   HE  RETURNS  IN  HIS  COFFIN. 

While  the  Count  Fernan  Gonzalez  was  yet  ill  of  his  wounds 
in  his  capital,  and  when  his  soldiers  had  scarce  laid  by  their 
cuirasses  and  hung  up  their  shields  and  lances,  there  was  a 
fresh  alarm  of  war.  The  Count  of  Toulouse  and  Poictiers,  the 
close  friend  and  ally  of  King  Sancho  Abarca,  had  come  from 
France  with  a  host  to  his  assistance,  but  finding  him  defeated 
and  slain,  raised  his  standard  to  make  a  campaign,  in  his  re- 
venge, against  the  Castilians.  The  Navarrese '  all  gathered 
round  him,  and  now  an  army  was  on  foot  more  powerful  than 
the  one  which  had  recently  been  defeated. 

Count  Fernan  Gonzalez,  vrounded  as  he  was,  summoned  his 
troops  to  march  against  this  new  enemy ;  but  the  war-worn 
Castilians,  vexed  at  being  thus  called  again  to  arms  before 
they  had  time  to  breathe,  began  to  murmur.  "This  is  the 
life  of  the  very  devil,"  said  they  "  to  go  about  day  and  night, 
without  a  moment's  rest.  This  lord  of  ours  is  assuredly  Sa- 
tan himself,  and  we  are  lesser  devils  in  his  employ,  always 
busy  entrapping  the  souls  of  men.  He  has  no  pity  for  us  so 
battered  and  worn,  nor  for  himself,  so  badly  wounded.  It  is 
necessary  that  some  one  shoidd  talk  with  him,  and  turn 
him  from  this  madness." 

Accordingly  a  hardy  cavalier,  Nuiio  Laynez,  remonstrated 
with  the  count  against  further  fighting  until  he  should  be 
cured  of  his  wounds  and  his  peor^le  should  have  time  to  repose; 
for  mortal  men  could  not  support  this  kind  of  life.  ' '  Nor  is 
this  urged  through  cowardice,"  added  he,  "for  your  men  are 
ready  to  fight  for  and  defend  you  as  they  would  their  own 
souls." 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERN  AN  GONZALEZ.  27 

"Well  have  you  spoken,  Nuiio  Lay  nez,"  replied  the  count; 
r  yet  for  all  this  I  am  not  minded  to  defer  this  fight.  A  day 
lost  never  returns.  An  opportunity  foregone  can  never  be 
recalled.  The  worrior  who  indulges  in  repose  will  never  leave 
the  memory  of  great  deeds  behind  him.  His  name  dies  when 
his  soul  leaves  the  body.  Let  us,  therefore,  make  the  most  of 
the  days  and  hours  allotted  us,  and  crown  them  with  such 
glorious  deeds  that  the  world  shall  praise  us  in  all  future  time." 

When  Nuiio  Laynez  repeated  these  generous  words  to  the 
cavaliers,  the  blood  glowed  in  their  veins,  and  they  prepared 
themselves  manfully  for  the  field ;  nor  did  the  count  give  them 
time  to  cool  before  he  put  himself  at  their  head  and  marched 
to  meet  the  enemy.  He  found  them  drawn  up  on  the  opposite 
side  of  a  river  which  was  swollen  and  troubled  by  recent 
rains.  Without  hesitation  he  advanced  to  ford  it,  but  his 
troops  were  galled  by  nights  of  darts  and  arrows  as  they 
crossed,  and  received  with  lances  on  the  water's  edge;  the 
bodies  of  many  floated  down  the  turbid  stream,  and  many 
perished  on  the  banks.  They  made  good  their  crossing,  how- 
ever, and  closed  with  the  enemy.  The  fight  was  obstinate, 
and  the  Castilians  were  hardly  pressed,  being  so  inferior  in 
number.  Don  Fernan  Gonzalez  galloped  along  the  front  of 
the  enemy.  "Where  is  the  Count  of  Toulouse?"  cried  he; 
"let  him  come  forth  and  face  me, — me,  Fernan  Gonzalez  of 
Castille,  who  defy  him  to  single  combat !"  The  count  answered 
promptly  to  the  defiance.  No  one  from  either  side  presumed 
to  interfere  while  the  two  counts  encountered,  man  to  man 
and  horse  to  horse,  like  honorable  and  generous  cavaliers. 
They  rushed  upon  each  other  with  the  full  speed  of  their 
horses;  the  lance  of  Don  Fernan  pierced  through  all  the 
armor  and  accoutrements  of  the  Count  of  Toulouse  and  bore 
him  out  of  the  saddle,  and  before  he  touched  the  earth  his 
soul  had  already  parted  from  his  body.  The  men  of  Toulouse, 
seeing  their  chief  fall  dead,  fled  amain,  but  were  pursued,  and 
three  hundred  of  them  taken."* 

The  field  being  won,  Count  Fernan  Gonzalez  alighted  and 
took  off  the  armor  of  the  Count  of  Tottlouse  with  his  own 
hands,  and  wrapped  him  in  a  xemete,  or  Moorish  mantle,  of 
great  value,  which  he  had  gained  when  he  conquered  Alman- 
zor.  He  ordered  a  coffin  to  be  made,  and  covered  with  cloth 
of  gold,  and  studded  with  silver  nails,  and  he  put  therein  the 

*  Cron.  Gen.  de  Espana. 


2S  MOORISH   CnRONICLES. 

body  of  the  count,  and  delivered  ib  to  the  captive  cavaliers, 
whom  ho  released  and  furnished  with  money  for  their  ex- 
penses, making  them  swear  not  to  leave  the  body  of  the 
count  until  they  had  conducted  it  to  Toulouse.  So  the  count 
who  had  come  from  France  in  such  chivalrous  state,  at  the 
head  of  an  array  of  shining  warriors,  returned  in  his  coffin 
with  a  mourning  train  of  vanquished  cavaliers,  while  Count 
Fernan  Gonzalez  conducted  his  victorious  troops  in  triumph 
back  to  Burgos. 

This  signal  victory  took  place  in  the  year  of  our  Eedemption 
926,  in  the  beginning  of  the  reign  of  Alfonso  the  Monk  on  the 
throne  of  Leon  and  the  Asturias.* 


CHAPTER  X. 

HOW  THE  COUNT  WENT  TO  RECEIVE  THE  HAND  OF  A  PRINCESS, 
AND  WAS  THROWN  INTO  A  DUNGEON.  —  OP  THE  STRANGER 
THAT  VISITED  HIM  IN  HIS  CHAINS,  AND  OF  THE  APPEAL  THAT 
HE  MADE  TO  THE  PRINCESS  FOR  HIS  DELIVERANCE. 

Garcia  II. ,  who  had  succeeded  to  the  throne  of  Navarre  on 
the  death  of  his  father,  was  brave  of  soul,  though  surnamed  El 
Tembloso,  or  The  Trembler.  He  was  so  called  because  he  was 
observed  to  tremble  on  going  into  battle ;  but,  as  has  been  said 
of  others,  it  was  only  the  flesh  that  trembled,  foreseeing  the 
dangers  into  which  the  spirit  would  carry  it.  The  king  was 
deeply  grieved  at  the  death  of  his  father,  slain  by  Count 
Fernan  Gonzalez,  and  would  have  taken  vengeance  by  open 
warfare,  but  he  was  counselled  by  his  mother,  the  Queen 
Teresa,  to  pursue  a  subtler  course.  At  her  instigation  over- 
tures were  made  to  the  count  to  settle  all  the  feuds  between 
Navarre  and  Castile  by  a  firm  alliance,  and  to  this  end  it  was 
proposed  that  the  count  should  take  to  wife  Dona  Sancha,  the 
sister  of  King  Garcia  and  daughter  of  King  Sancho  Abarca. 
The  count  accepted  gladly  the  proffered  alliance,  for  he  had 
heard  of  the  great  merit  and  beauty  of  the?  princess,  and  was 
pleased  with  so  agreeable  a  mode  of  putting  an  end  to  all  their 
contests.     A  conference  was  accordingly  appointed  between 


*  Mariana,  lib.  8,  c.  5,  p.  367. 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNAN  GONZALEZ.  29 

the  count  and  King  Garcia,  to  take  place  at  Ciruena,  each  to 
be  attended  only  by  five  cavaliers. 

The  count  was  faithful  to  his  compact,  and  appeared  at  the 
appointed  place  with  five  of  the  bravest  of  his  cavaliers ;  but 
the  king  arrived  with  five-and-thirty  chosen  men,  all  armed 
cap-a-pie.  The  count,  suspecting  treachery,  retreated  with 
his  cavaliers  into  a  neighboring  hermitage,  and,  barricading 
the  door,  defended  himself  throughout  the  day  until  night- 
fall. Seeing  there  was  no  alternative,  he  at  length  capitulated 
and  agreed  to  surrender  himself  a  prisoner,  and  pay  homage 
to  the  king,  on  the  latter  assuring  him,  under  oath,  that  his 
fife  should  be  secure.  King  Garcia  the  Trembler,  having  in 
this  wily  manner  gained  possession  of  the  count,  threw  him  in 
irons  and  conducted  him  prisoner  to  Navarre,  where  he  con- 
fined him  in  a  strong  castle  called  Castro  Vie  jo.  At  his 
intercession,  however,  his  five  cavaliers  were  released,  and 
carried  back  to  Castile  the  doleful  tidings  of  his  captivity. 

Now  it  came  to  pass  that  a  brave  Norman  count,  who  was 
performing  a  pilgrimage  to  St.  Iago  of  Compostella,  heard  that 
the  Count  Fernan  Gonzalez,  whose  renown  had  spread  far  and 
wide,  lay  in  chains  in  Castro  Viejo.  Having  a  vehement  de- 
sire to  see  the  man  of  whom  fame  had  spoken  so  loudly,  he  re- 
paired to  the  castle,  and  bribed  his  way  to  the  prison  of  the 
count.  When  he  entered  and  beheld  so  noble  a  cavalier  in  a 
solitary  dungeon  and  in  chains,  he  was  sore  at  heart.  The 
count  looked  up  with  wonder  as  this  stranger  stood  before  him 
in  pilgrim  garb  and  with  sorrowful  aspect,  but  when  he  learned 
his  name  and  rank,  and  the  object  of  his  visit,  he  gave  Mm 
the  right  hand  of  friendship. 

The  pilgrim  count  left  the  castle  more  enamored  than  ever  of 
the  character  of  Count  Fernan  Gonzalez.  At  a  festival  of  the 
court  he  beheld  the  Princess  Sancha,  who  had  served  as  a  lure 
to  draw  the  good  count  into  the  power  of  his  enemies,  and  he 
found  her  of  surpassing  beauty,  and  of  a  gentle  and  loving  de- 
meanor; so  he  determined  to  seek  an  opportunity  to  speak 
with  her  in  private,  for  surely,  thought  he,  in  such  a  bosom 
must  dwell  the  soft  pity  of  womanhood.  Accordingly,  one  day 
as  the  princess  was  walking  in  the  garden  with  her  ladies,  he 
presented  himself  before  her  in  his  pilgrim's  garb,  and  prayed 
to  speak  with  her  apart,  as  if  on  some  holy  mission.  And  when 
they  were  alone,  "How  is  this,  Princess,"  said  he,  "that  you 
are  doing  such  great  wrong  to  Heaven,  to  yourself,  and  to  all 
Christendom  ?"    The  princess  started,  and  said,  "What  wrong 


30  MOORIislI  CHRONICLES. 

have  I  done?"  Then  replied  the  pilgrim  count,  "Behold,  for 
thy  sake  the  noblest  of  cavaliers,  the  pride  of  Spain,  the  flower 
of  chivalry,  the  hope  of  Christendom,  lies  in  a  dungeon,  fettered 
with  galling  chains.  What  lady  but  woidd  be  too  happy  to  bo 
honored  with  the  love  of  Count  Fernan  Gonzalez ;  and  thou 
hast  scorned  it !  How  will  it  tell  for  thy  fame  in  future  times, 
that  thou  wast  made  a  snare  to  capture  an  honorable  knight ; 
that  the  gentlest,  the  bravest,  the  most  generous  of  cavaliers 
was  inveigled  by  the  love  of  thee  to  be  thrown  into  a  dungeon? 
How  hast  thou  reversed  the  maxims  of  chivalry !  Beauty  has 
ever  been  the  friend  of  valor ;  but  thou  hast  been  its  foe !  The 
fair  hands  of  lovely  dames  have  ever  bestowed  laurels  and  re- 
wards on  those  gallant  knights  who  sought  and  deserved  their 
loves ;  thou  hast  bestowed  chains  and  a  dungeon.  Behold,  the 
Moors  rejoice  in  his  captivity,  while  all  Christians  mourn. 
Thy  name  will  be  accursed  throughout  the  land  like  that  of 
Cava ;  but  shouldst  thou  have  the  heroism  to  set  him  free,  thou 
wilt  be  extolled  above  all  Spanish  ladies.  Hadst  thou  but  seen 
him  as  I  have  done, — alone,  abandoned,  enchained;  yet  so  no- 
ble, so  courteous,  so  heroic  in  his  chains,  that  kings  upon  their 
thrones  might  envy  the  majesty  of  his  demeanor.  If  thou 
could st  feel  love  for  man,  thou  shouldst  do  it  for  tins  knight; 
for  I  swear  to  thee  on  this  cross  which  I  bear,  that  never  was 
there  king  or  emperor  in  the  world  so  worthy  of  woman's 
love."  When  the  pilgrim  count  had  thus  spoken,  he  left  the 
princess  to  meditate  upon  his  words. 


CHAPTER  XL 


OF  THE  MEDITATIONS  OF  THE  PRINCESS,  AND  THEIR  RESULT. — 
HER  FLIGHT  FROM  THE  PRISON  WITH  THE  COUNT,  AND  PERILS 
OF  THE  ESCAPE. — THE  NUPTIALS. 

The  Princess  Sancha  remained  for  some  time  in  the  garden, 
revolving  in  her  mind  all  that  she  had  just  heard,  and  tender- 
ness for  the  Count  Fernan  Gonzalez  began  to  awaken  in  her 
bosom ;  for  nothing  so  touches  the  heart  of  woman  as  the  idea 
of  valor  suffering  for  her  sake.  The  more  the  princess  medi- 
tated the  more  she  became  enamored.  She  called  to  mind  all 
she  had  heard  of  the  illustrious  actions  of  the  count.    She 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNAN  GONZALEZ.  31 

thought  upon  the  pictures  just  drawn  of  him  in  prison— so 
noble,  so  majestic  in  his  chains.  Sbe  remembered  the  parting 
words  of  the  pilgrim  count — ' '  Never  was  there  king  nor  emperor 
so  worthy  of  a  woman's  love. "  "Alas !"  cried  she,  "was  there 
ever  a  lady  more  unfortunate  than  I?  AH  the  love  and  devo- 
tion of  this  noble  cavalier  I  might  have  had,  and  behold  it  has 
been  made  a  mockery.  Both  he  and  myself  have  been  wronged 
by  the  treachery  of  my  brother." 

At  length  the  passion  of  the  princess  arose  to  such  a  height 
that  she  determined  to  deliver  the  count  from  the  misery  of 
which  she  had  been  the  instrument.  So  she  found  means  one 
night  to  bribe  the  guards  of  his  prison,  and  made  her  way  to 
his  dungeon.  When  the  count  saw  her,  he  thought  it  a  beauti- 
ful vision,  or  some  angel  sent  from  heaven  to  comfort  him,  for 
certainly  her  beauty  surpassed  the  ordinary  loveliness  of 
woman. 

"  Noble  cavalier,"  said  the  princess,  "  this  is  no  time  for  idle 
words  and  ceremonies.  Behold  before  you  the  Princess  Dona 
Sancha ;  the  word  which  my  brother  brake  I  am  here  to  fulfil. 
You  came  to  receive  my  hand,  and,  instead,  you  were  thrown 
in  chains.  I  come  to  yield  you  that  hand,  and  to  deliver  you 
from  those  chains.  Behold,  the  door  of  your  prison  is  open, 
and  I  am  ready  to  fly  with  you  to  the  ends  of  the  earth.  Swear 
to  me  one  word,  and  when  you  have  sworn  it,  I  know  your 
loyalty  too  well  to  doubt  that  you  will  hold  your  oath  sacred. 
Swear  that  if  I  fly  with  you,  you  will  treat  me  with  the  honor 
of  a  knight ;  that  you  will  make  me  your  wife,  and  never  leave 
me  for  any  other  woman." 

The  count  swore  all  this  on  the  faith  of  a  Christian  cavalier ; 
and  well  did  he  feel  disposed  to  keep  his  oath,  for  never  before 
had  he  beheld  such  glorious  beauty. 

So  the  princess  led  the  way,  for  her  authority  and  her  money 
had  conquered  the  fidelity  of  the  guards,  so  that  they  permitted 
the  count  to  sally  forth  with  her  from  the  prison. 

It  was  a  dark  night,  and  they  left  the  great  road  and  climbed 
a  mountain.  The  count  was  so  fettered  by  his  chains  that  he 
moved  with  difficulty,  but  the  princess  helped  and  sometimes 
almost  carried  him ;  for  what  will  not  delicate  woman  perform 
when  her  love  and  pity  are  fully  aroused.  Thus  they  toiled  on 
their  way  until  the  day  dawned,  when  they  hid  themselves  in 
the  cliffs  of  the  mountain,  among  rocks  and  thickets.  While 
thus  concealed  they  beheld  an  archpriest  of  the  castle,  mounted 
on  a  mule  with  a  falcon  on  his  fist,  hawking  about  the  lower 


32  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

part  of  the  mountain.  The  count  knew  him  to  be  a  base  and 
malignant  man,  and  watched  his  movements  with  great  anxiety. 
He  had  two  hounds  beating  about  the  bushes,  which  at  length 
got  upon  the  traces  of  the  count  and  princess,  and  discovering 
them,  set  up  a  violent  barking.  Alighting  from  his  mule,  the 
archpriest  clambered  up  to  where  the  fugitives  were  concealed. 
He  knew  the  count,  and  saw  that  he  had  escaped.  "Aha! 
traitor,"  cried  he,  drawing  his  sword,  "think  not  to  escape 
from  the  power  of  the  king."  The  count  saw  that  resistance 
was  in  vain,  for  he  was  without  lveapon  and  in  chains,  and  the 
archpriest  was  a  powerful  man,  exceeding  broad  across  the 
shoulders ;  he  sought  therefore  to  win  him  by  fair  words,  prom- 
ising that  if  he  would  aid  him  to  escape  he  would  give  him  a 
city  in  Castile,  for  him  and  his  heirs  forever.  But  the  arch- 
priest was  more  violent  than  ever,  and  held  his  sword  at  the 
breast  of  the  count  to  force  him  back  to  the  castle.  Upon  this 
the  princess  rushed  forward,  and  with  tears  in  her  eyes  im- 
plored him  not  to  deliver  the  count  into  the  hands  of  his  ene- 
mies. But  the  heart  of  the  priest  was  inflamed  by  the  beauty 
of  the  princess,  and  thinking  her  at  his  mercy,  "  Gladly,"  said 
he,  ' '  will  I  assist  the  count  to  escape,  but  upon  one  condition. 
Then  he  whispered  a  proposal  which  brought  a  crimson  glow 
of  horror  and  indignation  into  the  cheeks  of  the  princess,  and 
he  would  have  laid  his  hand  upon  her,  but  he  was  suddenly 
lifted  from  the  earth  by  the  strong  grasp  of  the  count,  who 
bore  him  to  the  edge  of  a  precipice  and  flung  him  headlong 
down ;  and  his  neck  was  broken  in  the  fall. 

The  count  then  took  the  mule  of  the  archpriest,  his  hawk, 
and  his  hounds,  and  after  keeping  in  the  secret  parts  of  the 
mountain  all  day,  he  and  the  princess  mounted  the  mule  at 
night,  and  pursued  their  way,  by  the  most  rugged  and  unfre- 
quented passes,  toward  Castile. 

As  the  day  dawned  they  found  themselves  in  an  open  plain 
at  the  foot  of  the  mountains,  and  beheld  a  body  of  horsemen 
riding  toward  them,  conducting  a  car,  in  which  sat  a  knight  in 
armor,  bearing  a  standard.  The  princess  now  gave  all  up  for 
lost.  "These,"  said  she,  "are  sent  by  my  brother  in  pursuit  of 
us;  how  can  we  escape,  for  this  poor  animal  has  no  longer 
strength  nor  speed  to  bear  us  up  the  mountains?"  Upon  this 
Count  Fernan  alighted,  and  drawing  the  sword  of  the  arch- 
priest, placed  himself  in  a  narrow  pass.  "Do  you,"  said  he  to 
the  princess,  "turn  back  and  hasten  to  the  mountains,  and 
dearly  shall  it  cost  him  who  attempts  to  follow  you."    "Not 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNAN  GONZALEZ.  33 

80,"  replied  the  princess;  "for  the  love  of  me  hast  thou  been 
brought  from  thine  own  domain  and  betrayed  into  all  these 
dangers,  and  I  will  abide  to  share  them  with  thee." 

The  count  would  have  remonstrated,  when  to  his  astonish- 
ment he  saw,  as  the  car  drew  near,  that  the  knight  seated  in 
it  was  clad  in  his  own  armor,  with  his  own  devices,  and  held 
his  own  banner  in  his  hand.  "  Surely,"  said  he,  crossing  him- 
self, "this  is  enchantment;"  but  on  looking  still  nearer,  he  rec- 
ognized among  the  horsemen  Nufio  Sandias  and  Nuno  Laynez, 
two  of  his  most  faithful  knights.  Then  his  heart  leaped  for 
joy.  "Fear  nothing, "  cried  he  to  the  princess;  "behold  my 
standard,  and  behold  my  vassals.  Those  whom  you  feared 
as  enemies  shall  kneel  at  your  feet  and  kiss  your  hand  in 
homage." 

Now  so  it  appears  that  the  tidings  of  the  captivity  of  the 
count  had  spread  mourning  and  consternation  throughout 
Castile,  and  the  cavaliers  assembled  together  to  devise  means 
for  his  deliverance.  And  certain  of  them  had  prepared  this 
effigy  of  the  count,  clad  in  his  armor  and  bearing  his  banner 
and  devices,  and  having  done  homage  and  sworn  fealty  to  it 
as  they  would  have  done  to  the  count  himself,  they  had  placed 
it  in  this  car  and  set  forth  with  it  as  a  leader,  making  a  vow, 
in  the  spirit  of  ancient  chivalry,  never  to  return  to  their 
homes  until  they  should  have  delivered  the  count  from  his 
captivity. 

"When  the  cavaliers  recognized  the  count,  they  put  up  shouts 
of  joy,  and  kissed  his  hands  and  the  hands  of  the  princess  in 
token  of  devoted  loyalty.  And  they  took  off  the  fetters  of  the 
count  and  placed  him  in  the  car  and  the  princess  beside  him, 
and  returned  joyfully  to  Castile. 

Vain  would  be  the  attempt  to  describe  the  transports  of  the 
multitude  as  Count  Fernan  Gonzalez  entered  his  noble  capital 
of  Burgos.  The  Princess  Sancha,  also,  was  hailed  with  bless- 
ings wherever  she  passed,  as  the  deliverer  of  their  lord  and  the 
saviour  of  Castile,  and  shortly  afterward  her  nuptials  with  the 
count  were  celebrated  with  feasting  and  rejoicing  and  tilts  and 
tournaments,  which  lasted  for  many  days. 


34  MOORISH  CUROmCLEB. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

KING  GAROIA  CONFINED  IN  BURGOS  BY  THE  COUNT. — THE  PRINCESS 
INTERCEDES  FOR  HIS  RELEASE. 

The  rejoicings  for  the  marriage  of  Couut  Fernan  Gonzalez 
with  the  beautiful  Princess  Sancha  were  scarcely  finished 
when  King  Garcia  the  Trembler  came  with  a  powerful  army 
to  revenge  his  various  affronts.  The  count  sallied,  forth  to 
meet  him,  and  a  bloody  and  -doubtful  battle  ensued.  The 
Navarrese  at  length  were  routed,  and  the  king  was  wounded 
and  taken  prisoner  in  single  combat  by  Count  Fernan,  who 
brought  him  to  Burgos  and  put  him  in  close  confinement. 

The  Countess  Dona  Sancha  was  now  almost  as  much  afflicted 
at  the  captivity  of  her  brother  as  she  had  been  at  that  of  the 
count,  and  interceded  with  her  husband  for  his  release.  The 
count,  however,  retained  too  strong  a  recollection  of  the  bad 
faith  of  King  Garcia  and  of  his  own  treacherous  and  harsh  im- 
prisonment to  be  easily  moved,  and  the  king  was  kept  in 
duress  for  a  considerable  time.  The  countess  then  interested 
the  principal  cavaliers  in  her  suit,  reminding  them  of  the  ser- 
vices she  had  rendered  them  in  aiding  the  escape  of  their  lord. 
Through  their  united  intercessions  the  count  was  induced  to 
relent ;  so  King  Garcia  the  Trembler  was  released  and  treated 
with  great  honor,  and  sent  back  to  his  dominions  with  a 
retinue  befitting  his  rank. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


OF  THE  EXPEDITION  AGAINST  THE  ANCIENT  CITY  CF  SYLO. — THE) 
UNWITTING  TRESPASS  OF  THE  COUNT  INTO  A  CONVENT,  AND 
HIS  COMPUNCTION  THEREUPON. 

Volumes  would  it  take  to  follow  the  Count  Fernan  Gonzalez 
in  his  heroic  achievements  against  the  infidels— achievements 
which  give  to  sober  history  almost  the  air  of  fable.  I  forbear 
to  dwell  at  large  upon  one  of  his  campaigns,  wherein  he 
scoured  the  Valley  of  Laguna ;  passed  victoriously  along  the 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERN  AN   GONZALEZ.  35 

banks  of  the  Douro,  building  towers  and  castles  to  keep  the 
country  in  subjection ;  how  he  scaled  the  walls  of  the  castle  of 
Onnaz,  being  the  first  to  mount,  sword  in  hand ;  how  by  the 
valor  of  his  arm  he  captured  the  city  of  Ornia ;  how  he  took 
the  town  of  Sandoval,  the  origin  of  the  cavaliers  of  Sandoval, 
who  were  anciently  called  Salvadores ;  how  he  made  an  inroad 
even  to  Madrid,  then  a  strongly  fortified  village,  and  having 
taken  and  sacked  it,  returned  in  triumph  to  Burgos. 

But  it  would  be  wronging  the  memory  ot  this  great  and 
good  cavalier  to  pass  in  silence  over  one  of  his  exploits  in 
which  he  gave  a  singular  instance  of  his  piety.  This  was  in 
an  expedition  against  the  ancient  city  of  Sylo.  It  was  not  a 
place  of  much  value  in  itself,  being  situated  in  a  cold  and 
sterile  country,  but  it  had  become  a  stronghold  of  the  Moors, 
whence  they  carried  on  their  warfare.  This  place  the  count 
carried  by  assault,  entering  it  in  full  armor,  on  his  steed,  over- 
turning and  slaying  all  who  opposed  him.  In  the  fury  of  his 
career  he  rode  into  a  spacious  edifice  which  he  supposed  to  be 
a  mosque,  with  the  pious  intention  of  slaying  every  infidel  he 
might  find  within.  On  looking  round,  however,  great  was  his 
astonishment  at  beholding  images  of  saints,  the  blessed  cross 
of  our  Saviour,  and  various  other  sacred  objects,  which  an- 
nounced a  church  devoted  to  the  veritable  faith.  Struck  with 
remorse,  he  sprang  from  his  horse,  throw  himself  upon  his 
knees,  and  with  many  tears  implored  pardon  of  God  for  the 
sin  he  had  unknowingly  committed.  While  he  was  yet  on  his 
knees,  several  monks  of  the  order  of  St.  Dominic  approached, 
meagre  in  looks  and  squalid  in  attire,  but  hailing  him  with 
great  joy  as  their  deliverer.  In  sooth  this  was  a  convent  of 
San  Sebastian,  the  fraternity  of  which  had  remained  captives 
among  the  Moors,  supporting  themselves  poorly  by  making 
baskets,  but  permitted  to  continue  in  the  exercise  of  their  reli- 
gion. 

Still  filled  with  pious  compunction  for  the  trespass  he  had 
made,  the  count  ordered  that  the  shoes  should  be  taken  from 
his  horse  and  nailed  upon  the  door  of  the  church;  for  never, 
said  he,  shall  they  tread  any  other  ground  after  having  trod- 
den this  holy  place.  From  that  day,  we  are  told,  it  has  been 
the  custom  to  nail  the  shoes  of  horses  on  the  portal  of  that  con- 
vent—a custom  whicli  has  extended  to  many  other  places. 

The  worthy  Fray  Prudencia  de  Sandoval  records  a  marvel- 
lous memento  of  the  expedition  of  the  count  against  this  city, 
which  remained,  he  says,  until  his  day.     Not  far  from  the 


36  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

place,  on  the  road  which  passes  by  Lara,  is  to  bo  seen  tho  print 
of  his  horse's  hoofs  in  a  solid  rock,  which  has  received  the  im- 
pression as  though  it  had  been  made  in  softened  wax.*  It  is 
to  be  presumed  that  the  horse's  hoofs  had  been  gifted  with 
miraculous  hardness  in  reward  to  the  count  for  his  pious  obla- 
tion of  the  shoes. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

OF  THE  MOORISH  HOST  THAT  CAME  UP  FROM  CORDOVA,  AND 
HOW  THE  COUNT  REPAIRED  TO  THE  HERMITAGE  OF  SAN 
PEDRO,  AND  PRAYED  FOR  SUCCESS  AGAINST  THEM,  AND  RE- 
CEIVED ASSURANCE  OF  VICTORY  IN  A  VISION.— BATTLE  OF 
HAZINAS. 

The  worthy  Fray  Antonia  Agapida,  from  whose  manu- 
scripts this  memoir  is  extracted,  passes  by  many  of  the  strik- 
ing and  heroic  deeds  of  the  count,  which  crowd  the  pages  of 
ancient  chroniclers;  but  the  good  friar  ever  is  sure  to  dAvell 
with  delight  upon  any  of  those  miraculous  occurrences  which 
took  place  in  Spain  in  those  days,  and  which  showed  the 
marked  interposition  of  Heaven  in  behalf  of  the  Christian  war- 
riors in  their  battles  with  the  infidels.  Such  was  the  renowned 
battle  of  Hazinas,  which,  says  Agapida,  for  its  miraculous 
events  is  worthy  of  eternal  blazon. 

Now  so  it  was  that  the  Moorish  king  of  Cordova  had  sum- 
moned all  the  faithful,  both  of  Spain  and  Africa,  to  assist  him 
in  recovering  the  lands  wrested  from  him  by  the  unbelievers, 
and  especially  by  Count  Fernan  Gonzalez  in  his  late  victories; 
and  such  countless  legions  of  turbaned  warriors  were  assem- 
bled that  it  was  said  they  covered  the  plains  of  Andalusia  like 
swarms  of  locusts. 

Hearing  of  their  threatening  approach,  the  count  gathered 
together  his  forces  at  Piedrafita,  while  the  Moors  encamped  in 
Hazinas.  When,  however,  he  beheld  the-mighty  host  arrayed 
against  him,  his  heart  for  once  was  troubled  with  evil  fore- 
bodings, and,  calling  to  mind  the  cheering  prognostications  of 
the  friar.  Pe  lay o  on  a  like  occasion,  he  resolved  to  repair  again 

*  Sandoval,  p.  313. 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNAN  GONZALEZ.  37 

to  that  holy  man  for  counsel.  Leaving  his  camp,  therefore, 
secretly,  he  set  out,  accompanied  by  two  cavaliers,  to  seek  the 
chapel  which  he  had  ordered  to  be  built  at  the  hermitage  of 
San  Pedro,  on  the  mountain  overhanging  the  river  Arlanza, 
but  when  arrived  there  he  heard  to  his  great  grief  that  the 
worthy  friar  was  dead. 

Entering  the  chapel,  however,  he  knelt  down  at  the  altar 
and  prayed  for  success  in  the  coming  fight ;  humbly  represent- 
ing that  he  had  never,  like  many  of  the  kings  and  nobles  of 
Spain,  done  homage  to  the  infidels  and  acknowledged  them  foi 
sovereigns.  The  count  remained  a  long  time  at  prayer,  until 
sleep  gradually  stole  over  him ;  and  as  he  lay  slumbering  be- 
fore the  altar,  the  holy  Fray  Pelayo  appeared  before  him  in  a 
vision,  clad  in  garments  as  white  as  snow.  "Why  sleepcst 
thou,  Fernan  Gonzalez?"  said  he;  "arise,  and  go  forth,  and 
know  that  thou  shalt  conquer  those  Moors.  For,  inasmuch  as 
thou  art  a  faithful  vassal  of  the  Most  High,  he  has  commanded 
the  Apostle  San  Iago  and  myself,  with  many  angels,  to  come 
to  thy  aid,  and  we  will  appear  in  the  battle  clad  in  white 
armor,  with  each  of  us  a  red  cross  upon  our  pennon.  There- 
fore arise,  I  say,  and  go  hence  with  a  valiant  heart." 

The  count  awoke,  and  while  he  was  yet  musing  upon  the 
vision,  he  heard  a  voice,  saying,  "Arise,  and  get  thee  hence; 
why  dosfc  thou  linger?  Separate  thy  host  into  three  divisions: 
enter  the  field  of  battle  by  the  east,  with  the  smallest  division, 
and  I  will  be  with  thee ;  and  let  the  second  division  enter  by 
the  west,  and  that  shall  be  aided  by  San  Iago ;  and  let  the  third 
division  enter  by  the  north.  Know  that  I  am  San  Millan  who 
come  to  thee  with  this  message." 

The  count  departed  joyfully  from  the  chapel,  and  returned 
to  his  army;  and  when  he  told  his  troops  of  this,  his  second 
visit  to  the  hermitage,  and  of  the  vision  he  had  had,  and  how 
the  holy  friar  San  Pelayo  had  again  assured  him  of  victory, 
their  hearts  were  lifted  up,  and  they  rejoiced  to  serve  under  a 
leader  who  had  such  excellent  counsellors  in  war. 

In  the  evening  preceding  the  battle,  Don  Fernan  Gonzalez 
divided  his  forces  as  he  had  been  ordered.  The  first  division 
was  composed  of  two  hundred  horsemen  and  six  thousand  in- 
fantry ;  hardy  mountaineers,  light  of  foot  and  of  great  valor. 
In  the  advance  were  Don  Gustios  Gonzalez  of  Salas,  and  his 
seven  sons  and  two  nephews,  and  his  brother  Buy  Velasquez, 
and  a  valiant  cavalier  named  Gonzalo  Dias. 

The  second  division  was  led  by  Don  Lope  de  Biscaya,  with 


38  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

the  people  of  Burueba  and  Trevino,  and  Old  Castile  and  Castro 
and  the  Asturias.  Two  hundred  horsemen  and  six  thousand 
infantry. 

