Chapter XLIX: Yezid and the Tragedy at Kerbala

A.H. LXI. A.D. 680.

[Sidenote: Death of Muâvia. Rajab, A.H. LX. April, A.D. 680.]

After a reign of unusual length and prosperity, Muâvia came to die at nearly eighty years of age. As he felt the end approaching, he brought forth a casket with parings in it of the Prophet’s nails. Of these ground fine, he bade them sprinkle the powder in his eyes and mouth when dead; and then bury him, for a winding-sheet, in a garment which Mahomet gave him. Fortune had favoured his rule. For twenty years he was Governor of Syria, and nearly as many more the acknowledged Caliph of all Islam. Since the abdication of Hasan, there had been, for the most part, profound peace throughout the empire. Wise, courageous, and forbearing, he held the dangerous and discordant elements that surrounded him in check;[586] consolidated, and even extended, the already vast area of Islam; and nursed commerce and the arts of peace, so that they greatly flourished in his time.

[Sidenote: His dying advice to Yezîd.]

But he looked to the future with anxiety. The experiment of nominating Yezîd his successor was sure to meet with opposition when he was gone. So from his death-bed he sent a message to Yezîd, who was absent at his huntingquarters, warning him of those against whom he must be on his guard. There were only four, he said, of whom, as former recusants, he need specially beware; Abdallah son of Omar, Hosein son of Aly, Abdallah son of Zobeir, and Abd al Rahmân son of Abu Bekr. The first, a pious devotee, would surely succumb. The last might be persuaded by his fellows to set up his claim; but he was too much engrossed with the pleasures of the harem to be the cause of much anxiety.[587] ‘As for Hosein,’ he continued, ‘the factious people of Irâc will not leave him alone till he shall attempt the empire; when thou hast gotten the victory, then deal gently with him, for verily the Prophet’s blood runneth in his veins. It is the Son of Zobeir that I fear the most for thee. Fierce as the lion, and crafty as the fox;--when within thy grasp, destroy him root and branch, leaving not a vestige behind.’

[Sidenote: Hosein and the Son of Zobeir escape to Mecca.]

The first care of Yezîd on ascending the throne was to require the recusants who had objected to his nomination as Heir Apparent, to swear allegiance to him now as Caliph. These resided at Medîna, and on the summons of the governor, two of them, the sons of Omar and Abbâs (the latter, progenitor of the Abbassides), at once complied with the command. But Abdallah son of Zobeir, and Hosein son of Aly, hesitated; and, under cover of delay for considering the matter, both of them escaped to Mecca.

[Sidenote: Ibn Zobeir dissembles.]

Since its capture by Mahomet, fifty years before, no enemy dared to go up against the Holy City; and there, in like security with the doves fluttering around the temple, whom no man might molest, conspirators, abusing the privilege of asylum, were able to hatch their plots against the empire. The ambition of Abdallah ibn Zobeir, as Muâvia foresaw, aimed at the Caliphate; but so long as Hosein remained at Mecca, he dissembled his intentions, and professed to yield to the superior claims of the Prophet’s grandson.

The house of Aly was still, after a fashion, popular at Kûfa. [Sidenote: Hosein invited to Kûfa.]The fond and fickle populace of that factious city now turned their eyes in the direction of Aly’s second son, Hosein. Invitations began to pour in upon him from thence, with promises of support, if he would but appear at Kûfa and claim his regal rights. Within a short space after reaching Mecca, he received one hundred and fifty missives of the kind. His friends pointed faithfully to the slippery ways of the men of Kûfa, and earnestly besought him that he would not trust himself amongst them there. But Ibn Zobeir, longing to be rid of his rival, fostered the ambitious design. [Sidenote: Muslim, sent in advance, put to death at Kûfa.]The unfortunate prince in an evil hour was thus tempted to accept the call. He sent, however, his cousin Muslim first, to feel the way, and promote his cause in Kûfa. Yezîd, hearing of the plot, deputed Obeidallah son of Ziâd, his most capable lieutenant, from Bussorah, to take the command at Kûfa. Muslim was discovered, soon after his arrival, lurking in the house of Hâni, a friend to the lineage of Aly. The populace, taking an unexpected turn in his favour, rose upon Obeidallah, and besieging him in his castle, went near to turning the tables against him. The ebullition, however, subsided almost as quickly as it arose. Obeidallah regained the lead, and Muslim, with his protector Hâni, was put to death.[588]