The  third  division  was  led  by  the  count  himself,  and  with 
him  went  Euy  Cavia,  and  Nuno  Cavia,  and  the  Velascos, 
whom  the  count  that  day  dubbed  knights,  and  twenty 
esquires  of  the  count,  whom  he  had  likewise  knighted.  His 
division  consisted  of  four  hundred  and  fifty  horse  and  fifteen 
hundred  foot ;  and  he  told  his  men  that  if  they  should  not  con- 
quer the  Moors  on  the  following  day,  they  should  draw  off 
from  the  battle  when  he  gave  the  word.  Late  at  night,  when 
all  the  camp,  excepting  the  sentinels  and  guards,  were  buried 
in  sleep,  a  light  suddenly  illumined  the  heavens,  and  a  great 
serpent  was  seen  in  the  ah1,  wounded  and  covered  with  blood, 
and  vomiting  flames,  and  making  a  loud  hissing  that  awakened 
all  the  soldiers.  They  rushed  out  of  their  tents,  and  ran 
hither  and  thither,  running  against  each  other  in  their  affright. 
Count  Fernan  Gonzalez  was  awakened  by  their  outcries,  but 
before  he  came  forth  the  serpent  had  disappeared.  He 
rebuked  the  terrors  of  his  people,  representing  to  them  that  the 
Moors  were  great  necromancers,  and  by  their  arts  could  raise 
devils  to  their  aid;  and  that  some  Moorish  astrologer  had 
doubtless  raised  this  spectrum  to  alarm  them;  but  he  bade 
them  be  of  good  heart,  since  they  had  San  Iago  on  their  side, 
and  might  set  Moor,  astrologer,  and  devil  at  defiance. 

In  the  first  day's  fight  Don  Fernan  fought  hand  to  hand  with 
a  powerful  Moor,  who  had  desired  to  try  his  prowess  wich 
him.  It  was  an  obstinate  contest,  in  which  the  Moor  was 
slain;  but  the  count  was  so  badly  wounded  that  he  fell  to  the 
earth,  and  had  not  his  men  surrounded  and  defended  him,  he 
would  have  been  slain  or  captured.  The  battle  lasted  all  day 
long,  and  Gustios  Gonzalez  and  his  kindred  warriors  showed 
prodigies  of  valor.  Don  Fernan,  having  had  his  wounds 
stanched,  remounted  his  horse  and  galloped  about,  giving 
courage  to  his  men ;  but  he  was  covered  with  dust  and  blood, 
and  so  hoarse  that  he  could  no  longer  be  heard.  The  sun 
went  down,  the  Moors  kept  on  fighting,  confiding  in  their 
great  numbers.  The  count,  seeing  the  night  approaching, 
ordered  the  trumpets  to  be  sounded,  and,  collecting  his  troops, 
made  one  general  charge  on  the  Moors,  and  drove  them  from 
the  field.  He  then  drew  off  his  men  to  their  tents,  where  the 
weary  troops  found  refreshment  and  repose,  though  they 
slept  all  night  on  their  arms. 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERN  AN  GONZALEZ.  39 

On  the  second  day  the  count  rose  before  the  dawn,  and  hav- 
ing attended  mass  like  a  good  Christian,  attended  next  to  his 
horses,  like  a  good  cavalier,  seeing  with  his  own  eyes  that  they 
were  well  fed  and  groomed,  and  prepared  for  the  field.  The 
battle  this  day  was  obstinate  as  the  day  before,  with  great 
valor  and  loss  on  either  side. 

On  the  third  day  the  count  led  forth  his  forces  at  an  early 
hour,  raising  his  silver  standard  of  the  cross,  and  praying  de- 
voutly for  aid.  Then  lowering  their  lances,  the  CastUians 
shouted  San  Iago !  San  la  go !  and  rushed  to  the  attack. 

Don  Gustios  Gonzalo  de  Salas,  the  leader  of  one  of  the  divi- 
sions, made  a  lane  into  the  centre  of  the  Moorish  host,  dealing 
death  on  either  side.  He  was  met  by  a  Moorish  cavalier  of 
powerful  frame.  Covering  themselves  with  their  shields,  they 
attacked  each  other  with  great  fury;  but  the  days  of  Gustios 
Gonzalo  were  numbered,  for  the  Moor  slew  him,  and  with  him 
fell  a  nephew  of  Count  Fernan,  and  many  of  his  principal  cav- 
aliers. 

Count  Fernan  Gonzalez  encountered  the  Moor  who  had  just 
slain  his  friend.  The  infidel  would  have  avoided  him,  having 
heard  that  never  man  escaped  alive  from  a  conflict  with  him ; 
but  the  count  gave  him  a  furious  thrust  with  his  lance,  which 
stretched  him  dead  upon  the  field. 

The  Moors,  however,  continued  to  press  the  count  sorely, 
and  then*  numbers  threatened  to  overwhelm  him.  Then  he 
put  up  a  prayer  for  the  aid  promised  in  his  vision,  and  of  a 
sudden  the  Apostle  San  Iago  appeared,  with  a  great  and  shin- 
ing company  of  angels  in  white,  bearing  the  device  of  a  red 
cross,  and  all  rushing  on  the  Moors.  The  Moors  were  dismayed 
at  the  sight  of  this  reinforcement  to  the  enemy.  The  Chris- 
tians, on  the  other  hand,  recovered  their  forces,  knowing  the 
Apostle  San  Iago  to  be  at  hand.  They  charged  the  Moors  Avith 
new  vigor,  and  put  them  to  flight,  and  pursued  them  for  two 
days,  killing  and  making  captive.  They  then  returned  and 
gathered  together  the  bodies  of  the  Christians  who  had  been 
slain,  and  buried  them  in  the  chapel  of  San  Pedro  of  Allan  za, 
and  in  other  hermitages.  The  bodies  of  the  Moors  were  piled 
up  and  covered  with  earth,  forming  a  pile  which  is  still  to  be 
seen  on  the  field  of  battle. 

Some  have  ascribed  to  the  signal  worn  in  this  battle  by  the 
celestial  warriors  the  origin  of  the  Cross  of  Calatrava. 


40  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  COUNT  IMPRISONED  BY  THE  KING  OF  LEON. — THE  COUNTESS 
CONCERTS  HIS  ESCAPE. — LEON  AND  CASTILE  UNITED  BY  THE 
MARRIAGE  OP  THE  PRINCE  ORDONO  WITH  URRACA,  THE  DAUGH- 
TER OP  THE  COUNT  BY  HIS  FIRST  WIFE. 

Not  long  after  this  most  renowned  and  marvellous  battle,  a 
Moorish  captain  named  Aceyfa  became  a  vassal  of  the  Count 
Don  Fernan.  Under  his  protection,  and  that  of  a  rich  and 
powerful  Castilian  cavalier  named  Diego  Munon,  he  rebuilt 
Salamanca  and  Ledesma,  and  several  places  on  the  river 
Tormes,  which  had  been  desolated  and  deserted  in  times  past. 

Ramiro  the  Second,  who  was  at  this  time  King  of  Leon,  was 
alarmed  at  seeing  a  strong  line  of  Moorish  fortresses  erected 
along  the  borders  of  his  territories,  and  took  the  field  with  an 
army  to  drive  the  Moor  Aceyfa  from  the  land.  The  proud  spirit 
of  Count  Fernan  Gonzalez  was  aroused  at  this  attack  upon  his 
Moorish  vassal,  which  he  considered  an  indignity  offered  to 
himself ;  so  being  seconded  by  Don  Diego  Munon,  he  marched 
forth  with  his  chivalry  to  protect  the  Moor.  In  the  present 
instance  he  had  trusted,  to  his  own  head,  and  had  neglected  to 
seek  advice  of  saint  or  hermit ;  so  his  army  was  defeated  by 
King  Ramiro,  and  himself  and  Don  Diego  Munon  taken  pris- 
oner. The  latter  was  sent  in  chains  to  the  castle  of  Gordon; 
but  the  count  was  carried  to  Leon,  where  he  was  confined  in  a 
tower  of  the  wall,  which  is  to  this  day  pointed  out  as  his 
prison.* 

All  Castile  was  thrown  into  grief  and  consternation  by  this 
event,  and  lamentations  were  heard  throughout  the  land,  as 
though  the  count  had  been  dead.  The  countess,  however,  did 
not  waste  time  in  idle  tears,  for  she  was  a  lady  of  more  valiant 
spirit.  She  forthwith  assembled  five  hundred  cavaliers,  chosen 
men  of  tried  loyalty  and  devotion  to  the  count.  They  met  in 
the  chapel  of  the  palace,  and  took  an  oath  upon  the  Holy 
Evangelists  to  follow  the  countess  through  all  difficulties  and 


*  In  the  Cronica  General  de  Espana.  this  imprisonment  is  said  to  have  been  by 
Kins:  Sancho  the  Fat:  but  the  cautious  Agapida  goes  according  to  his  favorite  San- 
doval in  attributing  it  to  King  Ramiro,  and  in  so  doing  he  is  supported  by  the 
Chronicle  of  Bleda.     L.  3.  c.  19. 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNAN  GONZALEZ.  41 

dangers,  and  to  obey  implicitly  all  her  commands  for  the 
rescue  of  their  lord.  With  this  band  the  countess  departed 
secretly  at  nightfall,  and  travelled  rapidly  until  morning,  when 
they  left  the  roads,  and  took  to  the  mountains,  lest  their  march 
should  be  discovered.  Arrived  near  Leon,  she  halted  her  band 
in  a  thick  wood  in  the  mountain  of  Samosa  where  she  ordered 
them  to  remain  in  secrecy.  Then  clothing  herself  as  a  pilgrim 
with  her  staff  and  pannier,  she  sent  word  to  King  Eamiro  that 
she  was  on  a  pilgrimage  to  San  Iago,  and  entreated  that  she 
might  have  permission  to  visit  her  husband  in  his  prison. 
King  Ramiro  not  merely  granted  her  request,  but  sallied  forth 
above  a  league  from  the  city  with  a  great  retinue  to  do  her 
honor.  So  the  countess  entered  a  second  time  the  prison  where 
the  count  lay  in  chains,  and  stood  before  him  as  his  protecting 
angel.  At  sight  of  him  in  this  miserable  and  dishonored  state, 
however,  the  valor  of  spirit  which  had  hitherto  sustained  her 
gave  way,  and  tears  flowed  from  her  eyes.  The  count  re- 
ceived her  joyfully,  and  reproached  her  with  her  tears ;  ' '  for 
it  becomes  us,"  said  he,  "to  submit  to  what  is  imposed  upon 
us  by  God." 

The  countess  now  sent  to  entreat  the  king  that  while  she  re- 
mained with  the  count  his  chains  should  be  taken  off.  The 
king  again  granted  her  request;  and  the  count  wns  freed  from 
his  irons  and  an  excellent  bed  prepared  in  his  prison. 

The  countess  remained  with  him  all  night  and  concerted  his 
escape.  Before  it  was  daylight  she  gave  him  her  pilgrim's 
dress  and  staff,  and  the  count  went  forth  from  the  chamber 
disguised  as  his  wife.  The  porter  at  the  outer  portal,  thinking 
it  to  be  the  countess,  would  have  waited  for  orders  from  the 
king;  but  the  count,  in  a  i'e;gned  voice,  entreated  not  to  be  de- 
tained, lest  he  should  not  be  able  to  perform  his  pilgrimage. 
The  porter,  mistrusting  no  deceit,  opened  the  door.  The  count 
issued  forth,  repaired  to  a  place  pointed  out  by  the  coimtess, 
where  the  two  cavaliers  awaited  him  with  a  fleet  horse.  They 
dl  sallied  quietly  forth  from  the  city  at  the  opening  of  the 
v?aces,  until  they  found  themselves  clear  of  the  walls,  when 
they  put  spurs  to  their  horses  and  made  their  way  to  the 
mountain  of  Samosa.  Here  the  count  was  received  with 
shouts  of  joy  by  the  cavaliers  whom  tho  countess  had  left  there 
in  concealment. 

As  the  day  advanced  the  keeper  of  the  prison  entered  the 
apartment  of  Don  Fornan,  but  was  astonished  to  find  there 
the  beautiful  countess  in  place  of  her  Avarrior  husband.    He 


42  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

conducted  her  before  the  king,  accusing  her  of  the  fraud  by 
which  she  had  effected  the  escape  of  the  count.  King  Ramiro 
was  greatly  incensed,  and  he  demanded  of  the  countess  how 
she  dared  to  do  such  an  act.  "  I  dared,"  replied  she,  "  because 
I  saw  my  husband  in  misery,  and  felt  it  my  duty  to  relieve 
him ;  and  I  dared  because  I  was  the  daughter  of  a  king,  and 
the  wife  of  a  distinguished  cavalier;  as  such  I  trust  to  your 
chivalry  to  treat  me." 

The  king  was  charmed  with  her  intrepidity.  "  Senora,"  said 
he,  "you  have  acted  well  and  like  a  noble  lady,  and  it  will  re- 
dound  to  your  laud  and  honor."  So  he  commanded  that  she 
should  be  conducted  to  her  husband  in  a  manner  befitting  a 
lady  of  high  and  noble  rank;  and  the  count  was  overjoyed  to 
receive  her  in  safety,  and  they  returned  to  their  dominions 
and  entered  Burgos  at  the  head  of  their  train  of  cavaliers, 
amidst  the  transports  and  acclamations  of  their  people.  And 
King  Ramiro  sought  the  amity  of  Count  Fernan  Gonzalez,  and 
proposed  that  they  should  unite  their  houses  by  some  matri- 
monial alliance  which  should  serve  as  a  bond  of  mutual  se- 
curity. The  count  gladly  listened  to  his  proposals.  He  had  a 
fair  daughter  named  Urraca,  by  his  first  wife,  who  was  now 
arrived  at  a  marriageable  age;  so  it  was  agreed  that  nuptials 
should  be  solemnized  between  her  and  the  Prince  Ordoiio,  son 
cf  King  Ramiro;  and  all  Leon  and  Castile  rejoiced  at  this 
union,  which  promised  tranquillity  to  the  land. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

MOORISH  INCURSION  INTO  CASTILE. —BATTLE  OF  SAN  ESTEVAN. — 
OF  PASCUAL  VIVAS  AND  THE  MIRACLE  THAT  BEFELL  HIM. — 
DEATH  OF  ORDONO  III. 

For  several  succeeding  years  of  the  career  of  this  most  re- 
doubtable cavalier,  the  most  edifying  and  praiseworthy  traces 
which  remain,  says  Fray  Antonio  Agapida,  are  to  be  found  in 
the  archives  of  various  monasteries,  consisting  of  memorials  of 
pious  gifts  and  endowments  made  by  himself  and  his  countess, 
Dona  Sancha. 

In  the  process  of  time  King  Ramiro  died,  and  was  succeeded 
by  his  son  Ordoiio  III.,  the  same  who  had  married  Urraca,  the 


CHRONICLE  OF  FFJINAN  GONZALEZ.  43 

daughter  of  Count  Fernan.  He  was  surnamed  the  Fierce, 
either  from  his  savage  temper  or  savage  aspect.  He  had  a 
step-brother  named  Don  Sancho,  nephew,  by  the  mother's  side, 
of  King  Garcia  of  Navarre,  surnamed  the  Trembler.  This  Don 
Sancho  rose  in  arms  against  Ordoiio  at  the  very  outset  of  his 
reign,  seeking  to  deprive  him  of  his  crown.  He  applied  for 
assistance  to  his  uncle  Garcia  and  to  Count  Fernan  Gonzalez 
and  it  is  said  both  favored  his  pretensions.  Nay,  the  count 
soon  appeared  in  the  field  in  company  with  King  Garcia  the 
Trembler,  in  support  of  Prince  Sancho.  It  may  seem  strange 
that  he  should  take  up  arms  against  his  own  son-in-law ;  and 
so  it  certainly  appeared  to  Ordoiio  III. ,  for  he  was  so  incensed 
against  the  count  tbat  he  repudiated  his  wife  Urraca  and  sent 
her  back  to  her  father,  telling  him  that  since  he  would  not  ac- 
knowledge him  as  king,  he  should  not  have  him  for  son-in-law. 

Tbe  kingdom  now  became  a  prey  to  civil  wars;  the  restless 
part  of  the  subjects  of  King  Ordoiio  rose  in  rebellion,  and 
everything  was  in  confusion.  King  Ordoiio  succeeded,  how- 
ever, in  quelling  the  rebellion,  and  defended  himself  so  ably 
against  King  Garcia  and  Count  Fernan  Gonzalez,  that  they  re- 
turned home  without  effecting  their  object. 

About  this  time,  say  the  records  of  Compostello,  the  sinful 
dissensions  of  the  Christians  brought  on  them  a  visible  and 
awful  scourge  from  Heaven.  A  great  flame,  or,  as  it  were,  a 
cloud  of  fire,  passed  throughout  the  laud,  burning  towns,  de- 
stroying men  and  beasts,  and  spreading  horror  and  devastation 
even  over  the  sea.  It  passed  over  Zamora,  consuming  a  great 
part  of  the  place ;  it  scorched  Castro  Xerez  likewise,  and  Bre- 
biesco  and  Pan  Corvo  in  its  progress,  and  in  Burgos  one  hundred 
houses  were  consumed. 

"These,"  says  the  worthy  Agapida,  "were  fiery  tokens  01 
the  displeasure  of  Heaven  at  the  sinful  conduct  of  the  Chris- 
tians in  warring  upon  each  other,  instead  of  joining  their  arms 
like  brethren  in  the  righteous  endeavor  to  extirpate  the  vile  sect 
of  Mahomet." 

While  the  Christians  were  thus  fighting  among  themselves, 
the  Moors,  taking  advantage  of  their  discord,  came  with  a  great 
army,  and  made  an  incursion  into  Castile  as  far  as  Burgos. 
King  Ordoiio  and  Count  Fernan  Gonzalez,  alarmed  at  the 
common  clanger,  came  to  a  reconciliation,  and  took  arms  to- 
gether against  the  moors ;  thougn  it  does  not  appear  that  the 
king  received  again  his  repudiated  wife  Urraca.  These  con- 
federate princes  gave  the  Moors  a  great  battle  near  to  San 


44  Moomsn  CHRONICLES. 

Estevan.  "This  battle,"  says  Fray  Antonio  Agapida,  "is 
chiefly  memorable  for  a  miracle  which  occurred  there,"  and 
which  is  recorded  by  the  good  friar  with  an  unction  and  perfect 
credence  worthy  of  a  monkish  chronicler. 

The  Christians  were  incastellated  at  San  Estevan  de  Gormaz, 
which  is  near  the  banks  of  the  Douro.  The  Moors  had  posses- 
sion of  the  fortress  of  Gormaz,  about  a  league  further  up  the 
river  on  a  lofty  and  rocky  height. 

The  battle  commenced  at  the  dawn  of  day.  Count  Fernan 
Gonzalez,  however,  before  taking  the  held,  repaired  with  his 
principal  cavaliers  to  the  church,  to  attend  the  first  morning's 
mass.  Now,  at  this  time,  there  was  in  the  service  of  the  count 
a  brave  cavalier  named  Pascual  Vivas,  who  was  as  pious  as  he 
was  brave,  and  would  pray  with  as  much  fervor  and  obstinacy 
as  he  would  fight.  This  cavalier  made  it  a  religious  rule  with 
himself,  or  rather  had  made  a  solemn  vow,  that,  whenever  he 
entered  a  church  in  the  morning,  he  would  on  no  account  leave 
it  until  all  the  masses  were  finished. 

On  the  present  occasion  the  firmness  of  this  brave  but  pious 
cavalier  was  put  to  a  severe  proof.  When  the  first  mass  was 
finished,  the  count  and  his  cavaliers  rose  and  sallied  from  the 
church  in  clanking  armor,  and  soon  after  the  sound  of  trumpet 
and  quick  tramp  of  steed  told  that  they  were  off  to  the  en- 
counter. Pascual  Vivas,  however,  remained  kneeling  all  in 
armor  before  the  altar,  waiting,  according  to  custom,  until  all 
the  masses  should  be  finished.  The  masses  that  morning  were 
numerous,  and  hour  after  hour  passed  away;  yet  still  the 
cavalier  remained  kneeling  all  in  armor,  with  weapon  in  hand, 
yet  so  zealous  in  his  devotion  that  he  never  turned  his  head. 

All  this  while  the  esquire  of  the  cavalier  was  at  the  door  of 
the  church,  holding  his  war-horse,  and  the  esquire  beheld  with 
surprise  the  count  and  his  warriors  depart,  while  his  lord  re- 
mained in  the  chapel;  and,  from  the  height  on  which  the  chapel 
stood,  he  could  see  the  Christian  host  encounter  the  Moors  at 
the  ford  of  the  river,  and  coidd  hear  the  distant  sound  of  trum- 
pets and  din  of  battle ;  and  at  the  sound  the  war-horse  pricked 
up  his  ears,  snuffed  the  air,  and  pawed  the  earth,  and  showed 
all  the  eagerness  of  a  noble  steed  to  be  among  the  armed  men, 
but  still  Pascual  Vivas  came  not  out  of  the  chapel.  The  es- 
quire was  wroth,  and  blushed  for  his  lord,  for  he  thought  it 
was  through  cowardice  and  not  piety  that  he  remained  in  the 
chapel  while  his  comrades  were  fighting  in  the  field. 
At  length  the  masses  were  finished,  and  Pascual  Vivas  was 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERN  AN  GONZALEZ.  45 

about  to  sally  forth  when  horsemen  came  riding  up  the  hill 
with  shouts  of  victory,  for  the  battle  was  over  and  the  Moors 
completely  vanquished. 

When  Pascual  Vivas  heard  this  he  was  so  troubled  in  mind 
that  he  dared  not  leave  the  chapel  nor  come  into  the  presence 
of  the  count,  for  he  said  to  himself,  "Surely  I  shall  be  looked 
upon  as  a  recreant  knight,  who  have  hidden  myself  in  the  hour 
of  danger."  Shortly,  however,  came  some  of  his  fellow-cava- 
liers, summoning  him  to  the  presence  of  the  count ;  and  as  he 
went  with  a  beating  heart,  they  lauded  him  for  the  valor  he 
had  displayed  and  the  great  services  he  had  rendered,  saying 
that  to  the  prowess  of  his  arm  they  owed  the  victory.  The  good 
knight,  imagining  they  were  scoffing  at  him,  felt  still  more 
cast  down  in  spirit,  and  entered  the  presence  of  the  count  cov- 
ered with  confusion.  Here  again  he  was  received  with  praises 
and  caresses,  at  which  he  was  greatly  astonished,  but  still 
thought  it  all  done  in  mockery.  "When  the  truth  came  to  be 
known,  however,  ail  present  were  filled  with  wonder,  for  it 
appeared  as  if  this  cavalier  had  been,  at  the  same  moment,  in 
the  chapel,  and  in  the  field ;  for  while  he  remained  on  his  knees 
before  the  altar,  with  his  steed  pawing  the  earth  at  the  door,  a 
warrior  exactly  resembling  him,  with  the  same  arms,  device, 
and  steed,  had  appeared  in  the  hottest  of  the  fight,  penetrating 
and  overthrowing  whole  squadrons  of  Moors ;  that  he  had  cut 
his  way  to  the  standard  of  the  enemy,  killed  the  standard- 
bearer,  and  carried  off  the  banner  in  triumph ;  that  his  pour- 
point  and  coat  of  mail  were  cut  to  pieces,  and  his  horse  covered 
with  wounds;  yet  still  he  fought  on,  and  through  his  valor 
chiefly  the  victory  was  obtained. 

What  more  moved  astonishment  was  that  for  every  wound 
received  by  the  warrior  and  his  steed  in  the  field,  there  appeared 
marks  on  the  pourpoint  and  coat  of  mail  and  upon  the  steed  of 
Pascual  Vivas,  so  that  he  had  the  semblance  of  having  been  in 
the  severest  press  of  the  battle. 

The  matter  was  now  readily  explained  by  the  worthy  friars 
who  followed  the  armies  in  those  days,  and  who  were  skilful 
in  expounding  the  miracles  daily  occurring  in  those  holy  wars. 
A  miraculous  intervention  had  been  vouchsafed  to  Pascual 
Vivas.  That  his  piety  in  remaining  at  his  prayers  might  not 
put  him  to  shame  before  sinf ul  men,  an  angel  bearing  his  form 
and  semblance  had  taken  his  place  in  battle,  and  fought  while 
he  prayed. 

The  matter  being  thus  explained,  all  present  were  filled  with 


4G  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

pious  admiration,  and  Pascual  Vivas,  if  he  ceased  to  be  extolled 
as  a  warrior,  came  near  being  canonized  as  a  saint.* 

King  Ordoiio  III.  did  not  long  survive  this  battle.  Scarce 
had  he  arrived  at  Zaniora  on  his  way  homeward,  when  he 
was  seized  with  a  mortal  malady  of  which  he  died.  He  was 
succeeded  by  his  brother  Don  Sancho,  the  same  who  had  for 
merly  endeavored  to  dispossess  him  of  his  throne. 


CHAPTER  XVIL 

KING  SANCHO  THE  FAT.— OF  THE  HOMAGE  HE  EXACTED  FROM 
COUNT  FERNAN  GONZALEZ,  AND  OF  THE  STRANGE  BARGAIN 
THAT  HE  MADE  WITH  HIM  FOR  THE  PURCHASE  OF  HIS  HORSE 
AND  FALCON. 

King  Sancho  L,  on  ascending  the  throne,  held  a  cortes  at 
Leon,  where  all  the  great  men  of  the  kingdom  and  the  princes 
who  owed  allegiance  to  him  were  expected  to  attend  and  pay 
homage.  As  the  court  of  Leon  was  excessively  tenacious  of 
its  claim  to  sovereignty  over  Castile,  the  absence  of  Count 
Fernan  Gonzalez  was  noticed  with  great  displeasure  by  the 
king,  who  sent  missives  to  him  commanding  his  attendance. 
The  count  being  proud  of  heart,  and  standing  much  upon  the 
independence  of  Castile,  was  unwilling  to  kiss  the  hand  of  any 
one  in  token  of  vassalage.  He  was  at  length  induced  to  stifle 
his  repugnance  and  repair  to  the  court,  but  he  went  in  almost 
regal  style  and  with  a  splendid  retinue,  more  like  a  sovereig.u 
making  a  progress  through  his  dominions. 

As  he  approached  the  city  of  Leon,  King  Sancho  came  forth 
in  great  state  to  receive  him,  and  they  met  apparently  as 
friends,  but  there  was  enmity  against  each  other  in  their 
hearts. 

The  rich  and  gallant  array  with  which  Count  Fernan  made 

*  Exactly  the  same  kind  of  miracle  is  recorded  as  happening  in  the  same  place  to 
a  cavalier  of  the  name  of  Don  Fernan  Antolenez,  in  the  service  of  the  Count  Garcia 
Fernandez.  Fray  Antonio  Agapida  has  no  doubt  that  the  same  miracle  did  actually 
happen  to  both  cavaliers;  "  for  in  those  days."  says  he,  "  there  was  such  a  demand 
for  miracles  that  the  same  had  frequently  to  be  repeated;"  witness  the  repeated 
appearance  of  San  Iago  in  precisely  the  same  manner,  to  save  Christian  armies 
from  imminent  danger  of  defeat,  and  achieve  wonderful  victories  over  the  infidels, 
as  we  find  recorded  throughout  the  Spanish  chronicles. 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNAN  GONZALEZ.  47 

his  entry  in  Leon  was  the  theme  of  every  xongue ;  but  nothing 
attracted  more  notice  than  a  falcon  thoroughly  trained,  which 
he  carried  on  his  hand,  and  an  Arabian  horse  of  wonderful 
beauty,  which  he  had  gained  in  his  wars  with  the  Moors. 
King  Sancho  was  seized  with  a  vehement  desire  to  possess  this 
horse  and  falcon,  and  offered  to  purchase  them  of  the  count. 
Don  Fernan  haughtily  declined  to  enter  into  traffic ;  but  offered 
them  to  the  monarch  as  a  gift.  The  king  was  equally  punc- 
tilious in  refusing  to  accept  a  favor ;  but  as  monarchs  do  not 
easily  forego  anything  on  which  they  have  set  their  hearts,  it 
became  evident  to  Count  Fernan  that  it  was  necessary,  for  the 
sake  of  peace,  to  part  with  his  horse  and  falcon.  To  save  his 
dignity,  however,  he  asked  a  price  corresponding  to  his  rank ; 
for  it  was  beneath  a  cavalier,  he  said,  to  sell  his  things  cheap, 
like  a  mean  man.  He  demanded,  therefore,  one  thousand 
marks  of  silver  for  the  horse  and  falcon,— to  be  paid  on  a  stip- 
ulated day ;  if  not  paid  on  that  day  the  price  to  doubled  on  the 
next,  and  on  each  day's  further  delay  the  price  should  in  like 
manner  be  doubled.  To  these  terms  the  king  gladly  consented, 
and  the  terms  were  specified  in  a  written  agreement,  which 
was  duly  signed  and  witnessed.  The  king  thus  gained  the 
horse  and  falcon,  but  it  will  be  hereinafter  shown  that  this 
indulgence  of  his  fancy  cost  him  dear. 

This  eager  desire  for  an  Arabian  steed  appears  the  more  sin- 
gular in  Sancho  the  First,  from  his  being  so  corpulent  that  he 
could  not  sit  on  horseback.  Hence  he  is  commonly  known 
in  history  by  the  appellation  of  King  Sancho  the  Fat.  His 
unwieldy  bulk,  also,  may  be  one  reason  why  he  soon  lost  the 
favor  of  his  warrior  subjects,  who  looked  upon  him  as  a  mere 
trencherman  and  bed-presser,  and  not  fitted  to  command  men 
who  lived  in  the  saddle,  and  had  rather  fight  than  either  eat 
or  sleep. 

King  Sancho  saw  that  he  might  soon  have  hard  fighting  to 
maintain  his  throne;  and  how  could  he  figure  as  a  warrior 
who  could  not  mount  on  horseback?  In  his  anxiety  he  repaired 
to  his  uncle  Garcia,  king  of  Navarre,  surnamed  the  Trembler, 
who  was  an  exceeding  meagre  man,  and  asked  counsel  of  him 
what  he  should  do  to  cure  himself  of  this  troublesome  corpu- 
lency. Garcia  the  Trembler  was  totally  at  a  loss  for  a  recipe, 
his  own  leanness  being  a  gift  of  Nature ;  he  advised  him,  how- 
ever, to  repair  to  Abderahman,  the  Miramamohn  of  Spain  and 
King  of  Cordova,  with  whom  he  was  happily  at  peace,  and 
consult  with  him,  and  seek  advice  of  the  Arabian  physicians 


48  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

resident  at  Cordova — the  Moors  being  generally  a  spare  and 
active  people,  and  the  Arabian  physicians  skilful  above  all 
others  in  the  treatment  of  diseases. 

King  Sancho  the  Fat,  therefore,  sent  amicable  messages  be- 
forehand to  the  Moorish  miramamolin,  and  followed  them  as 
fast  as  his  corpulency  would  permit ;  and  he  was  well  received 
by  the  Moorish  sovereign,  and  remained  for  a  long  time  at 
Cordova,  diligently  employed  in  decreasing  his  rotundity. 

While  the  corpulent  king  was  thus  growing  leaner,  dis- 
content broke  out  among  his  subjects  at  home;  and  Count 
Fenian  Gonzalez,  taking  advantage  of  it,  stirred  up  an  in- 
surrection, and  placed  upon  the  throne  Leon  Ordono  the 
Fourth,  surnamed  the  Bad,  who  was  a  kinsman  of  the  late 
King  Ordono  III. ,  and  he  moreover  gave  him  his  daughter  for 
wife— his  daughter  Urraca,  the  repudiated  wife  of  the  late 
king. 

If  the  good  Count  Fernan  Gonzalez  supposed  he  had  fortified 
himself  by  this  alliance,  and  that  his  daughter  was  now  fixed 
for  the  second  time,  and  more  firmly  than  ever,  on  the  throne 
of  Leon,  he  was  grievously  deceived;  for  Sancho  I.  returned 
from  Cordova  at  the  head  of  a  powerful  host  of  Moors,  and 
was  no  longer  to  be  called  the  Fat,  for  he  had  so  well  succeeded 
under  the  regimen  prescribed  by  the  miramamolin  and  his 
Arabian  physicians,  that  he  could  vault  into  the  saddle  with 
merely  putting  his  hand  upon  the  pommel. 

Ordono  IV.  was  a  man  of  puny  heart ;  no  sooner  did  he  hear 
of  the  approach  of  King  Sancho,  and  of  his  marvellous  leanness 
and  agility,  than  he  was  seized  with  terror,  and  abandoning 
his  throne  and  his  twice-repudiated  spouse,  Urraca,  he  made 
for  the  mountains  of  Asturias,  or,  as  others  assert,  was  over- 
taken by  the  Moors  and  killed  with  lances. 


CHAPTEE  XVIII. 

FURTHER  OF  THE  HORSE  AND  FALCON. 

King  Sancho  I.,  having  re-established  himself  on  the  throne, 
and  recovered  the  good-will  of  his  subjects  by  his  leanness  and 
hoi-semanship,  sent  a  stern  message  to  Count  Fenian  Gonzalez 
to  come  to  hi3  cortes,  or  resign  his  countship.    The  count  was 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNAN  GONZALEZ.  49 

exceedingly  indignant  at  this  order,  and  feared,  moreover, 
that  some  indignity  or  injury  would  be  offered  him  should  he 
repair  to  Leon.  He  made  the  message  known  to  his  principal 
cavaliers,  and  requested  their  advice.  Most  of  them  were  of 
opinion  that  he  should  not  go  to  the  cortes.  Don  Fernan  de- 
clared, however,  that  he  would  not  act  disloyally  in  omitting 
to  do  that  which  the  counts  of  Castile  had  always  performed, 
although  he  felt  that  he  incurred  the  risk  of  death  or  imprison- 
ment. Leaving  his  son,  Garcia  Fernandez,  therefore,  hi  charge 
of  his  counsellors,  he  departed  for  Leon  with  only  seven  cav- 
aliers. 

As  he  approached  the  gates  of  that  city,  no  one  came  forth 
to  greet  him,  as  had  always  been  the  custom.  This  he  con- 
sidered an  evil  sign.  Presenting  himself  before  the  king,  he 
would  have  kissed  his  hand,  but  the  monarch  withheld  it. 
He  charged  the  count  with  being  vainglorious  and  disloyal: 
with  having  absented  himself  from  the  cortes  and  conspired 
against  his  throne ; — for  all  which  he  should  make  atonement, 
and  should  give  hostages  or  pledges  for  his  good  faith  before  he 
left  the  court. 

The  count  in  reply  accounted  for  absenting  himself  from 
the  cortes  by  the  perfidious  treatment  he  had  formerly  experi- 
enced at  Leon.  As  to  any  grievances  the  king  might  have  to 
complain  of,  he  stood  ready  to  redress  them,  provided  the 
king  Avould  make  good  his  own  written  engagement,  signed 
with  his  own  hand  and  sealed  with  his  own  seal,  to  pay  for  the 
horse  and  falcon  which  he  had  purchased  of  the  count  on  his 
former  visit  to  Leon.  Three  years  had  now  elapsed  since  the 
day  appointed  for  the  payment,  and  in  the  mean  time  the 
price  had  gone  on  daily  doubling,  according  to  stipulation. 

They  parted  mutually  indignant ;  and,  after  the  count  had 
retired  to  his  quarters,  the  king,  piqued  to  maintain  his  royal 
word,  summoned  his  major-domo,  and  ordered  him  to  take  a  • 
large  amount  of  treasure  and  carry  it  to  the  Count  of  Castile 
in  payment  of  his  demand.  So  the  major-domo  repaired  to 
the  count  with  a  great  sack  of  money  to  settle  with  him  for 
the  horse  and  hawk ;  but  when  he  came  to  cast  up  the  account, 
and  double  it  each  day  that  had  intervened  since  the  appointed 
day  of  payment,  the  major-domo,  though  an  expert  man  at 
figures,  was  totally  confounded,  and,  returning  to  the  king, 
assured  him  that  all  the  money  in  the  world  would  not  suffice 
to  pay  the  debt.  King  Sancho  was  totally  at  a  loss  how  to 
keep  his  word,  and  pay  off  a  debt  which  was  more  than 


50  MOORISH   CHRONICLES. 

enough  to  ruin  him.  Grievously  did  he  repent  his  first  ex- 
perience in  traffic,  and  found  that  it  is  not  safe  even  for  a 
monarch  to  trade  in  horses. 