[Sidenote: Hosein sets out for Kûfa. Dzul Hijj, A.H. LX. Sept. A.D. 680.]

Meanwhile, Hosein, heedless of the remonstrances of Ibn Abbâs and other faithful friends, started from Mecca, with his whole family and household, escorted by a small but devoted band of his adherents. He had already passed the great desert, and was well advanced on the road to Kûfa, when tidings reached him of the fate of Muslim and Hâni. He was staggered by the intelligence. It might well have seemed the height of madness, encumbered as he was with the ladies of his household, to venture himself into a hostile city; and it was yet possible for him to have retraced his steps. But the brothers of Muslim were clamorous with him to avenge his blood; and there was still the hope, a forlorn hope indeed, that the numerous professing friends who had drawn Hosein thither by specious promises, would, when he appeared in person, arise and rally round him, as, before the Battle of the Camel, they had rallied round his brother Hasan. But each messenger and traveller whom they met brought worse and worse reports. Farazdac, the poet, passed by; all the comfort he could give Hosein was--‘The heart of Kûfa is with thee, but its sword against thee.’ The Arab tribes, ever ready for a fray, had been swelling Hosein’s band by the way, till it had become a considerable force; but now perceiving how matters stood, and that the cause was hopeless, they drew off, so that he was left with nothing besides his original small following of some thirty horse and forty foot.[589] An Arab chieftain of the Beni Tay besought him even now to divert his course south-west, towards the hills of Aja and Selma--‘where,’ said he, ‘in ten days time, twenty thousand swords and lances of my tribe will gather round thee.’ Hosein would gladly have followed the advice; ‘but,’ he replied, ‘I am surrounded, as thou seest, by women and children; I cannot turn aside with them into the desert; I must needs go forward.’ They had not proceeded far, when a body of Kûfan horse appeared in sight. [Sidenote: Is met by Horr near Kûfa. 1 Moharram, A.H. LXI. Oct. A.D. 680.] They were under the command of Horr, an Arab leader of the Beni Temîm, who courteously, but firmly, refused to let him pass. ‘My orders,’ he said, ‘are to carry thee to Obeidallah, the son of Ziâd; but if thou wilt not go with me, then turn to the right hand, or turn to the left, as thou choosest, saving only the way back again to Mecca or Medîna, for that thou mayest not take.’[590] So the little band turned aside to the left; and, skirting Kûfa on the margin of the desert, marched forward, for a day or two, along the banks of the Western Euphrates. In taking this direction, Hosein had apparently no immediate object beyond avoiding an attack from Kûfa. Horr kept close by him, and courteous communications still passed between them.

[Sidenote: Hosein stopped by Amr’s cavalry at Kerbala.]