In  the  mean  time  the  count  was  suffered  to  return  to  Castile ; 
hut  he  did  not  let  the  matter  rest  here ;  for,  being  sorely  in- 
censed at  the  indignities  he  had  experienced,  he  sent  missive;-' 
to  King  Sancho,  urging  his  demand  of  payment  for  the  horse 
and  falcon— menacing  otherwise  to  make  seizures  by  way  of 
indemnification.  Receiving  no  satisfactory  reply,  he  made  a 
foray  into  the  kingdom  of  Leon,  and  brought  off  great  spoil  of 
sheep  and  cattle. 

King  Sancho  now  saw  that  the  count  was  too  bold  and 
urgent  a  creditor  to  be  trifled  with.  In  his  perplexity  he  as- 
sembled the  estates  of  his  kingdom,  and  consulted  them  upon 
this  momentous  affair.  His  counsellors,  like  himself,  were 
grievously  perplexed  between  the  sanctity  of  the  royal  word 
and  the  enormity  of  the  debt.  After  much  deliberation  they 
suggested  a  compromise — the  Count  Fenian  Gonzalez  to  relin- 
quish the  debt,  and  in  lieu  thereof  to  be  released  from  his  vas- 
salage. 

The  count  agreed  right  gladly  to  this  compromise,  being 
thus  relieved  from  all  tribute  and  imposition,  and  from  the 
necessity  of  kissing  the  hand  of  any  man  in  the  world  as  his 
sovereign.  Thus  did  King  Sancho  pay  with  the  sovereignty 
of  Castile  for  a  horse  and  falcon,  and  thus  were  the  Castilians 
relieved,  by  a  skilful  bargain  in  horse-dealing,  froni  all  subjec- 
tion to  the  kingdom  of  Leon.* 


CHAPTEE  XIX. 

THE  LAST  CAMPAIGN  OF  COUNT  FERNAN.  — HIS  DEATH. 

The  good  Count  Fernan  Gonzalez  was  now  stricken  in  years. 
The  fire  of  youth  was  extinct,  the  pride  and  ambition  of  man- 
hood were  over;  instead  of  erecting  palaces  and  lofty  castles, 
he  began  now  to  turn  his  thoughts  upon  the  grave  and  to  build 
his  last  earthly  habitation,  the  sepulchre. 

Before  erecting  his  own,  he  had  one  built  of  rich  and  stately 

*  Cronica  de  Alonzo  el  Sabio,  pt.  8,  c.  19. 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNAN  GONZALEZ.  51 

workmanship  for  his  first  wife,  the  object  of  his  early  love, 
and  had  her  remains  conveyed  to  it  and  interred  with  great 
solemnity.  His  own  sepulchre,  according  to  ancient  promise, 
was  prepared  at  the  chapel  and  hermitage  of  San  Pedro  at 
Arlanza,  where  he  had  first  communed  with  the  holy  Friar 
Pelayo.  When  it  was  completed,  he  merely  inscribed  upon -it 
the  word  "Obijt,"  leaving  the  rest  to  be  supplied  by  others 
after  his  death. 

When  the  Moors  perceived  that  Count  Fernan  Gonzalez, 
once  so  redoubtable  in  arms,  was  old  and  infirm,  and  given  to 
build  tombs  instead  of  castles,  they  thought  it  a  favorable  time 
to  make  an  inroad  into  Castile.  They  passed  the  border,  there- 
fore, in  great  numbers,  laying  everything  waste  and  bearding 
the  old  lion  in  his  very  den. 

The  veteran  had  laid  by  his  sword  and  buckler,  and  had 
almost  given  up  the  world ;  but  the  sound  of  Moorish  drum 
and  trumpet  called  him  back  even  from  the  threshold  of  the 
sepulchre.  Buckling  on  once  more  his  armor  and  bestriding 
his  war-steed,  he  summoned  around  him  his  Castilian  cava- 
liers, seasoned  like  him  in  a  thousand  battles,  and  accompanied 
by  Ms  son  Garcia  Fernandez,  who  inherited  all  the  valor  of  his 
father,  issued  forth  to  meet  the  foe ;  followed  by  the  shouts  and 
blessings  of  the  populace,  who  joyed  to  see  him  once  more  in 
arms  and  glowing  with  his  ancient  fire. 

The  Moors  were  retiring  from  an  extensive  ravage,  laden 
with  booty  and  driving  before  them  an  immense  cava! ga da, 
when  they  descried  a  squadron  of  cavaliers,  armed  all  in  steel, 
emerging  from  a  great  cloud  of  dust,  and  bearing  aloft  the 
silver  cross,  the  well-known  standard  of  Count  Fernan  Gon- 
zalez. That  veteran  warrior  came  on,  as  usual,  leading  the 
way,  sword  in  hand.  The  very  sight  of  his  standard  had 
strack  dismay  into  the  enemy;  they  soon  gave  way  before 
one  of  his  vigorous  charges,  nor  did  he  cease  to  pursue  them 
until  they  took  shelter  within  the  very  walls  of  Cordova. 
Here  he  wasted  the  surrounding  country  with  fire  and  sword, 
and  after  thus  braving  the  Moor  in  his  very  capital,  returned 
triumphant  to  Burgos. 

"Such,"  says  Fray  Antonio  Agapida,  "was  the  last  cam- 
paign.in  the  life  of  this  most  valorous  cavalier;"  and  now, 
abandoning  all  further  deeds  of  mortal  enterprise  in  arms  to 
his  son  Garcia  Fernandez,  he  addressed  all  his  thoughts,  as  he 
said,  to  prepare  for  his  campaign  in  the  skies.  He  still  talked 
as  a  veteran  warrior,  whose  whole  life  had  been  passed  in 


52  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

arms,  but  his  talk  was  not  of  earthly  warfare  nor  of  earthly 
kingdoms.  He  spoke  only  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  and 
what  he  must  do  to  make  a  successful  inroad  and  gain  an  eter- 
nal inheritance  in  that  blessed  country. 

He  was  equally  indefatigable  in  preparing  for  his  spiritual 
as  for  his  mortal  campaign.  Instead,  however,  of  mailed  war- 
riois  tramping  through  his  courts,  and  the  shrill  neigh  of  steed 
or  clang  of  trumpet  echoing  among  their  walls,  there  were 
seen  holy  priests  and  barefoot  monks  passing  to  and  fro,  and 
the  halls  resounded  with  sacred  melody  of  litany  and  psalm. 
So  pleased  was  Heaven  with  the  good  works  of  this  pious 
cavalier,  and  especially  with  rich  donations  to  churches  and 
monasteries  which  he  made  under  the  guidance  of  his  spi- 
ritual counsellors,  that  we  are  told  it  was  given  to  him  to 
foresee  in  vision  the  day  and  hour  when  he  should  pass  from 
this  weary  life  and  enter  the  mansions  of  eternal  rest. 

Knowing  that  the  time  approached,  he  prepared  for  his  end 
like  a  good  Christian.  He  wrote  to  the  kings  of  Leon  and 
Navarre  in  terms  of  great  humility,  craving  their  pardon  for 
all  past  injuries  and  offences,  and  entreating  them,  for  the 
good  of  Christendom,  to  live  in  peace  and  amity,  and  make 
common  cause  for  the  defence  of  the  faith. 

Ten  days  before  the  time  which  Heaven  had  appointed  for 
his  death  he  sent  for  the  abbot  of  the  chapel  and  convent  of 
Arlanza,  and  bending  his  aged  knees  before  Mm,  confessed  all 
his  sins.  This  done,  as  in  former  times  he  had  shown  great 
state  and  ceremony  in  his  worldly  pageants,  so  now  he  ar- 
ranged his  last  cavalgada  to  the  grave.  Ho  prayed  the  abbot 
to  return  to  his  monastery  and  have  his  sepulchre  prepared  for 
his  reception,  and  that  the  abbots  of  St.  Sebastian  and  Silos 
and  Quirce,  with  a  train  of  holy  friars,  might  come  at  the 
appointed  day  for  his  body ;  thai;  thus,  as  he  commended  his 
soul  to  Heaven  through  the  hands  of  his  confessor,  he  might, 
through  the  hands  of  these  pious  men,  resign  his  body  to  the 
earth. 

"When  the  abbot  had  departed,  the  count  desired  to  be  left 
alone;  and  clothing  himself  in  a  coarse  friar's  garb,  he  re- 
mained in  fervent  prayer  for  the  forgiveness  of  his  sins.  As 
he  had  been  a  valiant  captain  all  his  life  against  the  enemies  of 
the  faith,  so  was  he  in  death  against  the  enemies  of  the  soul. 
He  died  in  the  full  command  of  all  his  faculties,  making  no 
groans  nor  contortions,  but  rendering  up  bis  spirit  with  the 
calmness  of  a  heroic  cavalier. 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNAN  GONZALEZ.  53 

We  are  told  that  when  he  died  voices  were  heard  from 
heaven  in  testimony  of  his  sanctity,  while  the  tears  and  lamen- 
tations of  all  Spain  proved  how  much  he  was  valued  and  be- 
loved on  earth.  His  remains  were  conveyed,  according  to  his 
request,  to  the  monastery  of  St.  Pedro  de  Arlanza  by  a  proces- 
sion of  holy  friars  with  solemn  chant  and  dirge.  In  the  church 
of  that  convent  they  still  repose ;  and  two  paintings  are  to  be 
seen  in  the  convent— one  representing  the  count  valiantly 
fighting  with  the  Moors,  the  other  conversing  with  St.  Pelayo 
and  St.  Millan,  as  they  appeared  to  him  in  vision  before  the 
battle  of  Hazinas. 

The  cross  which  he  used  as  his  standard  is  still  treasured  up 
in  the  sacristy  of  the  convent.  It  is  of  massive  silver,  two  ells 
in  length,  with  our  Saviour  sculptured  upon  it,  and  above  the 
head,  in  Gothic  letters,  I.  N.  II.  I.  Below  is  Adam  awaking 
from  the  grave,  with  the  words  of  St.  Paul,  "Awake,  thou 
who  sleepest,  and  arise  from  the  tomb,  for  Christ  shall  give 
thee  life." 

This  holy  cross  still  has  the  form  at  the  lower  end  by  which 
the  standard-bearer  rested  it  in  the  pommel  of  his  saddle. 

"Inestimable,"  adds  Fray  Antonio  Agapida,  "are  the  relics 
and  remains  of  saints  and  sainted  warriors. "  In  after  times, 
when  Fernando  the  Third,  surnamed  the  Saint,  went  to  the 
conquest  of  Seville,  he  took  with  him  a  bone  of  tins  thrice- 
blessed  and  utterly  renowned  cavalier,  together  with  his  sword 
and  pennon,  hoping  through  their  efficacy  to  succeed  in  his 
enterprise, — nor  was  he  disappointed;  but  what  is  marvellous 
to  hear,  but  which  we  have  on  the  authority  of  the  good 
Bishop  Sandoval,  on  the  day  on  which  King  Fernando  the 
Saint  entered  Seville  in  triumph,  great  blows  were  heard  to 
resound  within  the  sepulchre  of  the  count  of  Arlanza,  as  if 
veritably  his  bones  which  remained  behind  exulted  in  the 
victory  gained  by  those  which  had  been  carried  to  the  wars. 
Thus  were  marvellously  fulfilled  the  words  of  the  holy  psalm, 
— "  Exaltabant  ossa  humilitata. "  * 

Here  ends  the  chronicle  of  the  most  valorous  and  renowned 
Don  Fernan  Gonzalez,  Count  of  Castile.     Laus  Deo. 

*  Sandoval,  p.  334. 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNANDO  THE  SAINT. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  PxVRENTAGE  OP  FERNANDO. — QUEEN  BERENGUELA.  — THE 
LARAS. — DON  ALVAR  CONCEALS  THE  DEATH  OF  KING  HENRY. — 
MISSION  OP  QUEEN  BERENGUELA  TO  ALFONSO  IX.— SHE  RE- 
NOUNCES THE  CROWN  OF  CASTILE  IN  FAVOR  OF  HER  SON 
FERNANDO. 

Fernando  III. ,  surnamed  the  Saint,  was  the  son  of  Alfonso 
III. ,  King  of  Leon,  and  of  Berenguela,  a  princess  of  Castile ; 
but  there  were  some  particulars  concerning  his  parentage 
which  it  is  necessary  clearly  to  state  before  entering  upon  his 
personal  history. 

Alfonso  III.  of  Leon,  and  Alfonso  IX.  King  of  Castile,  were 
cousins,  but  there  were  dissensions  between  them.  The  King 
of  Leon,  to  strengthen  hhnself ,  married  his  cousin,  the  Princess 
Theresa,  daughter  of  his  uncle,  the  King  of  Portugal.  By  her 
he  had  two  daughters.  The  marriage  was  annulled  by  Pope 
Celestine  III.  on  account  of  their  consanguinity,  and,  on  their 
making  resistance,  they  were  excommunicated  and  the  king- 
dom laid  under  an  interdict.  This  produced  an  unwilling  sep- 
aration in  1195.  Alfonso  III.  did  not  long  remain  single.  Fresh 
dissensions  having  broken  out  between  him  and  his  cousin 
Alfonso  IX.  of  Castile,  they  were  amicably  adjusted  by  his 
marrying  the  Princess  Berenguela,  daughter  of  that  monarch. 
This  second  marriage,  which  took  place  about  three  years  after 
the  divorce,  came  likewise  under  the  ban  of  the  Church,  and 
for  the  same  reason,  the  near  propinquity  of  the  parties.  Again 
the  commands  of  the  Pope  were  resisted,  and  again  the  refrac- 
tory parties  were  excommunicated  and  the  kingdom  laid  under 
an  interdict. 

The  unfortunate  King  of  Leon  was  the  more  unwilling  to  give 


56  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

up  the  present  marriage,  as  the  Queen  Berenguela  liad  made 
him  the  happy  father  of  several  children,  one  of  whom  he  hoped 
might  one  day  inherit  the  two  crowns  of  Leon  and  Castile. 

The  intercession  and  entreaties  of  the  bishops  of  Castile  so 
far  mollified  the  rigor  of  the  Pope,  that  a  compromise  was 
made ;  the  legitimacy  of  the  children  by  the  present  marriage 
was  not  to  be  affected  by  the  divorce  of  the  parents,  and  Fer- 
nando, the  eldest,  the  subject  of  the  present  chronicle,  was 
recognized  as  successor  to  his  father  to  the  throne  of  Leon. 
The  divorced  Queen  Berenguela  left  Fernando  in  Leon,  and  re- 
turned, in  1204,  to  Castile,  to  the  court  of  her  father,  Alfonso 
III.  Here  she  remained  until  the  death  of  her  father  in  1214, 
who  was  succeeded  by  his  son,  Enrique,  or  Henry  I.  The  latter 
being  only  in  his  eleventh  year,  his  sister,  the  ex-Queen  Beren- 
guela, was  declared  regent.  She  well  merited  the  trust,  for 
she  was  a  woman  of  great  prudence  and  wisdom,  and  of  a  reso- 
lute and  magnanimous  spirit. 

At  this  time  the  house  of  Lara  had  risen  to  great  power. 
There  were  three  brothers  of  that  turbulent  and  haughty  race, 
Don  Alvar  Nunez,  Don  Fernan  Nunez,  and  Don  Gonzalo  Nuiiez. 
The  Laras  had  caused  great  trouble  in  the  kingdom  during  the 
minority  of  Prince  Henry's  father,  by  arrogating  to  themselves 
the  regency ;  and  they  now  attempted,  in  like  manner,  to  get 
the  guardianship  of  the  son,  declaring  it  an  office  too  impor- 
tant and  difficult  to  be  entrusted  to  a  woman.  Having  a  pow- 
erful and  unprincipled  party  among  the  nobles,  and  using  great 
bribery  among  persons  in  whom  Berenguela  confided,  they  car- 
ried their  point ;  and  the  virtuous  Berenguela,  to  prevent  civil 
commotions,  resigned  the  regency  into  the  hands  of  Don  Alvar 
Nunez  de  Lara,  the  head  of  that  ambitious  house.  First,  how- 
ever, she  made  him  kneel  and  swear  that  he  would  conduct 
himself  toward  the  youthful  king,  Enrique,  as  a  thorough  friend 
and  a  loyal  vassal,  guarding  his  person  from  all  harm ;  that  ho 
would  respect  the  property  of  individuals,  and  undertake 
nothing  of  importance  without  the  counsel  and  consent  of 
Queen  Berenguela.  Furthermore,  that  he  woidd  guard  and 
respect  the  hereditary  possessions  of  Queen  Berenguela,  left  to 
her  by  her  father,  and  would  always  serve  heras  his  sovereign, 
the  daughter  of  his  deceased  king.  All  this  Don  Alvar  Nunez 
solemnly  swore  upon  the  sacred  evangelists  and  the  holy 
cross. 

No  sooner,  however,  had  he  got  the  young  king  in  his  power, 
thin  ho  showed  the  ambition,  rapacity,  and  arrogance  of  his 


CUllONICLE  OF  FERNANDO   the  SAINT.  57 

nature.  He  prevailed  upon  the  young  king  to  make  kirn  a 
count;  he  induced  him  to  hold  cortes  without  the  presence  of 
Queen  Berenguela;  issuing  edicts  in  the  king's  name,  he  ban- 
ished  refractory  nobles,  giving  their  offices  and  lands  to  his 
brothers;  he  levied  exactions  on  rich  and  poor,  and,  what  is 
still  more  flagrant,  he  extended  these  exactions  to  the  Church. 
In  vain  did  Queen  Berenguela  remonstrate ;  in  vain  did  the 
Dean  of  Toledo  thunder  forth  an  excommunication;  he  scoffed 
at  them  both,  for  in  the  king's  name  he  persuaded  himself  he 
had  a  tower  of  strength.  He  even  sent  a  letter  to  Queen  Be- 
renguela in  the  name  of  the  young  king,  demanding  of  her  the 
castles,  towns,  and  ports  which  had  been  left  to  her  by  her 
father.  The  queen  was  deeply  grieved  at  this  letter,  and  sent 
a  reply  to  the  king  that,  when  she  saw  him  face  to  face,  she 
would  do  with  those  possessions  whatever  he  should  command, 
as  her  brother  and  sovereign. 

On  receiving  this  message,  the  young  king  was  shocked  and 
distressed  that  such  a  demand  should  have  been  made  in  his 
name;  but  he  was  young  and  inexperienced,  and  could  not 
openly  contend  with  a  man  of  Don  Alvar's  overbearing  char- 
acter. He  wrote  secretly  to  the  queen,  however,  assuring  her 
that  the  demand  had  been  made  without  his  knowledge,  and 
saying  how  gladly  he  would  come  to  her  if  he  could,  and  be 
relieved  from  the  thraldom  of  Don  Alvar. 

In  this  way  the  unfortunate  prince  was  made  an  instrument 
in  the  hands  of  this  haughty  and  arrogant  nobleman  of  inflict- 
ing all  kinds  of  wrongs  and  injuries  upon  his  subjects.  Don 
Alvar  constantly  kept  Mm  with  Mm,  carrying  him  from  place 
to  place  of  Ms  dominions,  wherever  his  presence  was  necessary 
to  effect  some  new  measure  of  tyranny.  He  even  endeavored 
to  negotiate  a  marriage  between  the  young  king  and  some 
neighboring  princess,  in  order  to  retain  an  mfluence  over  Mm, 
but  m  tMs  he  was  unsuccessful. 

For  three  years  had  he  maintained  this  iniquitious  sway,  un- 
til one  day  m  1217.  when  the  young  king  was  with  him  at 
Palencia,  and  was  playing  with  some  youthful  companions  in 
the  court-yard  of  the  episcopal  palace,  a  tile,  either  falling 
from  the  roof  of  a  tower,  or  sportively  thrown  by  one  of  his 
companions,  struck  him  in  the  head,  and  inflicted  a  wound  of 
which  he  presently  died. 

This  was  a  fatal  blow  to  the  power  of  Don  Alvar.  To  secure 
himself  from  any  sudden  revulsion  in  the  popular  mind,  he 
determined  to  conceal  the  death  of  the  king  as  long  as  pos- 


58  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

sible,  and  gave  out  that  he  had  retired  to  the  fortress  of 
Tariego,  whither  he  had  the  body  conveyed,  as  if  still  living- 
He  continued  to  issue  dispatches  from  time  to  time  in  the 
name  of  the  king,  and  made  various  excuses  for  his  non- 
appearance in  public. 

^ueen  Berenguela  soon  learned  the  truth.  According  to  the 
laws  of  Castile  she  was  heiress  to  the  crown,  but  she  resolved 
to  transfer  it  to  her  son  Fernando,  who,  being  likewise  ac- 
knowledged successor  to  the  crown  of  Leon,  would  unite  the 
two  kingdoms  under  his  rule.  To  effect  her  purpose  she 
availed  herself  of  the  cunning  of  her  enemy,  kept  secret  her 
knowledge  of  the  death  of  her  brother,  and  sent  three  of  her 
confidential  cavaliers,  Don  Lope  Diaz  de  Haro,  Senor  of  Bis- 
cay, and  Don  Gonzalo  Ruiz  Giron,  and  Don  aIoiizo  Tellez  do 
Meneses,  to  her  late  husband,  Alfonso  IX.,  King  of  Leon,  who, 
with  her  son  Fernando,  was  then  at  Toro,  entreating  him  to 
send  the  latter  to  her  to  protect  her  from  the  tyranny  of  Don 
Alvar.  The  prudent  mother,  however,  forebore  to  let  King 
Alfonso  know  of  her  brother's  death,  lest  it  might  awaken  in 
him  ambitious  thoughts  about  the  Castilian  crown. 

This  mission  being  sent,  she  departed  with  the  cavaliers  of 
her  party  for  Palencia.  The  death  of  the  King  Enrique  being 
noised  about,  she  was  honored  as  Queen  of  Castile,  and  Don 
Tello,  the  bishop,  came  forth  in  procession  to  receive  her.  The 
next  day  she  proceeded  to  the  castle  of  Duenas,  and,  on  its 
making  some  show  of  resistance,  took  it  by  force. 

The  cavaliers  who  were  with  the  queen  endeavored  to  effect 
a  reconciliation  between  her  and  Don  Alvar,  seeing  that  the 
latter  had  powerful  connections,  and  through  his  partisans 
and  retainers  held  possession  of  the  principal  towns  and  for- 
tresses; that  haughty  nobleman,  however,  would  listen  to  no 
proposals,  unless  the  Prince  Fernando  was  given  into  his 
guardianship,  as  had  been  the  Prince  Enrique. 

Tn  the  mean  time  the  request  of  Queen  Berenguela  had  been 
granted  by  her  late  husband,  the  King  of  Leon,  and  her  son 
Fernando* hastened  to  meet  her.  The  meeting  took  place  at 
the  castle  of  Otiella.  and  happy  was  the  anxious  mother  once 
more  to  embrace  her  son.  At  her  command  the  cavaliers  in 
her  train  elevated  him  on  the  trunk  of  an  elm-tree  for  a  throne, 
and  hailed  him  kins:  with  frreat  acclamations. 

They  now  proceeded  to  Valladolid,  which  at  that  time  was  a 
great  and  wealthy  town.  Here  the  nobility  and  chivalry  of 
Estremadura  and  other  parts  hastened  to  pay  homage  to  the 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNANDO   THE  SAINT.  59 

queen.  A  stage  was  erected  in  <he  market-place,  where  the 
assembled  states  acknowledged  her  for  queen  and  swore  fealty 
to  her.  She  immediately,  in  presence  of  her  nobles,  prelates, 
and  people,  renounced  the  croAvn  in  favor  of  her  son.  The  air 
rang  with  the  shouts  of  ' '  Long  live  Fernando,  King  of  Cas- 
tile !"  The  bishops  and  clergy  then  conducted  the  king  in  state 
to  the  church.  This  was  on  the  31st  of  August,  1217,  and 
about  three  months  from  the  death  of  King  Enrique. 

Fernando  was  at  this  time  about  eighteen  years  of  age,  an 
accomplished  cavalier,  having  been  instructed  in  everything 
befitting  a  prince  and  a  warrior. 


CHAPTER  II. 


KING    ALFONSO    OF  LEON    RAVAGES  CASTILE.  —  CAPTIVITY   OF  DON 
ALVAR.— DEATH  OF  THE  LARAS. 

King  Alfonso  of  Leon  was  exceedingly  exasperated  at  the 
furtive  manner  in  which  his  son  Fernando  had  left  him,  with- 
out informing  him  of  King  Henry's  death.  He  considered, 
and  perhaps  with  reason,  the  transfer  of  the  crown  of  Castile 
by  Berenguela  to  her  son,  as  a  manoeuvre  to  evade  any  rights 
or  claims  which  he,  King  Alfonso,  might  have  over  her,  not- 
withstanding her  divorce;  and  he  believed  that  both  mother 
and  son  had  conspired  to  deceive  and  outwit  him ;  and,  what 
was  especially  provoking,  they  had  succeeded.  It  was  natural 
for  King  Alfonso  to  have  become  by  this  time  exceedingly 
irritable  and  sensitive ;  he  had  been  repeatedly  thwarted  in  his 
dearest  concerns;  excommunicated  out  of  two  wives  by  the 
Pope,  and  now,  as  he  conceived,  cajoled  out  of  a  kingdom. 

In  his  wrath  he  flew  to  arms -a  prompt  and  customary  re- 
course of  kings  in  those  days  when  they  had  no  will  to  consult 
but  their  own ;  and  notwithstanding  the  earnest  expostulations 
and  entreaties  of  holy  men,  he  entered  Castile  with  an  army, 
ravaging  the  legitimate  inheritance  of  his  son,  as  if  it  had 
been  the  territory  of  an  enemy.  He  was  seconded  in  his  out- 
rages by  Count  Alvar  Nuiiez  de  Lara  and  his  two  bellicose 
brothers,  who  hoped  still  to  retain  power  by  rallying  under  his 
standard. 

There  were  at  this  time  full  two  thousand  cavaliers  with  the 
youthful  king,  resolute  men,  well  armed  and  well  appointed, 


60  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

and  they  urged  hira  to  lead  them  against  the  King  of  Leon. 
Queen  Berenguela,  however,  interposed  and  declared  her  son 
should  never  be  guilty  of  the  impiety  of  taking  up  arms 
against  his  father.  By  her  advice  King  Fernando  sent  an 
embassy  to  his  father,  expostulating  with  him,  and  telling 
him  that  he  ought  to  be  thankful  to  God  that  Castile  was  in 
the  hands  of  a  son  disposed  at  all  times  to  honor  and  defend 
him,  instead  of  a  stranger  who  might  prove  a  dangerous  foe. 

King  Alfonso,  however,  was  not  so  to  be  appeased.  By  the 
ambassadors  he  sent  proposals  to  Queen  Berenguela  that  they 
re-enter  into  wedlock,  for  which  he  woidd  procure  a  dispensa- 
tion from  the  Pope ;  they  would  then  be  jointly  sovereigns  of 
both  Castile  and  Leon,  and  the  Prince  Fernando,  their  son, 
should  inherit  both  crowns.  But  the  virtuous  Berenguela 
recoiled  from  this  proposal  of  a  second  nuptials.  "God  for- 
bid," replied  she,  "that  I  should  return  to  a  sinful  marriage; 
and  as  to  the  crown  of  Castile,  it  now  belongs  to  my  son,  to 
whom  I  have  given  it  with  the  sanction  of  God  and  the  good 
men  of  this  realm. " 

King  Alfonso  was  more  enraged  than  ever  by  this  reply, 
and  being  incited  and  aided  by  Count  Alvar  and  his  faction, 
he  resumed  his  ravages,  laying  waste  the  country  and  burn- 
ing the  villages.  He  would  have  attacked  Duenas,  but  found 
that  place  strongly  garrisoned  by  Diego  Lopez  de  Haro  and 
Ruy  Diaz  de  los  Cameros ;  he  next  marched  upon  Burgos,  but 
that  place  was  equally  well  garrisoned  by  Lope  Diez  de  Faro 
and  other  stout  Castiiian  cavaliers ;  so  perceiving  his  son  to  be 
more  firmly  seated  upon  the  throne  than  he  had  imagined,  and 
that  all  his  own  menaces  and  ravages  were  unavailing,  he  re- 
turned deeply  chagrined  to  his  kingdom. 

King  Fernando,  in  obedience  to  the  dictates  of  his  mother  as 
well  as  of  his  own  heart,  abstained  from  any  acts  of  retalia- 
tion on  his  father ;  but  he,  turned  his  arms  against  Munon  and 
Lerma  and  Lara,  and  other  places  which  either  belonged  to,  or 
held  out  for,  Count  Alvar,  and  having  subdued  them,  pro- 
ceeded to  Burgos,  the  capital  of  his  kingdom,  where  he  was 
received  by  the  bishop  and  clergy  with  great  solemnity,  and 
whither  the  nobles  and  chivalry  from  all  parts  of  Castile  has- 
tened to  rally  round  his  throne.  The  turbulent  Count  Alvar 
Nunez  de  Lara  and  his  brothers  retaining  other  fortresses  too 
strong  to  be  easily  taken,  refused  all  allegiance,  and  made  rav- 
aging excursions  over  the  country.  The  prudent  and  provi- 
dent Berenguela,  therefore,  while  at  Burgos,  seeing  that  the 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNANDO   THE  SAINT.  61 

troubles  and  contentions  of  the  kingdom  -would  cause  great 
expense  and  prevent  much  revenue,  gathered  together  all  her 
jewels  of  gold  and  silver  and  precious  stones,  and  all  her  plate 
and  rich  silks, and  other  precious  things,  and  caused  them  to 
be  sold,  and  gave  the  money  to  her  son  to  defray  the  cost  of 
these  civil  ware. 

King  Fernando  and  his  mother  departed  shortly  afterward 
for  Palencia;  on  their  way  they  had  to  pass  by  Herrera,  which 
at  that  time  was  the  stronghold  of  Count  Ah-ar.  When  the 
king  came  in  sight,  Count  Fernan  Nunez,  with  his  battalions, 
was  on  the  banks  of  the  river,  but  drewT  within  the  walls.  As 
the  king  had  to  pass  close  by  with  his  retinue,  he  ordered  his 
troops  to  be  put  in  good  order,  and  gave  it  in  charge  to  Alonzo 
Tellez  and  Suer  Tellez  and  Alvar  Ruyz  to  protect  the  flanks. 

As  the  royal  troops  drew  near,  Count  Alvar,  leaving  his 
people  in  the  town,  sallied  forth  with  a  few  cavaliers  to  regard 
the  army  as  it  passed.  Affecting  great  contempt  for  the 
youthful  king  and  Iris  cavaliers,  he  stood  drawn  up  on  a 
rising  ground  with  his  attendants,  looking  down  upon  the 
troops  with  scornful  aspect,  and  rejecting  all  advice  to  retire 
into  the  town. 

As  the  king  and  his  immediate  escort  came  nigh,  their  at- 
tention was  attracted  to  this  little  body  of  proud  warriors 
drawn  up  upon  a  bank  and  regarding  them  so  loftily;  and 
Alonzo  Tellez  and  Suer  Tellez,  looking  more  closely,  recognized 
Don  Alvar,  and  putting  spurs  to  their  horses,  dashed  up  the 
bank,  followed  by  several  cavaliers.  Don  Avar  repented  of 
his  vain  confidence  too  late,  and  seeing  great  numbers  urging 
toward  him,  turned  his  reins  aad  retreated  toward  the  town. 
Still  his  stomach  was  too  high  for  absolute  flight,  and  the 
others,  who  spurred  after  him  at  full  speed,  overtook  him. 
Throwing  himself  from  his  horse,  he  covered  himself  with  his 
shield  and  prepared  for  defence.  Alonzo  Tellez,  however, 
called  to  his  men  not  to  kill  the  count,  but  to  take  him  pri- 
soner. He  was  accordingly  captured,  with  several  of  his  fol- 
lowers, and  borne  off  to  the  king  and  queen.  The  count  had 
everything  to  apprehend  from  their  vengeance  for  his  mis- 
deeds. They  used  no  personal  harshness,  however,  but  de- 
manded from  him  that  he  should  surrender  all  the  castles  and 

• 

strong  places  held  by  the  retainers  and  partisans  of  his  brothers 
and  himself,  that  he  should  furnish  one  hundred  horsemen  to 
aid  in  their  recovery,  and  should  remain  a  prisoner  until  those 
places  were  all  in  the  possession  of  the  crown. 


62  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

Captivity  broke  the  haughty  spirit  of  Don  Alvar.  He  agreed 
to  those  conditions,  and  until  they  should  be  fulfilled  was  con- 
signed to  the  charge  of  Gonsalvo  Ruiz  Giron,  and  confined  in 
the  castle  of  Valladolid.  The  places  were  delivered  up  in  the 
course  of  a  few  months,  and  thus  King  Fernando  became 
strongly  possessed  of  his  kingdom. 

Stripped  of  power,  state,  and  possessions,  Count  Alvar  and 
his  brothers,  after  an  ineffectual  attempt  to  rouse  the  King  of 
Leon  to  another  campaign  against  his  son,  became  savage 
and  desperate,  and  made  predatory  excursions,  pillaging  the 
country,  until  Count  Alvar  fell  mortally  ill  of  hydropsy. 
Struck  with  remorse  and  melancholy,  he  repaired  to  Toro  and 
entered  the  chivalrous  order  of  Santiago,  that  he  might  gain 
the  indulgences  granted  by  the  Pope  to  those  who  die  in  that 
order,  and  hoping,  says  an  ancient  chronicler,  to  oblige  God 
as  it  were,  by  that  religious  ceremony,  to  pardon  his  sins.* 
His  illness  endured  seven  months,  and  he  was  reduced  to  such 
poverty  that  at  his  death  there  was  not  money  enough  left  by 
him  to  convey  his  body  to  Ucles,  where  he  had  requested  to  be 
buried,  nor  to  pay  for  tapers  for  his  funeral.  When  Queen 
Berenguela  heard  this,  she  ordered  that  the  funeral  should  be 
honorably  performed  at  her  own  expense,  and  sent  a  cloth  of 
gold  to  cover  the  bier.f 

The  brother  of  Count  Alvar,  Don  Fernando,  abandoned  his 
country  in  despair  and  went  to  Marocco,  where  he  was  well 
received  by  the  miramamolin,  and  had  lands  and  revenues 
assigned  to  him.  He  became  a  great  favorite  among  the 
Moors,  to  whom  he  used  to  recount  his  deeds  in  the  civil  wars 
of  Castile.  At  length  he  fell  dangerously  ill,  and  caused  him- 
self to  be  taken  to  a  subm-b  inhabited  by  Christians.  There 
happened  to  bo  there  at  that  time  one  Don  Gonsalvo,  a  knight 
of  the  order  of  the  Hospital  of  St.  Jean  d'Acre,  and  who  had 
been  in  the  service  of  Pope  Innocent  III.  Don  Fernando, 
finding  his  end  approaching,  entreated  of  the  knight  his  re- 
ligious habit  that  he  might  die  in  it.  His  request  was  granted, 
and  thus  Coimt  Fernando  died  in  the  habit  of  a  Knight  Hos- 
pitaller of  St.  Jean  d'Acre,  in  Elbora,  a  suburb  of  Marocco. 
His  body  was  afterward  brought  to  Spain,  and  interred  in  a 
town  on  the  banks  of  the  Pisuerga,  in  which  repose  likewise 
the  remains  of  his  wife  and  children. 


*  Cronica  Gotica,  por  Don  Alonzo  Nunez  de  Castro,  p.  17. 
\  Cronica  General  de  EspaBa,  pt.  3,  p.  370. 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNANDO   THE  SAINT.  63 

The  Count  Gonsalvo  Nunez  de  Lara,  the  third  of  these 
brothers,  also  took  refuge  among  the  Moors.  He  was  seized 
with  violent  disease  in  the  city  of  Baeza,  where  he  died.  His 
body  was  conveyed  to  Campos  a  Zalmos,  which  appertained 
to  the  Friars  of  the  Temple,  where  the  holy  fraternity  gave 
it  the  rites  of  sepulture  with  all  due  honor.  Such  was  the 
end  of  these  three  brothers  of  the  once  proud  and  powerful 
house  of  Lara,  whose  disloyal  deeds  had  harassed  their  coun- 
try and  brought  ruin  upon  themselves. 


CHAPTER  III. 

MARRIAGE  OF  KING  FERNANDO.— CAMPAIGN  AGAINST  THE  MOORS. 
— ABEN  MOHAMED,  KING  OF  BAEZA,  DECLARES  HIMSELF  THE 
VASSAL  OF  KING  FERNANDO. — THEY  MARCH  TO  JAEN. — BURN- 
ING OF  THE  TOWER. — FERNANDO  COMMENCES  THE  BUILDING 
OF  THE   CATHEDRAL  AT  TOLEDO. 

King  Fernando,  aided  by  the  sage  counsels  of  his  mother, 
reigned  for  some  time  in  peace  and  quietness,  administering 
his  affairs  with  equity  and  justice.  The  good  Queen  Beren- 
guela  now  began  to  cast  about  her  eyes  in  search  of  a  suit- 
able alliance  for  her  son,  and  had  many  consultations  with 
the  Bishop  Maurice  of  Burgos,  and  other  ghostly  counsellors, 
thereupon.  They  at  length  agreed  upon  the  Princess  Beatrix, 
daughter  of  the  late  Philip,  Emperor  of  Germany,  and  the 
Bishop  Maurice  and  Padre  Fray  Pedro  de  Arlanza  were  sent 
as  envoys  to  the  Emperor  Frederick  II.,  cousin  of  the  prin- 
cess, to  negotiate  the  terms.  An  arrangement  was  happily 
effected,  and  the  princess  set  out  for  Spain.  In  passing 
through  France  she  was  courteously  entertained  at  Paris  by 
King  Philip,  who  made  her  rich  presents.  On  the  borders  of 
Castile  she  was  met  at  Vittoria  by  the  Queen  Berenguela, 
with  a  great  train  of  prelates,  monks,  and  masters  of  the  re- 
ligious orders,  and  of  abbesses  and  nuns,  together  with  a 
glorious  train  of  chivalry.  In  this  state  she  was  conducted 
to  Burgos,  where  the  king  and  all  his  court  came  forth  to 
receive  her,  and  their  nuptials  were  celebrated  with  great 
pomp  and  rejoicing. 

King  Fernando  lived  happily  with  his  fair  Queen  Beatrix, 


64         •  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

and  his  kingdom  remained  in  peace;  but  by  degrees  he  be- 
came impatient  of  quiet,  and  anxious  to  make  war  upon  the 
Moors.  Perhaps  he  felt  called  upon  to  make  some  signal  essay 
in  arms  at  present,  having,  the  day  before  his  nuptials,  been 
armed  a  knight  in  the  monastery  of  Las  Huelgos,  and  in 
those  "iron  days  knighthood  was  not  a  matter  of  mere  parade 
and  ceremony,  but  called  for  acts  of  valor  and  proofs  of  stern 
endurance. 

The  discreet  Berenguela  endeavored  to  dissuade  her  son 
from  taking  the  field,  considering  him  not  of  sufficient  age. 
In  all  things  else  he  was  ever  obedient  to  her  counsels,  and 
even  to  her  inclinations,  but  it  was  in  vain  that  she  endeav- 
ored to  persuade  him  from  making  Mar  upon  the  infidels. 
"God,"  he  would  say,  "had  put  into  his  hand  not  merely  a 
sceptre  to  govern,  but  a  sword  to  avenge  his  country." 

It  was  fortunate  for  the  good  cause,  moreover,  and  the 
Spanish  chroniclers,  that  while  the  queen-mother  was  endeav- 
oring to  throw  a  damper  on  the  kindling  fire  of  her  son,  a 
worthy  prelate  was  at  hand  to  stir  it  up  into  a  blaze.  This 
was  the  illustrious  historian  Rodrigo,  Archbishop  of  Toledo, 
who  now  preached  a  crusade  against  the  Moors,  promising 
like  indulgences  with  those  granted  to  the  warriors  for  the 
Holy  Sepulchre.  The  consequence  was  a  great  assemblage  of 
troops  from  all  parts  at  Toledo. 

King  Fernando  was  prevented  for  a  time  from  taking  the 
field  in  person,  but  sent  in  advance  Don  Lope  Diaz  de  Haro 
and  Ruy  Gonsalvo  de  Giron  and  Alonzo  Tellez  de  Meneses, 
with  five  hundred  cavaliers  well  armed  and  mounted.  The 
very  sight  of  them  effected  a  conquest  over  AbenMohamcd, 
the  Moorish  king  of  Baeza,  insomuch  that  he  sent  an  em- 
bassy to  King  Fernando,  declaring  himself  his  vassal. 

When  King  Fernando  afterwards  took  the  field,  he  was 
joined  by  this  Moorish  ally  at  the  Nayas  or  plains  of  Tolosa; 
who  was  in  company  with  him  when  the  king  marched  to 
Jacn,  to  the  foot  of  a  tower,  and  set  fire  to  it,  whereupon  those 
Moors  who  remained  in  the  tower  were  burned  to  death,  and 
those  who  leaped  from  the  walls  were  received  on  the  points 
of  lances.  _ 

Notwithstanding  the  burnt-offering  of  this  tower,  Heaven 
did  not  smile  upon  the  attempt  of  King  Fernando  to  reduce 
the  city  of  Jaen.  He  was  obliged  to  abandon  the  siege,  but 
consoled  himself  by  laying  waste  the  country.  He  was  more 
successful  elsewhere.     He  carried  the  strong  town  of  Priego 


CnRONIGLE  OF  FERNA  NDO   THE  SAINT.  05 

by  assault,  and  gave  the  garrison  their  lives  on  condition  of 
yielding  up  all  their  property,  and  paying,  moreover,  eighty 
thousand  niaravedis  of  silver.  For  the  payment  of  this  sum 
they  were  obliged  to  give  as  hostages  fifty-five  damsels  of 
great  beauty,  and  fifty  cavaliers  of  rank,  besides  nine  hundred 
of  the  common  people.  The  king  divided  his  hostages  among 
his  bravest  cavaliers  and  the  religious  orders ;  but  his  vassal,  \s 
the  Moorish  king  of  Baega,  obtained  the  charge  of  the  Moor- 
ish damsels. 

The  king  then  attacked  Loxa,  and  his  men  sealed  the  walls 
and  burnt  the  gates,  and  made  themselves  masters  of  the 
place.  He  then  led  his  army  into  the  Vega  of  Granada,  the 
inhabitants  of  which  submitted  to  become  his  vassals,  and 
gave  up  all  the  Christian  captives  in  that  city,  amounting  to 
thirteen  hundred. 

Aben  Mohamed,  king  of  Baeza,  then  delivered  to  King  Fer- 
nando the  towers  of  Martos  and  Andujar,  and  the  king  gave 
them  to  Don  Alvar  Perez  de  Castro,  and  placed  with  him 
Don  Gonzalo  Ybaiiez,  Master  of  Calatrava,  and  Tello  Alonzo 
Meneses,  son  of  Don  Alonzo  Tellez,  and  other  stout  cavaliers, 
fitted  to  maintain  frontier  posts.  These  arrangements  being 
made,  and  having  ransacked  every  mountain  and  valley,  and 
taken  many  other  places  not  herein  specified,  King  Fernando 
returned  in  triumph  to  Toledo,  where  he  was  joyfully  received 
by  his  mother  Berenguela  and  his  wife  Beatrix. 

Clerical  historians  do  not  fail  to  record  with  infinite  satisfac- 
tion a  single  instance  of  the  devout  and  zealous  spirit  which 
King  Fernando  had  derived  from  his  constant  communion 
with  the  reverend  fathers  of  the  Church.  As  the  king  was 
one  day  walking  with  his  ghostly  adviser  the  archbishop,  in 
the  principal  church  of  Toledo,  which  was  budt  in  the  Moresco 
fashion,  having  been  a  mosque  of  the  infidels,  it  occurred,  or 
more  probably  was  suggested  to  him,  that,  since  God  had 
aided  him  to  increase  his  kingdom,  and  had  given  him  such 
victories  over  the  enemies  of  his  holy  faith,  it  became  him  to 
rebuild  his  holy  temple,  which  was  ancient  and  falling  to 
decay,  and  to  adorn  it  richly  with  the  spoils  taken  from  the 
Moors.  The  thought  was  promptly  carried  into  effect.  The 
king  and  the  archbishop  laid  the  first  stone  with  great  solem- 
nity, and  in  the  fulness  of  time  accomplished  that  mighty 
cathedral  of  Toledo,  which  remains  the  wonder  and  admira- 
tion of  after  ages. 


66  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

ASSASSINATION  OF  ABEN  MOHAMED.— HIS  HEAD  CARRIED  AS  A 
PRESENT  TO  ABULLALE,  THE  MOORISH  KING  OF  SEVILLE.— 
ADVANCE  OF  THE  CHRISTIANS  INTO  ANDALUSIA.  —  ABULLALE 
PURCHASES  A  TRUCE. 

The  worthy  Fray  Antonio  Agapida  records  various  other 
victories  and  achievements  of  King  Fernando  in  a  subsequent 
campaign  against  the  Moors  of  Andalusia;  in  the  course  of 
which  his  camp  was  abundantly  supplied  with  grain  by  his 
vassal  Aben  Mohamed,  the  Moorish  king  of  Baeza.  The  assist- 
ance rendered  by  that  Moslem  monarch  to  the  Christian  forces 
in  their  battles  against  those  of  his  own  race  and  his  own  faith, 
did  not  meet  with  the  reward  it  merited.  "  Doubtless, "  says 
Antonio  Agapida,  ''because  he  halted  half  way  in  the  right 
path,  and  did  not  turn  thorough  renegade"  It  appears  that 
his  friendship  for  the  Christians  gave  great  disgust  to  his  sub- 
jects, and  some  of  them  rose  upon  him,  while  he  was  sojourn- 
ing in  the  city  of  Cordova,  and  sought  to  destroy  him.  Aben 
Mohamed  fled  by  a  gate  leading  to  the  gardens,  to  take  shelter 
in  the  tower  of  Almodovar;  but  the  assassins  overtook  him, 
and  slew  him  on  a  hill  near  the  tower.  They  then  cut  off  his 
head  and  carried  it  as  a  present  to  Abullale,  the  Moorish  king 
of  Seville,  expecting  to  be  munificently  rewarded;  but  that 
monarch  gave  command  that  their  heads  should  be  struck  off 
and  their  bodies  thrown  to  the  dogs,  as  traitors  to  their  liege 
lords.* 

King  Fernando  was  grieved  when  he  heard  of  the  assassina- 
tion of  his  vassal,  and  feared  the  death  of  Aben  Mohamed 
might  lead  to  a  rising  of  the  Moors.  He  sent  notice  to  Andu- 
jar,  to  Don  Alvar  Perez  de  Castro  and  Alonzo  Tellez  de  Mene- 
ses,  to  be  on  their  guard ;  but  the  Moors,  fearing  punishment 
for  some  rebellious  movements,  abandoned  the  town,  and  it  fell 
into  the  hands  of  the  king.  The  Moors  of-Martos  did  the  like. 
The  Alcazar  of  Baeza  yielded  also  to  the  king,  who  placed  in  it 
Don  Lope  Diaz  de  Havo,  with  five  hundred  men. 

Abullale,  the  Moorish  sovereign  of  Seville,  was  alarmed  at 


*  Crou.  Gen.  de  Espafla,  pt.  4,  fol.  373. 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNANDO   TUB  SAINT.  07 

seeing  the  advances  which  the  Christians  were  making  in  An- 
dalusia ;  and  attempted  to  wrest  from  their  hands  these  newly 
acquired  places.  He  marched  upon  Martos,  which  was  not 
strongly  walled.  The  Countess  Dona  Yrenia,  wife  to  Don 
Alvar  Perez  de  Castro,  was  in  this  place,  and  her  husbaud 
was  absent.  ,  Don  Tello  Alonzo,  with  a  Spanish  force,  hastened 
to  her  assistance.  Finding  the  town  closely  invested,  he 
formed  his  men  into  a  troop,  and  endeavored  to  cut  his  way 
through  the  enemy.  A  rude  conflict  ensued;  the  cavaliers 
fought  their  way  forward,  and  Christian  and  Moor  arrived 
pell-mell  at  the  gate  of  the  town.  Here  the  press  was  exces- 
sive. Fernan  Gomez  de  Pudiello,  a  stout  cavalier,  who  bore 
the  pennon  of  Don  Tello  Alonzo,  was  slain,  and  the  same  fate 
would  have  befallen  Don  Tello  himself,  but  that  a  company  of 
esquires  sallied  from  the  town  to  his  rescue. 

King  Abullale  now  encircled  the  town,  and  got  possession  of 
the  Pena,  or  rock,  which  commands  it,  killing  two  hundred 
Christians  who  defended  it. 

Provisions  began  to  fail  the  besieged,  and  they  were  reduced 
to  slay  their  horses  for  food,  and  even  to  eat  the  hides.  Don 
Gonsalvo  Ybanez,  master  of  Calatrava,  who  was  in  Baeza, 
hearing  of  the  extremity  of  the  place,  came  suddenly  with 
seventy  men  and  effected  an  entrance.  The  augmentation 
of  the  garrison  only  served  to  increase  the  famine,  without 
being  sufficient  in  force  to  raise  the  siege.  At  length  word 
was  brought  to  Don  Alvar  Perez  de  Castro,  who  was  with  the 
king  at  Guadalaxara,  of  the  imminent  danger  to  which  his 
wife  was  exposed.  He  instantly  set  off  for  her  relief,  accom- 
panied by  several  cavaliers  of  note,  and  a  strong  force.  They 
succeeded  in  getting  into  Martos,  recovered  the  Pena,  or  rock, 
and  made  such  vigorous  defence  that  Abullale  abandoned  the 
siege  in  despair.  In  the  following  year  King  Fernando  led  his 
host  to  take  revenge  upon  this  Moorish  king  of  Seville ;  but  the 
latter  purchased  a  truce  for  one  year  with  three  hundred  thou- 
sand maravedis  of  silver.* 

*  Cron.  Gen.  de  Espana,  pt.  4,  c.  ii. 


68  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 


CHAPTER  V. 

ABEN  IIUD. — ABULLALE  PURCHASES  ANOTHER  YEAR'S  TRUCE.— 
FERNANDO  HEARS  OF  THE  DEATH  OF  HIS  FATHER,  THE  KING 
OF  LEON,  WHILE  PRESSING  THE  SIEGE  OF  JAEN.— HE  BECOMES 
SOVEREIGN  OF  THE  TWO  KINGDOMS  OF  LEON  AND  CASTILE. 

About  this  time  a  valiant  sheik,  named  Aben  Abdallai* 
Mohammed  ben  Hud,  but  commonly  called  Aben  Hud,  was 
effecting  a  great  revolution  in  Moorish  affairs.  He  was  of  the 
lineage  of  Aben  Alfange,  and  bitterly  opposed  to  the  sect  of" 
Almohades,  who  for  a  long  time  had  exercised  a  tyrannical 
sway.  Stirring  up  the  Moors  of  Murcia  to  rise  upon  their  op- 
pressors, he  put  himself  at  their  head,  massacred  all  the  Almo- 
hades that  fell  into  his  hands,  and  made  himself  sheik  or 
king  of  that  region.  He  purified  the  mosques  with  water, 
after  the  manner  in  which  Christians  purify  their  churches,  as 
though  they  had  been  denied  by  the  Almohades.  Aben  Hud 
acquired  a  name  among  those  of  his  religion  for  justice  and 
good  faith  as  well  as  valor ;  and  after  some  opposition,  gained 
sway  over  all  Andalusia.  This  brought  him  in  collision  with 
King  Fernando    .     .     . 

I3IP  (Something  is  wanting  here.)  * 

laying  waste  fields  of  grain.  The  Moorish  sovereign  of  Seville 
purchased  another  year's  truce  of  him  for  three  hundred  thou- 
sand maravedis  of  silver.  Aben  Hud,  on  the  other  hand,  col- 
lected a  great  force  and  marched  to  oppose  him,  but  did  not 
dare  to  give  him  battle.  He  went,  therefore,  upon  Merida, 
and  fought  with  King  Alfonso  of  Leon,  father  of  King  Fernan- 
do, where,  however,  he  met  with  complete  discomfiture. 
In  the  following  year  King  Fernando  repeated  his  invasion 


*  The  hiatus,  here  noted  by  the  author,  has  evidently  arisen  from  the  loss  of  a 
leaf  of  his  manuscript.  The  printed  line  which  precedes  the  parenthesis  concludes 
page  32  of  the  manuscript;  the  line  which  follows  it  begins  page  34.  The  interme- 
diate page  is  wanting.  I  presume  the  author  did  not  become  conscious  of  his  loss 
until  he  had  resorted  to  his  manuscript  for  revision,  and  that  he  could  not  depend 
upon  his  memory  to  supply  what  was  wanting  without  a  fresh  resort  to  authorities 
not  at  hand.  Hence  a  postponement  and  ultimate  omission.  The  mining  leaf  would 
scarce  have  filled  half  a  page  of  print,  and.  it  would  seem  from  the  context,  must 
have  related  the  invasion  of  Andalusia  by  Fernando  and  the  ravages  commited 
by  his  armies. — Ed. 


CHRONICLE  OB1  FERNANDO  THE  SAINT.  69 

of  Andalusia,  and  was  pressing  the  siege  of  the  city  of  Jaen, 
which  he  assailed  by  means  of  engines  discharging  stones, 
when  a  courier  arrived  in  all  speed  from,  his  mother,  informing 
him  that  his  father  Alfonso  was  dead,  and  urging  him  to  pro- 
ceed instantly  to  Leon,  to  enforce  his  pretensions  to  the  crown. 
King  Fernando  accordingly  raised  the  siege  of  Jaen,  sending 
his  engines  to  Martos,  and  repaired  to  Castile,  to  consult  with 
his  mother,  who  was  his  counsellor  on  all  occasions. 

It  appeared  that  in  his  last  will  King  Alfonso  had  named  Ms 
two  daughters  joint  heirs  to  the  crown.  Some  of  the  Leonese 
and  Gailegos  were  disposed  to  place  the  Prince  Alonzo,  brother 
to  King  Fernando,  on  the  throne ;  but  he  had  Tstened  to  the 
commands  of  his  mother,  and  had  resisted  all  suggestions  ot 
the  kind ;  the  larger  part  of  the  kingdom,  including  the  most 
important  cities,  had  declared  for  Fernando. 

Accompanied  by  his  mother,  King  Fernando  proceeded 
instantly  into  the  kingdom  of  Leon  with  a  powerful  force. 
Wherever  they  went  the  cities  threw  open  their  gates  to  them. 
The  princesses  Dona  Sancha  and  Dona  Dulce,  with  their 
mother  Theresa,  would  have  assembled  a  force  to  oppose  them, 
but  the  prelates  were  all  in  favor  of  King  Fernando.  On  his 
approach  to  Leon,  the  bishops  and  clergy  and  all  the  principal 
inhabitants  came  forth  to  receive  him,  and  conducted  him  to 
the  cathedral,  where  he  received  their  homage,  and  was  pro- 
claimed king,  with  the  Te  Downs  of  the  choir  and  the  shouts 
of  the  people. 

Dona  Theresa,  who,  with  her  daughters,  was  in  Gallicia,  find- 
ing the  kingdom  thus  disposed  of,  sent  to  demand  provision 
for  herself  and  the  two  princesses,  who  in  fact  were  step- 
sisters of  King  Fernando.  Queen  Berenguela,  though  she  had 
some  reason  not  to  feel  kindly  disposed  toward  Doha  Theresa, 
who  she  might  think  had  been  exercising  a  secret  influence 
over  her  late  husband,  yet  suppressed  all  such  feelings,  and 
undertook  to  repair  in  person  to  Gallicia,  and  negotiate  this 
singular  family  question.  She  had  an  interview  with  Queen 
Theresa  at  Valencia  de  Merlio  in  GaUicia,  and  arranged  a  noble 
dower  for  her,  and  an  annual  revenue  to  each  of  her  daughters 
of  thirty  thousand  maravedis  of  gold.  The  king  then  had  a 
meeting  with  his  sisters  at  Benevonte,  where  they  resigned  all 
pretensions  to  the  throne.  All  the  fortified  places  which  held 
out  for  them  were  given  up,  and  thus  Fernando  became  undis- 
puted sovereign  of  the  two  kingdoms  of  Castile  and  Leon. 


70  MOORISH  UUIiOmCLEJS. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

EXPEDITION  OP  THE  PRINCE  ALONZO  AGAINST  THE  MOORS.— EN- 
CAMPS ON  THE  BANKS  OF  THE  GUADALETE. — ABEN  HUD  MARCHES 
OUT  FROM  XEREZ  AND  GIVES  BATTLE.— PROWESS  OF  GARCIA 
PEREZ  DE  VARGAS.— FLIGHT  AND  PURSUIT  OF  THE  MOORS.— 
MIRACLE  OF  THE  BLESSED  SANTIAGO. 

King  Fernando  III.,  having,  through  the  sage  counsel  and 
judicious  management  of  his  mother,  made  this  amicable 
agreement  with  his  step-sisters,  by  which  he  gained  possession 
of  their  inheritance,  now  found  his  territories  to  extend  from 
the  Bay  of  Biscay  to  the  vicinity  of  the  Guadalquivir,  and  from 
the  borders  of  Portugal  to  those  of  Aragon  and  Valencia ;  and 
in  addition  to  his  title  of  King  of  Castile  and  Leon,  called  him- 
self King  of  Spain  by  seigniorial  right.  Being  at  peace  with  all 
his  Christian  neighbors,  he  now  prepared  to  carry  on,  with 
more  zeal  and  vigor  than  ever,  his  holy  wars  against  the 
infidels.  While  making  a  progress,  however,  through  his 
dominions,  administering  justice,  he  sent  his  brother,  the 
Prince  Alonzo,  to  make  an  expedition  into  the  country  of  the 
Moors,  and  to  attack  the  newly  risen  power  of  Aben  Hud. 

As  the  Prince  Alonzo  was  young  and  of  little  experience,  the 
king  sent  Don  Alvar  Perez  de  Castro,  the  Castilian,  with  bun 
as  captain,  he  being  stout  of  heart,  strong  of  hand,  and  skilled 
in  war.  The  prince  and  his  captain  went  from  Salamanca  to 
Toledo,  where  they  recruited  their  force  with  a  troop  of  cav- 
alry. Thence  they  proceeded  to  Andujar,  where  they  sent  out 
corredores,  or  light  foraging  troops,  who  laid  waste  the 
country,  plundering  and  destroying  and  bringing  off  great 
booty.  Thence  they  directed  their  ravaging  course  toward 
Cordova,  assaulted  and  carried  Palma,  and  put  all  its  inhabi- 
tants to  the  sword.  Following  the  fertile  valley  of  the  Gua- 
dalquivir, they  scoured  the  vicinity  of  Seville,  and  continued 
onward  for  Xerez,  sweeping  off  cattle  and  sheep  from  the 
pastures  of  Andalusia;  driving  on  long  cavalgadas  of  horses 
and  mules  laden  with  spoil;  until  the  earth  shook  with  the 
tramping  of  their  feet,  and  their  course  was  marked  by  clouds 
of  dust  and  the  smoke  of  burning  villages. 

In  this  desolating  foray  they  were  joined  by  two  hundred 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNANDO   THE  SAINT.  71 

horse  and  three  hundred  foot,  Moorish  allies,  or  rather  vassals, 
being  led  by  the  son  of  Aben  Mohamed,  the  king  of  Baeza. 

Arrived  within  sight  of  Xerez,  they  pitched  their  tents  on 
the  banks  of  the  Guadalete— that  fatal  river,  sadly  renowned 
in  the  annals  of  Spain  for  the  overthrow  of  Roderick  and  the 
perdition  of  the  kingdom. 

Here  a  good  watch  was  set  over  the  captured  flocks  and 
herds  which  covered  the  adjacent  meadows,  while  the  soldiers, 
fatigued  with  ravage,  gave  themselves  up  to  repose  on  the 
banks  of  the  river,  or  indulged  in  feasting  and  revelry,  or 
gambled  with  each  other  for  their  booty. 

In  the  meantime  Aben  Hud,  hearing  of  this  inroad,  sum- 
moned all  his  chivalry  of  the  seaboard  of  Andalusia  to  meet 
him  in  Xerez.  They  hastened  to  obey  his  call ;  every  leader 
spurred  for  Xerez  with  his  band  of  vassals.  Thither  came  also 
the  king  of  the  Azules,  with  seven  hundred  horsemen,  Moors 
of  Africa,  light,  vigorous,  and  active ;  and  the  city  was  full  of 
troops. 

The  camp  of  Don  Alonzo  had  a  formidable  appearance  at  a 
distance,  from  the  flocks  and  herds  which  surrounded  it,  the 
vast  number  of  sumpter  mules,  and  the  numerous  captives; 
but  when  Aben  Hud  came  to  reconnoitre  it,  he  found  that  its 
aggregate  force  did  not  exceed  three  thousand  five  hundred 
men — a  mere  handful  in  comparison  to  his  army,  and  those 
encumbered  with  cattle  and  booty.  He  anticipated,  therefore, 
an  easy  victory.  He  now  sallied  forth  from  the  city,  and  took 
his  position  in  the  olive-fields  between  the  Christians  and  the 
city;  while  the  African  horsemen  were  stationed  on  each  wing, 
with  instructions  to  hem  in  the  Christians  on  either  side,  for  he 
was  only  apprehensive  of  their  escaping.  It  is  even  said  that 
he  ordered  great  quantities  of  cord  to  be  brought  from  the 
city,  and  osier  bands  to  be  made  by  the  soldiery,  wherewith  to 
bind  the  multitude  of  prisoners  about  to  fall  into  their  hands. 
His  whole  force  he  divided  into  seven  battalions,  each  contain- 
ing from  fifteen  hundred  to  two  thousand  cavalry.  With 
these  he  prepai'ed  to  give  battle. 

When  the  Christians  thus  saw  an  overwhelming  force  in 
front,  cavalry  hovering  on  either  flank,  and  the  deep  waters  of 
the  Guadalete  behind  them,  they  felt  the  peril  of  their  situa- 
tion. 

In  this  emergency  Alvar  Perez  de  Castro  showed  himself 
the  able  captain  that  he  had  been  represented.  Though  ap- 
parently deferring  to  the  prince  in  councd,  he  virtually  took 


72  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

the  command,  riding  among  the  troops  lightly  armed,  with 
truncheon  in  hand,  encouraging  every  one  by  word  and  look 
and  fearless  demeanor.  To  give  the  most  formidable  appear- 
ance to  their  little  host,  he  ordered  that  as  many  as  possible  of 
the  foot-soldiers  should  mount  upon  the  mules  and  beasts  of 
burden,  and  form  a  troop  to  be  kept  in  reserve.  Before  the 
battle  he  conferred  the  bonor  of  knighthood  on  Garcia  Perez 
do  Vargas,  a  cavalier  destined  to  gain  renown  for  hardy  deeds 
of  arms. 

When  the  troops  were  all  ready  for  the  field,  the  prince 
exhorted  them  as  good  Christians  to  confess  their  sins  and 
obtain  absolution.  There  was  a  goodly  number  of  priests  and 
friars  with  the  army,  as  there  generally  was  with  all  the  plun- 
dering expeditions  of  this  holy  war,  but  there  were  not  enough 
to  confess  all  the  army ;  those,  therefore,  who  could  not  have 
a  priest  or  monk  for  the  purpose,  confessed  to  each  other. 

Among  the  cavaliers  were  two  noted  for  their  valor;  but 
who,  though  brothers-in-law,  lived  in  mortal  feud.  One  was 
Diego  Perez,  vassal  to  Alvar  Perez  and  brother  to  him  who 
had  just  been  armed  knight;  the  other  was  Pero  Miguel,  both 
natives  of  Toledo.  Diego  Perez  was  the  one  who  had  given 
cause  of  offence.  He  now  approached  his  adversary  and  asked 
his  pardon  for  that  day  only ;  that,  in  a  time  of  such  mortal 
peril,  there  might  not  be  enmity  and  malice  in  their  hearts. 
The  priests  added  their  exhortations  to  this  request,  but  Pero 
Miguel  sternly  refused  to  pardon.  When  this  was  told  to  the 
prince  and  Don  Alvar,  they  likewise  entreated  Don  Miguel  to 
pardon  his  brother-in-law.  "I  will,"  replied  he,  "if  he  will 
come  to  my  arms  and  embrace  me  as  a  brother."  But  Diego 
Perez  declined  the  fraternal  embrace,  for  he  saw  danger  in  the 
eye  of  Pero  Miguel,  and  he  knew  his  savage  strength  and 
savage  nature,  and  suspected  that  he  meant  to  strangle  him. 
So  Pero  Miguel  went  into  battle  without  pardoning  his  enemy 
who  had  implored  forgiveness. 

At  this  time,  say  the  old  chroniclers,  the  shouts  and  yells  of 
the  Moorish  army,  the  sounds  of  their  cymbals,  kettle-drums, 
and  other  instruments  of  warlike  music,  were  so  great  that 
heaven  and  earth  seemed  commingled  "and  confounded.  In 
regarding  the  battle  about  to  overwhelm  him,  Alvar  Perez  saw 
that  the  only  chance  was  to  form  the  whole  army  into  one 
mass,  and  by  a  headlong  assault  to  break  the  centre  of  the 
enemy.  In  this  emergency  he  sent  word  to  the  prince,  who 
was  in  the  rear  -with  the  reserve  and  had  five  hundred  cap- 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNANDO  THE  SAINT.  73 

tives  in  charge,  to  strike  off  the  heads  of  the  captives  and  join 
him  with  the  whole  reserve.  Tins  bloody  order  was  obeyed. 
The  prince  can±e  to  the  front,  all  formed  together  in  one  dense 
column,  and  then,  with  the  war-cry  "Santiago!  Santiago!  Cas- 
tile! Castile !"  charged  upon  the  centre  of  the  enemy.  The 
Moors'  line  was  broken  by  the  shock,  so^adron  after  squadron 
was  thrown  into  confusion,  Moors  and  Christians  were  inter- 
mingled, until  the  field  became  one  scene  of  desperate,  chance- 
medley  fighting.  Every  Christian  cavalier  fought  as  if  the 
salvation  of  the  field  depended  upon  his  single  arm.  Garcia 
Perez  de  Vargas,  who  had  been  knighted  just  before  the  battle, 
proved  himself  worthy  of  the  honor.  He  had  three  horses 
killed  under  him,  and  engaged  in  a  desperate  combat  with  the 
king  of  the  Azules,  whom  at  length  he  struck  dead  from  his 
horse.  The  king  had  crossed  from  Africa  on  a  devout  expedi- 
tion in  the  cause  of  the  prophet  Mahomet.  "Verily,"  saya 
Antonio  Agapida,  "  he  had  his  reward." 

Diego  Perez  was  not  behind  Ms  brother  in  prowess ;  and 
Heaven  favored  him  in  that  deadly  fight,  notwithstanding  that 
he  had  not  been  pardoned  by  his  enemy.  In  the  heat  of  the 
battle  he  had  broken  both  sword  and  lance ;  whereupon,  tear- 
ing off  a  great  knotted  limb  from  an  olive-tree,  he  laid  about 
liim  with  such  vigor  and  manhood  that  he  who  got  one  blow 
in  the  head  from  that  war-club  never  needed  another.  Don 
Alvar  Perez,  who  witnessed  his  feats,  was  seized  with  delight. 
At  each  fresh  blow  that  cracked  a  Moslem  skull  he  would  cry 
out,  "  Assi !  Assi !  Diego,  Machacha !  Machacha !"  (So !  So !  Diego, 
smash  them !  smash  them !)  and  from  that  day  forward  that 
strong- handed  cavalier  went  by  the  name  of  Diego  Machacha, 
or  Diego  the  Smasher,  and  it  remained  the  surname  of  several 
of  his  lineage. 

At  length  the  Moors  gave  way  and  fled  for  the  gates  of 
Xerez;  being  hotly  pursued  they  stumbled  over  the  bodies  of  the 
slain,  and  thus  many  were  taken  prisoners.  At  the  gates  the 
press  was  so  great  that  they  killed  each  other  in  striving  to 
enter;  and  the  Christian  sword  made  slaughter  under  the 
walls. 

The  Christians  gathered  spoils  of  the  field,  after  this  victory, 
until  they  were  fatigued  with  collecting  them,  and  the  precious 
articles  found  in  the  Moorish  tents  were  beyond  calculation. 
Their  camp-fires  were  supplied  with  the  shafts  of  broken 
lances,  and  they  found  ample  use  for  the  cords  and  osier  bands 
which  the  Moors  had  provided  to  bind  their  expected  captives. 


74  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

It  was  a  theme  of  much  marvel  and  solemn  meditation  that 
of  all  the  distinguished  cavaliers  who  entered  into  this  battle, 
not  one  was  lost,  excepting  the  same  Pero  Miguel  who  refused 
to  pardon  his  adversary.  What  became  of  him  no  one  could 
tell.  The  last  that  was  seen  of  him  he  was  in  the  midst  of  the 
enemy,  cutting  down  and  overturning,  for  he  was  a  valiant 
warrior  and  of  prodigious  strength.  When  the  battle  and 
pursuit  were  at  an  end,  and  the  troops  were  recalled  by  sound 
of  trumpet,  he  did  not  appear.  His  tent  remained  empty. 
The  field  of  battle  was  searched,  but  he  was  nowhere  to  be 
found.  Some  supposed  that,  in  his  fierce  eagerness  to  make 
havoc  among  the  Moors,  he  had  entered  the  gates  of  the  city 
and  there  been  slain;  but  his  fate  remained  a  mere  matter  of 
conjecture,  and  the  whole  was  considered  an  awful  warning 
that  no  Christian  should  go  into  battle  without  pardoning 
those  who  asked  forgiveness. 

"On  this  day,"  says  the  worthy  Agapida,  "it  pleased  Heaven 
to  work  one  of  its  miracles  in  favor  of  the  Christian  host ;  for 
the  blessed  Santiago  appeared  in  the  air  on  a  white  horse,  with 
a  white  banner  in  one  hand  and  a  sword  in  the  other,  accom- 
panied by  a  band  of  cavaliers  in  white.  This  miracle,"  he 
adds,  "was  beheld  by  many  men  of  verity  and  worth,"  pro- 
bably the  monks  and  priests  who  accompanied  the  army ;  "as 
well  as  by  members  of  the  Moors,  who  declared  that  the  great- 
est slaughter  was  effected  by  those  sainted  Avarriors." 