But it was dangerous to leave a pretender to the Caliphate thus hovering around such a city as Kûfa, already excited by the affair of Muslim. So Obeidallah sent Amr son of Sád at the head of four thousand horse with a second summons.[591] Thus arrested, Hosein encamped his little band on the plain of Kerbala, close by the western branch of the Euphrates, five-and-twenty miles north-west of Kûfa. At repeated interviews, Hosein disclaimed hostilities; which, indeed, with his slender following, and no prospect of a rising in the city, were out of thought. He would submit, he said, but only on one of these conditions: ‘Suffer me to return to the place from whence I came; if not, then lead me to Yezîd, the Caliph, at Damascus, and place my hand in his that I may speak with him face to face; or, if thou wilt do neither of these things, send me far away to the wars, where I shall fight, the Caliph’s faithful soldier, against the enemies of Islam.’ But Obeidallah insisted upon an unconditional submission; and to effect this without resort to arms, he ordered Amr to cut off all access to the river, hoping that thirst might thus force him to surrender. Hosein, who feared worse than death the cruel name of Obeidallah son of Ziâd, stood firm to his conditions; and he even prevailed on Amr himself to press them upon Obeidallah, and beg that he might be sent to the Caliph’s court. [Sidenote: Shamir sent to bring in Hosein, dead or alive. 8 Moharram. Oct. 8.]It had been well for the Omeyyad dynasty, if the request had been complied with. Instead, Obeidallah, impatient at the delay, jealous of his own prestige, or fearing the fickleness of the Kûfans, sent a creature of his own, an Arab called Shamir[592] (name never uttered by good Moslem but with a shudder and a curse) with orders that Amr should dally with Hosein no longer, but, dead or alive, bring him into Kûfa; and with power to supersede Amr in command should he fail in prompt obedience. Amr thus compelled, or fearing to lose the government of Rei to which he had just been promoted, forthwith surrounded the little camp more closely. Hosein, securing now the position as best he could, declared that he would not surrender, but would fight the battle to the last. The scene which followed is still fresh as yesterday in the mind of every Believer, and is commemorated with wild grief and frenzy as often as the fatal day, the Tenth of the first month of the year, comes round. It has been encircled by tradition with such harrowing recitals as never fail to rouse the horror and indignation of the listener to the highest pitch. The fond and pious Moslem forgets that Hosein, the leader of the band, having broken his allegiance, and yielded himself to a treasonable, though impotent, design upon the throne, was committing an offence that endangered society, and demanded swift suppression. He can see but the cruel and ruthless hand that exterminated, with few exceptions, everyone in whose veins flowed the sacred blood of the Prophet. And, in truth, the simple story needs no adventitious colouring to touch the heart.

[Sidenote: Hosein’s preparations for defence. 9 Moharram. Oct. 9.]

Hosein obtained a day’s respite to send away his relatives from the fated camp. But, one and all, they refused to listen to his entreaty that they would leave him. During the night, his sister Zeinab overheard what was going forward, for his servant was furbishing her brother’s sword, and singing the while snatches of martial verse on the impending combat. Hastily drawing her mantle around her, she stole in the dark to her brother’s tent, and flinging herself upon him in wild grief, beat her breast and face, and fell into a swoon. Hosein poured water on her temples; but it was little that he could do to comfort her. The tents were rudely staked together, and some petty barricades of wood and reeds--the burning of which might briefly check the onset--piled around; a poor defence against the overwhelming foe. Aly, Hosein’s little son, lay sick of a fever, but there was no drop of water to slake his parched lips. The women and children passed the night in fear and crying.

[Sidenote: Hosein attacked, and, with all his company, slain. 10 Moharram, A.H. LXI. Oct. 10, A.D. 680.]

On the morning of the fatal tenth of Moharram, Hosein drew out his little band for battle. There was a parley; and again he offered to retire, or be led to the presence of the Caliph. Finding that it was all in vain, he alighted from his camel; and, surrounded by his kinsmen, who stood with firm front for his defence, resolved to sell life dear. At length, one shot an arrow from the Kûfic side, and, amid the wailing of the women and little ones, the unequal fight began. Arrows flew thick, and the forlorn company had its numbers gradually thinned. Hosein’s nephew, Câsim by name, a lad of about ten years of age, betrothed to his daughter Fâtima, was early struck by an arrow, and died in the arms of his uncle. One after another, the grown-up sons of Hosein, his brothers, nephews, and cousins, fell before the shafts of the enemy. Some fled for shelter behind the camp. The reeds were set on fire, and the flames, spreading to the tents, added new horror to the scene. For long, none dared to attack Hosein, and to the last it was hoped that he might yet surrender. Towards the close of the conflict, driven by thirst, he sought to gain the river-bank. The troops closed in behind, and he was cut off from his family. The ‘cursed’ Shamir then led the attack. Struck by an arrow, Hosein fell to the ground, and the Kûfic cavalry rode ruthlessly across the corpse.

[Sidenote: Trunkless heads cast before the Governor of Kûfa.]

Not one of the fighting men of this forlorn band escaped alive. But they fought bravely; and left of their foes, more than their own number dead upon the field. Two sons of Hosein, Aly Akbar[593] and Abdallah, perished early in the day; and, at its close, there were amongst the dead no less than six brothers of Hosein, the sons of Aly; two nephews, sons of his brother Hasan; and six others, descendants of Abu Tâlib, the father of Aly and uncle of Mahomet.[594] The camp was plundered; but no further indignity was offered to the inmates, mostly women and children, who were carried, together with the ghastly load of seventy trunkless heads, to Obeidallah’s palace. A shock of horror, such as never since has ceased to thrill the Moslem world, seized the crowd, when the gory head of the Prophet’s grandson was cast at Obeidallah’s feet. Hard hearts were melted. As the governor turned the head roughly over with his staff (though we must be slow to accept the tales of heartless insult multiplied by Shîya hate), an aged voice from amongst the courtiers was heard to cry: ‘Gently! for it is the Prophet’s grandson. By the Lord! I have seen these very lips kissed by the blessed mouth of Mahomet.’[595]

[Sidenote: The ladies and children sent to Medîna.]

The sister of Hosein, his two little sons, Aly Asghar[596] and Amr, and two daughters, sole survivors of the family, were treated by Obeidallah with respect; and were sent along with the head of the Pretender to the Caliph at Damascus. Whether sincerely, or to escape the execrations which began already to be heaped upon the actors in the tragedy, Yezîd disowned all responsibility for the death of Hosein, and bitterly reproached Obeidallah for the deed. The ladies and children were honourably received into the Caliph’s household, and sent eventually, with every comfort and consideration, back to their Medîna home. This destination, meant in kindness by Yezîd, turned out badly for the Omeyyad Caliphate. [Sidenote: Reaction in favour of Aly’s descendants.]At Medîna, there ensued a wild scene of grief and lamentation. Everything tended there to intensify the sense of the catastrophe. The deserted dwellings inhabited heretofore by the family and kinsmen of the Prophet, the widowed ladies, the orphaned little ones, all added pathos to the cruel tale. That tale, eagerly heard by groups of weeping listeners at the lips of the women and children who alone survived to tell it--and coloured, as oft repeated by them, with fresh and growing horrors--was spread by the pilgrims flocking yearly to Medîna, over the whole empire. The tragic story was taken up in every household. It soon was seen that the Governor of Kûfa, in his zeal to suppress the imperial claim of the house of Aly, had overshot the mark. The claim of this line, heretofore unknown, or treated with indifference, struck deep now into the hearts of multitudes; and a cloud of indignation and wrath began to gather, which ere long burst upon the dynasty accused of perpetrating the sacrilegious massacre. The tragedy of Kerbala decided not only the fate of the Caliphate, but of Mahometan kingdoms long after the Caliphate had waned and disappeared. [Sidenote: The ‘Moharram’.]None who has witnessed the wild and passionate grief with which, as the anniversary each year comes round, Moslems of every land beat their breasts, in vast crowds, the live-long night, vociferating unweariedly the frantic cry, _Hasan, Hosein! Hasan, Hosein!_ in wailing cadence, can fail to recognise the fatal weapon, sharp and double-edged, which the Omeyyad dynasty allowed thus to fall into the hands of the house of Aly and the house of Abbâs.[597]