It  may  be  as  well  to  add  that  Fray  Antonio  Agapida  is 
supported  in  this  marvellous  fact  by  Rodrigo,  Archbishop  of 
Toledo,  one  of  the  most  learned  and  pious  men  of  the  age,  who 
lived  at  the  time  and  records  it  in  his  chronicle.  It  is  a  matter, 
therefore,  placed  beyond  the  doubts  of  the  profane. 

Note  by  the  Editor.— A  memorandum  at  the  foot  of  this  page  of  the  author's 
manuscript,  reminds  him  to  li  notice  death  of  Queen  Beatrix  about  this  time,"  but 
the  text  continues  silent  on  the  subject.  According  to  Mariana,  she  died  in  the  city 
of  Toro  in  1235,  before  the  siege  of  Cordova.  Another  authority  gives  the  5th  of 
November,  1236,  as  the  date  of  the  decease,  which  would  be  some  months  after  the 
downfall  of  that  renowned  city.  Her  body  was  interred  in  the  nunnery  of  Las 
Huelgas  at  Burgos,  and  many  years  afterward  removed  to  Seville,  where  reposed 
the  remains  of  her  husband. 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNANDO   THE  SAINT.  75 


CHAPTER  VII. 

A  TOLD  ATTEMPT  UPON  CORDOVA,   THE   SEAT  OF  MOORISH   POWER. 

About  this  time  certain  Christian  cavaliers  of  the  frontier;; 
received  information  from  Moorish  captives  that  the  noble 
city  of  Cordova  was  negligently  guarded,  so  that  the  suburbs 
might  easily  be  surprised.  They  immediately  concerted  a 
boid  attempt,  and  sent  to  Pedro  and  Alvar  Perez,  who  were 
at  Martos,  entreating  them  to  aid  them  with  their  vassals. 
Having  collected  a  sufficient  force,  and  prepared  scaling-lad- 
ders, they  approached  the  city  on  a  dark  night  in  January, 
amid  showers  of  rain  and  howling  blasts,  which  prevented 
their  footsteps  being  heard.  Arrived  at  the  foot  of  the  ram- 
parts, they  listened,  but  could  hear  no  sentinel.  The  guards 
bad  shrunk  into  the  watch-towers  for  shelter  from  the  pelting 
storm,  and  the  garrison  was  in  profound  sleep,  for  it  was  the 
midwatch  of  the  night. 

Some,  disheartened  by  the  difficulties  of  the  place,  were  for 
abandoning  the  attempt,  but  Domingo  Munoz,  their  adalid,  or 
guide,  encouraged  them.  Silently  fastening  ladders  together, 
so  as  to  be  of  sufficient  length,  they  placed  them  against  one  of 
the  towers.  The  first  who  mounted  were  Alvar  Colodro  and 
Benito  de  Banos,  who  were  dressed  as  Moors  and  spoke  the 
Arabic  language.  The  tower  which  they  scaled  is  to  this  day 
called  the  tower  of  Alvar  Colodro.  Entering  it  suddenly  but 
silently,  they  found  four  Moors  asleep,  whom  they  seized  and 
threw  over  the  battlements,  and  the  Christians  below  immedi- 
ately dispatched  them.  By  this  time  a  number  more  of  Chris- 
tians had  mounted  the  ladder,  and  sallying  forth,  sword  in 
hand,  upon  the  wall,  they  gained  possession  of  several  towers 
and  of  the  gate  of  Mailtos.  Throwing  open  the  gate,  Pero 
Ruyz  Tabur  galloped  in  at  the  head  of  a  squadron  of  horse, 
and  by  the  dawn  of  day  the  whole  suburbs  of  Cordova,  called 
the  Axarquia,  were  in  their  possession;  the  inhabitants  having 
hastily  gathered  such  of  their  most  valuable  effects  as  they 
could  carry  with  them,  and  taken  refuge  in  the  city. 

The  cavaliers  now  barricaded  every  street  of  the  suburbs 
excepting  the  principal  one,  which  was  broad  and  straight; 
the  Moors,   however,   made  frequent  sallies  upon  them,   or 


76  MOORISH   CHRONICLES. 

showered  down  darts  and  arrows  and  stones  from  the  walls 
and  towers  of  the  city.  The  cavaliers  soon  found  that  they 
had  got  into  warm  quarters,  which  it  would  cost  them  blood 
and  toil  to  maintain.  They  sent  off  messengers,  therefore,  to 
Don  Alvar  Perez,  then  at  Martos,  and  to  King  Fernando,  at 
Benevente,  craving  instant  aid.  The  messenger  to  the  king 
travelled  day  and  night,  and  found  the  king  at  table ;  when, 
kneeling  down,  he  presented  the  letter  with  which  he  was 
charged. 

No  sooner  had  the  king  read  the  letter  than  he  called  for 
horse  and  weapon.  All  Benevente  instantly  resounded  with 
the  clang  of  arms  and  tramp  of  steed ;  couriers  galloped  off  in 
every  direction,  rousing  the  towns  and  villages  to  arms,  and 
ordering  every  one  to  join  the  king  on  the  frontier.  "Cor- 
dova! Cordova!"  was  the  war-cry — that  proud  city  of  the 
infidels!  that  seat  of  Moorish  power!  The  king  waited  not 
to  assemble  a  great  force,  but,  within  an  hour  after  receiving 
the  letter,  was  on  the  road  with  a  hundred  good  cavaliers. 

It  was  the  depth  of  winter;  the  rivers  were  swollen  with 
rain.  The  royal  party  were  often  obliged  to  halt  on  the  bank 
of  some  raging  stream  until  its  waters  should  subside.  The 
king  was  all  anxiety  and  impatience.  Cordova!  Cordova! 
was  the  prize  to  be  won,  and  the  cavaliers  might  be  driven  out 
of  the  suburbs  before  he  could  arrive  to  their  assistance. 

Arrived  at  Cordova,  he  proceeded  to  the  bridge  of  Alcolea, 
where  he  pitched  his  tents  and  displayed  the  royal  standard. 

Before  the  arrival  of  the  king,  Alvar  Perez  had  hastened 
from  the  castle  of  Martos  with  a  body  of  troops,  and  thrown 
himself  into  the  suburbs.  Many  warriors,  both  horse  and  foot, 
had  likewise  hastened  from  the  frontiers  and  from  the  various 
towns  to  which  the  king  had  sent  his  mandates.  Some  came 
to  serve  the  king,  others  out  of  devotion  to  the  holy  faith, 
some  to  gain  renown,  and  not  a  few  to  aid  in  plundering  the 
rich  city  of  Cordova.  There  were  many  monks,  also,  who  had 
come  for  the  glory  of  God  and  the  benefit  of  their  convents. 

When  the  Christians  in  the  suburbs  saw  the  royal  standard 
floating  above  the  camp  of  the  king,  they  shouted  for  joy,  and 
in  the  exultation  of  the  moment  forgot  all  past  dangers  and 
hardships. 


CIUiONWLE  OF  FERNANDO   THE  SAINT.  77 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

A  SPY  IN  THE  CHRISTIAN  CAMP.— DEATH  OF  ABEN  HUD.— A  VITAL 
ttLOW  TO  MOSLEM  POWER. —SURRENDER  OF  CORDOVA  TO  KIN,; 
FERNANDO. 

Aden  Hud,  the  Moorish  chief,  who  had  been  defeated  by 
Alvar  Perez  and  Prince  Alonzo  before  Xerez,  was  at  this  time 
in  Ecija  with  a  large  force,  and  disposed  to  hasten  to  the  aid  of 
Cordova,  but  his  recent  defeat  had  made  him  cautious.  He 
had  in  his  camp  a  Christian  cavalier,  Don  Lorenzo  Xuares  by 
name,  who  had  been  banished  from  Castde  by  King  Fernando. 
This  cavalier  offered  to  go  as  a  spy  into  the  Christian  camp, 
accompanied  by  three  Christian  horsemen,  and  to  bring  ac- 
counts of  its  situation  and  strength.  His  offer  was  gladly 
accepted,  and  Aben  Hud  promised  to  do  nothing  with  his  forces 
until  his  return. 

Don  Lorenzo  set  out  privately  with  his  companions,  and 
when  he  came  to  the  end  of  the  bridge  he  alighted  and  took 
one  of  the  three  with  him,  leaving  the  other  two  to  guard  the 
horses.  He  entered  the  camp  without  impediment,  and  saw 
that  it  was  small  and  of  but  little  force ;  for,  though  recruits 
had  repaired  from  all  quarters,  they  had  as  yet  arrived  in  but 
scanty  numbers. 

As  Don  Lorenzo  approached  the  camp  he  saw  a  montero  who 
stood  sentinel.  "Friend,"  said  he,  "  do  me  the  kindness  to  call 
to  me  some  person  who  is  about  the  king,  as  I  have  something 
to  tell  him  of  great  importance."  The  sentinel  went  in  and 
brought  out  Don  Otiella.  Don  Lorenzo  took  him  aside  and 
said,  "  Do  you  not  know  me  ?  I  am  Don  Lorenzo.  I  pray  you 
tell  the  king  that  I  entreat  permission  to  enter  and  communi- 
cate matters  touching  his  safety." 

Don  Otiella  went  in  and  awoke  the  king,  who  was  sleeping, 
and  obtained  permission  for  Don  Lorenzo  to  enter.  When  the 
king  beheld  him  he  was  wroth  at  his  presuming  to  return  from 
exile;  but  Don  Lorenzo  replied, — "Sefior,  your  majesty  ban- 
ished me  to  the  land  of  the  Moors  to  do  me  harm,  but  I  believe 
it  was  intended  by  Heaven  for  the  welfare  both  of  your 
majesty  and  myself. "    Then  he  apprised  the  king  of  the  inten- 


78  Moorish  chronicles. 

tion  of  Aben  Hud  to  come  with  a  great  force  against  Jiim,  and 
of  the  doubts  and  fears  he  entertained  lest  the  army  of  the 
king  should  be  too  powerful.  Don  Lorenzo,  therefore,  advised 
the  king  to  draw  off  as  many  troops  as  could  be  spared  from 
the  suburbs  of  Cordova,  and  to  give  his  camp  as  formidable  an 
aspect  as  possible ;  and  that  he  would  return  and  give  Aben 
Hud  such  an  account  of  the  power  of  the  royal  camp  as  would 
deter  him  from  the  attack.  "If,"  continued  Don  Lorenzo,  "  I 
fail  in  diverting  him  from  his  enterprise,  I  will  come  off  with 
all  my  vassals  and  offer  myself,  and  all  I  can  command,  for  the 
service  of  your  majesty,  and  hope  to  be  accepted  for  my  good 
intentions.  As  to  what  takes  place  in  the  Moorish  camp,  from 
hence,  in  three  days,  I  will  send  your  majesty  letters  by  this 
my  esquire. " 

The  king  thanked  Don  Lorenzo  for  his  good  intentions,  and 
pardoned  him,  and  took  him  as  his  vassal ;  and  Don  Lorenzo 
said:  "I  beseech  your  majesty  to  order  that  for  three  or  four 
nights  there  be  made  great  fires  in  various  parts  of  the  camp, 
so  that  in  case  Aben  Hud  shoidd  send  scouts  by  night,  there 
may  be  the  appearance  of  a  great  host."  The  king  promised  it 
shoidd  be  done,  and  Don  Lorenzo  took  his  leave ;  rejoining  his 
companions  at  the  bridge,  they  mounted  their  horses  and  trav- 
elled all  night  and  returned  to  Ecija. 

When  Don  Lorenzo  appeared  in  presence  of  Aben  Hud  he 
had  the  air  of  one  fatigued  and  careworn.  To  the  inquiries  of 
the  Moor  he  returned  answers  full  of  alarm,  magnifying  the 
power  and  condition  of  the  royal  forces.  "Senor,"  added  he, 
"if  you  would  be  assured  of  the  truth  of  what  I  say,  send  out 
your  scouts,  and  they  will  behold  the  Christian  tents  whitening 
all  the  banks  of  the  Guadalquivir,  and  covering  the  country  as 
the  snow  covers  the  mountains  of  Granada ;  or  at  night  they 
will  see  fires  on  hill  and  dale  illumining  all  the  land. " 

This  intelligence  redoubled  the  doubts  and  apprehensions  of 
Aben  Hud.  On  the  following  day  two  Moorish  horsemen  ar- 
rived in  all  haste  from  Zaen,  King  of  Valencia,  informing  him 
that  King  James  of  Aragon  was  coming  against  that  place  with 
a  powerful  army,  and  offering  him  the  supremacy  of  the  place 
if  he  would  hasten  with  all  speed  to  its  relief. 

Aben  Hud,  thus  perplexed  between  two  objects,  asked  advice 
of  his  counsellors,  among  whom  was  the  perfidious  Don  Lo- 
renzo. They  observed  that  the  Christians,  though  they  had 
possession  of  the  suburl  >s  of  Cordova,  could  not  for  a  long  time 
master  the  place.     He  would  have  time,  therefore,  to  relieve 


CHRONICLE   OF  FERNANDO   THE  SAINT.  79 

Valencia,  and  then  turn  his  arms  and  those  of  King  Zaen 
against  the  host  of  King  Fernando. 

Aben  Hud  listened  to  their  advice,  and  marched  immediately 
for  Almeria,  to  take  thence  his  ships  to  guard  the  port  of  Valen- 
cia. While  at  Almeria  a  Moor  named  Aben  Arramin,  and  who 
was  his  especial  favorite,  invited  him  to  a  banquet.  The  un- 
suspecting Aben  Hud  threw  off  his  cares  for  the  time  and 
giving  loose  to  convivialty  in  the  house  of  his  favorite,  drank 
freely  of  the  wine-cup  that  was  insidiously  pressed  upon  him 
untd  he  became  intoxicated.  He  was  then  suffocated  by  the 
traitor  in  a  trough  of  water,  and  it  was  given  out  that  he  had 
died  of  apoplexy. 

At  the  death  of  Aben  Hud,  his  host  fell  asunder,  and  every 
one  hied  him  to  his  home,  whereupon  Don  Lorenzo  and  the 
Christians  who  were  with  him  hastened  to  King  Fernando,  by 
whom  they  were  graciously  received  and  admitted  into  his 
royal  service. 

The  death  of  Aben  Hud  was  a  vital  blow  to  Moslem  power, 
and  spread  confusion  throughout  Andalusia.  When  the  people 
of  Cordova  heard  of  it,  and  of  the  dismemberment  of  Ins 
army,  all  courage  withered  from  their  hearts.  Day  after  day 
the  army  of  King  Fernando  was  increasing,  the  roads  were 
covered  with  foot-soldiers  hastening  to  his  standard;  every 
hidalgo  who  could  bestride  a  horse  spurred  to  the  banks  of  the 
Guadalquivir  to  be  present  at  the  downfall  of  Cordova.  The 
noblest  cavaliers  of  Castile  were  continually  seen  marching 
into  the  camp  with  banners  flying  and  long  trains  of  retainers. 

The  inhabitants  held  out  as  long  as  there  was  help  or  hope ; 
but  they  were  exhausted  by  frequent  combats  and  long  and  in- 
creasing famine,  and  now  the  death  of  Aben  Hud  cut  off  all 
chance  of  succor.  With  sad  and  broken  spirits,  therefore,  they 
surrendered  their  noble  city  to  King  Fernando,  after  a  siege  of 
six  months  and  six  days.  The  surrender  took  place  on  Sunday, 
the  twenty-ninth  day  of  July,  the  feast  of  the  glorious  Apostles 
St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul,  in  the  year  of  the  .Incarnation  one 
thousand  two  hundred  and  thirty-six. 

The  inhabitants  were  permitted  to  march  forth  in  personal 
safety,  but  to  take  nothing  with  them.  "  Thus."  exclaims  the 
pious  Agapida.  "was  the  city  of  Cordova,  the  queen  of  the 
cities  of  Andalusia,  which  so  long  had  been  the  seat  of  the 
power  and  grandeur  of  the  Moors,  cleansed  from  all  the  im- 
purities of  Mahomet  and  restored  to  the  dominion  of  the  true 
faith." 


80  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

King  Fernando  immediately  ordered  the  cross  to  be  elevated 
on  the  tower  of  the  principal  mosque,  and  beside  it  the  royal 
standard;  while  the  bishops,  the  clergy,  and  all  the  people 
chanted  Te  Deam  Laudamus,  as  a  song  of  triumph  for  this 
great  victory  of  the  faith.* 

The  king,  having  now  gained  full  possession  of  the  city,  be- 
gan to  repair,  embellish,  and  improve  it.  The  grand  mosque, 
the  greatest  and  most  magnificent  in  Spam,  was  now  converted 
into  a  holy  Catholic  church.  The  bishops  and  other  clergy 
walked  round  it  in  solemn  procession,  sprinkling  holy  water 
in  every  nook  and  corner,  and  performing  ali  other  rites  and 
ceremonies  necessary  to  purify  and  sanctify  it.  They  erected 
an  altar  in  it,  also,  in  honor  of  the  Virgin,  and  chanted  masses 
with  great  fervor  and  unction.  In  this  way  they  consecrated 
it  to  the  true  faith,  and  made  it  the  cathedral  of  the  city. 

In  this  mosque  were  found  the  bells  of  the  church  of  San 
Iago  in  Gallicia,  which  the  Alhagib  Almanzor,  in  the  year  of 
our  Redemption  nine  hundred  and  seventy-five,  had  brought 
oft  in  triumph  and  placed  here,  turned  with  then  mouths  up- 
ward to  serve  as  lamps,  and  remain  shining  mementoes  of  his 
victory.  King  Fernando  ordered  that  these  bells  should  be  re- 
stored to  the  church  of  San  Iago ;  and  as  Christians  had  been 
obliged  to  bring  those  bells  hither  on  their  shoulders,  so  in- 
fidels were  compelled  in  like  manner  to  carry  them  back. 
Great  was  the  popular  triumph  when  these  bells  had  their 
tongues  restored  to  them,  and  were  once  more  enabled  to  fill 
the  air  with  their  holy  clangor. 

Having  ordered  all  things  for  the  security  and  welfare  of 
the  city,  the  king  placed  it  under  the  government  of  Don 
Tello  Alonzo  de  Meneses ;  he  appointed  Don  Alvar  Perez  de 
Castro,  also,  general  of  the  frontier,  having  his  stronghold  in 
the  castle  of  the  rock  of  Mai'tos.  The  king  then  returned, 
covered  with  glory,  to  Toledo. 

The  fame  of  the  recovery  of  the  renowned  city  of  Cordova, 
which  for  five  hundred  and  twenty-two  years  had  been  in  the 
power  of  the  infidels,  soon  spread  throughout  the  kingdom, 
and  people  came  crowding  from  every  part  to  inhabit  it.  The 
gates  which  lately  had  been  thronged  with; steel-clad  warriors 
were  now  besieged  by  peaceful  wayfarers  of  all  kinds,  con- 
ducting trains  of  nudes  laden  with  their  effect  and  all  their 


*  Croa.  Gen.  de  Espafia,  pt.  4.    Bleda,  lib.  4,  c.  10. 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNANDO   THE  SAINT.  81 

household  wealth;  and  so  great  was  the  throng  that  in  a  little 
while  there  were  not  houses  sufficient  to  receive  them. 

King  Fernando,  having  restored  the  bells  to  San  Iago,  had 
others  suspended  in  the  tower  of  the  mosque,  whence  the 
muezzin  had  been  accustomed  to  call  the  Moslems  to  their 
worship.  "  When  the  pilgrims,"  says  Fray  Antonio  Agapida, 
"who  repaired  to  Cordova,  heard  the  holy  sound  of  these 
bells  chiming  from  the  tower  of  the  cathedral,  their  hearts 
leaped  for  joy,  and  they  invoked  blessings  on  the  head  of  the 
pious  King  Fernando." 


CHAPTER  IX. 


MARRIAGE    OF    KING   FERNANDO    TO    THE     PRINCESS  JUANITA— 
FAMINE   AT   CORDOVA. — DON   ALVAR  PEREZ. 

"When  Queen  Berenguela  beheld  King  Fernando  returning 
in  triumph  from  the  conquest  of  Cordova,  her  heart  was  lifted 
up  with  transport,  for  there  is  nothing  that  more  rejoices  the 
heart  of  a  mother  than  the  true  glory  of  her  son.  The  queen, 
however,  as  has  been  abundantly  shown,  was  a  woman  of 
great  sagacity  and  forecast.  Sbe  considered  that  upwards  of 
two  years  had  elapsed  since  the  death  of  the  Queen  Beatrix, 
and  that  her  son  was  living  in  widowhood.  It  is  true  he  was 
of  quiet  temperament,  and  seemed  sufficiently  occupied  by  tbe 
cares  of  government  and  the  Avars  for  the  faith ;  so  that  ap- 
parently he  had  no  thought  of  further  matrimony;  but  the 
shrewd  mother  considered  likewise  that  he  was  in  the  prime 
and  vigor  of  his  days,  renowned  in  arms,  noble  and  command- 
in?;  in  person,  and  gracious  and  captivating  in  manners,  and 
surrounded  by  the  temptations  of  a  court.  True,  he  was  a 
saint  in  spirit,  but  after  all  in  flesh  he  was  a  man,  and  might 
be  led  away  into  those  weaknesses  very  incident  to,  but  highly 
unbecoming  of,  the  exalted  state  of  princes.  The  good  mother 
was  anxious,  therefore,  that  he  should  enter  again  into  the 
secure  and  holy  state  of  wedlock. 

King  Fernando,  a  mirror  of  obedience  to  his  mother,  readily 
concurred  with  her  views  in  the  present  instance,  and  left  it  to 
her  judgment  and  discretion  to  make  a  choice  for  him.  The 
choice  fell  upon  the  Princess  Juana,  daughter  of  the  Count  of 


82  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

Pothier,  and  a  descendant  of  Louis  the  Seventh  of  France. 
The  marriage  was  negotiated  by  Queen  Berenguela  with  the 
Count  of  Pothier;  and  the  conditions  being  satisfactorily 
arranged,  the  princess  was  conducted  in  due  state  to  Burgos, 
where  the  nuptials  were  celebrated  with  great  pomp  and  cere- 
mony. 

The  king,  as  well  as  his  subjects,  was  highly  satisfied  with 
the  choice  of  the  sage  Berenguela,  for  the  bride  was  young, 
beautiful,  and  of  stately  form,  and  conducted  herself  with 
admirable  suavity  and  grace. 

After  the  rejoicings  were  over,  King  Fernando  departed 
with  his  bride,  and  visited  the  principal  cities  and  towns  of 
Castile  and  Leon;  receiving  the  homage  of  his  subjects,  and 
administering  justice  accoi*ding  to  the  primitive  forms  of 
those  days,  when  sovereigns  attended  personally  to  the  peti- 
tions and  complaints  of  their  subjects,  and  went  about  hearing 
causes  and  redressing  grievances. 

In  the  course  of  his  progress,  hearing  while  at  Toledo  of  a 
severe  famine  which  prevailed  at  Cordova,  he  sent  a  large 
supply  of  money  to  that  city,  and  at  the  same  time  issued 
orders  to  various  parts  to  transport  thither  as  much  grain  as 
possible.  The  calamity,  however,  went  on  increasing.  The 
conquest  of  Cordova  had  drawn  thither  great  multitudes,  ex- 
pecting to  thrive  on  the  well-known  fertility  and  abundance  of 
the  country.  But  the  Moors,  in  the  agitation  of  the  time,  had 
almost  ceased  to  cultivate  their  fields;  the  troops  helped  to 
consume  the  supplies  on  hand ;  there  were  few  hands  to  labor 
and  an  infinity  of  mouths  to  eat,  and  the  cry  of  famine  went 
on  daily  growing  more  intense. 

Upon  this,  Don  Alvar  Perez,  who  had  command  of  the  fron- 
tier, set  off  to  represent  the  case  in  person  to  the  king;  for  one 
living  word  from  the  mouth  is  more  effective  than  a  thousand 
dead  words  from  the  pen.  He  found  the  king  at  Valladolid, 
deeply  immersed  in  the  religious  exercises  of  Holy  Week,  and 
much  did  it  grieve  this  saintly  monarch,  say  his  chroniclers,  to 
be  obliged  even  for  a  moment  to  quit  the  holy  quiet  of  the 
church  for  the  worldly  bustle  of  the  palace,  to  lay  by  the  saint 
and  enact  the  sovereign.  Having  heard  tha  representations  of 
Don  Alvar  Perez,  he  forthwith  gave  him  ample  funds  where- 
with to  maintain  his  castles,  his  soldiers,  and  even  the  idlers 
who  thronged  about  the  frontier,  and  who  would  be  useful 
subjects  when  the  times  should  become  settled.  Satisfied,  also, 
of  the  zeal  and  loyalty  of  Alvar  Perez,  which  had  been  so 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNANDO  THE  SAINT.  83 

strikingly  displayed  in  the  present  instance,  he  appointed  him 
adelantado  of  the  whole  frontier  of  Andalusia— an  office  equi- 
valent to  that  at  present  called  viceroy.  Don  Alvar  hastened 
back  to  execute  his  mission  and  enter  upon  his  new  office.  He 
took  his  station  at  Martos,  in  its  rock-built  castle,  which  was 
the  key  of  all  that  frontier,  whence  he  could  carry  relief  to  any 
point  of  his  command,  and  could  make  occasional  incursions 
into  the  territories.  The  following  chapter  will  show  the  cares 
and  anxieties  which  awaited  him  in  his  new  command. 


CHAPTER  X. 

ABEN  ALHAMAR,  FOUNDER  OF  THE  A.LHAMBRA. — FORTIFIES  GRA- 
NADA AND  MAKES  IT  HIS  CAPITAL. — ATTEMPTS  TO  SURPRISE? 
THE  CASTLE  OF  MARTOS. — PERIL  OF  THE  FORTRESS. — A  WOMAN'S 
STRATAGEM  TO  SAVE  IT.— DIEGO  PEREZ,  THE  SMASHER. — DEATH 
OF  COUNT  ALVAR  PEREZ  DE   CASTRO. 

On  the  death  of  Aben  Hud,  the  Moorish  power  in  Spain  was 
br  ken  up  into  factions,  as  has  already  been  mentioned ;  but 
thuse  factions  were  soon  united  under  one  head,  who  threat- 
ened to  be  a  formidable  adversary  to  the  Christians.  This  was 
Mohammed  ben  Alhamar,  or  Aben  Albamar,  as  he  is  common- 
ly called  in  history.  He  was  a  native  of  Arjona,  of  noble  de- 
scent, being  of  the  Beni  Nasar,  or  race  of  Nasar,  and  had  been 
educated  in  a  manner  befitting  his  rank.  Arrived  at  manly 
years,  he  had  been  appointed  alcayde  of  Arjona  and  Jaen,  and 
had  distinguished  himself  by  the  justice  and  benignity  of  his 
rule.  He  was  intrepid,  also,  and  ambitious,  and  during  the 
late  dissensions  among  the  Moslems  had  extended  his  territo- 
ries, making  himself  master  of  many  strong  places. 

On  the  death  of  Aben  Hud,  he  made  a  military  circuit 
through  the  Moorish  territories,  and  was  everywhere  hailed 
with  acclamations  as  the  only  one  who  could  save  the  Moslem 
power  in  Spain  from  annihilation.  At  length  he  entered  Gra- 
nada amidst  the  enthusiastic  shouts  of  the  populace.  Here  he 
was  proclaimed  king,  and  found  himself  at  the  head  of  the 
Moslems  of  Spain,  being  the  first  of  his  illustrious  fine  that 
ever  sat  upon  a  throne.  It  needs  nothing  more  to  give  lasting 
renown  to  Aben  Alhamar  than  to  say  he  was  the  founder  of  the 


84  MOORISH   CHRONICLES. 

Alhambra,  that  magnificent  monument  which  to  this  day 
bears  testimony  to  Moorish  taste  and  splendor.  As  yet,  how- 
ever, Aben  Alhamar  had  not  time  to  indulge  in  the  arts  of 
peace.  He  saw  the  storm  of  war  that  threatened  his  newly 
founded  kingdom,  and  prepared  to  buffet  with  it.  The  territo- 
ries of  Granada  extended  along  the  coast  from  Algeziras  almost 
to  Murcia,  and  inland  as  far  as  Jaen  and  Huescar.  All  the 
frontiers  he  hastened  to  put  in  a  state  of  defence,  while  he 
strongly  fortified  the  city  of  Granada,  which  he  made  his 
capital. 

By  the  Mahometan  law  every  citizen  is  a  soldier  and  to 
take  arms  in  defence  of  the  coimtry  and  the  faith  is  a  religious 
and  imperative  duty.  Aben  Alhamar,  however,  knew  the  un- 
steadiness of  hastily  levied  militia,  and  organized  a  standing 
force  to  garrison  his  forts  and  cities,  the  expense  of  which  he 
defrayed  from  his  own  revenues.  The  Moslem  warriors  from 
all  parts  now  rallied  under  his  standard,  and  fifty  thousand 
Moors,  abandoning  Valencia  on  the  conquest  of  that  country  by 
the  king  of  Aragon,  hastened  to  put  themselves  under  the  do- 
minion of  Aben  Alhamar. 

Don  Alvar  Perez,  on  returning  to  his  post,  had  intelligence 
of  all  these  circumstances,  and  perceived  that  he  had  not  suffi- 
cient force  to  make  head  against  such  a  formidable  neighbor, 
and  that  in  fact  the  whole  frontier,  so  recently  wrested  from 
the  Moors,  was  in  danger  of  being  reconquered.  With  his  old 
maxim,  therefore,  ' '  There  is  more  life  in  one  word  from  the 
mouth  than  in  a  thousand  words  from  the  pen,"  he  deter- 
mined to  have  another  interview  with  King  Fernanda,  and 
acquaint  him  with  the  imminent  dangers  impending  over  the 
frontier. 

He  accordingly  took  his  departure  with  great  secrecy,  leav- 
ing his  countess  and  her  women  and  donzellas  in  his  castle  of 
the  rock  of  Martos,  guarded  by  his  nephew  Don  Tello  and  forty 
chosen  men. 

The  departure  of  Don  Alvar  Perez  was  not  so  secret,  how- 
ever, but  that  Aben  Alhamar  had  notice  of  it  by  his  spies,  and 
he  resolved  to  make  an  attempt  to  surprise  the  castle  of  Mar- 
tos, which,  as  has  been  said,  was  the  key  to  all  this  frontier. 

Don  Tello,  who  had  been  left  in  command  of  the  fortress, 
was  a  young  galliard,  full  of  the  fire  of  youth,  and  he  had  sev- 
eral hardy  and  adventurous  cavaliers  with  him,  among  whom 
was  Diego  Perez  de  Vargas,  surnamed  Machacha,  or  the 
Smasher,  for  Ins  exploits  at  the  battle  of  Xerez  in  smashing 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNANDO   THE  SAINT.  85 

the  heads  of  the  Moors  with  the  limh  of  an  olive  tree.  These 
hot-blooded  cavaliers,  looking  out  like  hawks  from  then- 
mountain  hold,  were  seized  with  an  irresistible  inclination  to 
make  a  foray  into  the  lands  of  their  Moorish  neighbors.  On  a 
bright  morning  they  accordingly  set  forth,  promising  the  don- 
zeUas  of  the  castle  to  bring  them  jewels  and  rich  silks,  the 
spoils  of  Moorish  women. 

The  cavaliers  had  not  been  long  gone  when  the  castle  was 
alarmed  by  the  sound  of  trumpets,  and  the  watchman  from 
the  tower  gave  notice  of  a  cloud  of  dust,  with  Moorish  banners 
and  armor  gleaming  through  it.  It  was,  in  fact,  the  Moorish 
king,  Aben  Alhamar,  who  pitched  his  tents  before  the  castle. 

Great  was  the  consternation  that  reigned  within  the  walls, 
for  all  the  men  were  absent,  excepting  one  or  two  necessary 
for  the  service  of  the  castle.  The  dames  and  donzellas  gave 
themselves  up  to  despair,  expecting  to  be  carried  away  cap- 
tive, perhaps  to  supply  some  Moorish  harem.  The  countess, 
however,  was  of  an  intrepid  spirit  and  ready  invention.  Sum- 
moning her  duenas  and  damsels,  she  made  them  arrange  their 
hair,  and  dress  themselves  like  men,  take  weapons  in  hand, 
and  show  themselves  between  the  battlements.  The  Moorish 
king  was  deceived,  and  supposed  the  fort  well  garrisoned.  He 
was  deterred,  therefore,  from  attempting  to  take  it  by  storm. 
In  the  mean  time  she  dispatched  a  messenger  by  the  postern- 
gate,  with  orders  to  speed  swiftly  in  quest  of  Don  Tello,  and 
tell  him  the  peril  of  the  fortress. 

At  hearing  these  tidings,  Don  Tello  and  his  companions 
turned  their  reins  and  spurred  back  for  the  castle,  but  on 
drawing  nigh,  they  saw  from  a  hill  that  it  was  invested  by 
a  numerous  host  who  were  battering  the  walls.  It  was  an 
appalling  sight— to  cut  their  way  through  such  a  force  seemed 
hopeless— yet  their  hearts  were  wrung  with  anguish  when  they 
thought  of  the  countess  and  her  helpless  donzellas.  Upon 
this,  Diego  Perez  de  Vargas,  surnamed  Machacha,  stepped 
forward  and  proposed  to  form  a  forlorn  hope,  and  attempt 
to  force  a  passage  to  the  castle.  "If  any  of  us  succeed,"  said 
he,  ' '  we  may  save  the  countess  and  the  rock ;  if  we  fall,  we 
shall  save  our  souls  and  act  the  parts  of  good  cavaliers.  Tins 
rock  is  the  key  of  all  the  frontier,  on  which  the  king  depends 
to  get  possession  of  the  country.  Shame  would  it  be  if  Moors 
should  capture  it;  above  all,  if  they  should  lead  away  our 
honored  countess  and  her  ladies  captive  before  our  eyes, 
while  our  lances  remain  unstained  by  blood  and  we  unscarred 


SO  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

with  a  wound.  For  my  part,  I  would  rather  die  than  seo  it. 
Life  is  hut  short;  we  should  do  in  it  our  best.  So,  in  a  word, 
cavaliers,  if  you  refuse  to  join  nie  I  will  take  my  leave  of  you 
and  do  what  I  can  with  my  single  arm." 

"  Diego  Perez,"  cried  Don  Tello,  "  you  have  spoken  my  very 
wishes;  I  will  stand  by  you  until  the  death,  and  let  those  who 
are  good  cavaliers  and  hidalgos  follow  our  example." 

The  other  cavaliers  caught  fire  at  these  words ;  forming  a 
solid  squadron,  they  put  spurs  to  their  horses,  and  rushed 
down  upon  the  Moors.  The  first  who  broke  into  the  ranks  of 
the  enemy  was  Diego  Perez,  the  Smasher,  and  he  opened  a 
way  for  the  others.  Their  only  object  was  to  cut  their  way 
to  the  fortress;  so  they  fought  and  pressed  forward.  The 
most  of  them  got  to  the  rock ;  some  were  cut  off  by  the  Moors, 
and  died  like  valiant  knights,  fighting  to  the  last  gasp. 

When  the  Moorish  king  saw  the  daring  of  these  cavaliers, 
and  that  they  had  succeeded  in  reinforcing  the  garrison,  he 
despaired  of  gaining  the  castle  without  much  time,  trouble, 
and  loss  of  blood.  He  persuaded  himself,  therefore,  that  it 
was  not  worth  the  price,  and,  striking  his  tents,  abandoned  the 
siege.  Thus  the  rock  of  Martos  was  saved  by  the  sagacity  of 
the  countess  and  the  prowess  of  Diego  Perez  de  Vargas,  sur- 
named  the  Smasher. 

In  the  mean  time,  Don  Alvar  Perez  de  Castro  arrived  in  pres- 
ence of  the  king  at  Hutiel.  King  Fernando  received  him  with 
benignity,  but  seemed  to  think  his  zeal  beyond  his  prudence ; 
leaving  so  important  a  frontier  so  weakly  guarded,  sinking  the 
viceroy  in  the  courier,  and  coming  so  far  to  give  by  word  of 
mouth  what  might  easily  have  been  communicated  by  letter. 
He  felt  the  value,  however,  of  his  loyalty  and  devotion,  but, 
furnishing  him  with  ample  funds,  requested  him  to  lose  no 
time  in  getting  back  to  his  post.  The  count  set  out  on  his 
return,  but  it  is  probable  the  ardor  and  excitement  of  his  spirit 
proved  fatal  to  him,  for  he  was  seized  with  a  violent  fever 
when  on  the  journey,  and  died  in  the  town  of  Orgaz. 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNANDO   THE  SAINT.  87 


CHAPTER  XI. 

ABEN  HUDIEL,  THE  MOORISH  KING  OF  MURCIA,  BECOMES  THE 
VASSAL  OF  KING  FERNANDO. — ABEN  ALHAMAR  SEEKS  TO  DRIVE 
THE  CHRISTIANS  OUT  OF  ANDALUSIA.— FERNANDO  TAKES  THE 
FIELD  AGAINST  HIM.  —  RAVAGES  OF  TEE  KING. — HIS  LAST 
MEETING  WITH  THE   QUEEN-MOTHER. 

The  death  of  Count  Alvar  Perez  de  Castro  caused  deep  afflic- 
tion to  King  Fernando,  for  he  considered  him  the  shield  of  the 
frontier.  While  he  was  at  Cordova,  or  at  his  rock  of  Martos, 
the  king  felt  as  assured  of  the  safety  of  the  border  as  though 
he  had  been  there  himself.  As  soon  as  he  could  be  spared  from 
Castile  and  Leon,  he  hastened  to  Cordova,  to  supply  the  loss 
the  frontier  had  sustained  in  the  person  of  his  vigilant  lieuten- 
ant. One  of  his  first  measures  was  to  effect  a  truce  of  one  year 
with  the  king  of  Granada — a  measure  which  each  adopted  with 
great  regret,  compelled  by  his  several  policy :  King  Fernando 
to  organize  and  secure  his  recent  conquests;  Aben  Alhamar  to 
regulate  and  fortify  his  newly  founded  kingdom.  Each  felt 
that  he  had  a  powerful  enemy  to  encounter  and  a  desperate 
struggle  before  him. 

King  Fernando  remained  at  Cordova  until  the  spring  of  the 
following  year  (1241),  regulating  the  affairs  of  that  noble  city, 
assigning  houses  and  estates  to  such  of  his  cavaliers  as  had  dis- 
tinguished themselves  in  the  conquest,  and.  as  usual,  making 
rich  donations  of  towns  and  great  tracts  of  land  to  the  Church 
and  to  different  religious  orders.  Leaving  his  brother  Alfonso 
with  a  sufficient  force  to  keep  an  eye  upon  the  king  of  Gra- 
nada and  hold  him  in  check,  King  Fernando  departed  for 
Castile,  making  a  circuit  by  Jaen  and  Baeza  and  Andujar,  and 
arriving  in  Toledo  on  the  fourth  of  April.  Here  he  received 
important  propositions  from  Aben  Hudiel.  the  Moorish  king 
of  Murcia.  The  death  of  Aben  Hud  had  left  that  kingdom  a 
scene  of  confusion.  The  alcaydes  of  the  different  cities  and 
fortresses  were  at  strife  with  each  other,  and  many  refused 
allegiance  to  Aben  Hudiel.  The  latter,  too,  was  in  hostility 
with  Aben  Alhamar,  the  king  of  Granada,  and  he  feared  he 
would  take  advantage  of  his  truce  with  King  Fernando,  and 
the  distracted  state  of  the  kingdom  of  Murcia,  to  make  an  in- 


88  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

road.  Thus  desperately  situated,  Aben  Hudiel  had  sent  mis- 
sives to  King  Fernando,  entreating  his  protection,  and  offering 
to  become  his  vassal. 

The  king  of  Castile  gladly  closed  with  this  offer.  He  forth- 
with sent  his  son  and  heir,  the  Prince  Alfonso,  to  receive  the 
submission  of  the  king  of  Murcia.  As  the  prince  was  young 
and  inexperienced  in  these  affairs  of  state,  he  sent  with  him 
Don  Pelayo  do  Corrca,  the  Grand  Master  of  Santiago,  a  cava- 
lier of  consummate  wisdom  and  address,  and  also  Rodrigo 
Gonzalez  Giron.  The  prince  was  received  in  Murcia  with 
regal  honors;  the  terms  were  soon  adjusted  by  which  the 
Moorish  king  acknowledged  vassalage  to  King  Fernando,  and 
ceded  to  him  one-half  of  his  revenues,  in  return  for  which  the 
king  graciously  took  him  under  his  protection.  The  alcaydes  of 
Aiicant,  Elche,  Oriola,  and  several  other  places,  agreed  to  this 
covenant  of  vassalage,  but  it  was  indignantly  spurned  by  the 
Wali  of  Lorca ;  he  had  been  put  in  office  by  Aben  Hud ;  and, 
now  that  potentate  was  no  more,  he  aspired  to  exercise  an 
independent  sway,  and  had  placed  alcaydes  of  his  own  party 
in  Mula  and  Carthagena. 

As  the  Prince  Alfonso  had  come  to  solemnize  the  act  of 
homage  and  vassalage  proposed  by  the  Moorish  king,  and  not 
to  extort  submission  from  his  subjects  by  force  of  arms,  he 
contented  himself  with  making  a  progress  through  the  king- 
dom and  receiving  the  homage  of  the  acquiescent  towns  and 
cities,  after  which  he  rejoined  his  father  in  Castile. 

It  is  conceived  by  the  worthy  Fray  Antonio  Agapida,  as  well 
as  by  other  monkish  chroniclers,  that  this  important  acquisi- 
tion of  territory  by  the  saintly  Fernando  was  a  boon  from 
Heaven  in  reward  of  an  offering  which  he  made  to  God  of  his 
daughter  Berenguela,  whom  early  in  this  year  he  dedicated  as 
a  nun  in  the  convent  of  Las  Huelgas,  in  Burgos— of  which  con- 
vent the  king's  sister  Constanza  was  abbess.* 

About  this  time  it  was  that  King  Fernando  gave  an  instance 
of  his  maganimity  and  his  chivalrous  disposition.  We  have 
Keen  the  deadly  opposition  he  had  experienced  from  the 
haughty  house  of  Lara,  and  the  ruin  which  the  three  brothers 
brought  upon  themselves  by  their  traitorous  hostility.  The 
anger  of  the  king  was  appeased  by  their  individual  ruin;  he  did 
not  desire  to  revenge  himself  upon  their  helpless  families,  nor 


*  Cronica  del  Rey  Santo,  cap.  13. 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNANDO   THE  SAINT.  89 

to  break  down  and  annihilate  a  house  lofty  and  honored  in  the 
traditions  of  Spain.  One  of  the  brothers,  Don  Fernando,  had 
left  a  daughter,  Doha  Sancha  Fernandez  de  Lara;  there  hap- 
pened at  this  time  to  be  in  Spain  a  cousin-german  of  the  king, 
a  prince  of  Portugal,  Don  Fernando  by  name,  who  held  the 
seiloria  of  Serpa.  Between  this  prince  and  Dona  Sanciia  the 
king  effected  a  marriage,  whence  has  sprung  one  of  the  most 
illustrious  branches  of  the  ancient  house  of  Lara.*  The  other 
daughters  of  Don  Fernando  retained  large  possessions  in  Cas- 
tile ;  and  one  of  his  sons  will  be  found  serving  valiantly  under 
the  standard  of  the  king. 

In  the  mean  time  the  truce  with  Aben  Alhamar,  the  king  of 
Granada,  had  greatly  strengthened  the  hands  of  that  monarch. 
He  had  received  accessions  of  troops  from  various  parts,  had 
fortified  his  capital  and  his  frontiers,  and  now  fomented  dis- 
turbances in  the  neighboring  kingdom  of  Murcia— encouraging 
the  refractory  cities  to  persist  in  their  refusal  of  vassalage  — 
hoping  to  annex  that  kingdom  to  his  own  newly  consolidated 
dominions. 

The  Wali  of  Lorca  and  his  partisans,  the  alcaydes  of  Mula 
and  Carthagena,  thus  instigated  by  the  King  of  Granada,  now 
increased  in  turbulence,  and  completely  overawed  the  feeble- 
handed  Aben  Hudiel.  King  Fernando  thought  this  a  good  op- 
portunity to  give  his  son  and  heir  his  first  essay  in  arms.  He 
accordingly  dispatched  the  prince  a  second  time  to  Murcia,  ac- 
companied as  before  by  Don  Pelayo  de  Correa,  the  Grand  Mas- 
ter of  Santiago ;  but  he  sent  him  now  with  a  strong  military 
force,  to  play  the  part  of  a  conqueror.  The  conquest,  as  may 
be  supposed,  was  easy ;  Mula,  Lorca,  and  Carthagena  soon  sub- 
mitted, and  the  whole  kingdom  was  reduced  to  vassalage  — 
Fernando  henceforth  adding  to  his  other  titles  King  of  Murcia. 
"Thus,"  says  Fray  Antonio  Agapida,  ''was  another  precious 
jewel  wrested  from  the  kingdom  of  Antichrist,  and  added  to 
the  crown  of  this  saintly  monarch." 

But  it  was  not  in  Murcia  alone  that  King  Fernando  found 
himself  called  to  contend  with  his  new  adversary  the  King  of 
Granada.  That  able  and  active  monarch,  strengthened  as  has 
been  said  during  the  late  truce,  had  made  bold  forays  in  the 
frontiers  recently  conquered  by  King  Fernando,  and  had  even 
extended  them  to  the  neighborhood  of  Cordova.  In  all  this  he 
had  been  encouraged  by  some  degree  of  negligence  and  inac- 


'Notas  para  la  Vida  dfl  Santo  Key,  p.  554. 


90  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

tion  on  the  part  of  King  Fernando's  brother  Alfonso,  who  had 
been  left  in  charge  of  the  frontier.  The  prince  took  the  field 
against  Aben  Alhamar,  and  fought  hirn  manfully;  but  the 
Moorish  force  was  too  powerful  to  be  withstood,  and  the  prince 
was  defeated. 

Tidings  of  this  was  sent  to  King  Fernando,  and  of  the  great 
danger  of  the  frontier,  as  Aben  Alhamar,  flushed  with  success, 
was  aiming  to  drive  the  Christians  out  of  Andalusia.  King 
Fernando  immediately  set  off  for  the  frontier,  accompanied  by 
the  Queen  Juana.  He  did  not  wait  to  levy  a  powerful  force, 
but  took  with  him  a  small  number— knowing  tbe  loyalty  of  his 
subjects  and  their  belligerent  propensities,  and  that  they  would 
hasten  to  his  standard  the  moment  they  knew  he  was  in  the 
field  and  exposed  to  danger.  His  force  accordingly  increased 
as  he  advanced.  At  Andujar  ho  met  his  brother  Alfonso  with 
the  relics  of  his  lately  defeated  army — all  bravo  and  expert 
soldiers.  He  had  now  a  commanding  force,  and  leaving  the 
queen  with  a  sufficient  guard  at  Andujar,  he  set  off  with  his 
brother  Alfonso  and  Don  Nuno  Gonzalez  de  Lara,  son  of  the 
Count  Gonzalo,  to  scour  the  country  about  Arjona,  Jaen,  and 
Alcandete.  The  Moors  took  refuge  in  their  strong  places, 
whence  they  saw  with  aching  hearts  the  desolation  of  their 
country — olive  plantations,on  fire,  vineyards  laid  waste,  groves 
and  orchards  cut  down,  and  all  the  other  modes  of  ravage 
practised  in  these  unsparing  wars. 

The  King  of  Granada  did  not  venture  to  take  the  field ;  and 
King  Fernando,  meeting  no  enemy  to  contend  with,  while 
ravaging  the  lands  of  Alcandete,  detached  a  part  of  his  force 
under  Don  Rodrigo  Fernandez  de  Castro,  a  son  of  the  brave 
Alvar  Perez  lately  deceased,  and  he  associated  with  him  Nuno 
Gonzalez,  with  orders  to  besiege  Arjona.  This  was  a  place 
dear  to  Aben  Alhamar,  the  King  of  Granada,  being  his  native 
place,  where  he  had  first  tasted  the  sweets  of  power.  Hence  he 
was  commonly  called  the  King  of  Arjona. 

The  people  of  the  place,  though  they  had  quailed  before  King 
Fernando,  despised  his  officers  and  set  them  at  defiance.  The 
king  himself,  however,  made  his  appearance  on  the  following 
day  with  the  remainder  of  his  forces,  whereupon  Arjona  ca- 
pitulated. 

"While  his  troops  were  reposing  from  their  fatigues,  the  king 
made  some  further  ravages,  and  reduced  several  small  towns 
to  obedience.  He  then  sent  his  brother  Don  Alfonso  with  suffi- 
cient forces  to  carry  fire  and  sword  into  the  Vega  of  Granada. 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNANDO   THE  SAINT.  91 

In  the  mean  time  he  returned  to  Andujar  to  the  Queen  Juana. 
He  merely  came,  say  the  old  chroniclers,  for  the  purpose  of 
conducting  her  to  Cordova;  fulfilling,  always,  his  duty  as  a 
cavalier,  without  neglecting  that  of  a  king. 

The  moment  he  had  left  her  in  her  palace  at  Cordova,  he 
hastened  back  to  join  his  brother  in  harassing  the  territories 
of  Granada.  He  came  in  time ;  for  Aben  Alliamar,  enraged  at 
seeing  the  destruction  of  the  Vega,  made  such  a  vigorous  sally, 
that  had  Prince  Alfonso  been  alone  in  command,  he  might 
have  received  a  second  lesson  still  more  disastrous  than  the 
first.  The  presence  of  the  king,  however,  put  new  spirits  and 
valor  into  the  troops ;  the  Moors  were  driven  back  to  the  city, 
and  the  Christians  pursued  them  to  the  very  gates.  As  the 
king  had  not  sufficient  forces  with  him.  to  attempt  the  capture 
of  this  place,  he  contented  himself  with  the  mischief  he  had 
done,  and,  with  some  more  which  he  subsequently  effected,  he 
returned  to  Cordova  to  let  his  troops  rest  from  their  fatigues. 

While  the  king  was  in  this  city,  a  messenger  arrived  from 
his  mother,  the  Queen  Berenguela,  informing  him  of  her  inten- 
tion of  coming  to  pay  him  a  visit.  A  long  time  had  elapsed 
since  they  had  seen  each  other,  and  her  extreme  age  rendered 
her  anxious  to  embrace  her  son.  The  king,  to  prevent  her 
from  taking  so  long  a  journey,  set  off  to  meet  her,  taking  with 
him  his  Queen  Juana.  The  meeting  took  place  in  Pezuelo, 
n^ar  Burgos,*  and  was  affecting  on  both  sides,  for  never  did 
son  and  mother  love  and  honor  each  other  more  truly.  In 
this  interview,  the  queen  represented  her  age  and  increasing 
weakness,  and  her  incapacity  to  cope  with  the  fatigues  of  pub- 
he  affairs,  of  which  she  had  always  shared  the  burden  with 
the  king ;  she  therefore  signified  her  wish  to  retire  to  her  con- 
vent, to  pass  the  remnant  of  her  days  in  holy  repose.  King 
Fernando,  who  had  ever  found  in  his  mother  his  ablest  coun- 
sellor and  best  support,  entreated  her  not  to  leave  his  side  in 
these  arduous  times,  when  the  King  of  Granada  on  one  side, 
and  the  King  of  Seville  on  the  other,  threatened  to  put  all  his 
courage  and  resources  to  the  trial.  A  long  and  earnest,  yet 
tender  and  affectionate,  conversation  succeeded  between  them, 
which  resulted  in  the  queen-mother's  yielding  to  his  solicita- 
tions. The  illustrious  son  and  mother  remained  together  six 
weeks,  enjoying  each  other's  society,  after  which  they  sepa- 

*  Some  chroniclers,  through  mistake,  make  it  Pezuelo,  near  Ciudad  Real,  in  the 
mountains  on  the  confines  of  Granada. 


02  MOOllISU  CHRONICLES. 

rated— the  king  and  queen  for  the  frontier,  and  the  queen- 
mother  for  Toledo.  They  were  never  to  behold  each  other 
again  upon  earth,  for  the  king  never  returned  to  Castile. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

KING  FERNANDO'S  EXPEDITION  TO  ANDALUSIA. — SIEGE  OF  JAEN. 
— SECRET  DEPARTURE  OF  ADEN  ALHAMAR  FOR  THE  CHRISTIAN 
CA.MP.— HE  ACKNOWLEDGES  HIMSELF  THE  VASSAL  OF  THE 
KING,    WHO   ENTERS  JAEN  IN  TRIUMPH. 

It  was  in  the  middle  of  August,  1245,  that  King  Fernando 
set  out  on  his  grand  expedition  to  Andalusia,  whence  he  was 
never  to  return.  All  that  autumn  he  pursued  the  same  de- 
structive course  as  in  his  preceding  campaigns,  laying  waste 
the  country  with  fire  and  sword  in  the  vicinity  of  Jaen  and  to 
Alcala  la  Real.  The  town,  too,  of  Illora,  built  on  a  lofty  rock 
and  fancying  itself  secure,  was  captured  and  given  a  prey  to 
flames,  which  was  as  a  bale-fire  to  the  country.  Thence  he 
descended  into  the  beautifid  Vega  of  Granada,  ravaging  that 
earthly  paradise.  Aben  Alhamar  sallied  forth  from  Granada 
with  what  forces  he  could  collect,  and  a  bloody  battle  ensued 
about  twelve  miles  from  Granada.  A  part  of  the  troops  of 
Aben  Alhamar  were  hasty  levies,  inhabitants  of  the  city,  and 
but  little  accustomed  to  combat ;  they  lost  courage,  gave  way, 
and  threw  the  better  part  of  the  troops  in  disorder ;  a  retreat 
took  place,  which  ended  in  a  headlong  flight,  in  which  there 
was  great  carnage.* 

Content  for  the  present  with  the  ravage  he  had  made,  and 
the  victory  he  had  gained,  King  Fernando  now  drew  off  his 
troops  and  repaired  to  his  frontier  hold  of  Martos,  where  they 
might  rest  after  their  fatigues  in  security. 

Here  he  was  joined  by  Don  Pelayo  Perez  Correa,  the  Grand 
Master  of  Santiago.  This  valiant  cavalier,  who  was  as  sage 
and  shrewd  in  council  as  he  was  adroit  and  daring  in  the  field, 
had  aided  the  youthful  Prince  Alfonso  in  completing  the  tran- 
quillization  of  Muroia,  and,  leaving  him  in  the  quiet  adminis- 
tration of  affairs  in  that  kingdom,  had  since  been  on  a  pious 

*  Conde,  torn.  iii.  c.  5. 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNANDO   THE  SAINT.  93 

and  political  mission  to  tno  court  of  Rome.  He  arrived  most 
opportunely  at  Martos,  to  aid  the  king  with  his  counsels,  for 
there  was  none  hi  whose  wisdom  and  loyalty  the  king  had 
more  confidence. 

The  grand  master  listened  to  all  the  plans  of  the  king  for  the 
humiliation  of  the  haughty  King  of  Granada ;  he  then  gravely 
but  most  respectfully  objected  to  the  course  the  king  was  pur- 
suing. He  held  the  mere  ravaging  the  country  of  little  ulti- 
mate benefit.  It  harassed  and  irritated,  but  did  not  destroy 
the  enemy,  while  it  fatigued  and  demoralized  the  army.  To 
conquer  the  country,  they  must  not  lay  waste  the  field,  but 
take  the  towns;  so  long  as  the  Moors  retained  their  strong- 
holds, so  long  had  they  dominion  over  the  land.  He  advised, 
therefore,  as  a  signal  blow  to  the  power  of  the  Moorish  king, 
the  capture  of  the  city  of  Jaen.  This  was  a  city  of  immense 
strength,  the  bulwark  of  the  kingdom;  it  was  well  supplied 
with  provisions  and  the  munitions  of  war ;  strongly  garrisoned 
and  commanded  by  Abu  Omar,  native  of  Cordova,  a  general 
of  cavalry,  and  one  of  the  bravest  officers  of  Aben  Alhamar. 
King  Fernando  had  already  besieged  it  in  vain,  but  the  reason- 
ing of  the  grand  master  had  either  convinced  his  reason  or 
touched  his  pride.  He  set  himself  down  before  the  walls  of 
Jaen,  declaring  he  would  never  raise  the  siege  until  he  was 
master  of  the  place.  For  a  long  time  the  siege  was  carried  on 
in  the  depth  of  winter,  in  defiance  of  rain  and  tempests.  Aben 
Alhamar  was  in  despair:  he  could  not  relieve  the  place;  he 
could  not  again  venture  on  a  battle  with  the  king  after  his  late 
defeat.  He  saw  that  Jaen  must  fall,  and  feared  it  would  be 
followed  by  the  fall  of  Granada.  He  was  a  man  of  ardent 
spirit  and  quick  and  generous  impulses.  Taking  a  sudden 
resolution,  he  departed  secretly  for  the  Christian  camp,  and 
made  his  way  to  the  presence  of  King  Fernando.  ' '  Behold 
before  you,"  said  he,  "the  King  of  Granada.  Resistance  I 
find  unavailing;  I  come,  trusting  to  your  magnanimity  and 
good  faith,  to  put  myself  under  your  protection  and  acknow- 
ledge myself  your  vassal."  So  saying,  he  knelt  and  kissed  the 
king's  hand  in  token  of  homage. 

"King  Fernando,"  say  the  old  chroniclers,  "was  not  to  be 
outdone  in  generosity.  He  raised  his  late  enemy  from  the 
earth,  embraced  him  as  a  friend,  and  left  him  in  the  sovereignty 
of  his  dominions ;  the  good  king,  however,  was  as  politic  as  he 
was  generous.  He  received  Aben  Alhamar  as  a  vassal ;  con- 
ditioned for  the  delivery  of  Jaen  into  his  hands;  for  the  yearly 


94  MOORISH  CILROXICLES. 

payment  of  one-half  of  his  revenues ;  for  his  attendance  at  the 
cortes  as  one  of  the  nobles  of  the  empire,  and  his  aiding  Castile 
in  war  with  a  certain  number  of  horsemen. " 

In  compliance  with  these  conditions,  Jaen  was  given  up  to 
the  Christian  Icing,  who  entered  it  in  triumph  about  the  end  of 
February.*  His  first  care  was  to  repair  in  grand  procession, 
bearing  the  holy  cross,  to  the  principal  mosque,  which  was 
purified  and  sanctified  by  the  Bishop  of  Cordova,  and  erected 
into  a  cathedral  and  dedicated  to  the  most  holy  Virgin  Mary. 

He  remained  some  time  in  Jaen,  giving  repose  to  his  troops, 
regulating  the  affairs  of  this  important  place,  disposing  of 
houses  and  estates  among  his  warriors  who  had  most  dis- 
tinguished themselves,  and  amply  rewarding  the  priests  and 
monks  who  had  aided  him  with  their  prayers. 

As  to  Aben  Alhamar,  he  returned  to  Granada,  relieved  from 
apprehension  of  impending  ruin  to  his  kingdom,  but  deeply 
humiliated  at  having  to  come  under  the  yoke  of  vassalngo. 
He  consoled  himself  by  prosecuting  the  arts  of  peace,  improv- 
ing the  condition  of  his  people,  building  hospitals,  founding 
institutions  of  learning,  and  beautifying  his  capital  with  those 
magnificent  edifices  which  remain  the  admiration  of  posterity; 
for  now  it  was  that  he  commenced  to  build  the  Alhambra. 

Notk.— There  is  some  dispute  among  historians  as  to  the  duration  of  the  siege 
and  the  date  of  the  surrender  of  Jaen.  Some  make  the  siege  endure  eight  months, 
from  August  into  the  middle  of  April.  The  authentic  Agapida  adopts  the  opinion 
of  the  author  of  Notas  para  la  Vidn  del  Santo  Ret/,  etc.,  who  makes  the  siege  begin 
on  the  31st  December  and  end  about  the  2Cth  February. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

AXATAF,  KING  OF  SEVILLE,  EXASPERATED  AT  THE  SUBMISSION  OF 
THE  KING  OF  GRANADA,  REJECTS  THE  PROPOSITIONS  OF  KING 
FERDINAND  FOR  A  TRUCE.  —THE  LATTER  IS  ENCOURAGED  BY  A 
VISION  TO  UNDERTAKE  THE  CONQUEST  OF  THE  CITY  OF  SE- 
VILLE.— DEATH  OF  QUEEN  BEREXGUELA.  — A  DIPLOMATIC  MAR- 
RIAGE. 

King  Fernando,  having  reduced  the  fair  kingdom  of  Gra- 
nada to  vassalage,  and  fortified  himself  in  Andalusia  by  the 
possession  of  the  strong  city  of  Jaen,  bethought  him  now  of 

*  Notas  para  la  Vida  del  Santo  Rey,  p.  662. 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNANDO   TEE  SAINT.  95 

returning  to  Castile.  There  was  but  one  Moorish  potentate  in 
Spain  whose  hostilities  he  had  to  fear :  this  was  Axataf,  the 
King  of  Seville.  He  was  the  son  of  Aben  Hud,  and  succeeded 
to  a  portion  of  his  territories.  Warned  by  the  signal  deft  at  of 
his  father  at  Xerez,  he  had  forborne  to  take  the  field  against 
the  Christians,  but  had  spared  no  pains  and  expense  to  put  the 
city  of  Seville  in  the  highest  state  of  defence  ;  strength  en  in  £ 
its  walls  and  towers,  providing  it  with  munitions  of  war  of  all 
kinds,  and  exercising  Ins  people  continually  in  the  use  of  arms. 
King  Fernando  was  loth  to  leave  this  great  frontier  in  its 
present  unsettled  state,  with  such  a  powerful  enemy  in  the 
neighborhood,  who  might  take  advantage  of  his  absence  to 
break  into  open  hostility ;  still  it  was  his  policy  to  let  the  sword 
rest  in  the  sheath  until  he  had  completely  secured  his  new  pos- 
sessions. He  sought,  therefore,  to  make  a  truce  with  King 
Axataf,  and,  to  enforce  his  propositions,  it  is  said  he  appeared 
with  his  army  before  Seville  in  Mav,  1246.*  His  pronositioi 
were  rejected,  as  it  were,  at  the  very  gate.  It  appea^s^fcftat 
the  King  of  Seville  was  exasperated  rather  than  dismayed  by 
the  submission  of  the  King  of  Granada.  He  felt  that  on  him- 
self depended  the  last  hope  of  Islamism  in  Spain  ;  he  trusted 
on  aid  from  the  coast  of  Barbary,  with  which  his  capital  had 
ready  communication  by  water  ;  and  he  resolved  to  make  a 
bold  stand  iu  the  cause  of  his  faith. 

Kiug  Fernando  retired  indignant  from  before  Seville,  and 
repaired  to  Cordova,  with  the  pious  determination  to  punish 
the  obstinacy  and  humble  the  pride  of  the  infidel,  by  planting 
the  standard  of  the  cross  on  the  walls  of  his  capital.  Seville 
once  in  his  power,  the  rest  of  Andalusia  would  soon  follow, 
and  then  his  triumph  over  the  sect  of  Mahomet  would  be 
complete.  Other  reasons  may  have  concurred  to  make  him 
covet  the  conquest  of  Seville.  It  was  a  city  of  great  splendor 
and  wealth,  situated  in  the  midst  of  a  fertile  country,  in  a 
genial  climate,  under  a  benignant  sky  ;  and  having  by  its  river, 
the  Guadalquivir,  an  open  highway  for  commerce,  it  was  the 
metropolis  of  ail  Morisrna — a  world  of  wealth  and  delight 
within  itself. 

These  were  sufficient  reasons  for  aiming  at  the  conquest  of 
this  famous  citv,  but  these  were  not  sufficient  to  satisfy  the 
holy  friars  who  have  written  the  history  of  this  monarch,  and 
who  have  found  a  reason  more  befitting  his  character  of  saint. 

*  Notas  para  la  Vida  del  Santo  Rey,  p.  572. 


96  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

Accordingly  we  are  told,  by  the  worthy  Fray  Antonio  Agapida, 
that  at  a  time  when  the  king  was  in  deep  affliction  for  the 
death  of  his  mother,  the  Queen  Berenguela,  and  was  praying 
with  great  fervor,  there  appeared  before  him  Saint  Isidro,  the 
great  Apostle  of  Spain,  who  had  been  Archbishop  of  Seville  in 
old  times,  before  the  perdition  of  Spain  by  the  Moors.  As  the 
monarch  gazed  in  reverend  wonder  at  the  vision,  the  saint  laid 
on  him  a  solemn  injunction  to  rescue  from  the  empire  of  Ma- 
homet his  city  of  Seville.  "Que  a  si  la  llamo  por  suya  en  la 
patria,  suya  en  la  silla,  y  suya  en  la  proteccion."  "Such," 
says  Agapida,  ' '  was  the  true  reason  why  this  pious  king  un- 
dertook the  conquest  of  Seville;"  and  in  this  assertion  ho  is 
supported  by  many  Spanish  chroniclers ;  and  by  the  traditions 
of  the  Church — the  vision  of  San  Isidro  being  read  to  this 
day  among  its  services.* 

The  death  of  Queen  Berenguela,  to  which  we  have  just  ad- 
verted, happened  some  months  after  the  conquest  of  Jaen  and 
submission  of  Granada.  The  grief  of  the  king  on  hearing  the 
tidings,  we  are  told,  was  past  description.  For  a  time  it  quite 
overwhelmed  him.  "  Nor  is  it  much  to  be  marvelled  at,"  says 
an  old  chronicler ;  "for  never  did  monarch  lose  a  mother  so 
noble  and  magnanimous  in  all  her  actions.  She  was  indeed  ac- 
complished in  all  things,  an  example  of  every  virtue,  the  mirror 
of  Castile  and  Leon  and  all  Spain,  by  whose  counsel  and  wisdom 
the  affairs  of  many  kingdoms  were  governed.  This  noble 
queen,"  continues  the  chronicler,  "was  deplored  in  all  the 
cities,  towns,  and  villages  cf  Castile  and  Leon;  by  all  people, 
great  and  small,  but  especially  by  poor  cavaliers,  to  whom  she 
was  ever  a  benefactress."f 

Another  heavy  loss  to  King  Fernando,  about  this  time,  was 
that  of  the  Archbishop  of  Toledo,  Don  Rodrigo,  the  great  ad- 
viser of  the  king  in  all  his  expeditions,  and  the  prelate  who 
first  preached  the  grand  crusade  in  Spain.  He  lived  a  life  of 
piety,  activity,  and  zeal,  and  died  full  of  years,  of  honors,  and 
of  riches— having  received  princely  estates  and  vast  revenues 
from  the  king  in  rewai'd  of  his  services  in  the  cause. 

These  private  afflictions  for  a  time  occupied  the  royal  mind ; 
the  king  was  also  a  little  disturbed  by  some-rash  proceedings  of 
his  son,  the  hereditary  Prince  Alfonso,  who,  being  left  in  the 
government  of  Murcia,  took  a  notion  of  imitating  his  father 

*  Rodriguez.  Memorias  del  Santo  Key.  c.  lviii. 
t  Cronicadel  Rey  Don  Fernando,  c.  slii. 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNANDO   THE  SAINT.  97 

in  his  conquests,  and  made  an  inroad  into  the  Moorish  king- 
dom of  Valencia,  at  that  time  in  a  state  of  confusion.  Tins 
brought  on  a  collision  with  King  Jayme  of  Aragon,  surnained 
the  Conqueror,  who  had  laid  his  hand  upon  all  Valencia,  as 
his  by  right  of  arms.  There  was  thus  danger  of  a  rupture 
with  Aragon,  and  of  King  Fernando  having  an  enemy  on  his 
back,  while  busied  in  his  wars  in  Andalusia.  Fortunately 
King  Jayme  had  a  fair  daughter,  the  Princess  Violante ;  and 
the  grave  diplomatists  of  the  two  courts  determined  that  it 
were  better  the  two  children  should  marry,  than  the  two 
fathers  should  fight.  To  this  arrangement  King  Fernando 
and  King  Jajrme  gladly  assented.  They  were  both  of  the 
same  faith ;  both  proud  of  the  name  of  Christian ;  both  zealous 
in  driving  Mahometanism  out  of  Spain,  and  in  augmenting 
their  empires  with  its  spoils.  The  marriage  was  accordingly 
solemnized  in  Valladolid  in  the  month  of  November  in  this 
same  year;  and  now  the  saintly  King  Fernando  turned  his 
whole  energies  to  this  great  and  crowning  achievement,  the 
conquest  of  Seville,  the  emporium  of  Mahometanism  in  Spain. 
Foreseeing,  as  long  as  the  mouth  of  the  Guadalquivir  was 
open,  the  city  could  receive  reinforcements  and  supplies  from 
Africa,  the  king  held  consultations  with  a  wealthy  man  of 
Burgos,  Ramon  Bonifaz,  or  Boniface,  by  name — some  say  a 
native  of  France — one  well  experienced  in  maritime  affairs, 
and  capable  of  fitting  out  and  managing  a  fleet.  This  man  ho 
constituted  his  admiral,  and  sent  him  to  Biscay  to  provide  and 
arm  a  fleet  of  ships  and  galleys,  with  which  to  attack  Seville 
by  water,  while  the  king  should  invest  it  by  land. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

INVESTMENT  OF  SEVILLE.— ALL  SPAIN  AROUSED  TO  ARMS. — SUR- 
RENDER OF  ALCALA  DEL  RIO. — THE  FLEET  OF  ADMIRAL  RAMON 
BONIFAZ  ADVANCES  UP  THE  QUADALQUIVIR. — DON  PELAVO 
CORREA,  MASTER  OF  SANTIAGO. —HIS  VALOROUS  DEEDS  AND 
THE  MIRACLES  WROUGHT  IN  HIS  BEHALF. 

When  it  was  bruited  about  that  King  Fernando  the  Saint 
intended  to  besiege  the  great  city  of  Seville,  all  Spain  was 
roused  to  arms.     The  masters  of  the  various  military  and 


98  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

religious  orders,  the  rieos  hombres,  the  princes,  cavaliers, 
hidalgos,  and  every  one  of  Castile  and  Leon  capable  of  bearing 
arms,  prepared  to  take  the  field.  Many  of  the  nobility  of 
Catalonia  and  Portugal  repaired  to  the  standard  of  the  king, 
as  did  other  cavaliers  of  worth  and  prowess  from  lands  far 
beyond  the  Pyrenees. 

Prelates,  priests,  and  monks  likewise  thronged  to  the  army 
— some  to  take  care  of  the  souls  of  those  who  hazarded  their 
lives  in  this  holy  enterprise,  others  with  a  zealous  determina- 
tion to  grasp  buckler  and  lance,  and  battle  Avith  the  arm  of 
flesh  against  the  enemies  of  God  and  the  Church. 

At  the  opening  of  spring  the  assembled  host  issued  forth  in 
shining  array  from  the  gates  of  Cordova.  After  having  gained 
possession  of  Carmona,  and  Lora,  and  Alcolea,  and  of  other 
neighboring  places— some  by  voluntary  surrender,  others  by 
force  of  arms -the  king  crossed  the  Guadalquivir,  with  great 
difficulty  and  peril,  and  made  himself  master  of  several  of  the 
most  important  posts  in  the  neighborhood  of  Seville.  Among 
these  was  Alcala  del  Rio.  a  place  of  great  consequence,  through 
which  passed  all  the  succors  from  the  mountains  to  the  city. 
This  place  was  bravely  defended  by  Axataf  in  person,  the 
commander  of  Seville.  He  remained  in  Alcala  with  three 
hundred  Moorish  cavaliers,  making  frequent  sallies  upon  the 
Christians,  and  effecting  great  slaughter.  At  length  he  beheld 
all  the  country  around  laid  waste,  the  grain  burnt  or  trampled 
clown,  the  vineyards  torn  up,  the  cattle  driven  away  and  the 
villages  consumed;  so  that  nothing  remained  to  give  suste- 
nance to  the  garrison  or  the  inhabitants.  Not  daring  to  linger 
there  any  longer,  he  departed  secretly  in  the  night  and  retired 
to  Seville,  and  the  town  surrendered  to  King  Fernando. 

While  the  king  was  putting  Alcala  del  Rio  in  a  state  of  de- 
fence, Admiral  Ramon  Bonifaz  arrived  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Guadalquivir  with  a  fleet  of  thirteen  large  ships,  and  several 
small  vessels  and  galleys.  While  he  was  yet  hovering  about 
the  land,  he  heard  of  the  approach  of  a  great  force  of  ships 
f<  »r  Tangier,  Couta,  and  Seville,  and  of  an  army  to  assail  him 
from  the  shores.  In  this  peril  he  sent  in  all  speed  for  succor 
to  the  king ;  when  it  reached  the  sea-coast  the  enemy  had  not 
yet  appeared;  wherefore,  thinking  it  a  false  alarm,  the  rein- 
forcement returned  to  the  camp.  Scarcely,  however,  had  it 
departed  when  the  Africans  came  swarming  over  the  sea,  and 
fell  upon  Ramon  Bonifaz  with  a  greatly  superior  force.  The 
admiral,  in  no  way  dismayed,  defended  himself  vigorously— 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNANDO   THE  SAINT.  99 

sunk  several  of  the  enemy,  took  a  few  prizes,  and  put  the 
rest  to  flight,  remaining  master  of  the  river.  The  king  had 
heard  of  the  peril  of  the  fleet,  and,  crossing  the  ford  of  the 
river,  had  hastened  to  its  aid;  hut  when  he  came  to  the  sea- 
coast,  he  found  it  victorious,  at  which  he  was  greatly  re- 
joiced, and  commanded  that  it  should  advance  higher  up  the 
river. 

It  was  on  the  twentieth  of  the  month  of  August  that  King 
Fernando  began  formally  the  siege  of  Seville,  having  en- 
camped his  troops,  small  in  number,  but  of  stout  hearts  and 
valiant  hands,  near  to  the  city  on  the  banks  of  the  river.  From 
hence  Don  Pelayo  Correa,  the  valiant  Master  of  Santiago, 
with  two  hundred  and  sixty  horsemen,  many  of  whom  were 
warlike  friars,  attempted  to  cross  the  river  at  the  ford  below 
Aznal  Farache.  Upon  this,  Aben  Amaken,  Moorish  king  of 
Niebla,  sallied  forth  with  a  great  host  to  defend  the  pass,  and 
the  cavaliers  were  exposed  to  imminent  peril,  until  the  king 
sent  one  hundred  cavaliers  to  their  aid,  led  on  by  Eodrigo 
Flores  and  Alonzo  Tellez  and  Fernan  Diahez. 

Thus  reinforced,  the  Master  of  Santiago  scoured  the  opposite 
side  of  the  river,  and  with  his  little  army  of  %scarce  four  hun- 
dred horsemen,  mingled  monks  and  soldiers,  spread  dismay 
throughout  the  country.  They  attacked  the  town  of  Gelbes, 
and,  after  a  desperate  combat,  entered  it,  sword  in  hand,  slay- 
ing or  capturing  the  Moors,  and  making  rich  booty.  They 
made  repeated  assaults  upon  the  castle  of  Triana,  and  had 
bloody  combats  with  its  garrison,  but  could  not  take  the  place. 
This  hardy  band  of  cavaliers  had  pitched  their  tents  and  formed 
their  little  camp  on  the  banks  of  the  river,  below  the  castle  of 
Aznal  Farache.  This  fortress  was  situated  on  an  eminence 
above  the  river,  and  its  massive  ruins,  remaining  at  the  pres- 
ent day,  attest  its  formidable  strength. 

When  the  Moors  from  the  castle  towers  looked  down  upon 
this  little  camp  of  Christian  cavaliers,  and  saw  them  sallying 
forth  and  careering  about  the  country,  and  returning  in  the 
evenings  with  cavalcades  of  sheep  and  cattle,  and  mules  laden 
with  spoil,  and  long  trains  of  captives,  they  were  exceedingly 
wrotb,  and  they  kept  a  watch  xipon  them,  and  sallied  forth 
every  day  to  fight  with  them,  and  to  intercept  stragglers  from 
their  camp,  and  to  carry  off  their  horses.  Then  the  cavaliers 
concer-ted  together,  and  they  lay  in  ambush  one  day  in  the 
road  by  which  the  Moors  were  accustomed  to  sally  forth,  and 
when  the  Moors  had  partly  passed  their  ambush,  they  rushed 


100  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

forth  and  fell  upon  them,  and  killed  and  captured  above  three 
hundred,  and  pursued  the  remainder  to  the  very  gates  of  the 
castle.  From  that  time  the  Moors  were  so  disheartened  that 
they  made  no  further  sallies. 

Shortly  after,  the  Master  of  Santiago  receiving  secret  intelli 
gence  that  a  Moorish  sea-captain  had  passed  from  Seville  to 
Triana,  on  his  way  to  succor  the  castle  of  Aznal  Farache, 
placed  himself,  with  a  number  of  chosen  cavaliers,  in  ambus- 
cade at  a  pass  by  which  the  Moors  were  expected  to  come. 
After  waiting  a  long  time,  their  scouts  brought  word  that  the 
Moors  had  taken  another  road,  and  were  nearly  at  the  foot  of 
the  bill  on  which  stood  the  castle.  "  Cavaliers,"  cried  the  mas- 
ter, "it  is  not  too  late;  let  us  first  use  our  spurs  and  then  our 
weapons,  and  if  our  steeds  prove  good,  the  day  will  yet  be 
ours."  So  saying,  he  put  spurs  to  his  horse,  and  the  rest  fol- 
lowing his  example,  they  soon  came  in  sight  of  the  Moors. 
The  latter,  seeing  the  Christians  coming  after  them  full  speed, 
urged  their  horses  up  the  hill  toward  the  castle,  but  the  Chris- 
tians overtook  them  and  slew  seven  of  these  in  the  rear.  In 
the  skirmish,  Garci  Perez  sti'uck  the  Moorish  captain  from  his 
horse  with  a  blow  of  his  lance.  The  Christians  rushed  forward 
to  take  him  prisoner.  On  seeing  this,  the  Moors  turned  back, 
threw  themselves  between  their  commander  and  his  assailants, 
and  kept  the  latter  in  check  while  he  was  conveyed  into  the 
castle.  Several  of  them  fell  covered  with  wounds ;  the  residue, 
seeing  their  chieftain  safe,  turned  their  reins  and  galloped  for 
the  castle,  just  entering  in  time  to  have  the  gates  closed  upon 
their  pursuers. 

Time  and  space  permit  not  to  recount  the  many  other  valor- 
ous deeds  of  Don  Pel  ay  o  Correa,  the  good  Master  of  Santiago, 
and  his  band  of  cavaliers  and  monks.  His  little  camp  became 
a  terror  to  the  neighborhood,  and  checked  the  sallies  of  the 
Moorish  mountaineers  from  the  Sierra  Morena.  In  one  of  his 
enterprises  he  gained  a  signal  advantage  over  the  foe,  but  the 
approach  of  night  threatened  to  defraud  him  of  his  victory. 
Then  the  pious  warrior  lifted  up  his  voice  and  supplicated  the 
Virgin  Mary  in  those  celebrated  words,  "Santa  Maria  deten 
tu  dia"  (Holy  Mary,  detain  thy  day),  for  it  was  one  of  the  days 
consecrated  to  the  Virgin.  The  blessed  Virgin  listened  to  the 
prayer  of  her  valiant  votary ;  the  daylight  continued  in  a  su- 
pernatural manner,  until  the  victory  of  the  good  Master  of 
Santiago  was  completed.     In  honor  of  this  signal  favor,  he 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNANDO   THE  SAINT.  101 

afterward  erected  a  temple  to  the  Virgin  by  the  name  of  Nues- 
tra  Senora  de  Tentudia.* 

If  any  one  shoidd  doubt  this  miracle,  wrought  in  favor  of 
this  pious  warrior  and  his  soldiers  of  the  cowl,  it  may  be  suf- 
ficient to  relate  another,  which  immediately  succeeded,  and 
which  shows  how  peculiarly  he  was  under  the  favor  of  Hea- 
ven. After  the  battle  was  over,  his  followers  were  ready  to 
faint  with  thirst,  and  could  find  no  stream  or  fountain ;  and 
when  the  good  master  saw  the  distress  of  his  soldiers,  his  heart 
was  touched  with  compassion,  and,  bethinking  himself  of  the 
miracle  performed  by  Moses,  in  an  impulse  of  holy  zeal  and 
confidence,  and  in  the  name  of  the  blessed  Virgin,  he  struck 
a  dry  and  barren  rock  with  his  lance,  and  instantly  there 
gushed  forth  a  fountain  of  water,  at  which  all  his  Christian 
soldiery  drank  and  were  refreshed,  t  So  much  at  present  for 
the  good  Master  of  Santiago,  Don  Pelayo  Correa. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


KING    FERNANDO    CHANGES    HIS    CAMP. — GARCI    PEREZ    AND    THE 

SEVEN  MOORS. 

King  Fernando  the  Saint  soon  found  his  encampment  on 
the  banks  of  the  Guadalquivir  too  much  exposed  to  the  sudden 
sallies  and  assaults  of  the  Moors.  As  the  land  was  level,  they 
easily  scoured  the  fields,  carried  off  horses  and  stragglers  from 
the  camp,  and  kept  it  in  continual  alarm.  He  drew  off,  there- 
fore, to  a  securer  place,  called  Tablada,  the  same  where  at 
present  is  situated  the  hermitage  of  Nuestra  Seilora  de  el 
Balme.  Here  he  had  a  profound  ditch  digged  all  round  the 
camp,  to  shut  up  the  passes  from  the  Moorish  cavalry.  He 
appointed  patrols  of  horsemen  also,  completely  armed,  who 
continually  made  the  rounds  of  the  camp,  in  successive  bands, 
at  all  hours  of  the  day  and  night.  \  In  a  little  while  his  army 
was  increased  by  the  arrival  of  troops  from  all  Darts — nobles, 

*  Zuniga:  Annales  de  Sevilla,  L.  1. 

t  Jacob  Paranes:  Lib.  de  los  Maestros  de  St.  Iago,     Cronica  Gotica,  T.  3,  §  siii. 
Zuniga:  Annales  de  Sevilla. 
X  Cronica  Gotica,  T.  3,  §  viii. 


102  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

cavaliers,  and  rich  men,  with,  their  retainers — nor  were  their 
wanting  holy  prelates,  who  assumed  the  warrior,  and  brought 
large  squadrons  of  well-armed  vassals  to  the  army.  Merchants 
and  artificers  now  daily  arrived,  and  wandering  minstrels, 
and  people  of  all  sorts,  and  the  camp  appeared  like  a  warlike 
city,  where  rich  and  sumptuous  merchandise  was  mingled 
with  the  splendor  of  arms ;  and  the  various  colors  of  the  tents 
and  pavilions,  and  the  fluttering  standards  and  pennons  bear- 
ing the  painted  devices  of  the  proudest  houses  of  Spain,  were 
gay  and  glorious  to  behold. 

When  the  king  had  established  the  camp  in  Tablada  he  or- 
dered that  every  day  the  foragers  should  sally  forth  in  search 
of  provisions  and  provender,  guarded  by  strong  bodies  of 
troops.  The  various  chiefs  of  the  army  took  turns  to  com- 
mand the  guard  who  escorted  the  foragers.  One  day  it  was 
the  turn  of  Garci  Perez,  the  same  cavalier  who  had  killed  the 
king  of  the  Azules.  He  was  a  hardy,  iron  warrior,  seasoned  and 
scarred  in  warfare,  and  renowned  among  both  Moors  and  Chris- 
tians for  his  great  prowess,  his  daring  courage,  and  his  coolness 
in  the  midst  of  danger.  Garci  Perez  had  lingered  in  the  camp 
until  some  time  after  the  foragers  had  departed,  who  were 
already  out  of  sight.  He  at  length  set  out  to  join  them,  ac- 
companied by  another  cavalier.  They  had  not  proceeded  far 
before  they  perceived  seven  Moorish  genetes,  or  light-horse- 
men, directly  in  their  road.  When  the  companion  of  Garci 
Perez  beheld  such  a  formidable  array  of  foes,  he  paused  and 
said :  ' '  Seiior  Perez,  let  us  return ;  the  Moors  are  seven  and  we 
are  but  two,  and  there  is  no  law  in  the  duello  which  obliges  us 
to  make  front  against  such  fearful  odds." 

To  this  Garci  Perez  replied:  "Sefior,  forward,  always  for- 
ward; let  us  continue  on  our  road;  those  Moors  wdl  never 
wait  for  us."  The  other  cavalier,  however,  exclaimed  against 
such  rashness,  and  turning  the  reins  of  his  horse,  returned  as 
privately  as  possible  to  the  camp,  and  hastened  to  his  tent. 

All  this  happened  within  sight  of  the  camp.  The  king  was 
at  the  door  of  his  royal  tent,  which  stood  on  a  rising  ground 
and  overlooked  the  place  where  this  occurred.  When  the  king 
saw  one  cavalier  return  and  the  other  continue,  notwithstand- 
ing that  there  were  seven  Moors  in  the  road,  he  ordered  that 
some  horsemen  should  ride  forth  to  his  aid. 

Upon  this  Don  Lorenzo  Xuarez,  who  was  with  the  king  and 
had  seen  Garci  Perez  sally  forth  from  the  camp,  said:  "  Your 
majesty  may  leave  that  cavalier  to  himself;  that  is  Garci 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNANDO   THE  SAINT.  103 

Perez,  and  he  has  no  need  of  aid  against  seven  Moors.  If  the 
Moors  know  him  they  will  not  meddle  with  him ;  and  if  they 
do,  your  majesty  will  see  what  kind  of  a  cavalier  he  is." 

They  continued  to  watch  the  cavalier,  who  rode  on  tran- 
quilly as  if  in  no  apprehension.  When  he  drew  nigh  to  the 
Moors,  who  were  drawn  up  on  each  side  of  the  road,  he  took 
his  arms  from  his  squire  and  ordered  him  not  to  separate  from 
him.  As  he  was  lacing  his  morion,  an  embroidered  cap  which 
he  wore  on  his  head  fell  to  the  ground  without  his  perceiving 
it.  Having  ]aced  the  capellina,  he  continued  on  his  way,  and 
his  squire  after  him.  When  the  Moors  saw  him  near  by  they 
knew  by  his  arms  that  it  was  Garci  Perez,  and  bethinking 
them  of  his  great  renown  for  terrible  deeds  in  arms,  they  did 
not  dare  to  attack  him,  but  went  along  the  road  even  with 
him,  he  on  one  side,  they  on  the  other,  making  menaces. 

Garci  Perez  went  on  his  road  with  great  serenity,  without 
making  any  movement.  When  the  Moors  saw  that  he  heeded 
not  their  menaces,  they  turned  round  and  went  back  to  about 
the  place  where  he  dropped  his  cap. 

Having  arrived  at  some  distance  from  the  Moors,  he  took  off 
his  arms  to  return  them  to  his  squire,  and  uulacing  the  capel- 
lina, found  that  the  cap  was  wanting.  He  asked  the  squire 
for  it,  but  the  latter  knew  nothing  about  it.  Seeing  that  it 
had  fallen,  he  again  demanded  his  arms  of  the  squire  and  re- 
turned in  search  of  it,  telling  his  squire  to  keep  close  behind 
him  and  look  out  well  for  it.  The  squire  remonstrated. 
"What,  sehor,"  said  he,  ''will  you  return  and  place  yourself 
in  such  great  peril  for  a  mere  capa?  Have  you  not  already 
done  enough  for  your  honor,  in  passing  so  daringly  by  seven 
Moors,  and  have  you  not  been  singularly  favored  by  fortune 
in  escaping  unhurt,  and  do  you  seek  again  to  tempt  fortune 
for  a  cap?" 

"Say  no  more,"  replied  Garci  Perez;  "  that  cap  was  worked 
for  me  by  a  fair  lady ;  I  hold  it  of  great  value.  Besides,  dost 
thou  not  see  that  I  have  not  a  head  to  be  without  a  cap?"  allud- 
ing to  the  baldness  of  his  head,  which  had  no  hair  m  front. 
So  saying,  he  tranquilly  returned  toward  the  Moors.  When 
Don  Lorenzo  Xuarez  saw  this,  he  said  to  the  king:  "  Behold! 
your  majesty,  how  Garci  Perez  turns  upon  the  Moors ;  since 
they  will  not  make  an  attack,  he  means  to  attack  them.  Now 
your  majesty  will  see  the  noble  valor  of  this  cavalier,  if  the 
Moors  dare  to  await  him."  When  the  Moors  beheld  Garci 
Perez  approaching  they  thought  he  meant  to  assault  them, 


104  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

and  drew  off,  not  daring  to  encounter  him.  When  Don  Lo. 
renzo  saw  this  he  exclaimed : 

"Behold!  your  majesty,  the  truth  of  what  I  told  you. 
These  Moors  dare  not  wait  for  him.  I  knew  well  the  vaior  of 
Garci  Perez,  and  it  appears  the  Moors  are  aware  of  it  like- 
wise." 

In  the  mean  time  Garci  Perez  came  to  the  place  where  the 
capa  had  fallen,  and  beheld  it  upon  the  earth.  Then  he  ordered 
his  squire  to  dismount  and  pick  it  up,  and  putting  it  deliber- 
erately  on  his  head,  he  continued  on  his  way  to  the  foragers. 

When  he  returned  to  the  camp  from  guarding  the  foragers, 
Don  Lorenzo  asked  him,  in  presence  of  the  king,  who  was 
the  cavalier  who  had  set  out  with  him  from  the  camp,  but  had 
turned  back  on  sight  of  the  Moors ;  he  replied  that  he  did  not 
know  him,  and  he  was  confused,  for  he  perceived  that  the 
king  had  witnessed  what  had  passed,  and  he  was  so  modest 
withal,  that  he  was  ever  embarrassed  when  his  deeds  were 
praised  in  his  presence. 

Don  Lorenzo  repeatedly  asked  him  who  was  the  recreant 
cavalier,  but  he  always  replied  that  he  did  not  know,  although 
he  knew  full  well  and  saw  him  daily  in  the  camp.  But  he  was 
too  generous  to  say  anything  that  should  take  away  the  fame 
of  another,  and  he  charged  his  squire  that  never,  by  word  or 
look,  he  should  betray  the  secret;  so  that,  though  inquiries 
were  often  made,  the  name  of  that  cavalier  was  never  dis- 
covered. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


OF  TIIE  RAFT  BUILT  BY  THE  MOORS,  AND  HOW  IT  WAS  BOARDED 
BY  ADMIRAL  BONIFAZ. — DESTRUCTION  OF  THE  MOORISH  FLEET. 
—SUCCOR  FROM  AFRICA. 

While  the  army  of  King  Fernando  the  Saint  harassed  the 
city  by  land  and  cut  off  its  supplies,  the  bold  Bonifaz,  with  his 
fleet,  shut  up  the  river,  prevented  all  succor  from  Africa,  and 
menaced  to  attack  the  bridge  between  Triana  and  Seville,  by 
which  the  city  derived  its  sustenance  from  the  opposite  coun- 
try. The  Moors  saw  their  peril.  If  this  pass  were  destroyed, 
famine  must  be  the  consequence,  and  the  multitude  of  their 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNANDO   THE  SAINT.  105 

soldiers,  on  which  at  present  they  relied  for  safety,  would  then 
become  the  cause  of  their  destruction. 

So  the  Moors  devised  a  machine  by  which  they  hoped  to 
sweep  the  river  and  involve  the  invading  fleet  in  ruin.  They 
made  a  raft  so  wide  that  it  reached  from  one  bank  to  the  other, 
and  they  placed  all  around  it  pots  and  vessels  filled  with  resin, 
pitch,  tar,  and  other  combustibles,  forming  what  is  called 
Greek  fire,  and  upon  it  was  a  great  number  of  armed  men;  and 
on  each  shore— from  the  castle  of  Triana  on  the  one  side,  and 
from  the  city  on  the  other— saUied  forth  legions  of  troops,  to 
advance  at  the  same  time  with  the  raft.  The  raft  was  preceded 
by  several  vessels  well  armed,  to  attack  the  Christian  ships, 
while  the  soldiers  on  the  raft  should  hurl  on  board  their  pots  of 
fire;  and  at  length,  setting  all  the  combustibles  in  a  blaze, 
should  send  the  raft  flaming  into  the  midst  of  the  hostile  fleet, 
and  wrap  it  in  one  general  conflagration. 

When  everything  was  prepared,  the  Moors  set  off-  by  land 
and  water,  confident  of  success.  But  they  proceeded  in  a  wild, 
irregular  manner,  shouting  and  sounding  drums  and  trumpets, 
and  began  to  attack  the  Christian  ships  fiercely,  but  without 
concert,  hurling  their  pots  of  fire  from  a  distance,  filling  the  air 
with  smoke,  but  falling  short  of  their  enemy.  The  tumultuous 
uproar  of  their  preparations  had  put  all  the  Christians  on  their 
guard.  The  bold  Bonifaz  waited  not  to  be  assailed ;  he  boarded 
the  raft,  attacked  vigorously  its  defenders,  put  many  of  them 
to  the  sword,  and  drove  the  rest  into  the  water,  and  succeeded 
in  extinguishing  the  Greek  fire.  He  then  encountered  the  ships 
of  war,  grapplmg  them  and  fighting  hand  to  hand  from  ship  to 
ship.  The  action  was  furious  and  bloody,  and  lasted  all  the 
day.  Many  were  cut  down  in  flight,  many  fell  into  the  water, 
and  many  in  despair  threw  themselves  in  and  were  drowned. 

The  battle  had  raged  no  less  fiercely  upon  the  land.  On  the 
side  of  Seville,  the  troops  had  issued  from  the  camp  of  King 
Fernando,  while  on  the  opposite  shore  the  brave  Master  of  San- 
tiago, Don  Pelayo  Perez  Correa,  with  his  warriors  and  fighting 
friars,  had  made  sharp  work  with  the  enemy.  In  this  way  a 
triple  battle  was  carried  on;  there  was  the  rush  of  squadrons, 
the  clash  of  arms,  and  the  din  of  drums  and  trumpets  on  either 
bank,  while  the  river  was  covered  with  vessels,  tearing  each 
other  to  pieces  as  it  were,  their  crews  fighting  in  the  midst  of 
flames  and  smoke,  the  waves  red  with  blood  and  filled  with  the 
bodies  of  the  slain.  At  length  the  Christians  were  victorious; 
most  of  the  enemy's  vessels  were  taken  or  destroyed,  and  on 


106  MOORISH   CHRONICLES. 

either  shore  the  Moors,  broken  and  discomfited,  fled — those  on 
the  one  side  for  the  gates  of  Seville,  and  those  on  the  other  for 
the  castle  of  Triana — pursued  with  great  slaughter  by  the 
victors. 

Notwithstanding  the  great  destruction  of  their  fleet,  the 
Moors  soon  renewed  their  attempts  upon  the  ships  of  Ramon 
Bonifaz,  for  they  knew  that  the  salvation  of  the  city  required 
the  freedom  of  the  river.  Succor  arrived  from  Africa,  oi^hips, 
with  troops  and  provisions ;  they  rebuilt  the  fire-ships  which 
had  been  destroyed,  and  incessant  combats,  feints,  and  strata- 
gems took  place  daily,  both  on  land  and  water.  The  admiral 
stood  in  great  dread  of  the  Greek  fire  used  by  the  Moors.  He 
caused  large  stakes  of  wood  to  be  placed  in  the  river,  to  pre- 
vent the  passage  of  the  fire-ships.  This  for  some  time  was  of 
avail ;  but  the  Moors,  watching  an  opportunity  when  the  senti- 
nels were  asleep,  came  and  threw  cables  round  the  stakes,  and 
fastening  the  other  ends  to  their  vessels,  made  all  sail,  and,  by 
the  help  of  wind  and  oars,  tore  away  the  stakes  and  carried 
them  off  with  shouts  of  triumph.  The  clamorous  exultation  of 
the  Moors  betrayed  them.  The  Admiral  Bonifaz  was  aroused. 
With  a  few  of  the  lightest  of  his  vessels  he  immediately  pur- 
sued the  enemy.  He  came  upon  them  so  suddenly  that  they 
were  too  much  bewildered  either  to  fight  or  fly.  Some  threw 
themselves  into  the  waves  in  affright;  others  attempted  to 
make  resistance  and  were  cut  down.  The  admiral  took  four 
barks  laden  with  arms  and  provisions,  and  with  these  returned 
in  triumph  to  his  fleet.* 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


OF  THE  STOUT  PRIOR,  FERRAN  RUYZ,  AND  HOW  HE  RESCUED  HIS 
CATTLE  FROM  THE  MOORS. —FURTHER  ENTERPRISES  OF  THE 
PRIOR,    AND  OF  THE   AMBUSCADE  INTO  WHICH  HE  FELL. 

It  happened  one  day  that  a  great  part  of  the  cavaliers  of  the 
army  were  absent,  some  making  cavalgadasubout  the  country, 
others  guarding  the  foragers,  and  others  gone  to  receive  the 
Prince  Alfonso,  who  was  on  hi.3  way  to  the  camp  from  Murcia. 

*  Cronica  Gotica,  L.  3,  §  13.    Cronica  General,  pt.  4.    Cronica  de  Santo  Rey,  c.  55. 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNANDO   THE  SAINT.  107 

At  this  time  ten  Moorish  cavaliers,  of  the  brave  lineage  of  the 
Azules,  finding  the  Christian  camp  but  thinly  peopled,  camo 
prowling  about,  seeking  where  they  might  make  a  bold  inroad. 
As  they  were  on  the  lookout  they  came  to  that  part  of  the 
camp  where  were  the  tents  of  the  stout  Friar  Fcrran  Kuyz, 
prior  of  the  hospital.  The  stout  prior,  and  his  fighting  breth- 
ren, were  as  good  at  foraging  as  fighting.  Around  their  quar- 
ters there  were  several  sleek  cows  grazing,  which  they  had 
carried  off  from  the  Moors.  When  the  Azules  saw  these,  they 
thought  to  make  a  good  prize,  and  to  bear  off  the  prior's  cattle 
as  a  trophy.  Careering  lightly  round,  therefore,  between  the 
cattle  and  the  camp,  they  began  to  drive  them  toward  the  city. 
The  alarm  was  given  in  the  camp,  and  six  sturdy  friars  sallied 
forth,  on  foot,  with  two  cavaliers,  in  pursuit  of  the  marauders. 
The  prior  himself  was  roused  by  the  noise ;  when  he  heard  that 
the  beeves  of  the  Church  were  in  danger  his  ire  was  kindled; 
and  buckling  on  his  armor,  he  mounted  his  steed  and  galloped 
furiously  to  the  aid  of  his  valiant  friars,  and  the  rescue  of  his 
cattle.  The  Moors  attempted  to  urge  on  the  lagging  and  full- 
fed  kine,  but  finding  the  enemy  close  upon  them,  they  were 
obliged  to  abandon  their  spoil  among  the  olive-trees,  and.  to  re- 
treat. The  prior  then  gave  the  cattle  in  charge  to  a  squire,  to 
drive  them  back  to  the  camp.  He  would  have  returned  himself, 
but  his  friars  had  continued  on  for  some  distance.  The  stout 
prior,  therefore,  gave  spurs  to  his  horse  and  galloped  beyond 
them,  to  turn  them  back.  Suddenly  great  shouts  and  cries  arose 
before  and  behind  him,  and  an  ambuscade  of  Moors,  both  horse 
and  foot,  came  rushing  out  of  a  ravine.  The  stout  Piior  of  San 
Juan  saw  that  there  was  no  retreat ;  and  he  disdained  to  render 
himself  a  prisoner.  Commending  himself  to  his  patron  saint, 
and  bracing  his  shield,  ho  charged  bravely  among  the  Moors, 
and  began  to  lay  about  him  with  a  holy  zeal  of  spirit  and  a 
vigorous  arm  of  flesh.  Every  blow  that  he  gave  was  in  the 
name  of  San  Juan,  and  every  bloAv  laid  an  infidel  in  the  dust. 
His  friars,  seeing  the  peril  of  their  leader,  came  running  to  his 
aid,  accompanied  by  a  number  of  cavaliers.  They  rushed 
into  the  fight,  shouting,  "  San  Juan!  San  Juan!"  and  began  to 
deal  such  sturdy  blows  as  savored  more  of  the  camp  than  of 
the  cloister.  Great  and  fierce  was  this  struggle  between  cowl 
and  turban.  The  ground  was  strewn  with  bodies  of  the  in- 
fidels ;  but  the  Christians  were  a  mere  handful  among  a  multi- 
tude. A  burly  friar,  commander  of  Sietefilla,  was  struck  to 
the  earth,  and  his  shaven  head  cleft  by  a  blow  of  a  scimetar; 


108  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

several  squires  and  cavaliers,  to  the  number  of  twenty,  fell 
covered  with  wounds ;  yet  still  the  stout  prior  and  his  brethren 
continued  fighting  with  desperate  fury,  shouting  incessantly, 
"San  Juan!  San  Juan!"  and  dealing  their  blows  with  as  good 
heart  as  they  had  ever  dealt  benedictions  on  their  followers. 

The  noise  of  this  skirmish,  and  holy  shouts  of  the  fighting 
friars,  resounded  tb  rough  the  camp.  The  alarm  was  given, 
"  The  Prior  of  San  Juan  is  surrounded  by  the  enemy !  To  the 
rescue!  to  the  rescue!"  The  whole  Christian  host  was  in 
agitation,  but  none  were  so  alert  as  those  holy  warriors  of  the 
Church,  Don  Garcai,  Bishop  of  Cordova,  and  Don  Sancho, 
Bishop  of  Coria.  Hastily  summoning  their  vassals,  horse  and 
foot,  they  bestrode  their  steeds,  with  cuirass  over  cassock,  and 
lance  instead  of  crosier,  and  set  off  at  full  gallop  to  the  rescue 
of  their  brother  saints.  When  the  Moors  saw  the  warrior 
bishops  and  their  retainers  scouring  to  the  field,  they  gave  over 
the  contest,  and  leaving  the  prior  and  his  companions,  they 
drew  off  toward  the  city.  Their  retreat  was  soon  changed  to  a 
headlong  flight ;  for  the  bishops,  not  content  with  rescuing  the 
prior,  continued  in  pursuit  of  his  assailants.  The  Moorish 
foot-soldiers  were  soon  overtaken  and  either  slaughtered  or 
made  prisoners :  nor  did  the  horsemen  make  good  their  retreat 
into  the  city,  until  the  powerful  arm  of  the  Church  had  visited 
their  rear  with  pious  vengeance.*  Nor  did  the  chastisement 
of  Heaven  end  here.  The  stout  prior  of  the  hospital,  being 
once  'aroused,  was  full  of  ardor  and  enterprise.  Concerting 
with  the  Prince  Don  Enrique,  and  the  Masters  of  Calatrava 
and  Alcantara,  and  the  valiant  Lorenzo  Xuarez,  they  made  a 
sudden  assault  by  night  on  the  suburb  of  Seville  called  Benal- 
jofar,  and  broke  their  way  into  it  with  fire  and  sword.  The 
Moors  were  aroused  from  their  sleep  by  the  flames  of  their 
dwellings  and  the  shouts  of  the  Christians.  There  was  hard 
and  bloody  fighting.  The  prior  of  the  hospital,  with  his  valiant 
friars,  was  in  the  fiercest  of  the  action,  and  their  war-cry  of 
"  San  Juan!  San  Juan!"  was  heard  in  all  parts  of  the  suburb. 
Many  houses  were  burnt,  many  sacked,  many  Moors  slain  or 
taken  prisoners,  and  the  Christian  knights  and  warrior  friars, 
having  gathered  together  a  great  cavalgada  of  the  flocks  and 
herds  which  were  in  the  suburb,  drove  it  off  in  triumph  to  the 
camp,  by  the  light  of  the  blazing  dwellings. 

A  like  inroad  was  made  by  the  prior  and  the  same  cavaliers, 

*  Cronica  General,  pt.  4,  p.  338. 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNANDO   TEE  SAINT.  Kjg 

a  few  nights  afterward,  into  the  suburb  called  Macarena,  winch 
they  laid  waste  in  like  manner,  bearing  off  wealthy  spoils. 
Such  was  the  pious  vengeance  which  the  Moors  brought  upon 
themselves  by  meddling  with  the  kine  of  the  stout  prior  of  the 
hospital. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

BRAVADO  OF  THJ3  THREE  CAVALIERS. — AMBUSH  AT  THE  BRIDGE 
OVER  THE  GUADAYRA. — DESPERATE  VALOR  OF  GARCI  PEREZ. — 
GRAND  ATTEMPT  OF  ADMIRAL  BONIFAZ  ON  THE  BRIDGE  OF 
BOATS.— SEVILLE   DISMEMBERED  FROM  TRIANA. 

Of  all  the  Christian  cavaliers  who  distinguished  themselves 
in  this  renowned  siege  of  Seville,  there  was  none  who  sur- 
passed in  valor  the  bold  Garci  Perez  de  Vargas.  This  hardy 
knight  was  truly  enamored  of  danger,  and  like  a  gamester 
with  his  gold,  he  seemed  to  have  no  pleasure  of  his  life  except 
in  putting  it  in  constant  jeopardy.  One  of  the  greatest  friends 
of  Garci  Perez  was  Don  Lorenzo  Xuarez  Gallinato,  the  same 
who  had  boasted  of  the  valor  of  Garci  Perez  at  the  time  that 
he  exposed  himself  to  be  attacked  by  seven  Moorish  horsemen. 
They  were  not  merely  companions,  but  rivals  in  arms ;  for  in 
this  siege  it  was  the  custom  among  the  Christian  knights  to 
vie  with  each  other  in  acts  of  daring  enterprise. 

One  morning,  as  Garci  Perez,  Don  Lorenzo  Xuarez,  and  a 
third  cavalier,  named  Alfonso  Tello,  were  on  horseback,  patrol- 
ling the  skirts  of  the  camp,  a  friendly  contest  arose  between 
them  as  to  who  was  most  adventurous  in  arms.  To  settle  the 
question,  it  was  determined  to  put  the  proof  to  the  Moors,  by 
going  alone  and  striking  the  points  of  their  lances  in  the  gate 
of  the  city. 

No  sooner  was  tins  mad  bravado  agreed  upon  than  they 
turned  the  reins  of  their  horses  and  made  for  Seville.  The 
Moorish  sentinels,  from  the  towers  of  the  gate,  saw  three 
Christian  knights  advancing  over  the  plain,  and  supposed 
them  to  be  messengers  or  deserters  from  the  army.  "When  the 
cavaliers  drew  near,  each  struck  his  lance  against  the  gate, 
and  wheeling  round,  put  spurs  to  his  horse  and  retreated.  The 
Moors,  considering    this    a  scornfid  defiance,  were  violently 


110  MOORISH   CHRONICLES. 

exasperated,  and  sallied  forth  in  great  numbers  to  revenge  the 
insult.  They  soon  were  hard  on  the  traces  of  the  Christian 
cavaliers.  The  first  who  turned  to  fight  with  them  was  Alfonso 
Tello,  being  of  a  fiery  and  impatient  spirit.  The  second  was 
Garci  Perez ;  the  third  was  Don  Lorenzo,  who  waited  until  the 
Moors  came  up  with  them,  when  he  braced  his  shield,  couched 
his  lance,  and  took  the  whole  brunt  of  their  charge.  A  des- 
perate fight  took  place,  for  though  the  Moors  were  overwhelm- 
ing in  number,  the  cavaliers  were  three  of  the  most  valiant 
warriors  in  Spain.  The  conflict  was  beheld  from  the  camp. 
The  alarm  was  given ;  the  Christian  cavaliers  hastened  to  the 
rescue  of  their  companions  in  arms ;  squadron  after  squadron 
pressed  to  the  field,  the  Moors  poured  out  reinforcements  from 
the  gate ;  in  this  way  a  general  battle  ensued,  which  lasted  a 
great  part  of  the  day,  until  the  Moors  were  vanquished  and 
driven  within  their  walls. 

There  was  one  of  the  gates  of  Seville,  called  the  gate  of  the 
Alcazar,  which  led  out  to  a  small  bridge  over  the  Guadayra. 
Out  of  this  gate  the  Moors  used  to  make  frequent  sallies, 
to  fall  suddenly  upon  the  Christian  camp,  or  to  sweep  off 
the  flocks  and  herds  about  its  outskirts,  and  then  to  scour 
back  to  the  bridge,  beyond  which  it  was  dangerous  to  pursue 
them. 

The  defence  of  this  part  of  the  camp  was  intrusted  to 
those  two  valiant  compeers  in  arms,  Garci  Perez  de  Vargas 
and  Don  Lorenzo  Xuarez ;  and  they  determined  to  take  ample 
revenge  upon  the  Moors  for  all  the  depredations  they  had  com- 
mitted. They  chose,  therefore,  about  two  hundred  hardy 
cavaliers,  the  flower  of  those  seasoned  warriors  on  the  op- 
posite side  of  the  Guadalquivir,  who  formed  the  little  army 
of  the  good  Master  of  Santiago.  When  they  were  all  assem- 
bled together,  Don  Lorenzo  put  them  in  ambush,  in  the  way  by 
which  the  Moors  were  accustomed  to  pass  in  their  maraudings, 
and  ho  instructed  them,  in  pursuing  the  Moors,  to  stop  at  the 
bridge,  and  by  no  means  to  pass  beyond  it ;  for  between  it  and 
the  city  there  was  a  great  host  of  the  enemy,  and  the  bridge 
was  so  narrow  that  to  retreat  over  it  would  be  perilous  in  the 
extreme.  Tbis  order  was  given  to  all,  biit  was  partictdarly 
intended  for  Garci  Perez,  to  restrain  his  daring  spirit,  which 
was  ever  apt  to  run  into  peril. 

They  had  not  been  long  in  ambush  when  they  heard  the  dis- 
tant tramp  of  the  enemy  upon  the  bridge,  and  found  that  the 


CHRONICLE   OF  FERN  Ay  DO    THE  SAINT.  ]H 

Moors  were  upon  the  forage.  They  kept  concealed,  and  the 
Moors  passed  by  them  in  careless  and  irregular  manner,  as  men 
apprehending  no  danger.  Scarce  had  they  gone  by  when  the 
cavaliers  rushed  forth,  charged  into  the  midst  of  them,  and 
threw  them  all  into  confusion.  Many  were  killed  or  over- 
thrown in  the  shock,  the  rest  took  to  flight,  and  made  at  full 
speed  for  the  bridge.  Most  of  the  Christian  soldiers,  according 
to  orders,  stopped  at  the  bridge ;  but  Don  Lorenzo,  with  a  few 
of  his  cavaliers,  followed  the  enemy  half  way  across,  making 
great  havoc  in  that  narrow  pass.  Many  of  the  Moors,  in  their 
panic,  flung  themselves  from  the  bridge,  and  perished  in  the 
Guadayra;  others  were  cut  down  and  trampled  under  the  boots 
of  friends  and  foes.  Don  Lorenzo,  in  the  heat  of  the  fight, 
cried  aloud  incessantly,  defying  the  Moors,  and  proclaiming  his 
name,— "Turn  hither!  turn  hither!  'Tis  I,  Lorenzo  Xuarez!" 
But  few  of  the  Moors  cared  to  look  him  in  the  face. 

Don  Lorenzo  now  returned  to  his  cavaliers,  but  on  looking 
round,  Garci  Perez  was  not  to  be  seen.  All  were  dismayed, 
fearing  some  evil  fortune  had  befallen  him ;  when,  on  casting 
their  eyes  beyond  the  bridge,  they  saw  him  on  the  opposite 
side,  surrounded  by  Moors  and  fighting  with  desperate 
valor. 

"Garci  Perez  has  deceived  us,"  said  Don  Lorenzo,  "and  lias 
passed  the  bridge,  contrary  to  agreement.     But  to  the  rescue, 
comrades !    Never  let  it  be  said  that  so  good  a  cavalier  as  Garci 
Perez  was  lost  for  want  of  our  assistance. "    So  saying,  they  all 
put  spurs  to  their  horses,  rushed  again  upon  the  bridge,  and 
broke  their  way  across,  cutting  down  and  overturning  the 
Moors,  and  driving  great  numbers  to  fling  themselves  into  the 
river.     When  the  Moors  who  had  surrounded  Garci  Perez  saw 
this  band  of  cavaliers  rushing  from  the  bridge,  they  turned  to 
defend  themselves.     The  contest  was  fierce,  but  broken;  many 
of  the  Moors  took  refuge  in  the  river,  but  the  Christians  fol- 
lowed and  slew  them  among  the  waves.    They  continued  fight- 
ing for  the  remainder  of  the  day,  quite  up  to  the  gate  of  the 
Alcazar;  and  if  the  chronicles  of  the  times  speak  with  their 
usual  veracity,  full  three  thousand  infidels  bit  the  dust  on  that 
occasion.     When  Don  Lorenzo  returned  to  the  camp,  and  was 
in  presence  of  the  king  and  of  numerous  cavaliers,  great  en- 
comiums were  passed  upon  his  valor ;  but  he  modestly  replied 
that  Garci  Perez  had  that  day  made  them  good  soldiers  by 
force. 


112  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

From  that  time  forward  the  Moors  attempted  no  further  in- 
roads into  the  camp,  so  severe  a  lesson  had  they  received  from 
these  brave  cavaliers.* 

The  city  of  Seville  was  connected  with  the  suburb  of  Triana 
by  a  strong  bridge  of  boats,  fastened  together  by  massive 
chains  of  iron.  By  this  bridge  a  constant  communication  was 
kept  up  between  Triana  and  the  city,  and  mutual  aid  and  sup- 
port passed  and  repassed.  While  this  bridge  remained,  it  was 
impossible  to  complete  the  investment  of  the  city,  or  to  cap- 
ture the  castle  of  Triana. 

The  bold  Admiral  Bonifaz  at  length  conceived  a  plan  to 
break  this  bridge  asunder,  and  thus  to  cut  off  all  communica- 
tion between  the  city  and  Triana.  No  sooner  had  this  idea 
entered  his  mind  than  he  landed,  and  proceeded  with  great 
speed  to  the  royal  tent,  to  lay  it  before  the  king.  Then  a  con- 
sultation was  summoned  by  the  king  of  ancient  mariners  and 
artificers  of  ships,  and  other  persons  learned  in  maritime 
affairs ;  and  after  Admiral  Bonifaz  had  propounded  his  plan,  it 
was  thought  to  be  good,  and  all  preparations  were  made  to 
carry  it  into  effect.  The  admiral  took  two  of  his  largest  and 
strongest  ships,  and  fortified  them  at  the  prows  with  solid  tim- 
ber and  with  plates  of  iron ;  and  he  put  within  them  a  great 
number  of  chosen  men,  well  armed  and  provided  with  every- 
thing for  attack  and  defence.  Of  one  he  took  the  command 
himself.  It  was  the  third  day  of  May,  the  day  of  the  most 
Holy  Cross,  that  he  chose  for  this  grand  and  perilous  attempt ; 
and  the  pious  King  Fernando,  to  insure  success,  ordered  that  a 
cross  should  be  carried  as  a  standard  at  the  mast-head  of  each 
ship. 

On  the  third  of  May,  toward  the  hour  of  noon,  the  two  ships 
descended  the  Guadalquivir  for  some  distance,  to  gain  room  to 
come  up  with  the  greater  violence.  Here  they  waited  the  rising 
of  the  tide,  and  as  soon  as  it  was  in  f ull  force,  and  a  favorable 
wind  had  sprung  up  from  the  sea,  they  hoisted  anchor,  spread 
all  sail,  and  put  themselves  in  the  midst  of  the  current.  The 
whole  shores  were  lined  on  each  side  with  Christian  troops, 
watching  the  event  with  great  anxiety.  The  king  and  the 
Prince  Alfonso,  with  their  warriors,  on  the  one  side  had  drawn 
close  to  the  city  to  prevent  the  sallying  forth  of  the  Moors, 
while  the  good  Master  of  Santiago.  Don  Pelayo  Perez  Correa, 

*  Cronica  General  de  EspaSa,  pt.  4.  Cronica  del  Rey  Fernando  el  Santo,  C.  60. 
Cronica  Gotica,  T.  3.  p.  126. 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNANDO   TEE  SAINT.  H3 

kept  watch  upon  the  gates  of  Triana.  The  Moors  crowded  the 
tops  of  their  towers,  their  walls  and  house-tops,  and  prepared 
engines  and  weapons  of  all  kinds  to  overwhelm  the  ships  with 
destruction. 

Twice  the  hold  admiral  set  all  sail  and  started  on  his  career, 
and  twice  the  wind  died  away  before  he  had  proceeded  half  his 
course.  Shouts  of  joy  and  derision  rose  from  the  Avails  and 
towers  of  Seville,  while  the  warriors  in  the  ships  began  to  fear 
that  their  attempt  would  be  unsuccessful.  At  length  a  fresh 
and  strong  wind  arose  that  swelled  every  sail  and  sent  the 
ships  ploughing  up  the  waves  of  the  Guadalquivir.  A  dead 
silence  prevailed  among  the  hosts  on  either  bank;  even  the 
Moors  remained  silent,  in  fixed  and  breathless  suspense. 
When  the  ships  arrived  within  reach  of  the  walls  of  the  city  and 
the  suburbs,  a  tremendous  attack  was  commenced  from  every 
wall  and  tower ;  great  engines  discharged  stones  and  offensive 
weapons  of  all  kinds,  and  flaming  pots  of  Greek  fire.  On  the 
tower  of  gold  were  stationed  catapults  and  vast  cross-bows  that 
were  worked  with  cranks,  and  from  hence  an  iron  shower 
was  rained  upon  the  ships.  The  Moors  in  Triana  were  equally 
active ;  from  every  wall  and  turret,  from  house-tops,  and  from 
the  banks  of  the  river,  an  incessant  assault  was  kept  up  with 
catapults,  cross-bows,  slings,  darts,  and  everything  that  could 
annoy.  Through  all  this  tempest  of  war,  the  ships  kept  on 
their  course.  The  first  ship  which  arrived  struck  the  bridge 
on  the  part  toward  Triana.  The  shock  resounded  from  shore 
to  shore,  the  whole  fabric  trembled,  the  ship  recoiled  and 
reeled,  but  the  bridge  was  unbroken;  and  shouts  of  joy  rose 
from  the  Moors  on  each  side  of  the  river.  Immediately  after 
came  the  ship  of  the  admiral.  It  struck  the  bridge  just  about 
the  centre  with  a  tremendous  crash.  The  iron  chains  which 
bound  the  boats  together  snapped  as  if  they  had  been  flax. 
The  boats  were  crushed  and  shattered  and  flung  wide  asunder, 
and  the  ship  of  the  admiral  proceeded  in  triumph  through  the 
open  space.  No  sooner  did  the  King  and  the  Prince  Alfonso  see 
the  success  of  the  admiral,  than  they  pressed  with  their  troops 
closely  round  the  city,  and  prevented  the  Moors  from  sallying 
forth ;  while  the  ships,  having  accomplished  their  enterprise,  ex- 
tricated themselves  from  their  dangerous  situation,  and  returned 
in  triumph  to  their  accustomed  anchorage.  This  was  the  fatal 
blow  that  dismembered  Seville  from  Triana,  and  insured  the 
downfall  of  the  city. 


114  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

INVESTMENT  OF  TRIANA. — GARCI  PEREZ  AND   THE  INFANZON. 

On  the  day  after  the  breaking  of  the  bridge,  the  king,  the 
Prince  Alfonso,  the  Prince  Enrique,  the  various  masters  of 
the  orders,  and  a  great  part  of  the  army,  crossed  the  Guadal- 
quivir and  commenced  an  attack  on  Triana,  while  the  bold 
Adzniral  Bonifaz  approached  with  his  ships  and  assaulted  the 
place  from  the  water.  But  the  Christian  army  was  unpro- 
vided with  ladders  or  machines  for  the  attack,  and  fought  to 
great  disadvantage.  The  Moors,  from  the  safe  shelter  of  their 
walls  and  towers,  rained  a  shower  of  missiles  of  all  kinds.  As 
they  were  so  high  above  the  Christians,  their  arrows,  darts, 
and  lances  came  with  the  greater  force.  They  were  skilful 
with  the  cross-bow,  and  had  engines  of  such  force  that  the 
darts  which  they  discharged  would  sometimes  pass  through  a 
cavalier  all  armed,  and  bury  themselves  in  the  earth.* 

The  very  women  combated  from  the  walls,  and  hurled  down 
stones  that  crushed  the  warriors  beneath. 

While  the  army  was  closely  investing  Triana,  and  fierce 
encounters  were  daily  taking  place  between  Moor  and  Chris- 
tian, there  arrived  at  the  camp  a  youthful  Infanzon,  or  noble, 
of  proud  lineage.  He  brought  with  him  a  shining  train  of 
vassals,  all  newly  armed  and  appointed,  and  his  own  armor, 
all  fresh  and  lustrous,  showed  none  of  the  dents  and  bruises 
and  abuses  of  the  war.  As  this  gay  and  gorgeous  cavalier  was 
patrolling  the  camp,  with  several  cavaliers,  he  beheld  Garci 
Perez  pass  by,  in  armor  and  accoutrements  all  worn  and  soiled 
by  the  hard  service  he  had  performed,  and  he  saw  a  similar 
device  to  his  own,  of  white  waves,  emblazoned  on  the 
scutcheon  of  this  unknown  warrior.  Then  the  nobleman  was 
highly  ruffled  and  incensed,  and  he  exclaimed,  "  How  is  this? 
who  is  this  sorry  cavalier  that  dares  to  bear  these  devices?  By 
my  faith,  he  must  either  give  them  up  or  show  his  reasons  for 
usurping  them."  The  other  cavaliers  exclaimed,  "  Be  cautious 
how  you  speak ;  this  is  Garci  Perez ;  a  braver  cavalier  wears 
not  sword  in  Spain.    For  all  he  goes  thus  modestly  and  quietly 

*  Cronica  General,  pt.  4,  p.  341. 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNANDO   THE  SAINT.  r,;, 

about,  he  is  a  very  lion  in  the  field,  nor  does  he  assume  any- 
thing that  he  cannot  well  maintain.  Should  he  hear  this 
which  you  have  said,  trust  us  he  would  not  rest  quiet  until  he 
had  terrible  satisfaction." 

Now  so  it  happened  that  certain  mischief-makers  carried 
word  to  Garci  Perez  of  what  the  nobleman  had  said,  expect ij  g 
to  see  him  burst  into  fierce  indignation,  and  defy  the  other  to 
the  field.  But  Garci  Perez  remained  tranquil,  and  said  not  a 
word. 

Within  a  day  or  two  after,  there  was  a  sally  from  the  castle 
of  Triana  and  a  hot  skirmish  between  the  Moors  and  Chris- 
tians; and  Garci  Perez  and  the  Infanzon,  and  a  number  of 
cavaliers,  pursued  the  Moors  up  to  the  barriers  of  the  castle. 
Here  the  enemy  rallied  and  made  a  fierce  defence,  and  killed 
several  of  the  cavaliers.  But  Garci  Perez  put  spurs  to  his 
horse,  and  couching  his  lance,  charged  among  the  thickest  of 
the  foes,  and  followed  by  a  handful  of  his  companions,  drove- 
the  Moors  to  the  very  gates  of  Triana.  The  Moors  seeing  how 
few  were  their  pursuers,  turned  upon  them,  and  dealt  bravely 
with  sword  and  lance  and  mace,  while  stones  and  darts  and 
arrows  were  rained  down  from  the  towers  above  the  gates. 
At  length  the  Moors  took  refuge  within  the  walls,  leaving  the 
field  to  the  victorious  cavaliers.  Garci  Perez  drew  off  coolly 
and  calmly  amidst  a  shower  of  missiles  from  the  wall.  He 
came  out  of  the  battle  with  his  armor  all  battered  and  defaced ; 
his  helmet  was  bruised,  the  crest  broken  off,  and  his  buckler 
so  dented  and  shattered  that  the  device  could  scarcely  be  per- 
ceived. On  returning  to  the  barrier,  he  found  there  the  Infan- 
zon, with  his  armor  all  uninjured,  and  his  armorial  bearings 
as  fresh  as  if  just  emblazoned,  for  the  vaunting  warrior  had 
not  ventured  beyond  the  barrier.  Then  Garci  Perez  drew 
near  to  the  Infanzon,  and  eyeing  him  from  head  to  foot, 
'  Sefior  cavalier,"  said  he,  "  you  may  well  dispute  my  right  to 
wear  this  honorable  device  in  my  shield,  since  you  see  I  take 
so  little  care  of  it  that  it  is  almost  destroyed.  You,  on  the 
other  hand,  are  worthy  of  bearing  it.  You  are  the  guardian 
angel  of  honor,  since  you  guard  it  so  carefully  as  to  put  it  to 
no  risk.  I  will  only  observe  to  you  that  the  sword  kept  in  the 
scabbard  rusts,  and  the  valor  that  is  never  put  to  the  proof 
becomes  sullied."  * 

At  these  words  the  Infanzon  was  deeply  humiliated,  for  he 

*  Cronica  General,  pt.  4.    C'roniea  Gotica,  T.  3,  §  10. 


116  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

saw  that  Garci  Perez  had  heard  of  his  empty  speeches,  and  ho 
felt  how  unworthily  he  had  spoken  of  so  valiant  and  magnani- 
mous a  cavalier.  "  Seiior  cavalier,"  said  he,  "pardon  my 
ignorance  and  presumption;  you  alone  are  worthy  of  hear- 
ing those  arms,  for  you  derive  not  nobility  from  them,  but 
ennoble  them  by  your  glorious  deeds." 

Then  Garci  Perez  blushed  at  the  praises  he  had  thus  drawn 
upon  himself,  and  he  regretted  the  harshness  of  his  words  to- 
ward the  Infanzon,  and  he  not  merely  pardoned  him  all  that 
had  passed,  but  gave  him  his  hand  in  pledge  of  amity,  and  from 
that  time  they  were  close  friends  and  companions  in  arms.* 


CHAPTER  XX. 


CAPITULATION     OF      SEVILLE.—  DISrERSION       OF     THE       MOORISH 
INHABITANTS.— TRIUMPHANT  ENTRY   OF  KING   FERNANDO. 

About  this  time  there  arrived  in  Seville  a  Moorish  alfaqui, 
named  Orias,  with  a  large  company  of  warriors,  who  came  to 
this  war  as  if  performing  a  pilgrimage,  for  it  was  considered  a 
holy  war  no  less  by  infidels  than  Christians.  This  Orias  was  of 
a  politic  and  crafty  nature,  and  he  suggested  to  the  comman- 
der of  Seville  a  stratagem  by  which  they  might  get  Prince  Al- 
fonso in  their  power,  and  compel  King  Fernando  to  raise  the 
siege  by  way  of  ransom.  The  counsel  of  Orias  was  adopted, 
after  a  consultation  with  the  principal  cavaliers,  and  measures 
taken  to  carry  it  into  execution ;  a  Moor  was  sent,  therefore, 
as  if  secretly  and  by  stealth,  to  Prince  Alfonso,  and  offered  to 
put  him  in  possession  of  two  towers  of  the  wall,  if  he  would 
come  in  person  to  receive  them,  which  towers  once  in  his  pos- 
session, it  would  be  easy  to  overpower  the  city. 

Prince  Alfonso  listened  to  the  envoy  with  seeming  eagerness, 
but  suspected  some  deceit,  and  thought  it  unwise  to  put  his 
person  in  such  jeopardy.  Lest,  however,  there  should  be 
truth  in  his  proposals,  a  party  of  chosen  cavaliers  were  sent  as 
if  to  take  possession  of  the  towers,  and  with  them  was  Don 
Pero  Nunez  de  Guzman,  disguised  as  the  prince. 

When    they    came    to    the   place   where   the    Moors   had 

♦CroTiicaGeneral.pt   4.     Cronica  del  Rev  Santo.     Cronica  Gotica.  T.  3.  §  16. 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNANDO  THE  SAINT.  117 

appointed  to  meet  them,  they  beheld  a  party  of  infidels, 
strongly  armed,  who  advanced  with  sinister  looks,  and 
attempted  to  surround  Don  Nunez,  but  he,  being  on  his  guard, 
put  spurs  to  his  horse,  and,  breaking  through  the  midst  of 
them,  escaped.  His  companions  followed  his  example,  all  but 
one,  who  was  struck  from  his  horse  and  cut  to  pieces  by  the 
Moors.* 

Just  after  this  event  there  arrived  a  great  reinforcement  to 
the  camp  from  the  city  of  Cordova,  bringing  provisions  and 
various  munitions  of  war.  Finding  his  army  thus  increased, 
the  king  had  a  consultation  with  Admiral  Bonifaz,  and  deter- 
mined completely  to  cut  off  all  communication  between  Seville 
and  Triana,  for  the  Moors  still  crossed  the  river  occasionally 
by  fording.  When  they  were  about  to  carry  their  plan  into 
effect,  the  crafty  Alfaqui  Orias  crossed  to  Triana,  accom- 
panied by  a  number  of  Ganzules.  He  was  charged  with 
instructions  to  the  garrison,  and  to  concert  some  mode  of 
reuniting  their  forces,  or  of  effecting  some  blow  upon  the 
Christian  camp ;  for  unless  they  could  effect  a  union  and  co- 
operation, it  woidd  be  impossible  to  make  much  longer  resist- 
ance. 

Scarce  had  Orias  passed,  when  the  Christian  sentinels  gave 
notice.  Upon  this,  a  detachment  of  the  Christian  army  imme- 
diately crossed  and  took  possession  of  the  opposite  shore,  and 
Admiral  Bonifaz  stationed  his  fleet  in  the  middle  of  the  river. 
Thus  the  return  of  Orias  was  prevented,  and  all  intercourse  be- 
tween the  places,  even  by  messenger,  completely  interrupted. 
The  city  and  Triana  were  now  severally  attacked,  and  unable 
to  render  each  other  assistance.  The  Moors  were  daily  dimi- 
nishing in  number ;  many  slain  in  battle,  many  taken  captive, 
and  many  dying  of  hunger  and  disease.  The  Christian  forces 
were  daily  augmenting,  and  were  animated  by  continual 
success,  whereas  mutiny  and  sedition  began  to  break  out 
among  the  inhabitants  of  the  city.  The  Moorish  commander 
Axataf,  therefore,  seeing  all  further  resistance  vain,  sent  am- 
bassadors to  capitulate  with  King  Fernando.  It  was  a  hard 
and  humiliating  struggle  to  resign  this  fair  city,  the  queen  of 
Andalusia,  the  seat  of  Moorish  sway  and  splendor,  and  which 
had  been  under  Moorish  domination  ever  since  the  conquest. 

The  valiant  Axataf  endeavored  to  make  various  conditions ; 
that  Fernando  should  raise  the  siege  on  receiving  the  tribute 

*  Cronica  General,  pt.  4,  p.  424. 


118  MOORISH   CHRONICLES. 

which  had  hitherto  been  paid  to  the  miramaniolin.  This  being 
peremptorily  refused,  he  offered  to  give  up  a  third  of  the  city, 
and  then  a  half,  building  at  his  own  cost  a  wall  to  divide  the 
Moorish  part  from  the  Christian.  King  Fernando,  however, 
would  listen  to  no  such  terms.  He  demanded  the  entire  surren- 
der of  the  place,  with  the  exception  of  the  persons  and  effects  of 
the  inhabitants,  and  permitting  the  commander  to  retain  pos- 
session of  St.  Lucar,  Aznal  Farache,  and  Niebla.  The  comman- 
der of  Seville  saw  the  sword  suspended  over  his  head,  and  had 
to  submit ;  the  capitulations  of  the  surrender  were  signed,  when 
Axataf  made  one  last  request,  that  he  might  be  permitted  to 
demolish  the  grand  mosque  and  the  principal  tower  (or  Giralda) 
of  the  city.*  He  felt  that  these  would  remain  perpetual  mon- 
uments of  his  disgrace.  The  Prince  Alfonso  was  present  when 
this  last  demand  was  made,  and  his  father  looked  at  him  sig- 
nificantly, as  if  he  desired  the  reply  to  come  from  his  lips.  The 
prince  rose  indignantly  and  exclaimed,  that  if  there  should  be 
a  single  tile  missing  from  the  temple  or  a  single  brick  from  the 
tower,  it  should  be  paid  by  so  many  lives  that  the  streets  of 
Seville  should  run  with  blood.  The  Moors  were  silenced  by 
this  reply,  and  prepared  with  heavy  hearts  to  fulfil  the  capitu- 
lation. One  month  was  allowed  them  for  the  purpose,  the 
alcazar  or  citadel  of  Seville  being  given  up  to  the  Christians  as 
a  security. 

On  the  twenty -third  day  of  November  this  important  fortress 
was  surrendered,  after  a  siege  of  eighteen  months.  A  deputa- 
tion of  the  principal  Moors  came  forth  and  presented  King 
Fernando  with  the  keys  of  the  city;  at  the  same  time  the 
aljainia.  or  council  of  the  Jews,  presented  him  with  the  keys  of 
Jewry,  the  quarter  of  the  city  which  they  inhabited.  This  key 
was  notable  for  its  curious  workmanship.  It  was  formed  of  all 
kinds  of  metals.  The  guards  of  it  were  wrought  into  letters, 
bearing  the  following  signification, — "  God  wdl  open— the  king 
will  enter."  On  the  ring  was  inscribed  in  Hebrew, — '"The 
King  of  kings  will  enter ;  all  the  world  will  behold  him. "  This 
key  is  still  preserved  in  the  cathedral  of  Seville,  in  the  place 
where  repose  the  remains  of  the  sainted  King  Fernando,  t 

*  Mariana,  L.  13,  c.  7. 

t  In  Castile,  whenever  the  kings  entered  any  place  where  there  was  a  synagogue, 
the  Jews  assembled. in  council  and  paid  to  the  Monteros,  or  bull-fighters,  twelve 
maravedis  each,  to  guard  them,  that  they  should  receive  no  harm  from  the  Chris- 
tians; being  held  in  such  contempt  and  odium,  that  it  was  necessary  they  should  be 
under  the  safeguard  of  the  king,  not  to  be  injured  or  insulted.  (Zuniga:  Annales  de 
fcjevilla.) 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNANDO   THE  SAINT.  1  19 

During  the  month  of  grace  the  Moors  sold  such  of  their 
effects  as  they  could  not  carry  with  them,  and  the  king  pro- 
vided vessels  for  such  as  chose  to  depart  for  Africa.  Upward 
of  one  hundred  thousand,  it  is  said,  were  thus  convoyed  by 
Admiral  Bonifaz,  whde  upward  of  two  hundred  thousand  dis- 
persed themselves  throughout  such  of  the  territory  of  Andalu- 
sia as  still  remained  in  possession  of  the  Moors. 

"When  the  month  was  expired,  and  the  city  was  evacuated 
by  its  Moorish  inhabitants.  King  Fernando  the  Saint  entered 
in  solemn  triumph,  in  a  grand  religious  and  military  proces- 
sion. There  were  all  the  captains  and  cavaliers  of  the  army, 
in  shining  armor,  with  the  prelates,  and  masters  of  the  reli- 
gious and  military  orders,  and  the  nobility  of  Castile,  Leon,  and 
Aragon,  in  their  richest  apparel.  The  streets  resounded  with 
the  swelling  notes  of  martial  music  and  with  the  joyous  accla- 
mations of  the  multitude. 

In  the  midst  of  the  procession  was  the  venerable  effigy  of 
the  most  Holy  Mary,  on  a  triumphal  car  of  silver,  wrought 
with  admirable  skill;  and  immediately  after  followed  the 
pious  king,  with  a  drawn  sword  in  his  hand,  and  on  his  left 
was  Prince  Alfonso  and  the  other  princes. 

The  procession  advanced  to  the  principal  mosque,  which  had 
been  purified  and  consecrated  as  a  Christian  temple,  where  the 
triumphal  car  of  the  Holy  Virgin  was  placed  at  the  grand 
altar.  Here  the  pious  king  knelt  and  returned  thanks  to 
Heaven  and  the  Virgin  for  this  signal  victory,  and  all  present 
chanted  Te  Deum  Laudamus. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

DEATH  OF  KING  FERNANDO. 

When  King  Fernando  had  regulated  everything  for  the 
good  government  and  prosperity  of  Seville,  he  sallied  forth 
with  his  conquering  army  to  subdue  the  surrounding  country. 
He  soon  brought  under  subjection  Xerez,  Medina  Sidonia, 
Alua,  Bepel,  and  many  other  places  near  the  sea-coast ;  some 
surrendered  voluntarily,  others  were  taken  by  force ;  he  main- 
tained a  strict  peace  with  his  vassal  the  King  of  Granada,  but 
finding  not  sufficient  scope  for  his  arms  in  Spain,  and  being 
inflamed  with  a  holy  zeal  in  the  cause  of  the  faith,  he  deter- 


120  MOORISH  CHRONICLES. 

mined  to  pass  over  into  Africa,  and  retaliate  upon  the  Mos- 
lems their  daring  invasion  of  his  country.  For  this  purpose 
he  ordered  a  powerful  armada  to  be  prepared  in  the  ports  of 
Cantabria,  to  be  put  under  the  command  of  the  bold  Admiral 
Bonifaz. 

In  the  midst  of  his  preparations,  which  spread  consterna- 
tion throughout  Mauritania,  the  pious  king  fell  dangerously 
ill  at  Seville  of  a  dropsy.  When  he  found  Ins  dying  hour  ap- 
proaching, he  made  his  death-bed  confession,  and  requested 
the  holy  Sacrament  to  be  administered  to  him.  A  train  of 
bishops  and  other  clergy,  among  whom  was  his  son  Philip, 
Archbishop  of  Seville,  brought  the  Sacrament  into  his  pres- 
ence. The  king  rose  from  his  bed,  threw  himself  on  his  knees, 
with  a  rope  round  his  neck  and  a  crucifix  in  his  hand,  and 
poured  forth  his  soul  in  penitence  and  prayer.  Having  re- 
ceived the  viatica  and  the  holy  Sacrament,  he  commanded  all 
ornaments  of  royalty  to  be  taken  from  his  chamber.  He  as- 
sembled his  children  round  his  bedside,  and  blessed  his  son  the 
Prince  Alfonso,  as  his  first-born  and  the  heir  of  his  throne, 
giving  him  excellent  advice  for  the  government  of  his  king- 
dom, and  charging  him  to  protect  the  interests  of  his  brethren. 
The  pious  king  afterward  fell  into  an  ecstasy  or  trance,  in 
which  he  beheld  angels  watching  round  his  bed  to  bear  his 
soul  to  heaven.  He  awoke  from  this  in  a  state  of  heavenly 
rapture,  and,  asking  for  a  candle,  he  took  it  in  his  hand  and 
made  his  ultimate  profession  of  the  faith.  He  then  requested 
the  clergy  present  to  repeat  the  litanies,  and  to  chant  the  Te 
Deum  Laudamus.  In  chanting  the  first  verse  of  the  hymn, 
the  king  gently  inclined  his  head,  with  perfect  serenity  of 
countenance,  and  rendered  up  his  spirit.  "The  hymn,"  says 
the  ancient  chronicle,  "which  was  begun  on  earth  by  men, 
was  continued  by  the  voices  of  angels,  which  were  heard  by 
all  present."  These  doubtless  were  the  angels  which  the  king 
in  his  ecstasy  had  beheld  around  his  couch,  and  which  now 
accompanied  him,  in  his  glorious  ascent  to  heaven,  with  songs 
of  holy  triumph.  Nor  was  it  in  his  chamber  alone  that  these 
voices  were  heard,  but  in  all  the  royal  alcazars  of  Seville,  the 
sweetest  voices  were  heard  in  the  air  and  seraphic  music,  as 
of  angelic  choirs,  at  the  moment  that  the  sainted  king  ex- 
pired.*   He  died  on  the  30th  of  May,  the  vespers  of  the  Holy 

*  Pablo  de  Espinosa:  Grandesas  de  Sevilla,  fol.  146.  Cronica  del  Santo  Rey,  c. 
78.    Cronica  Gotica,  T.  3,  p.  106. 


CHRONICLE  OF  FERNANDO   THE  SAINT.  121 

Trinity,  in  the  year  of  the  Incarnation  one  thousand  two  hun- 
dred and  forty-two,  aged  seventy-three  years— having  reigned 
thirty-five  years  over  Castile  and  twenty  over  Leon. 

Two  days  after  his  death  he  was  interred  in  his  royal  chapel 
in  the  Holy  Church,  in  a  sepulchre  of  alabaster,  which  still 
remains.  It  is  asserted  by  grave  authors  that  at  the  time  of 
putting  his  body  in  the  sepulchre,  the  choir  of  angels  again 
was  heard  chanting  his  eulogium,  and  filling  the  air  with 
sweet  melody  in  praise  of  his  virtues.* 

When  ALhamar,  the  Moorish  King  of  Granada,  heard  of  his 
death,  he  caused  great  demonstrations  of  mourning  to  be  made 
throughout  his  dominions.  During  his  life  he  sent  yearly  a 
number  of  Moors  with  one  hundred  wax  tapers  to  assist  at  his 
exequies,  which  ceremony  was  observed  by  his  successors, 
until  the  time  of  the  conquest  of  Granada  by  Fernando  the 
Catholic,  t 


*  Argoti  de  Molina:  Nobleza  de  Andaluzia,  L.  1,  c.  21.    Tomas  Boeio:  Signales  de 
la  Iglesia,  L.  20.    Don  Rodrigo  Sanchez,  Bishop  of  Palencia,  pt.  3,  c.  40. 
t  Pablo  de  Espinosa,  fol.  146. 


THE    END. 


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